I photograph a fair bit of politics in the Nation’s Capital and for one reason or another I seem to photograph Liberal Leader Michael Ignatieff more often then most. Also see Living in Opposition.

Portrait for Maclean’s Magazine – softbox high in front

Soup kitchen for Reuters

Daycare for Reuters

Farmers market for Macleans Magazine.

Scrum after a speech for Reuters.

He is generally pretty good to work with – although I am pretty sure he dislikes us despite the fact that he was a journalist once upon a time. His wife Zsuzsanna is great for just going about whatever it is she is doing while we are around. She acknowledges that we are there – she gave me an apple once – but understands that we want to be kindly ignored in certain scenarios. It is always nice going to Stornoway (the official residence) as their head of staff Joshua is always offering refreshments and fresh baked goodness.

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Article courtesy of signonsandiego.com written by Michael Stetz on November 14, 2009.

I petted a pit bull the other day.

Normally, I keep a healthy distance, but a person who cares for such dogs told me to check one out, show it some love.

You might be surprised.

The pit bull’s name is Patrick and he’s stuck in a local pound.

And what do you know, he wagged his tail and licked my hand.

I’m not sure what his chances are of finding a good home, though, given the reputation that pit bulls have. One pit bull expert puts it at 1 in 600.

Some of the blame for that belongs to people like football star Michael Vick, who’s in town today.

You know, of course, what Vick did to pit bulls.

He’s now playing for the visiting Philadelphia Eagles, trying to restore his image and financial footing. He’s making a lot of yardage in the effort.

Last week, a federal appeals court ruled he could keep more than $16 million in bonuses he received from his former team, the Atlanta Falcons.

Touchdown!

But what about the type of dogs that are commonly used in the vicious blood sport that Vick once participated in? How are they doing?

How’s Patrick, a 3-year-old pit bull?

I’ll bet Vick is enjoying a nice hotel room during his stay in San Diego. I’ll bet he’s getting room service. I’ll bet he has nice fluffy towels.

Patrick paces around on a hard floor. He’s in a metal cage.

He was one of about a dozen or so pit bulls and pit bull mixes I saw at the San Diego Humane Society’s shelter in Mission Valley.

Oh, many pits are adopted out, but it can be challenging. Many consider such dogs to be nothing short of monsters.

To be sure, over the years, they’ve been responsible for some horrifying attacks on people and other dogs.

Some places, including Camp Pendleton and other military bases, have banned them because they are considered too mean.

Many insurers won’t offer home insurance if you own a pit.

But advocates say, don’t blame the dog, blame the owners and backyard breeders who have ballooned their numbers.

And blame people like Vick.

Vick’s appearance at today’s game is causing protest. The San Rafael-based organization, In Defense of Animals, is staging an action today at Dog Beach in Ocean Beach.

If Vick, a backup quarterback, enters the game, he might get booed. But, who knows, he might get cheered. His jersey was the fourth-best-selling one earlier in the season.

I know he served 23 months of federal prison time for running a dogfighting ring and got whacked financially, but I still think he’s getting off easy.

Pit bulls aren’t.

It was Bill Smith, the CEO of Main Line Animal Rescue near Philadelphia, who advised me to visit a pit bull. Smith ran an ad in our newspaper this week, asking others to do that as well.

They need the love, he said.

He’s also donating five bags of dog food to the Helen Woodward Animal Center for every time that Vick gets tackled in today’s game.

He did the same thing for a Washington, D.C., shelter when the Eagles traveled to that city, to play the Redskins.

Vick was tackled three times in the Redskins game — not a lot of dog food. So Smith is also welcoming donations, to beef up the effort. For the Washington game, he received 4 tons of dog food.

Smith is on the front lines of this ongoing pit bull tragedy.

Last week, his shelter received a fighting pit that had been set on fire because she was past her prime. She didn’t make it.

Vick killed dogs, too. The investigation into the ring showed that he and his cohorts hanged, drowned and electrocuted them.

It’s why Micaela Myers of Pit Bull Rescue San Diego can barely stomach the idea of Vick being in town. Myers’ organization will not protest, though.

