furthermore...

            I forgot to mention another big reason for why I started ripping old demos for this blog.  Sure I’m disgusted that history is repeatedly getting flushed down the shitter, and yes my brief obsession with music blogs prompted me to create a film deconstructing hardcore punk within the confines of a memorable LSD trip, but ultimately the thrust of the demo portion of this project has been fueled by this smoking audio recorder I bought four years ago. 

            I bought this Edirol R4 professional grade 4 channel hard drive audio recorder with the intention of using it to make more films.  Instead I’ve increasingly been making animated films which doesn’t require real time audio recording.  As a result the R4 sat on the shelf for a long while and I started feeling guilty that I spent a couple hundred bucks for this neat little toy and was barely using it.  The Edirol is my key to making moldy shit encrusted demos sound barely listenable as new mp3 files. 

            The process is fairly simple and not as time consuming as you might imagine.  I pop the cassettes into my cassette deck which I somehow never got rid of, I send the cassette’s signal through my dj mixer which has an XLR out, and the mix goes direct into the Edirol.  The DJ mixer includes a rudimentary three band EQ which has been enough so far to allow me to make a few adjustments to the quality of the signal before it hits the Edirol’s memory.  Considering the source material a three band EQ is all I really need.  And believe me some of these tapes really needed to be cleaned up.  From there I import the clips through USB into my Mac computer and I make the edits using Garageband.  I add no effects and no manipulation in Garageband aside from cutting the music into smaller mp3 files.  After Garageband the clips get imported into itunes where I then convert to mp3. I try to keep the running time the same as the running time on the cassette although I noticed recently that itunes puts a little two second delay at the end of each file which is bullshit.  Anyone know how to get rid of that?  

            During this “mastering” process I’m able to listen to the material usually three or more times which gives me enough ammunition to write my own recollections and observations.  Which is something I neglected to do with the Pinball post.  I started writing long before I heard the demo but it still turned out funny anyway.  So fuck it. 

            The reason I bring this up is to share my process so other people with a similar interest of ripping Vegas past will approach it with a level of care that the material needs.  DON’T GET ME WRONG.  This stuff ain’t Steely Dan.  Most doesn’t need a fine tooth comb to be ripped.  Case in point, I was recently approached by a Michael Larson.  He let me know that he has a stock pile of old KUNV recordings and he’s started a ripping project of his own.  He sent me a link to his first foray into this rediscovered territory and I’ve posted the link below. 

            It’s great he’s taken the time to help archive these lost recordings and I hope my “mastering” advice will go to him with a grain of salt.  This first recording is a marvel of old timey KUNV archeology.  It’s a Local’s Only broadcast from Lunch With the PMRC featuring Zub Zub.  (Ironically the other day my good friend Nate Robards sent me a cassette of a different Lunch w/ the PMRC broadcast which I’ll be sharing in the near future.)

            It’s good to hear and it’s my hope that people who come here may download give it a listen.  My main criticism of the recording is the faint nature of the sound.  The gain needs to be turned way up on this recording.  I’m unaware of how he does these rips but he may be unable to bring this recording volume any higher without including a pre-amp in the process to boost the signal.  The DJ mixer I use acts as a pre-amp for my set up but I mostly use it for the EQ since I think the Edirol has a built in pre-amp.  A stereo receiver can be used as a pre-amp as well.   I also feel a little tightening up with the editing could be in order with this mp3 file.  There are a few “dead air” gaps within the clip that make it a little hard to keep your attention.  Again, I don’t know what equipment he’s using and this is his first attempt.  Let’s hope there’ll be more.    

            I'm nitpicking.  I'm sure you'll agree it’s a wonderful thing that Michael is willing to put time into sharing these treasures.  The mp3 in question is one file that runs about 25-30 minutes in length.  The technical problems inherent in this clip are things that make the recording appear more as a curiosity as opposed to something I might want to listen to more than once.  That’s what I mean when I talk about the level of care needed to maintain the integrity of the music. 

