Albums For Your Ever-Changing Quarantine Moods

I hate to bore you with quarantine talk, as we all know it’s a completely over-saturated topic of conversation, BUT we just so happen to be coming in on a month of isolation and as you and I both know, isolation needs company. Whether it's a film, a book, arthouse porn, zoom "house parties", your ugly/cute pet, or what I consider to be the ultimate companion, MUSIC, we all need something to get us through this indefinite period of pre-apocalyptic-homesick-blues. If you're anything like me(and hopefully you're not), you may be experiencing some extreme highs and lows, where one minute you're feeling perfectly fine after a neighborhood jog and the next minute you're say, sobbing over a scene from Paris Texas or crying tears of overwhelming joy during the last scene of Dirty Dancing. Whether you're quietly having a panic attack in your room or dancing like everyone is watching because we all know you're a complete fucking narcissist, we've made a list of albums that will get you through just about anything, no matter which self or mood you're currently channeling.

MELLOW AND INTROSPECTIVE

Julianna Barwick - Will (2016)

Julianna Barwick's warm, ethereal music will make you feel like you're coming off of a ship that just crossed the Atlantic, slicing slowly through a cloud of pale violet fog, and seeing land for the first time. And that land is filled with nymphs, echoes, falsettos, violins, and whatever else it is that means you've waltzed into some sort of Lynchian dream world far, far away from the fucked up dystopia in which you currently exist. Listen to this album as evening turns to night, headphones on, staring up at the sky.

Gavin Bryars - The Sinking of The Titanic (1994)

If you really want to feel sad, or rather just feel everything, listen to this album. I first listened to it while I was high at a friend's apartment in Bushwick, we were all dancing feverishly and then slowly ended up sitting on the wood floor crying and talking about how beautiful life is. British composer Gavin Bryars was inspired by the story of how the band on the Titanic continued to play songs of infinite sorrow as the ship started to sink. The songs have an oceanic, calming quality to them. Listen to it as you're falling asleep. 

Arthur Russel "Instrumentals" - First Thought Best Thought (2002)

I like to listen to this in the morning when I'm writing. Volume 1 feels for the most part hopeful, upbeat, almost childish in the overall feeling but not in the production. It makes you want to do things. Volume 2 gets more serious, with darker, more introspective tones. Tower of Meaning is more on the triumphant, spiritual side, ending with "Sketch For The Face of Helen", which is an unnerving ten minute long concoction of sounds. 

DANCE LIKE NO ONE (OR EVERYONE) IS WATCHING

Blood Orange - Cupid Deluxe (2013)

If you lived in New York City when this was released, you know this album was playing at every single dive bar and dance club in town. Dev Hynes, an absolute genius who has worked with everyone from Solange to Florence, released this sophomore album as Blood Orange just before his apartment burned down, losing everything from hard drives, to lyric sheets, to his beloved dog Cupid. This album is the perfect blend of nostalgia, funk, pop, and sensuality. 

Madonna - Like A Virgin (1984)

I mean duh. This is every girl's bedroom dancing dream...visions of torn up 80s wedding dresses, crimped hair, eyes lined with smoldering black kohl....can't say Madonna didn't get it right. She was dating Jean-Michel Basquiat at the time and they were the King and Queen of the Lower East Side and basically the entire sub-culture of the NYC art world we still desperately grasp at today.

The Faint - Danse Macabre (2001)

This album was ahead of its time. Or behind it's time...in hindsight I can't really tell. All I know is that if you know you know, and if you know you've probably danced to it in front of your mirror or at an underground rave somewhere. Or maybe you were like me and danced to it at an underage music venue called Soma in San Diego after illegally consuming beer at the Mexican Restaurant next door and made fun of all the hardcore kids for being straight and then Bright Eyes came onstage and you started crying. "Glass Danse", "Total Job", and "Posed To Death" are the ones you can really get weird to.

BABY, LET'S GO FOR A DRIVE

Dirty Beaches - Drifters/Love Is The Devil (2013)

Drifters/Love Is The Devil is the kind of album you wanna listen to while robbing a bank or driving in a Cadillac convertible down the sparkling streets of Las Vegas in a perfectly tailored suit, or barrelling down an empty highway after midnight. It was recorded in Montreal and Berlin and the album cover, a photo of a man with shadows and club lights streaking his face, was shot at a gay bar in Kreuzberg. Alex Zhang Hungtai has also collaborated and performed with Elias Ronnenfelt under his solo project Marching Church.