Vick is working with the Humane Society of the United States and speaking to youths to discourage them from dog fighting. That’s blunted some activism.

“There needs to be outreach,” Myers said. “If he can help, then that’s good.”

But she doesn’t think he’s really remorseful. She thinks he’s doing this to re-establish his football career.

Myers owns two pit bulls, both adopted. Her organization finds homes for about 100 pit bulls a year.

Nicole Rattay has to fight the stigma, too. She runs Just A Dog, another local pit bull rescue agency.

Rattay is also caring for one of Vick’s dogs, Iggy, who was found tied up at the Virginia home he used as his dog-fighting base.

Iggy is still suffering emotional scars, she said. He’s a doll, said Rattay, who sees one bright spot in all of this.

“The case with Vick has allowed the public to see these dogs as victims,” she said. “Before they were seen as complaisant or willing partners.

“They’re not. They’re just dogs.”

So at halftime, hit the pound. And pet a pit bull. It won’t kill you.

Some good facts in this article. Not the most well written however that last line made the article for me.

We’ll get you posted on what is to come on this blog.  We have a handful of writers from all sport areas so stay tuned.

A little bit of this, a little bit of that

I picked up my custom-fitted ear plugs from the audiologist last Wed. The test he gave me the week before confirmed that my left ear’s hearing was about 15% less than my right one. Not sure where that % came from but he showed me a chart and the difference was obvious.

What did it? Not the Motorhead show, nor the Metallica one, or the Mastodon show or even the summer ones; it was the Punching Nuns gig back in mid-October where I stood beneath a ceiling mounted speaker. I cursed myself for days and weeks afterward.

Significance? A week earlier at the Larry CK debacle, my friend Jeff told me that few bands even try to do AC/DC numbers because unless they’re very good, their efforts sound like shit. So, a week later I’m watching this band do a remarkable job on about 4 AC/DC covers, among them Riff Raff, and they sounded great which drew me closer like a moth to the flame.

Good news from the audiologist
“The worst thing you can do is worry. Your ears are actually really tough and they do make a comeback, over time. So far, it’s been 3 weeks…..give ‘em 6.” Then what? Do I start to worry at that point? Even though it does no good? Mind you, I have noticed a small decrease in the ‘ringing’ over the last little while.

The Plugz….
An L.A.-based Mexican-American punk band featured prominently in one of my Top Ten All-Time Movie list, the one and only ‘Repo Man.’ Listen to them back Iggy in the movie’s theme song.

The other plugs reduce noise by 15db which doesn’t sound like much until you know that at every 3db, the protection is 2x or 200% ….or something like that. Numbers aren’t my thing, words are so let’s just say that I can still hear the ‘high end’ resonances regardless of whether I’m high or not. How’s that?

I haven’t done a fucking thing this week and I just figured out why just now at 9:57pm. The book I bought to teach me iMovie was too fucking complicated! I kept trying to get into the book a 2nd time extra heavy-like but it had a forboding quality to it – like I hadn’t got anywhere with it 2 months ago.

And so it sat…..Today, I spent 6 hours writing notes as it told me how to do 1 thing in 6 ways without actually telling me how to carry out a certain task! The book reminded me of this word processing demonstration I watched back in ‘84. That was when I was marooned in Oshawa selling computers retail after my first old car crack-up on the #401. It was a 1967 AMC something or other and it had a huge motor and 4 barrels of fun. I’d leave my place in West Toronto at 8:15a and arrive in Oshawa round 45 minutes later. Does that seem a little impossible?

Not if you knew that as soon as I entered Pickering town limits, I gunned the engine to 100-110 mph, and made it to Osh-kosh-B’gosh in 15 minutes. That went on for 2 weeks before the car’s fan blade sheared off and inflicted significant damage to a multitude of the engine’s protruding parts like Jack Ruby’s bullet did to Lee Harvey Oswald’s inner gut.

Anyway, I digress. This software guy did this 45 minute demo of absolutely everything the Samna Word III (I even remember the product’s name) software could do without asking my customer a fucking thing and then his hands started dancing all over the keyboard like he was Liberace or that guy in Shine.

