Groupthink doesn't live here, critical thought does.
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From the elegant look of this film's poster, I'd say this has the potential to be one damned fine documentary about my favorite subject, namely the NYC Punk Movement that did society a fuck of a lot more good than any other movement to come along since.
Iggy is still God.
Elvis (Costello) is still the King.
Debbie (Harry) is still the Queen.
Peaches is still the Goddess.
The Stones are still The Stones.
When I lived in San Diego in the early '80s I played drums for The Rockin' Dogs. Our bass player Jane Bunting was Mojo Nixon's roommate; he taught Jane how to play bass. Hell, Mojo even opened for The Rockin' Dogs once.
I'll never forget showing up for an afternoon screening for a movie at the Ken Cinema. Lo and behold Mojo Nixon came out with a five gallon plastic water jug. Mojo jumped around banging on the jug as a drum and singing his head off as our pre-movie live entertainment. The moment was pure rock 'n' roll magic, a total surprise.
I look forward to seeing this documentary and finding out more about this amazing musician.
Dig.