            For these KUNV recordings maybe it is all about nostalgia?  So fuck integrity.  I personally don't mind seeing these broadcasts lumped into one file.  That's how you would hear it on cassette.  It just get's a little dicey when you want to hear one song out of the mix and you're not able to do it without manipulating it yourself.  I'm glad it's getting out there anyway.   

             Whatever the case I'm thankful to Michael and hope he continues bringing us some more hits or shits as the case may be.

Here's the link:

http://www.sendspace.com/file/vl5d28 

The Old Days (kinda sucked)

            That last post sucked.  It didn’t even have much to do with the band it highlighted and I was going on and on about what’s punk and what’s metal.  It reads like a bad/good letter to Maximum Rock and Roll.  Maybe it’s a good time to clarify for myself and others why I started this blog as I’ve mostly been flying by the seat of my pants following the inspiration where it takes me over the last two years.  Also I expect to be really busy in the next few months and so the amount of time I’ll have to write here will be limited.  Expect sporadic posts through the end of the year. 

            I’ve called myself a film maker in the past.  While that may be somewhat true I’m a communicator and film is just one medium I’m trying to use and understand.  Without rehashing my track record of completed films I’ll admit it’s not all fucking genius.  Considering I’ve never spent a dime of my own money making these films I’ll consider myself at least above average among the obscure, overly critical, stubborn, film producers out there.  I’d be hard pressed to say I’m satisfied with my output, some films have been better than others, but I’m happy with my place in the world of film.  I made it my plan through luck and design to produce as an outsider. As you might deduce I’ve long since given up any hope of having a legitimate career in film production.        

            I don’t feel pressured to do anything I don’t want to do.  But I’ve also resigned myself to continue making films with zero budget.  It’s this laisse faire attitude that keeps me neck deep in new projects.  I tend to start a project, let it get some air, put it on the shelf, then return to it months or years later to find myself newly inspired. 

            I started this film over two years ago.  It began innocently enough as a collection of stop motion experiments.  It was only after shooting and piecing it together that I started to see a bigger place for this piece to exist in my heart.  The visuals came first and from there I was instantly transported to my childhood.  The images were like shadowy snapshots from memories I’d long forgotten.  Specifically a walk home from Sandy Perri’s house after swallowing a powerful dose of LSD.  That walk, by myself from Charleston and Lamb to my house on Linn and Washington was exhilarating. liberating, and intoxicating.  The best trips happen when you’re alone. 

            I began to see this short film as an attempt to make a memory real from the ground up.  As the picture took focus it was a natural development for me to include the music of my youth as the soundtrack to this psychedelic vomit.  As luck would have it I also discovered the phenomenon of the regional or at least genre specific music blog at that time.  It was a real kick to have access to music I’d only dreamed of hearing in the past.  Hardcore punk, metal, hiphop, oldies, soul, you name it.  A cycle of music that was endless and a sizeable amount of bands I’d never even known about.  The frenetic nature of the piece and the obvious background noise to this acid trip so long ago made it apparent that hardcore would be the atmosphere of this teenage mind melt.

            Ever cognizant of the litigious nature of intellectual property I also began to see this obscure hardcore world as a goldmine of limitless sampling possibilities.  There is a bottomless pit of unknown go nowhere hardcore bands that put out one 7” or demotape and were never heard from again.  I could sample the shit out of this underworld without fear of being sued!  It was a perfect fit.

            When I first feel in love with hip hop and it’s sample based nature I’ve wanted to see someone dive in and sample hardcore punk music in a new and unusual way.  It’s too distracting for hiphop to touch it but it seems like someone with skill could make it happen.   It’s too angular and overbearing for electronic musicians to find it of any use, and quite honestly it’s too one dimensional to mix it together in any conventional sense.  It was while purusing the music blogosphere that I came to discover the work of composer John Oswald. 

              Noise and avant garde music has always been a mixed bag to me.  Most of it is a suck fest..  But the album Plexure by Oswald proved to be inspiring in many ways.  Instead of trying to use music to bring a cohesive element into the film I decided to make the film spin out into even more explosive confusion.  Akin to what hardcore at it’s best will do to you after a few hits of LSD.    