And what was his point? That he was one smart demo king? That he knew the program front to back and could prove it? I don’t even think he asked the poor bastards (me and my customer) a closing question. He just packed up his gear and drove back to Toronto. So that’s what this big book is like. The author badly wanted to prove that he knew everything about the iMovie but in the end, my end, I was no further along. No matter, they got my $50 and that’s all that mattered. However, I will rip the book in an Amazon review and get my own back, then rip it in my blog, then maybe rip ‘it’ up! No, I won’t; I’ll use it as a reference book.

So, I gotta buy yet another fucking book, the one I’d bought originally then took back because ……it seemed too simple. Ah yes, my INTP tendencies do me in once again.

Then There’s my new Mattress….
I’ve turned into King Snooze. I also figure that part of my malaise was due to the alcohol poisoning from last weekend. Since bars usually use the cheapest gut rot they can find, short of lighter fluid, the vodka mixed into my free drink was not only grain/wheat-based but maybe cost $10 per 40 ouncer.

…plus there was that other little problem…….what!? What problem? The problem with my bike seat. Last Saturday night, after a 2 hour ride, I stopped into my regular spot to pick up supplies, 1/2 of which I put into my cage mounted alongside the rear wheel, the other stuff I put into a knapsack. Over the next mile or so, I leaned forward with all that weight on my back….which acted to …. compress my……urethra…..in the process. I don’t think there’s an equivalent in female anatomy but in guy’s, it resides right under our jewel sack. So Sunday, M, T, W were extremely unpleasant days, especially as I was trying – often vainly – to eke from my body that bar’s crankcase cleaner vodka.

All better now – or mostly anyway. Went to see my doctor this past W and he diagnosed it. “Hopefully, you haven’t done any permanent damage,” as he wrote a script referral for the urologist downstairs – but they haven’t called back. “Maybe he’ll have to give you a cyto” and looked at me as if to say, “You’re not going to like that…” and I didn’t ask him to elaborate. Sometimes, ’nuff said.

Não sei se foi porque eu tinha muita vontade de ir a um festival em um parque de diversões que eu amay o Planeta Terra desse ano. Achei ótima a locação, o parque funcionando durante as apresentações, o serviço okayam, sem tumulto e nem a chuva que caiu durante parte da noite conseguiu tombar com o evento que foi ótimo. Me diverti pencas nos brinquedos que praticamente não havia fila nenhuma e dava pra vc ir zilhões de bilhões de vzs. Pelo menos eu fui, rs! O parque estava todo iluminado, com a praça de alimentação funcionando, muitos bares espalhados pelos dois lados do parque além do estacionamento onde rolava o palco principal. Muita gente bonita, todos os hipsters de SP estavam lá. Foi divertido ir na montanha russa com o pessoal da moda de SP, eu pelo menos achei bem digno! Ex Vjs que parecem não conhecer o tempo e nunca envelhecerem como a Sabrina (dos tempos do Disk MTV, Top 10), Gastão (amor de adolescente da minha ameeega) e o Edgard que eu tive que fazer a tiete pq não é sempre que o cara aparece assim do seu lado no meio do nada neam? Ele e a Marina Person são os meus símbolos para a MTV aqui no Brasil, fatão! A nova geração tmbm estava lá…mas nem confiança pq hj os tempos são outros! Sorry! Fora que foi uma delícia dançar em frente ao Castelo dos Horrores, com música boa, maçã do amor e algodão doce cor de rosa neam? Eu achei chic, achei digno e achei delícia.

Copacabana Club só deu para pegar o final do show pq foi quando eu cheguei no festival, mas pelo menos deu pra dançar os hits mais conhecidos da banda, que vestiam figurino fundamento do pessoal do B.Luxo. Ahazô! Achei belo!

Primal Scream foi divertideeenho mas não empolgou. Muita colocação? Loucureeenhas? Não sei, só sei que foi meio assim neam? Mas eu dancei mesmo assim e nem confiança. Achei okayam. E perdi parte do show brincando igual a uma criança no Playcenter, só percebi que já estava rolando enquanto estava no looping de uma das montanhas russa. Aliás, adorei a idéia de deixar o brinquedos mais legais funcionando durante os show, foi bem diverteeedo, sem fila e com cara de show na Europa. Ponto para a organização! Eu pelo menos me diverti pencas!