Bat for Lashes - Lost Girls (2019)

Singer/songwriter Natasha Khan wrote Lost Girls with composer/producer Charles Scott shortly after she moved from London to Los Angeles and had sworn off music forever. "I was driving to from Joshua Tree up to the Sequoias, you know just sort of absorbing these pastel sunsets, feet on the dashboard, hands out the window...and I was just imagining this biker gang of witchy girls that come from the desert and what it might feel like if I saw them following me on bikes or creeping in my yard or if I bumped into them at the Hollywood Forever Cemetary," she said on a podcast for Song Exploder. She was working on a script at the time called The Lost Girls and was approached by J.J. Abrams' team to write a song for his new T.V. series. She wrote Kids In The Dark, which they didn't end up using for the show, but inspired her to make an entire album.

Cocteau Twins - Heaven Or Las Vegas (1990)

Sometimes it's a blessing not to understand what the lyrics are in a song. It leaves things open to interpretation and allows you to get wrapped up in the musical elements and sentiment. That being said, I have no idea what the fuck the Cocteau Twins are saying, but I understand it. I feel it. I remember listening to this album as I was driving from Indio to Idyllwild with the band Surfbort after they performed, and it put me into a trance as we swerved around the curves of the mountains and got further and further away from the blazing fire pits of hell(Coachella). Something I would just about kill to be doing right now, but alas, I am here writing this elaborate masterpiece of an essay to help you(and myself) through mental and emotional trauma. 

LIFE IS GOOD

Richard Hawley - Cole's Corner (2005)

This album is an absolute perfect masterpiece and if you have any objections I will never talk to you again. The first song paints a vivid picture of a dizzy, romantic night in the city and is the antidote for loneliness so long as you have an imagination. "Cold city lights glowing / The traffic of life is flowing / Out over the rivers and on into dark / I'm going downtown where there's music / I'm going where voices fill the air / Maybe there's someone waiting for me / With a smile and a flower in her hair." Hawley's most famous song, "The Ocean", is a beautiful, hopeful tune, and "Last Orders" is a heartbreaking instrumental track with piano that seems to echo to eternity.

Nancy Sinatra and Lee Hazelwood - Nancy & Lee (1968)

I personally will be dancing to this all summer long as I waft around in my front yard and wait for the handsome cowboy of my dreams to come sweep me off my feet as we gallop off into the pink apocalyptic skies of the future. The album was arranged by Billy Strange and written by Hazlewood, topping the charts in 1968. The song "Some Velvet Morning" was named "best duet ever" by The Daily Telegraph. This is the quintessential album for summer, in its lightheartedness and innocent simplicity.

Bill Callahan - Sometimes I Wish I Were An Eagle (2009)

I admittedly just discovered Bill Callahan after reading Letters To Emma Bowlcut, a perfectly obscure book of prose he wrote that was recommended to me by a friend. The book is a collection of fictional letters to a woman named Emma, and feels very much like this album to me. Even the album cover and the book cover are reflective of one another, which makes sense because they were released a year apart. The music is visual and soothing, transporting the listener to a calm place with open skies, tender, innocent love, and a gentle breeze blowing through a faceless woman's dirty blonde hair(to be exact). The lyrics are very much rooted in nature, something we could all benefit from at the moment. 

SONGS FOR SELF-PLEASURE (OR SEX WITH YOUR SIGNIFICANT OTHER WHO YOU PROBABLY HATE BY NOW) 

Portishead - Dummy (1994)

Dummy is the perfect album to listen to while you strut down the streets of the Lower East Side, rain in your hair, and duck into an incredibly sketchy speak-easy bar in Chinatown while your boyfriend stays at home and jerks off to bad porn. Beth Gibbon's quivering, sexy vocals create tension against the eclectic drum beats and strings that pound and pull you into a much more bodacious, cocky version of yourself. 