            I began doing more research to unearth more hardcore bands with which I could create this new world.  And here’s where I hit a snag.  Turns out my knowledge of hardcore punk isn’t nearly as diverse as I’d thought.  I was familiar with the two or three dozen bands that everyone seems to know but that bottomless pit of obscure hardcore that I now had access to was more daunting than I’d envisioned.  It might be no surprise to you but hardcore is pretty fucking boring if that’s all you listen to for a few weeks.  After a frustrating couple of days I reached a breaking point and realized I was going about this all wrong.  I was too focused on not being sued.  Why?  I’m out here in the middle of nowhere and will never have expectations of making money off of my films.  Why should I be worried about someone going after me for anything I’m doing.  They have to discover that I exist first. 

            I make my films for me.  Even if I was kept from screening or posting any of my films I’ll still know they exist and I’ll still care about them and want them to exist.  So FUCK intellectual property.  I’ll use anything I want.   Breaking down that final wall towards this experiment helped me to complete the film.  And if you hear your band on here and you want to sue me than you know where to reach me.  Also you’re invited to kiss my ass.    

            In the process of finishing this film grand ideas began to swirl around in my fish tank head.  I’ve always wanted to create a video installation.  This wasn’t just a short film this had the potential to become that video installation.  I got it into my head to make a series of 6 or 7 short films with similar content.  Some would be fleshed out stories others would tread the path already laid out here in terms of experimentation and the mining of memories come to life.  More of these memories could be unearthed, more could be learned from the lessons and lesions of the past.  Hardcore punk would again be a major component. 

            It was here that I got to thinking about that loud obnoxious part of my life.  There was no denying that the hardcore scene, as far as I knew about it in contemporary terms was silenced.  Now I know that’s a generalization.  There will probably always be hardcore bands through the end of time.  But as a collective push in today’s culture hardcore as a style has evolved into a myriad of genre specific scenes.  Any shred of unity still seems to manifest itself in unusual ways.  New bands crop up that tend to ape the style, old bands get back together again hopefully not to drag their name in the mud but you can never tell until you’ve already paid the cover charge.  And the history or lack of a history seemed unsettling. 

            There have been half hearted attempts to set the record straight.  It’s almost always a farce.  A shitty 90 minute documenraty does nothing to instill the real passion of those moments.  Some great oral history books have risen to the surface, and in some cases I started seeing some decent blogs that put a measure of perspective on the fleeting fury.  But where was the elusive Vegas blog?  Who was gonna be there to pick up those pieces?  Many of which were probably already buried in the landfill.  

            Why was there no regional blog making music available from the hardcore scene I was privy to?  Where could I find that shit?  Did it still exist?  There were many stories yet untold.  Who’s gonna tell those stories?  What the fuck.  

            Thunder struck and within a few months I began the blog you’re reading here.  It got to be fun and I continued it.  I’ve incorporated my creative impulses into the creation of this blog and it helps inform my continued creative impulses with film production, music production (if you want to call it that) and writing.  I don’t look at it as a rehashing of memories and I don’t see it as nostalgia.  I think I’m still making waves in my own development and maybe I’ll always be that teenage kid trippin balls ready to blow up the fucking world?  That would suit me fine.      

            More to the point this blog in some ways was an outgrowth of the tiny measure of guilt I felt to the nameless, and the famous hardcore bands whose music I used for the soundtrack of this film.  I will make more films and I will hopefully finish and present that video installation sometime in the future.     

           The original name for this film was “The Old Days (kinda sucked).”  It was a reference to hardcore, punk, and underground cultural innuendo.  As great as hardcore was back then it’s also constantly new and evolving, or it should be, so any triumphs that we experienced back then should always pale in comparison to what we’re gonna do today.  And tomorrow.  I changed the name to “Shit You Hear At Parties.”  I wish I’d stayed with the original name.  Whatever…   

            I make no pretentions about being an authority on LVHC (Las Vegas Hardcore) nor do I think I know everything about punk, metal, or all the demonic spawn of said genres.  I just like spending time thinking about the shit.  I’ve hoped others would follow suit and maybe more stories, blogs, zines, or the like would materialize.  Maybe they’ll come later but I have yet to see them at this point. 