Sonic Youth é sempre Sonic Youth neam? O show foi meio que sem grandes hits, mais no fundamento do álbum mais recente mesmo. Só que as guitarras, o som da banda eu diria que é impossível de se confundir. E Kim Gordon? Linda, lôra, tah magrona, tah gatona e tah gostosa e continua sendo uma das minhas musas do rock. E eu me pergunto: Hey Joni, when will all these dreams come true? Foi o show imperdível da noite, fato!

Iggy fez alôka neam? Só consegui assistir o começo e o final do show dele…tudo porque o Ting Tings começou quase no mesmo horário e ai já viu neam? Mas deu pra ver o começo do show com um dos monstros vivos do rock e o final, com direito a bundeeenha do Iggy e tudo mais. Euri e quero ser ameeego do Iggy, me liga tah?

Patrick Wolf foi loucurinhas neam? Uma versão menino de Lady Gaga no quesito figurino pelo menos e menino talentoso viu? Toca vários instrumentos e me fez dançar um pouco, mas foi bom ouvi-lo do alto dos brinquedos do parque tmbm. Achei chic!

O show do Ting Tings foi incrível tmbm, super dançante, pra divertir mesmo. Claro que tocaram o seu álbum praticamente inteiro e todos os hits é claro, mas foi um show curto eu diria. Deu vontade de mais! E me lembrou muito o CSS, achei o mesmo fundamento. Mas achei digno e me diverti pencas. When nothing makes you feel good, then nothing makes you feel good.

O set do N.A.S.A foi absurdo e certamente um dos pontos altos da noite. Com uma batida incrível os DJs colocaram o Playcenter para dançar e muito ao som de muita música eletrônica com fundamento rock e hip hop, com samplers conhecidos e que todos nós por algum motivos temos uma relação afetiva com eles. A video art do show foi uma atração a parte. Quase chorei com o little MJ ainda na época dos Jacksons 5, mas foi quase. Eu chorei mesmo e literalmente com a imagem do Kurt Cobain, gigante no centro do telão e um sampler de “Smells Like Teen Spirit”, com um dos rifles de guitarra mais conhecidos do mundo do rock. Chorei como criança, me emocionei pencas e me senti como tal, grunge e aos 13 novamente. Lindo! E como se tudo isso não fosse o suficiente, a presença tímida de Spike Jonze (sim, ele estava lá, eu não disse pra vcs?) no cantinho do palco, fazendo alguns takes da performance e da platéia e sendo obrigado a ouvir o meu griteeenho irritante de “I Love U Spike”, que ele retribui com um sorriso mais tímido ainda e um pequeno aceno. Quase morri! Mas eu tinha que me declarar para ele neam? Afinal, era o Spike Jonze C@r@lho! O homem que fez o brilhante “Being John Malcovich”, além de ter feito o recentemente lançado “Where The Wild Things Are” pra mim é claro, eu sei que foi. E esse foi o meu encontro com Spike Jonze, que eu vou contar um dia para os meus netos, ahhhhhh vô!

No final do show dos caras, todo mundo foi para o palco, técnicos de som, luz, organizadores e Sipke Jonze pulando e dançando ao som do excelente set dos Djs mais incríveis do momento, prontofalei!. E eu amo o Jégonza tmbm, só pra registrar!

ps: Edgard, eu tin amo! Adoro o seu circo, a sua caragem ou whatever e acho que o horário do Altas Horas deveria ser seu, prontofalei!

O saldo da noite foi superpositivo ainda mais pra mim que nem iria no show e meio que ganhei o convite em cima da hora de uma super querida da minha sala da pós que fez a phina pra mim. LOVE quando eu não crio muitas expectativas e acabo me surpreendendo? Música boa, diversão…LOVE! Achei a locação perfeita, fácil de chegar pra todo mundo, fikdik ae para os próximos festivais hein?