Nina Simone - Wild Is The Wind (1966)

This classic album is one of my favourites from Nina Simone. It's raw, bare, heartbreaking, and empowering. "When I think more than I want to think / I do things I never should do / I drink much more that I ought to drink / Because it brings me back you / Lilac wine is sweet and heady, like my love / Lilac wine, I feel unsteady, like my love" are lyrics from "Lilac Wine" which was later covered by Jeff Buckley. "Wild Is The Wind" was covered by David Bowie on his 1976 album Station To Station. The song is a live recording, as is "Black Is The Color Of My True Love's Hair", which is a rendition of an old Celtic folk song. In the video(also recorded live), Simone is a beautiful sixties queen in a long black dress, gold hoops, and blue eyeshadow. During the transition, the camera pans to musician Emil Latimer, who looks like some cross between a cowboy and a guru plucking the strings of his ivory guitar.

Caetano Veloso - Transa (1972)

Caetano Veloso is a Brazilian musician, composer, and political activist who made over twenty albums and won several grammys for "Best World Music Album" and "Best Score". Transa, recorded in '72 while he was exiled in London, is a wonderfully seductive and flirtatious compilation of seven songs sung in both English and Brazilian. 

WE'RE DOOMED

Section 25 - Always Now (1981)

Lovers of Joy Division, look no further. Section 25 was an integral part of Manchester's burgeoning post-punk scene in the early '80s. Their debut 7", Girls Don't Count, was produced by Ian Curtis and Rob Gretton, followed by the release of Always Now, produced by Martin Hannett. While recording the LP, the band opened for New Order at the infamous Heaven nightclub in London. Always Now is the perfect soundtrack to the apocalypse, namely tracks 10-12. "New Horizon" almost feels like it should be at the forefront of the album, with it's slow intro into the prominent bassline repeated throughout the song. It's followed by "Haunted" and "Charnel Ground", a sinister track with the comforting lyrics: " You left the door open / A springtime morning / The sunshine filled me / Silence is everywhere". 

Scott Walker - The Drift (2006)

If there ever were an album that felt something close to witnessing(or committing) a murder, it would be The Drift. "Clara" a twelve minute long recording of terrifying sounds that range from the pounding of flesh to schizophrenic string arrangements to horns that sound like a scream for help. It's hard to distinguish what the sounds actually are, as Walker would have various things brought into the studio while he was recording to achieve the sonic revelations he heard in his head. Walker's wholesome voice amidst the chaotic, grim music make it feel like a horror film or a Stephen King novel.

Mark E. Smith - The Post Nearly Man (1998)

"The Horror In Clay" opens with Mark E. Smith reciting words from H.P. Lovecraft: "The most merciful thing in the world is man's inability to correlate all of his mind's contents. But the sciences one day, some say it is already upon us, will eventually open up such terrifying vistas of reality that we will either go mad from the revelation or flee into blissful sleep, peace, and safety of another new, dark age." Smith's spoken word and manic poetry explore narcissism, drug abuse, and mental illness, all while making humorous stabs at modern society. In "Typewriter", he speaks over the sound of fingers pounding on the keys of a typewriter, interspersed with punk guitar riffs. The Post Nearly Man is the perfect combination of British humor and dark, opinionated verse.

Remembering Arthur Russel

I found out about Arthur Russel’s music not too long ago when he showed up on my Spotify radio in a trucker hat holding a cello looking very much like my ex who is a Buddhist and disappeared from this planet (or is just avoiding me and leading a happy, healthy life). I was immediately drawn to the music...it was simple yet complex, upbeat yet rooted in sorrow. I looked through more photographs of him, watched his live performances...he was sharp and present musically yet completely somewhere else mentally. He was the kind of artist who didn’t ask for attention but demanded it. The kind whose intellect, even from the farthest corner of a room, could burn a hole through the wall. His list of collaborators was endless--Philip Glass, Allen Ginsberg, David Byrne, Gloria Gaynor--and he’s continued to inspire contemporary musicians like Dev Hynes, Devendra Banhart, and Frank Ocean. Kanye even released a track that sampled Russel’s “Answer Me” (of course he did, the bastard). He’s made thousands of recordings from pop to folk to disco, all with the same uncanny melodies and complex patterns that so many progressive artists are drawn to. 

