The Cotati Sound Machine is back! Well, for one show, at least.
As announced today, the very great Rum Diary are playing this year’s C.A.M.P. Festival in Guerneville, which is this weird-ass type of hippie-indie-spiritual-DIY-new-age-yoga-craft-rock campout amid the redwoods lining the Russian River, outdoors under the stars. In other words, the absolute perfect place for the Rum Diary, who broke up in 2007, to reunite.
What songs do you want to hear? Why not go to this handy survey they’ve created and vote? (I’m currently Googling “Survey Monkey hack” and voting for “Greasers Win” 1,000 times.)
Here’s the funny thing: “Reunion” is a bit of a misnomer, because the lineup features the same exact members of Shuteye Unison—the band that’s still playing every month. Plans were initially made for original Rum Diary drummer Joe Ryckebosch to make it down from Portland, but now it looks like that won’t happen. But Shuteye’s Jake Krohn played briefly in the Rum Diary after Joe left, and “Shuteye Unison to me is basically the same band with a different drummer,” says Daniel McKenzie. “People just want to hear the old songs, you know?”
McKenzie also notes that at C.A.M.P., “the ‘vibe’ is pretty out there at times.” When C.A.M.P. originated last year, we at the Bohemian had no idea how it was going to turn out. A bunch of people from Oakland getting high on the old J’s Amusements site? A mix of bands from Sonoma County, Oakland and Portland? A harmonic convergence to the great savior music?
Alas, watch the video below to get an idea. Tickets are on sale now.
My friend Gaye LeBaron, in customarily evocative fashion, writes in today’s PD about vacation memories on the Russian River. It’s a great read, especially for locals who’ve spent July and August cruising for thrills beneath the shade of redwoods in West County. That’s something I wished I had growing up, those carefree summertime Russian River memories, and each time I stroll Johnson’s Beach or visit Rio Nido, I figure I was born a few decades too late for even the waning days of what the Monte Rio sign famously, and sadly, still declares the “Vacation Wonderland.”
As it were, my family took vacations camping in Humboldt County—incidentally, where LeBaron grew up—or when we could convince family friends to loan us their cabin, Lake Tahoe. The towering trees, the miniature golf, the outdoor calm and young summertime romance described by 1950s Russian River resort-goers in LeBaron’s column? That was King’s Beach for me, and not just because my folks liked Lake Tahoe. It was kinda also because by the time I was growing up in the 1980s, the Russian River was a really seedy place to bring your kids.
This week’s column is on the reemergence of the River Theatre in Guerneville, a venue I’d last visited for a punk show in 1991, when I was 15. The bands were Insanity Puppets, Bulimia Banquet and, headlining, D.I., who were on meth and refused to play their hit “Richard Hung Himself” until a girl in the audience showed them her vagina. It was fucked up. Punk at its best was always a little bit scary, but this was just depressing. (My parents didn’t know where I was, luckily.)
Still, I’ve always loved the Russian River, and Guerneville, and West County in general. After walking through the front doors for the first time in 19 years and interviewing new River Theatre owner Jerry Knight—who plans to host live music, plays and film—I swung by the Guerneville library and went through their incredible news archive, which confirmed that the River has long been almost a different state unto itself, if not a different country.
(I also spoke with Guerneville historian John Schubert, who set me straight about the exact location of the River Club, a strip joint owned by the Markharian brothers. It wasn’t in the River Theatre building as is commonly assumed; rather, it was just one door East of the River Theatre, as seen in this 1986 photo.)
On my way back to Santa Rosa, I made a right turn to one of my favorite places. Odd Fellows Park, a collection of riverfront houses and activity buildings virtually unchanged since its 1940s heyday, reminds me almost exactly of the resort in Dirty Dancing—there’s an outdoor theater constructed of redwood, shuffleboard courts, volleyball nets, a bingo hall, a private beach. It’s exactly the kind of idyllic summertime spot LeBaron’s column describes, and the last remaining vestige of the vacation wonderland of old. It’s no wonder that you need to have a gate code to get in.
You’ll notice Top 5 Movies & Music in Guerneville for their large “Adult DVDs $5.00″ banner outside, but do take note of their smaller sign also announcing used cassettes, CDs and LPs.
Stopped by there on the way back from an interview (Dear Interview Gods, can we schedule for the oceanside full-time from now on?) and flipped, flipped, flipped my way through piles of LPs. Heavy on weird disco 12″s and private-press Christian records. I know, I know. You’re laughing now, but I’m serious as a newscaster in Haiti when I say that’s what the cratediggers are after these days.
Cratediggers—that subspecies of record collector, the producer usually out for DJ breaks—have a knack for presaging trends in music. Naturally, their current fancies are what starts showing up at the clubs. What shows up at clubs makes its way into the mainstream fairly fluidly. Three years ago the cratediggers honed in on obscure, early 1970s Manhattan disco—hello, Lady Gaga.
The Christian thing is harder to understand unless you know the collector’s mind, which says, “I will reappropriate this historically cast-aside sect of garbage art into something dope by immersion, education, curation and enthusiasm.” In other words, creating a fetish out of crapola.
But back on topic: If you’re in Guerneville and itching to puzzle over unusual and cheaply priced disco LPs—I took a $2 chance on a record by Voyage, and found this gem—Top 5 is your place. I guess some people call it “Tops” because the sign is hand-painted and the 5 looks like an “S.” Ah, lovable Guerneville.