E se no ano que vem rolar de novo e no mesmo lugar eu estarei lá! Guilt recomenda!

E tragam o Kings Of Leon pel’ amour!

Check out this editorial written by Barbara Kay. (H/T Andrew)

She doesn’t like the way that feminists discriminate against men. In the editorial, she considers the Liberal party of Canada’s plan to use government power to discriminate against men.

Excerpt:

As for a gender commissioner, if the Women’s Caucus really wants to go there, they might start by recommending the abolition of equity programs in university. Enrolment in most programs is so female-skewed, an outsider might think men have fallen victim to some mysterious plague. And given the dropout rates of boys, one might call it a plague, because gender-wise the education system is sick. Boys are disadvantaged K-12, with teaching methods geared for girls and a very poor understanding of how boys learn best. Just this week Toronto proposed sweeping changes to education to make up for years of apathy toward the eroding performance gap.

Maybe this putative gender commissioner could ask why Ontario health units only screen for abuse in incoming female patients 12 and older, not male patients, even though male adolescents suffer nearly as much sexual abuse as girls.

And how about a thorough investigation of the family court system, where almost 90% of contested custody cases end up with sole custody going to mothers? How about support for equal parenting, a long-overdue gender-fair initiative that can’t get traction because groups like the Liberal Women’s Caucus aren’t interested in gender fairness?.

Because when the Women’s Caucus says “gender” they mean “women’s interests.” If an honest gender commissioner were ever appointed, he or she would recommend the complete dismantlement of all women’s government-funded lobby groups.

This article made me think of how a man is 184% more likely to die if he gets prostate cancer in Canada, where single-payer health care is politicized and extremely anti-male, when compared with the free market system in the United States. I am wondering how it helps women to constantly overlook the needs of men. Don’t women have sons, fathers, brothers and husbands?

By the way, if woman wants to impress a man, a good start would be to read books on the issues that Barbara talks about and then start to write and advocate for men in the public square. Stephen Baskerville’s “Taken Into Custody” is a good start. Or Jennifer Roback Morse’s “Love and Economics”. Women need to make marriage seem reasonable to men, and the best way to do that is to convince the man that you understand all about marriage and parenting.

New image in the camouflage photography contest

This guy is good at going incognito! Lil bugger was pretty darn fast too and apparently not a real huge fan of having his picture taken by a mere hum …
Where’s Iggy?!? photography picture

east meets west

작년에 이미 그 뜨거운 열기의 현장을 맛보았던 나이키의 연중행사 휴먼레이쓰!

올해도 어김없이 작년보다 조금 늦은 10월에 여의도에서 열리게 되었다.

작년에는 음악을 들려주는 지점이 스타트지점 바로 다음이었지만 올해에는

마지막 휘니쉬 지점에서 밴드들과 함께 자리를 지켰다.하나둘씩 결승점을

통과하는 모습과 같이 손을잡고 동시에 들어오는 커플,환한 웃음을 보내는 사람들을

보고있자니 가슴 한켠이 뭉클해졌다.뭉클해진 사이 나도모르게 어느샌가 둘리리믹스를

틀고있었고 사회를 맡았던 “붐”씨가 따라 불러주셨다.매년 이 정열적인

레이스를 볼 수 있어서 기분이 참 좋다.나중에는 나도 한번 도전해보고 싶다.

나이키,360식구들 수고하셨습니다!

Lately every time I get in my car and listen to the radio, I inevitably have to listen to those cheesy Ben Bridges engagement ring stories where everyone sounds all smug and delighted with themselves. So here’s me dispelling the importance of an engagement ring when you’ve just not that kind of couple.

For one thing rings are a bit of a sore spot with Iggy because I kind of always misplaced my promise ring. The first ring he got me was a silver heart one from Tiffany in high school and I pretty much lost it every other week.  So not only was he pissed that I had convinced him to pay so much for silver, it usually went M.IA every couple of days.

Iggy: Why aren’t you wearing your ring?

Me: Huh?

Iggy: Why aren’t you wearing your ring?

Me: What ring?

Iggy: ( silent death stare)

Me: Oh that ring. I um, my nails are chipped.