His earlier works painted pictures of the Iowa countryside...cerulean skies, shades of sienna and ochre smeared through the blur of a passing car window. Love Is Overtaking Me was a very visual album, telling tales of young love, family, and the ultimate need to escape and start a new life someplace unfamiliar. There’s an underlying sense of innocence and maliciousness, exploring the distance we create with our loved ones when we long to better understand ourselves. I couldn’t say it to your face but I won’t be around anymore / I needed a place / So I walked in the door / I couldn’t say it to your face but I won’t be around anymore / It’s my world / It’s my song / Didn’t ask you to sing along.

Arthur left Iowa to go to San Francisco at the tail end of the sixties, where he lived in a Buddhist commune, studied music composition, and met friend and collaborator Allen Ginsberg. Neville Warwick, the leader of the Buddhist commune who Ginsberg admittedly thought was a quack, banished Arthur to a closet for hours on end to practice cello. Once Arthur realized that all he wanted to do was music, he went with Ginsberg back to New York, where they lived in the same building in the East Village on 12th street between 1st and A. Russel became Ginsberg’s music teacher and the two were very close friends until the end of Arthur’s life.

Russel was an outcast. He was obsessive, impulsive, and absolutely nothing came between him and his music. Phillip Glass said Arthur “felt in his bones that he was meant to have a larger audience than he had at that moment.” He was ahead of his time, constantly in another world daydreaming. Once Russel got to New York he quickly became part of the bourgeoning Lower East Side artist scene among the likes of Debbie Harry, Patti Smith, and Richard Hell. He frequented CBGB and Max’s Kansas City until night jutted into morning, and eventually became the music director of The Kitchen on Broome Street. There he booked mostly unknown underground composers and avant-garde performers as well as acts like The Talking Heads and The Modern Lovers. This was how he met David Byrne and bassist Ernie Brooks, who he formed The Flying Hearts with. 

The Flying Hearts made two recordings with Allen Ginsberg, as well as wrote and performed the Instrumentals sessions...a 48-hour long orchestral piece that feels like it was recorded in the Alps in a different century. “Ballad of The Lights'' is a catch and release between Ginsberg’s spoken word and Russels bizzare vocals. The song is about how Russel would spend hours sitting on the Hudson, staring across the river at the flickering lights of New Jersey. Please Mr. Mystery / If I’m sitting oh so still / All alone it’s only me / All those lights have lost their meaning. Arthur’s interest in spirituality shines through in “Pacific High Studio Mantras”, where Ginsberg chants over crescendoing percussion and haunting violins. 

Arthur went on to make disco music under the moniker Dinosaur L, producing club hits like “Go Bang” and “Kiss Me Again”, which sold over two hundred thousand copies. He was heavily into the nightlife scene and would go out and dance awkwardly at clubs like The Gallery while strobes flashed and sequins shimmered. He would spend all day in his LES apartment making music, and lived with his partner Tom Lee, who was incredibly supportive and enthusiastic throughout their entire relationship. 

Arthur, like many New York artists during that time, died of AIDS related complications in ‘92. He released only one solo record during his lifetime, World of Echo, but left behind thousands of recordings, poems, and lyric sheets. Thanks to Tom Lee and Steve Knutson of Audika Records,  seven albums were released after his death, perhaps the reason young artists continue to gain awareness of his grandeur and genius. 

I wanted to be the time between the waves, the foam they left behind;

the ceaseless repetition and the tiny little blow holes in the sand,

I wanted something broken to repair, to be repaired.

I wanted the cords in your wrists for resistance,

and the blue in the veins in your wrists for their shadows.

Words I’d said I wanted you to say, your saying gave me license to believe,

and you, with thighs that widened to the delta of your hips, 

held me as in shallow, salty water barely moving for an hour. 

To me, Arthur will always be the poet in the cowboy hat with the prairie at his back, stumbling towards the city, light years ahead of everyone.

Five 90s Theme Songs That Define Nostalgia

Before the day and age where we were able to choose the time, place, and frequency at which we consumed entertainment, there was something a little more heart-warming and dare I say even exciting about sitting down to watch our most beloved television shows.

That isn’t to say the excitement doesn’t still exist today, but more often than not I find myself laying in bed half naked on Xanax inhaling an entire bag of salt ‘n’ vinegar chips and pistachio ice cream staring vacantly into a tiny laptop screen than I do actually sitting down with a group of friends on a nice cozy couch to watch my favourite shows. There was something more formal and communal about coming together at a specific time each week. Whether it was going to second base beneath your grandmother’s hand-crocheted blanket, or simply sitting quietly while your soon-to-be divorced parents argued over whether or not a blowjob was grounds for impeachment, these shows and their theme songs were ingrained in us for years to come.