           Ultimately some of the reasoning for this blog and this film is that it’s a way for me to give back to the kicking and screaming underground that’s continued to inspire me.  Even in silence.  

pinball demo

            I’m fairly thin on what I know about the band Pinball.  I saw them play the Rainbow Cave at least once, I’m sure I saw them a few more times but I’m not remembering the wheres and whens. 

            I liked em to the limited extent that I remember em.  I think Drew Livingood had this demo because I remember hearing it and liking it all those years ago.  They weren’t mind blowing but it was good to see the scene expanding to include different subsets of expression coming to the fore.  They were on the poppy end of things and that made em stick out from the furious, or at the very least desperate hardcore bands that were filling in the ranks in 93-95.  They looked super young and seemed to be learning as they went.  So it was poppy but sloppy.  Which had a charm.

            Those years were a rejuvenation for the next generation of Vegas bands who took the steering wheel and sent us even deeper into the desert.  Rainbow Cave as it was called (it was right off Rainbow Avenue) was the most popular desert spot for shows at that time.  

            I’ll explain again for the unfamiliar readers, y’see there were no all ages venues in Las Vegas back then.  So we’d set up a generator at these spots in the desert and have shows out in the middle of nowhere.   The sound was never super great but you couldn’t beat the atmosphere.  In retrospect I’d say it took real musicianship to play out in the sticks with just a generator, a shitty PA, and a few small lamps designating the “stage area.” Today there are legions of bands who get monitor mixes, Guitar Center, drink tickets, and … well, walls surrounding them.  It seems like it’s too easy to be in a band today.  Maybe that’s part of why there’s so many shitty bands out there today. 

            Later on the Pabco and Lossee road spots would become popular again but the Caves had more drama and more shit to fuck with plus it was even more dangerous than the other spots which gave it character.  It was on the West side which sucked but whatcha gonna do?  The cave also destroyed a lot of vehicles from people trying to make their way up to the entrance of the cave by taking the shorter jagged path east of the cave as opposed to going around the long way west of the big hill.  Never a smart move but every show someone would attempt it. Music aside I think watching people fuck up their cars was the real entertainment at the Rainbow Cave.

            The main thing I’m remembering from seeing Pinball at the cave was the gangly dude wearing a dress who stood up and started dancing halfway through their set.  He was obviously a part of their “gang” and was familiar with their music.  Maybe that’s the other thing that I’m remembering about them and that time period.  The disparate nature of the scene and really the uneven nature of all “punk scenes.” 

            I remember that “scene” of young bands from 94-97 being cozy and inviting especially compared to the horrible implosion of the hardcore scene years earlier due to nazi/anti-nazi violence that would make going to shows a gamble.  (Will I get knifed at the show tonight?)  I never saw any major fights during that window of Vegas history which was cool but the scene was far from united.  Thinking anything as ill defined and cumbersome as punk rock could induce unity of any stripe is the dream world utopian flip side to the satanic fantasy that Metal perpetuates.  As goofball as that metal mythology presents itself it to be it never strayed from it’s one dimensional roots and in fact perpetuated more unity among it’s audience than punk ever would. 

            I’m still working on my evaluation of punk and metal as social constructs so forgive me if I’m sounding goofy or smart aleclike.  I’m breaking this shit down too seriously because I still love the music and I enjoy the redundancy.  I’m also wondering if we can learn from our mistakes.  I know I’m sounding really insipid with these observations.  Making comparisons that are dated and maybe irrelevant today with the lines blurring and the true natures of both subjective genres coming in to question.   I can’t help it because I enjoy thinking about it.  I still like and respect the music and maybe you’ll agree they’re both maligned as true art forms.  But maybe the fact that they’re not seen as art is what’s made the music so valuable and meaningful?  Both types of these subterranean pop cultures never got caught up in artistic flights of fancy because most participants and fans never thought it was worth pondering.  So why not look even deeper and take all the magic away?