Iggy:…………..

Me: I can’t wear it or it’ll  call attention to myself.

Iggy:*sigh* When was the last time you saw it?

And usually I couldn’t recall. I didn’t know when or where I had last seen my ring. But usually it turned up in a week or so. So of course the one time I remember exactly when and where I wore it ( I was at home doing laundry and the detergent was making it slip out) was the last time I saw it.

And Iggy’s response to that was I wasn’t ever getting a nice engagement ring because I’m horrible with them and he’d rather use all that money to buy me something I don’t lose every other day. Which upset me all sorts of different ways because my only memorable goal in life from my childhood was to get a ring bigger than my sisters to shut her face up. I didn’t say it was a good goal, but all the same it remained every time she talked shit about somebody else’s ring and admired her own.

Then Iggy got tired of guys hitting me when I wasn’t with him and me lamenting that if only I had something indicating I was spoken for like I DON’T KNOW A RING ON MY FOURTH FINGER, it might make for less male interactions in my day.

And because of my track record he got me a plain solitaire on a platinum band. And I made it plain that this ring was not to be my engagement ring, because of the whole shut my sisters’ face thing that I needed to happen. But after awhile I acknowledged that it was a little annoying to wear all the time because of how it would get caught on my sleeves or how it kind of stabbed babies  and made them cry when I played with them.

“So you want me to spend thousands on a ring, a little piece of jewelery that doesn’t even DO anything, and you’re not going to wear it everyday? Is that what you’re trying to tell me Grace?”

After I finished rolling my eyes I explained to him how a ring is an testament of a man’s love, how saving and shopping for the perfect ring was something that just had to be done, and it didn’t matter if it was useless and I probably wouldn’t wear it very often, that was completely besides the point, plus Claudia’s face needed to be shut up.

Then he pointed out how I’m not nearly as pretentious or stuck up as she is, how it was just assumed I would be since she was grooming me to be Claudia 2.0 since I was a baby, but  she lost me somewhere along the line in high school when I became a gothy, alternative hippie with  only selective designer tastes, and the only thing that really clung to me was the desire to outshine her ring and wedding but that technically that was more me being an asshole than something I really wanted. Plus nothing would ever shut Claudia’s face up, she was fully capable of getting another ring, divorcing and remarrying Gilbert for the sake of having a better wedding than me, all this after I go through all the trouble of having a nice wedding when really I don’t even like weddings or dancing or people very much for that matter, and theoretically if something did occur to shut Claudia’s face up, where on earth would we get our entertainment?

As I mulled that over he threw the clincher out there.

” I’d feel better if I bought you something you’d really like. What about that stupid macbook pro you want and a new phone”

“Oooooh yeah!”

“Geek!!!!!!!!”.

And a couple of weeks ago it was time to go wedding band shopping. Iggy refused to get me one without me there, his reason being ” you know how you are” so we went to the Jewelery District in L.A.  I really had it in my head that I wanted a dark titanium band after finding absolutetitanium.com. The specific ring I wanted was this:

Isn’t it awesome looking?!  Plus I thought it would be really cool to have a unique metal as a ring.  But unfortunately it only looks good online. When we walked around and asked to look at titanium rings they were all ugly and cheap looking and they cost way too much for what it looked like. So we started from scratch and when it came down to it, I liked men’s rings more than the ones for women. The only problem was they were too big for my little finger. They all basically took up half my finger which wouldn’t exactly be practical even if it didn’t look ridiculous.

We wandered around for about half an hour when we met an awesome jeweler. I really wish I remembered the name of the place or his section but I’ll get it next time we go to pick up Iggy’s ring.  Anyway he showed me rings and then when I wasn’t really that interested in them and asked for something less shiny he said “You know what, you look like a rough girl, like you’d beat your husband up if he didn’t take out the trash, let me show you our hammered white gold styles” And then he pulled out this ring from another display.

He went on to explain that this style was normally used in men’s rings but this ring was small enough to not dominate my hand. And I had to contain myself because Iggy already warned me that he would handle the sales part because I normally get too excited and ruin everything. So we went to a few more stores and finally I asked a lady about a white gold hammered style ring and she looked at me like I asked her for porn or something and told me in a scandalized voice that that style was only for men’s rings and women get shiny rings with diamonds.

