Here's something you might be interested in.
Ask a Hipster — Advice you didn't know you needed
Big Screen — Movie commentary
Blurt — Music's inside track
Booze News — San Diego spirits
Classical Music — Immortal beauty
Classifieds — Free and easy
Cover Stories — Front-page features
Drinks All Around — Bartenders' drink recipes
Excerpts — Literary and spiritual excerpts
Feast! — Food & drink reviews
Feature Stories — Local news & stories
Fishing Report — What’s getting hooked from ship and shore
From the Archives — Spotlight on the past
Golden Dreams — Talk of the town
The Gonzo Report — Making the musical scene, or at least reporting from it
Letters — Our inbox
Movies@Home — Local movie buffs share favorites
Movie Reviews — Our critics' picks and pans
Musician Interviews — Up close with local artists
Neighborhood News from Stringers — Hyperlocal news
News Ticker — News & politics
Obermeyer — San Diego politics illustrated
Outdoors — Weekly changes in flora and fauna
Overheard in San Diego — Eavesdropping illustrated
Poetry — The old and the new
Reader Travel — Travel section built by travelers
Reading — The hunt for intellectuals
Roam-O-Rama — SoCal's best hiking/biking trails
San Diego Beer — Inside San Diego suds
SD on the QT — Almost factual news
Sheep and Goats — Places of worship
Special Issues — The best of
Street Style — San Diego streets have style
Surf Diego — Real stories from those braving the waves
Theater — On stage in San Diego this week
Tin Fork — Silver spoon alternative
Under the Radar — Matt Potter's undercover work
Unforgettable — Long-ago San Diego
Unreal Estate — San Diego's priciest pads
Your Week — Daily event picks
The Mercury Albums Anthology
So maybe manager Kim Fowley did want to sheath them in transparent togs and call the whole thing statutory rape. That's one of many myths you won't find addressed in Bud Scoppa's liner notes, settling as said notes do for just-the-facts about the ma'ams. Maybe it's in the Runaways movie, which I haven't seen yet, though I'm assuming most of you have.
This anthology gives you all original Runaways, their four albums over two sweaty years 1976-’77. "Waitin' for the Night," the last Mercury album and the only one without original lead singer Cherie Currie, sticks stickiest to my own ears. With her trashy lingerie and two-ticks-from-heroin-chic cheekbones, Currie made a fascinating centerpiece; but Joan Jett had (and has) a rasp, a shout, a screech, and a yowl, all for the ages. Riffs come swinging out of their corners, feinting with the left channel before rounding with the right, and for once les belle dames don't sound deported to a wind tunnel.
Amidst all the confounded talk about the Runaways' legacy, let me offer a simple sentence. Years ago I confessed to a friend my anxiety over a long, maybe dangerous trip his sister insisted on taking. "She can take care of herself," replied my friend. Self-reliance. Heading out to maybe lust, flirt, and maybe get high, and maybe push the limit of whatever limits lie around. But taking care of one's own business, naturally. The Runaways took this from Suzie Quatro, who took it from Wanda Jackson, who took it from Memphis Minnie, who took it from Sojourner Truth -- who took it probably from Lilith or the equivalent. But somebody had to translate this into blue jeans and leather jackets and the Sunset Strip. The young women on these two discs did not shy from their date with destiny.
- Album: The Mercury Albums Anthology (2010)
- Artist: the Runaways
- Label: Hip-O Select/Mercury
- Songs: 41 of ’em
Here's something you might be interested in.
The Mercury Albums Anthology
The Mercury Albums Anthology
So maybe manager Kim Fowley did want to sheath them in transparent togs and call the whole thing statutory rape. That's one of many myths you won't find addressed in Bud Scoppa's liner notes, settling as said notes do for just-the-facts about the ma'ams. Maybe it's in the Runaways movie, which I haven't seen yet, though I'm assuming most of you have.
This anthology gives you all original Runaways, their four albums over two sweaty years 1976-’77. "Waitin' for the Night," the last Mercury album and the only one without original lead singer Cherie Currie, sticks stickiest to my own ears. With her trashy lingerie and two-ticks-from-heroin-chic cheekbones, Currie made a fascinating centerpiece; but Joan Jett had (and has) a rasp, a shout, a screech, and a yowl, all for the ages. Riffs come swinging out of their corners, feinting with the left channel before rounding with the right, and for once les belle dames don't sound deported to a wind tunnel.
Amidst all the confounded talk about the Runaways' legacy, let me offer a simple sentence. Years ago I confessed to a friend my anxiety over a long, maybe dangerous trip his sister insisted on taking. "She can take care of herself," replied my friend. Self-reliance. Heading out to maybe lust, flirt, and maybe get high, and maybe push the limit of whatever limits lie around. But taking care of one's own business, naturally. The Runaways took this from Suzie Quatro, who took it from Wanda Jackson, who took it from Memphis Minnie, who took it from Sojourner Truth -- who took it probably from Lilith or the equivalent. But somebody had to translate this into blue jeans and leather jackets and the Sunset Strip. The young women on these two discs did not shy from their date with destiny.
- Album: The Mercury Albums Anthology (2010)
- Artist: the Runaways
- Label: Hip-O Select/Mercury
- Songs: 41 of ’em