            As pop culture entities they are of the moment and now that moment is 20-30-40 years later.  I think it’s worth investigating and I don’t give a shit what you think.  I have to wonder if it’s still evolving.  Plus it’s hilarious to know there will be serious cultural studies about these scum bag modes of expression when we’re long gone and hardcore/punk/metal/etc. will finally be seen as art.  That’s if the society doesn’t collapse and we all revert to barbarians.  Maybe it will take a collapse before it will finally be seen as art?  That only makes sense.

            My point and academic boner here is in regards to the character flaw endemic to the nebulous “punk scene.”  And I guess it’s because as a more intellectual “movement” I tend to expect more from punk and therefore I’m more disappointed when it doesn’t pan out.  Metal never makes those claims and yet the polished nature of the musicianship brings another level of irony in that it has more gloss and ultimately more nuance to make it appear more artistic. 

            The punk scene propels itself forward as a collection of cliques.  Sometimes united sometimes fighting against itself.  And admittedly, against it’s better nature, it tends to be a collection of clichés.  It’s these cliques that are the strength and weakness of the genre.  It’s unstable and the best of it should always be changing and pushing forward therefore as an experiment, and as a potential powder keg, it can never have the bucks and perhaps the balls behind it that Metal does to make it more understandable to a mass audience.  Because of it’s low budget nature the underground is always something you find out about if you’re in the know.  As a result it’s got an elitist vibe built in to it’s very nature that for good or bad infuses the character.  Some of it is self conscious grand standing because the “punk band” can never be huge in the public eye.  As a result only the cool kids know about the bands.  It’s a self esteem device that makes punk seem a thousand times cooler than it really is/was.  The audience is a part of the underground and that’s where it festers/ages the “little secret” that is so valuable to the scene.  This elitism rears it’s head when the favorite “underground” band crosses the tipping point and is suddenly accepted outside the boundary of where the band first began.  Then you can hear “sellout” on the lips of the betrayed fan who were there when it first started.  Something you’d never hear from a Metal audience. 

            Metal has no sell out language in it’s vocabulary.  Because it has no pretentions about seeing the performers as anything but rock stars.  Whereas one of punk’s firmly held tenets, if such a thing really exists, is the concept of destroying the rock star by tearing down the wall of audience/performer.  Maybe punk even tries it’s hand at destroying rock and roll itself?  I can’t theorize too much on the agenda of punk rock.  It’s too broad in it’s scope.  And ultimately maybe it shouldn’t have too much of an agenda?  The big agenda eventually lead to fascism in the LVHC scene in the late 80’s.  Hardcore destroyed itself when it took itself too seriously.  I can’t speak to other scenes but I’m convinced nazism was a national obsession that eventually creamed the hopes that hardcore could mean much of anything outside being a goofy albeit violent and passionate explosion of creativity that left a  lot of casualties.  Um.  Yeah a trend.   

            And how is this relevant to us now?  Hardcore is history.  Metal somehow survives.  And I don’t want to breakdown metal into it’s divisions (hair bands/death/black/crossover)  and speak to them all.  The fact remains the metal audience has always been united.  For what?  Who gives a shit?  Beer.  Drugs.  Pussy.  Satan.  Basic stuff.  It’s not intellectual.  It’s not punk.  And that’s part of where punk can never find it’s unity.  It’s too wrapped up in details.  And too wrapped up in being cool while acting like it’s not acting cool. 

            And it’s the clique.  It’s the secret.  It’s the start of the hipsterization of all culture.  It started in punk.  And it makes the whole world cool.  And if I’m being honest with myself and my writing I have to share my own elitist feelings to deflate my ego a little and show just how punk I really am.  It pisses me the fuck off.  The self conscious tick of knowing that I was there.  And now everyone’s there.  It’s a part of the culture.  And perhaps there is no counterculture anymore?  It makes me wretch to say from my standpoint, being in my late 30’s watching the nobodies of the world get tattoos, wear their punk fuck t-shirts, piercing their fucking checks.  When I stood up and did that as a teenager I was threatened with physical violence.  The act of doing anything of that sort was a threat.  It’s too easy to be different now.  I was different before you were!  Petty?  Yep.  Spiteful to the next generation?  Check.  Convinced I know the truth and everyone else is full of shit?  Yeah Yeah.  I’m sounding conservative.  I’m sounding like I know it all.  Nothing is more pathetic than an aging hipster.  Believe it or not this analysis can get even more juvenile if I let myself go which is why I’m dropping it here.  And I wonder why these things can’t be taken seriously as art.  Not that I give two shits about art.  Or punk for that matter.  What’s worse than hating punk for not being able to change the world?  Going to a Metal show and hearing that racist, sexist, fucktard of a community try to have an actual conversation between bands.  Maybe it’s time to put all my hope back into hiphop?  Again.  