Buffy The Vampire Slayer - Nerf Herder

Buffy had all of the seductive elements we still can’t seem to stray from in vampire flicks...temptation, desire, violence, sex, empowerment, English accents, rebellion...the list could go on. Its theme song, composed by Santa Barbara based rock band Nerf Herder, was the perfect opening to the show, which first aired on The WB in ‘97. After an unsuccessful attempt by a big-wig composer, director Joss Whedon was on the prowl for a more low-fi take on things (perhaps one more fitting for late nights gossiping about unrequited love whilst patrolling Sunnyvale’s hottest graveyards). “Coincidentally, they had hired someone in L.A. to write a theme song for the show, and he just thought it was corny and dumb; like it was some ‘professional’ songwriting guy. [Whedon] didn’t like it, so he asked a bunch of small-time bands in the L.A. area to try to come up with ideas”, explained the band’s frontman Parry Grip. The song was actually written before they were summoned to come up with the “30 second idea”, and had an original intention of a science fiction theme. The band was brought to Whedon’s attention by Alyson Hannigan, who played Willow.

Fresh Prince of Bel Air - DJ Jazzy Jeff and The Fresh Prince, Quincy Jones

One time on a family road trip when I was a kid, our car broke down in Bel Air and all I could do was fantasize about running into Will Smith. We knocked on some lady’s door and she invited us in for tea while we called AAA and my brother played with a Gumby toy. I was surprised by how stark the mansion felt compared to the ones I saw on TV, where the Banks family would sing and dance and argue and laugh and squeal and cry. Music for the theme song was written by legend and behemoth Quincy Jones (who was also the executive producer on the show), and the lyrics were written by Will Smith. Smith and DJ Jazzy Jeff aka “Jazz” performed the song and were co-stars in the show. The two were long-time friends and collaborators who won a grammy in ‘89 for best rap performance, and wrote the hit single “Summertime” which topped the charts in ‘91.

That 70s Show - “In The Street” - written by Big Star and performed by Todd Griffin (first season) and Cheap Trick (following seasons)

While I won’t mention anything that’s going on with one the show’s previous cast members, I will say that it’s no surprise Big Star’s “In The Street” was chosen to represent the growing pains and undeniably charming awkwardness of That 70s Show. Listening to songs like “Thirteen” (which was later adapted by Elliott Smith), “September Girls”, and “In The Street”, the warm sonic vibrations of #1 Record painted pictures of slick golden streets at sundown and visions of effervescent 70s grandeur. The song was performed by Todd Griffin in the first season and Cheap Trick for the remaining seasons (because we all know Alex Chilton and Chris Bell were way too cool to fully sell out.)

Freaks ‘n’ Geeks - “Bad Reputation” - Joan Jett & The Blackhearts

The opening scene to Freaks and Geeks sees its cast (which includes Seth Rogan, Jason Segal, and James Franco at the birth of their careers) getting their photo taken in front of a cloth backdrop to Joan Jett & The Blackheart’s “Bad Reputation”. The soundtrack also included songs from Janis Joplin, Ted Nugent, Curtis Mayfield, and The Allman Brothers. Freaks and Geeks encouraged us to embrace the rebellious intellectual within, and is the perfect concoction of 

90s grunge and sullen I-Don’t-Give-A Fuck comradery. 

Friends - “I’ll Be There For You” - The Rembrants

Although many of you will hate me (or not care) for choosing Friends instead of Seinfeld, one can’t deny that the annoyingly cheerful candor of “I’ll Be There For You” elicits some sense of comfort and certainly sticks in your head for at least 10 minutes after you hear it. The lyrics are relatable: “So no one told you life was gonna be this way / Your job's a joke, you're broke / Your love life's D.O.A / It's like you're always stuck in second gear / When it hasn't been your day, your week, your month / Or even your year but / I’ll be there for you.” The Rembrants also made a wonderfully cheesy video with the Friends cast members dancing around in studio while they played live. The song was named as “One of the 50 Worst Songs Ever” by Blender Magazine.

THE MANY THOUGHT CRIMES OF REPO MAN

And why 1984’s “Real Americans” hated the film. 

