Every year, April brings Record Store Day. And Record Store Day brings unforeseen treasures. Such as: Flaming Lips' head freak Wayne Coyne touring the West Coast to meet fans and sign copies of an obscure Flaming Lips reissue that is not just an obscure Flaming Lips reissue. Yes, this is really happening. You might want to be at Aquarius Records this Thursday.
Tonight, together with local music nonprofit the Root and the Chapel, we're hosting a free panel discussion about San Francisco's music scene. This follows a big story we ran a few weeks ago exploring how the city's music culture is changing in the midst of the current economic boom.
Obviously, this is a hot topic in the city today. Depending on what circles you run in, you may hear a lot of talk about how the "techies are killing music" or how the music scene is all going to L.A., Oakland, New York, or Portland. And it is true that artists are leaving. But merely complaining about that will not be the focus of our panel discussion tonight. No: tonight, after a brief exploration of where things stand -- and how different that may be from how they once were -- we want to talk about how to improve things.
Amid so much talk about what's happening to music in booming San Francisco -- including an SF Weekly-presented panel on that very issue tonight -- we've just heard about another band's exodus from the city scene.
Yes, folks, Train is going to Oakland.
The group that once implored "Save Me, San Francisco" in an album and hit song today announced plans for a new release entitled Save Me, Oakland. Apparently, even dominating adult contemporary and pop radio with beige singles like "Drops of Jupiter" and "Hey, Soul Sister" doesn't pay enough to cover San Francisco rent anymore.
[Editor's note: Before the Cult comes to California for three shows -- two at Coachella, and one in S.F. at the Regency Ballroom this Thursday, April 3 -- frontman Ian Astbury offered to write us a few thoughts about his love for San Francisco and the time he's spent here. We certainly weren't going to turn him down.]
By IAN ASTBURY
"Hate Astbury" was the headline in the U.K. music media back in the day. I was chastened for spouting off an earnest youthful philosophy -- it was not cool to recite my interpretation of the Left Coast visionaries, musicians, poets, and mystics who where bleeding into my skull and opening my heart and mind. San Francisco was ground zero for me in many ways, my Varanasi my gateway to the East. India, Tibet, and Nepal where already in my DNA, and the opportunity to make the pilgrimage to the holy ground of City Lights bookstore when The Cult reopened Bill Graham's Fillmore West in December 1985 was a transcendent moment. The Cult had traveled to Japan earlier in '85, and that was the consummation of my love affair with the East. But I was already absorbing the wisdom of Allen Ginsberg, Joseph Campbell, Alan Watts, Jack Keroauc, Michael McClure, et. al, and City Lights was a place they where all connected with, a place I romanticized and still do.