    

            What does all this have to do with Pinball.  Very little.  And I don’t mean to paint them with the “stuck up punker” brush.  I’m just using them as a springboard for another stagedive/nosedive into the abyss that is my ego.  What could be more punk or metal than that?  Plus it’s one of the only things I remember about them.  Hearing some elitist douche from my specific scene tell me how stuck up they were for not trying to get closer to his clique.  I can feel my PHD in Punk/Metal studies becoming a reality already.  And I ain’t paying a god damn thing for it you higher education motherfuckers! 

            I’m not trying to single out Pinball by any stretch.  I never talked to em so I don’t even know their story.  They played a few shows with the other bands and then they sauntered off retaining their own identity when I think about it.  Good for them.  But maybe bad for the rest of us because we didn’t get to see em play very often.  

            I started writing this crap weeks before I finally got the demo in the mail.  As mentioned they came across as sloppy/poppy.  Later on they got to be tighter and they later changed the name to the Grrr Meyows.  They weren’t as good as Pinball from my recollection.  But maybe I just thought that because we didn’t hang out?

            I saw Steely Dan play a few weeks ago and it got me to thinking a tiny bit about the audio fidelity of demos I’ve done so far.  The sound quality is mostly awful but I maintain it’s mostly because the source tapes are shitty cassette dubs that might’ve been listened to exclusively in a sun baked car stereo back in the day.  Sometimes those cars got wrecked.   So it sounds like shit.  But what kind of shit?  I took the mids out a tiny bit and beefed up the highs and lows in the mix.  It’s still lo-fi crap.  Which makes it sound pretty great for what it is.  The beginning of the tape has the first few songs starting out way overblown and then immediately compressed.  It’s awful.  Or awfully good.  Depends on your aesthetics fucko.

            What is it?  Sugary sweet candy of a sleazy variety.  Sleazy insomuch that they're sounding really bubblegum but talking about gettin some in almost every song which I totally respect.  That backdrop of sleez is surrounded by innocence that's pretty hard to resist.  The first song is about playing Pacman at the Chuck E Cheese and that's just adorable.  It's not the standard pop punk crap that was vomited all over the late 90's "punk" style nor is it powerpop.  I'll stick with my gut reaction and call it sleazy bubblegum pop for lack of more telling adjectives or more divisive genre classifications.

       I love the simplicity of the whole thing though.  Lot’s of naïve songs that come off simple, direct, and it might make you want to masterbate.  There’s catchy pop moments and some influences might seem apparent.  I hear the Misfits a tad but maybe that’s just me?  It's inventive and rough.  But yeah it doesn't stray far from what you've heard before.  Maybe that makes it even more valuable?  I’m pleased to see none of the songs goes much over the one minute mark.  Which makes this a keeper.  Not something I’ll listen to forever but you might go for it.  Still I think I’ll be listening to Eric B and Rakim tonight after this. 

            Special thanks to the cute girl who sent this to me in the mail.  She wishes to remain anonymous.

Download this pinball demo below

1. pacman

2.  i wanna take out sally too

3.  9-volt

4.  pinkeye

5.  ask her friends

6.  c'mon and dance the hootchie-coo

7.  there goes that girl

8.  i don't wanna be with you

9.  teenage pornstar

NOTBAD Film Series

            Nevadans Organized To Better Address Diversity (NOTBAD) was the ridiculous name we came up with for the nonprofit that was gonna be a big part of our getting a Low Power FM Radio license from the FCC in the mid 90’s.  It was a goofy acronym that reflected some of our disillusionment and mistrust about how things were going with that process.  After a year of meetings, debates, rallies, and benefit shows we made a lot of noise in the community and raised enough money to start the non-profit but the odds of Free Radio Las Vegas happening became slim over time with the lack of real money being the main issue as it always is in this country. 

