Two years ago, apparently, the Brooklyn Museum staged a small exhibition of no more than 50 photographs entitled "Goodbye Coney Island".
"The collection "traces the evolution of this fabled part of New York over the past 125 years," over which time it has undergone many transformations."
I would have liked to have seen that. This is where the internet excels; as a means of bridging the geographical gulf.
ho•mun•cu•lus |hɒˌmʌŋkjʊləs|
noun ( pl. -li |-lʌɪ|or -les )
a very small human or humanoid creature.
• historical a supposed microscopic but fully formed human being from which a fetus was formerly believed to develop.
ORIGIN mid 17th cent.: from Latin, diminutive of homo, homin- ‘man.’
Glenn Jones: guitars; Chris Fujiwara: bass;
Chris Guttmacher: drums, percussion; Robin Amos: vocals, synthesizer.
Chris Guttmacher: drums, percussion; Robin Amos: vocals, synthesizer.
And, yes, the second featured track from this indispensable album does sound uncannily like Krautrockers, the mighty Can.
▼ CUL DE SAC: STRANGER AT CONEY ISLAND from "ECIM" LP (Northeastern) 1993 (US)
▼ CUL DE SAC: HOMUNCULUS from "ECIM" LP (Northeastern) 1993 (US)
PURCHASE ECIM
3 comments:
A couple of nights ago my son appealed to me to download "The Warriors", a Walter Hill movie which begins and ends on Coney Island.
I remember going to the cinema to see it in 1979.
What's appealing about it now, in all its staged juvenile machismo, is watching those actors who went on to star as attorneys in "LA Law" trying so desperately to strike a pose. "A Clockwork Orange" it isn't.
great photos, I always hoped it'd look like this. Most things look more glamorous on a backglass.
I have an Eightball deluxe & a Fathom sitting in another room, not played for years now, but I used to be an addict.
The photos are great, in a very "Angel Heart" kind of way - with the nose shades ? - which is how I always imagine Coney Island.
I'd have posted Van's quiet celebration of it too, were it not for the (polite) run in I had with the Web Sheriff many moons ago.
I love Pinball tables. Especially those 70s ones; I remember once I was convinced I'd contracted scabies after playing on an especially scabrous machine at a seaside location for hours.
Post a Comment