So naturally I told Iggy I wanted to go back to my friend and get the ring. But since he’s stubborn he insisted we looked around more for price comparison because he wasn’t about to get ripped off. and nobody in the Jewelery District was my friend because they’d all rip us off just as soon as they looked at us. My little romantic.  Anyway, We finally found a similar one and the lady informed us that it was about a thousand more than the original one from my friend. After I gave Iggy a meaningful look we went back to my friend and he smiled and boxed up the ring.

On the car ride back I busied myself with opening the box and putting the ring on and I was staring at it  contently for a good while before I realized Iggy was staring at me.

” You realize we aren’t married and I haven’t technically given you the ring yet?”

“Shut up.”

And that’s my Ben Bridge’s Engagement Ring story.

No statue? This will have to do.

“I’m often asked what makes Bomp different. One answer is that where most labels concentrate on a small roster, I’ve always preferred to give a lot of bands the chance to be heard…I guess I’d most like Bomp to be remembered as a label utterly dedicated to the people who care most about music: the fans and collectors.”

Five years ago we lost one of our greatest soldiers, Greg Shaw. Most pop music writers have read him if not been influenced by him; many saw an opportunity to take the leap from fan to participant because of his magazine and his labels. Shaw began by writing fan letters to magazines and was soon writing reviews for everyone from Rolling Stone to Creem.  Along the way his journey led to managing bands, working at major labels (assembling compilations, of course) and running a record shop, but legions of powerpop fans point to a 1978 issue of Bomp Magazine as the rallying cry that launched a movement.

“Punk had already had its day by 1978, when Bomp Magazine ran a cover story proposing Powerpop: a hybrid style with the power and guts of punk, but drawing on a pop song tradition with wider popular appeal. I had in mind bands like The Who and The Easybeats, (hell, even The Sex Pistols fit my definition!) but much to my chagrin, the term was snapped up by legions of limp, second-rate bands hoping the majors would see them as a safe alternative to punk. I took a lot of heat for starting the whole business…”

But he should also get credit for what did go right. Many great bands rose from the masses of skinny tie wannabes, and some (including Shoes, 20/20, Paul Collins, The Plimsouls, and The Romantics) started at Bomp before landing at major labels. Writers including Lester Bangs, Greil Marcus, Dave Marsh, Mike Saunders and R. Meltzer passed through his masthead. That Bomp didn’t become a haven for great bands like Sire Records is a shame, but Shaw was unwilling to compromise his vision just to play on a bigger stage.

In the ’80s retro-garage was bursting out thanks to bands like The Fuzztones, The Lyres and The Chesterfield Kings; Shaw’s Voxx label attracted a ton of groups. He launched a series of compilations called Pebbles (inspired by Nuggets) featuring some of the rarest original ’60s punk records from his personal collection. He picked up Iggy Pop’s first solo album, Kill City (“when nobody else would touch it”) and issued a series of Stooges outtakes under the title of The Iguana Chronicles. In the ’90s he aligned with Alive Naturalsound Records which brought great bands like Black Keys, Bloody Hollies and Soledad Brothers into the fold, and he continued to discover and nurture new bands that tweaked his antennae until his death from heart failure. He was only 55.

I think the essence of Greg Shaw can be found in this quote:

“I think it comes down to the fact that Bomp is an outgrowth of my love for music. Where many would view it as a marginal business that barely breaks even, I prefer to see it as a hobby that’s profitable enough to allow me to build my life around it.”

Contemplating the impact Greg Shaw had upon the industry, it just makes me sadder when I think about politics and greed making charlatans wealthy and famous, while true visionaries are sometimes just cult heroes. But fame is cheap commodity and wealth dissipates. Legacy is the coin that matters, and Shaw’s legacy continues to inspire. 

The BOMP website

Tributes from other writers

The book:  Saving The World One Record at a Time

The date of October 19th also claimed guitarist Glen Buxton of the original Alice Cooper Band, who died in 1997; he was only 49.