Pioneer P-D70 – After the Model 1516 1980 prototype and its 4-channel surround-sound ability (backed by Philips until April 1981 but nixed by everybody else)…
After the original P-D1 in 1982, Pioneer went fully on its own with the P-D70… and sold many of them.
But upgraded it later into the P-D90 : black-faced, with an IR remote (CU-D90) and still retaining the mysterious “subcode out” connector. The latter was a Stereo Sound “Best Product” in the summer of 1984.
Among the originalities of both models : a binary digit / peak level switchable display
Martini Ranch was a new wave band featuring Andrew Todd Rosenthal and Bill Paxton. They released two EP’s and one album on Sire Records between 1986 and 1988.
How Can the Labouring Man Find Time for Self-Culture? was produced and engineered by Devo guitarist Bob Casale and also featured drummer Alan Myers and vocalist Mark Mothersbaugh on keyboards.
End of an Ear Records in Austin has a new location at 4304 Clawson Road, just off Ben White between Radio and Casino South Side. Same stellar selection of records, tapes, CDs, DVDs, drums, gear, accessories, etc. – with expanded dedicated stereo room and great parking. The Holidays are now! Stop in today! ~L
Everybody knows that the dice are loaded Everybody rolls with their fingers crossed Everybody knows that the war is over Everybody knows the good guys lost Everybody knows the fight was fixed The poor stay poor, the rich get rich That’s how it goes Everybody knows
Everybody knows that the boat is leaking Everybody knows that the captain lied Everybody got this broken feeling Like their father or their dog just died Everybody talking to their pockets Everybody wants a box of chocolates And a long stem rose Everybody knows
Everybody knows that you love me baby Everybody knows that you really do Everybody knows that you’ve been faithful Give or take a night or two Everybody knows you’ve been discreet But there were so many people you just had to meet Without your clothes And everybody knows
And everybody knows that it’s now or never Everybody knows that it’s me or you And everybody knows that you live forever When you’ve done a line or two Everybody knows the deal is rotten Old Black Joe’s still pickin’ cotton For your ribbons and bows And everybody knows
And everybody knows that the Plague is coming Everybody knows that it’s moving fast Everybody knows that the naked man and woman Are just a shining artifact of the past Everybody knows the scene is dead But there’s gonna be a meter on your bed That will disclose What everybody knows
And everybody knows that you’re in trouble Everybody knows what you’ve been through From the bloody cross on top of Calvary To the beach of Malibu Everybody knows it’s coming apart Take one last look at this Sacred Heart Before it blows And everybody knows
Everybody knows, everybody knows That’s how it goes Everybody knows
There was an unfortunate fundamentalist bent to our household when I was coming up – typical 80’s occult paranoia stuff. The folks meant well, but it could be challenging in pursuits in pop cultural literacy for sure. I remember getting blasted by my dad once for reading the Bible while listening to Purple Rain on headphones. “They cancel each other out!” he insisted. He was strident. Theatrics and carnality were the Devil’s realm, after all. He was the same age I am now. Dad has since become more broad-minded, as has our collective conscience, thankfully – and it’s funny and quaint looking back. It’s sad, too. Not because Prince is gone, rather because if there was anything that could have made young me more sure of a benevolent God in the Universe, it would have been the preachers and teachers affirming the music of Prince and others as all part of One glorious Creation, rather than somehow separate and outside. It would have been one Sunday school True Believer with all the finger-wagging certitude challenging me to listen to the guitar break in “Let’s Go Crazy” or the opening run of “When Doves Cry” and declare there’s not a fucking God in Heaven. Sold. All would have been aligned. Instead with the false divisions. The kinds it takes a lifetime to reconcile.
Ƭ̵̬̊
We do the best we can and I forgive them. Rest In Peace, Prince. Your music is a celebration, a lament, a prayer, a thing of Goodness and Beauty. Maybe it isn’t so much that artists like Prince cancel out our piousness, but rather balance it. Thank God for that.