            Eventually the idea of a radio station came to a grinding halt and Free Radio Las Vegas became NOTBAD.  As corny as the name sounds it made us a legit cog in the system which gave us a little momentum to continue doing shit for the community, and for kicks.  The name also came to represent our trickster subversive nature and the fundamental reasoning behind FRLV.  It's hard to believe that for all the media outlets there are in Las Vegas there just aren't enough real community voices being heard.  Particularly at that time since there was no cable/community access television in Las Vegas and KUNV had recently changed it’s format silencing a huge portion of the youth voice.  We felt like we were being forced to be an audience to messages that never came close to representing our lives and in the interim we were never given access to the stage.  

            Through a stroke of luck NOTBAD was able to partner with the Las Vegas- Clark County Library District to host an ongoing film series.  This became the main push for NOTBAD and it had some fire behind it with added financial support from the Nevada Arts Council.

            In the beginning I was in charge of programming and so I made it a priority to include the most outlandish controversial films I could find.  But I also wanted to expose Vegas to great works that Vegas residents didn't know about.  This was a direct inspiration from the role KUNV had played in educating me about musical culture when KUNV was at it’s peak in diversity.  I tried to pass that inspiration on in the form of programming good films which were deserving of attention.

            This post spotlights the flyers I made for the series from 2000-2002 because I think we made a positive impact on the community we made some serious statements that I think are worth sharing.  Plus the films are worth checking out.

            I tried to keep the advertising informative and slightly informal as you can see.  Looking back I think some of the writing is just awful on these flyers.  Especially the one for the Kids Are All Right.  It’s embarrassing how bad the text on that one came out.    

        Each month I struggled and juggled to find new themes and pair up films to produce a cohesive program.  It wasn’t always spot on but it was good considering the limited amount of research materials I had and the limitations of our budget.
        At the time the library district had a blanket licensing agreement which allowed us to show any movie we wanted so long as we didn't charge admission and the film was made available for check out through the library.   This was an incredible rare opportunity.  The library still has an ongoing film series but over time they've been forced to narrow the parameters of what can be screened to be within the legal guidelines of motion picture presentation and copyright law.  We were lucky to take full advantage of this window to show some amazing films which are rarely screened anywhere in the world let alone the city of Las Vegas.     

             I always hoped that our series would push the library in the direction of acquiring more significant films for the collection.  These "off the radar" films are still an important part of the collection but for a number of years the library made more of a priority of obtaining multiple copies of first run hollywood films which made the library almost seem like a glorified Blockbuster video.  Now that the library has a new executive director let's hope they start stocking more intelligent fare.

            I wasn’t always a fan of all these films but I respected the work that we presented.  An example I give is the film Fando and Lis by Alehandro Jodorowsky.  To this day I will admit that I don’t exactly like this film.  It’s ugly and incredibly dark.  But I respect the film.  Fando and Lis was only the second film we showed at the very beginning of the series!  We had over 100 people in attendance when we started the film and over half the audience walked out.  I think it’s a true measure of how powerful the art is if it can induce that kind of a reaction.  Even if it's a negative reaction.  

      The films shown above in the series "The Glory of War... The Horror of War" were perhaps our greatest achievement in blatant protest.  These films were shown a few weeks before the invasion of Iraq.  Come and See is an incredible film.

            I've almost completely stopped watching movies all together.  I find I just don’t have the time or I’m not willing to make time unless someone gives me a recommendation.  Here’s a few films I’d recommend watching if you got the time.  

          Enough praise and thanks cannot be heaped onto Kristy Price, Suzanne Scott, the Las Vegas- Clark County Library District, and the Nevada Arts Council for supporting this program and understanding it's value to the Las Vegas community.