DIG THIS WITH BILL MESNIK AND RICH BUCKLAND- THE SPLENDID BOHEMIANS
My Fellow Americans, Life is actually just a microscopic, deluded moment in time, so let's cut to the freakin' chase. One look at our impending election debacle can solidify my case. It has been my contention since birth, that the answer to every difficulty we encounter on this sacred yet demented Stone, can be revealed with ultimate clarity through the ultra neurotic engagements of Music, Art, Literature, Film, Poetry and a good Pastrami sandwich. Why would any sane human spend so must time on a film set (Do you know how long you gotta wait until your 8 second deliverance of an edited beyond repair line gets a chance to become a professional embarrassment etched in time forever? ) or expend so much energy in a recording studio, piecing together another ode to a man or woman who could not care less how much love existed within your digestive tract? It's all about hymns and prayers and a quest for mercy and forgiveness and silence and faith. We were blessed with Charles Bukowski, Gene Chandler, Lenny Bruce, Mitch Ryder and a legion of creative explorers whose influences provided the air we breathe. So Let's Dance! This site shall explore the reaper, find a way to disarm the stench of injustice, discover some true loves and talk it all over before it's all over. So what's the worst that our desires could produce? Failure? So sue me. I'm going to require your assistance in making as much trouble for the grown-ups as possible. Let the record show that my childish heart yearns to disrupt the madness. Join me Ladies and Germs!
With Gratitude For Gena Rowlands, Nancy Sinatra, Jerry Quarry, Leo Gorcey, Arthur Alexander and Joey Heatherton, Your Splendid Bohemian, Rich Buckland.
DIG THIS WITH BILL MESNIK AND RICH BUCKLAND- THE SPLENDID BOHEMIANS
THE SPLENDID BOHEMIANS PRESENT "DOUBLE TROUBLE." THE VIRTUES OF CYNICISM AS DEMONSTRATED BY MARSHALL CRENSHAW AND THE ORLONS. DOUBLE DOWN!!
Today we live in a cynical world. It’s pervasive, this debilitating disbelief in our institutions, our once assured tenets of groundedness. Now we doubt, not only what we see, but what we hear, and even our own thoughts. Are they indeed our own? Or, have they been shaped by the unrelenting marketers and influencers? Back in the 80’s - even earlier back in the 60’s the attitudes of boredom and mistrust seemed exclusively the province of old school Europe, in particular the French, who invented the perfect word for it: Ennui. The great bon vivant, George Sanders, in his suicide note explained that he was leaving his life because he was bored.
In the following offerings we celebrate a time when cynics could be appreciated as unique and exotic. CYNICAL GIRL by Marshall Crenshaw proclaims the lure of nihilism in a poppy, irresistible interpretation. And, THEM TERRIBLE BOOTS by the Orlons makes fun of a wannabe fashionista at the crossroads of burgeoning Mod style.
MARSHALL CRENSHAW
In Marshall Crenshaw’s 1982 eponymous debut album, CYNICAL GIRL chimed out so brightly it was a paused that refreshed. The singer wants a cynical girl who has no use for the real world, and this notion, wrapped in candy colored chords, invited us to embrace the “Debbie Downers” in our lives, and to realize there’s something comforting in the dark side. Maybe we could save each other.
Crenshaw, the latter-day, second coming of Buddy Holly even portrayed the Proto-Rock God in “La Bamba” and charmed the world with his unapologetic cheeriness. But the euphoria couldn’t last. His debut outing achieved his highest chart position, but it was a bracing example of positivity while it lasted.
THE ORLONS
This quartet of street-wise, Philly teens made the trsition from middlin’ Doo-Wop practitioners to dance craze mega stars with their triple crown of chart toppers: Wah Watusi, Don’t Hang Up, and South Street, evolving into one of Cameo-Parkway’s hottest acts. THEM TERRIBLE BOOTS from 1962 was the B-side to South Street, and rode that comet’s tail into recording history. It’s an evocative glimpse into that time when the cultural landscape was in transition from the staid 50s to the super-charged 60s.
The aforementioned cynicism is reflected in the mockery to which the dude who is wearing the mod clothes is subjected. But, he was just probably a bit ahead of his time. When the only male member, (and survivor) of the group, Stephen Caldwell, repeats the title phrase in his basso profundo, the whole salty world view clicks into place.