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According to director Alex Cox, the screenplay rights to Repo Man revert back to him this year. What might he do with them, make Repo Man, the Musical? The Repo Chronicles for Amazon? You’d think the movie’s spite would be its best insurance against such horseshit, but I know I’m not putting money on that.

Here’s a scene-by-scene breakdown of how Repo Man violated Ronald Reagan’s America, starting with the killing of a cop by a neutron-emitting motorist in the film’s opening 90 seconds.

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“Otto, are you paying attention to me?” “Otto” (Emilio Estevez) is instantly sympathetic for enduring a mindless grocery store job. Then he physically assaults a coworker before having a gun pulled on him by a neighborhood cat killer in a security uniform. Having ignited his famous family’s tiger blood like gasoline, Otto holds both middle fingers up to the security guard’s gun barrel.

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Downing beers on the railroad tracks. When Repo Man was filmed in 1983, the only way one could shout the chorus from Black Flag’s Six Pack without embarrassment was alone. If ever that band had a guilty pleasure, Six Pack was it. Alone, Otto was also highly recruitable, which sustained distrustful kids’ attraction to his character for decades.

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Instant punk scene - just add spray paint. Aging punks enjoy correcting those who mistake “slamming” for “moshing,” but the reality is that neither was enjoyed in alleys or on loading docks, especially without a source of live music. Except in Repo Man’s peer intro sequence. (Also, freeze frame: How are there only uncrushed beer cans under the stomping boots of these nihilistic youth?)

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Speaking of recruitability. Never take a job from a geezer in a creeping car unless he proposes to underpay you in drugs (or if it’s Harry Dean Stanton). If this film captured anything right about punk rock kids – in LA, Detroit, DC, or wherever – it was that dares, negotiations, and absolutions often happened while walking alongside moving vehicles.

The themes of Repo Man. Distracted, lazy citizens bullied by a fearful and bumbling government makes, “It happens sometimes; people just explode,” one of the most pertinent movie lines ever. Less so, of course, for its abstract silliness than for predicting the authoritarian gibberish we shrug at and chug down today. Payback around every corner is another of Repo Man’s enduring themes, but you have to catch on to that one. (Check: count how many times characters get their comeuppance, immediately or otherwise.)

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The Repo code. Behavioral ethics recited with severity and conviction during the consumption of what looks like enough speed to kill an elephant = GONZO. Asserting crucial rules, while simultaneously doing everything in your power to hamper your own ability to follow them, is as American as apple pie “the new normal.”

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The other Repo Men. The Rodriguez Brothers enter by way of the car-to-car aggression that defines LA traffic. But rather than on one of its freeways, this vehicular aggression takes place on the banks of the LA River. Turns out the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers oversees the famous flood control channel, but doesn’t police it (or issue film permits). “That’s an LAPD thing,” say types familiar with the 6th Street Bridge film location. But the cops don’t seem to want jurisdiction over “The River”: “It’s an Army thing.” Accurate or not, drawing the attention of any authority while down there isn’t smart, which makes it fun imagining Cox assuring his drivers and crew, “Everything’s cool, but hurry up! Get the camera!” If the LA River scene lacks a coherent pay-off, it could be a result of Cox & Co. runnin’ and gunnin’ while the gettin’ was good.

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Archie, Duke, and Debbi: Armed and Overacting. Death wish 20-somethings waving guns around on liquor store sprees will always be inferior to Archie, the tallest of this trio, because concealing his face with an open-top paper bag showed just how much more he cared about protecting his mohawk than his identity. (Also: preceding a long and vivid career, Miguel Sandoval could’ve carried this group’s scenes solo.) 

The wealth gap, called out circa 1984. “Fucking millionaires,” yells Harry Dean Stanton’s “Bud.” “They never pay their bills!” This rendering of a Caucasian man lording over a couple of Latino kids is a scene in which Bud sends Otto to repossess a tubby bastard’s Cadillac. The racial/socio-economic taunt may have been missed in Minnesota, Iowa, Vermont, Maine, New Hampshire, West Virginia, Idaho, Wyoming, or North Dakota, with their 90.9% and higher white populations, but it sure made sense to those of us who had to stomach entitled schmucks in luxury cars.

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Payback around every corner. More of the film’s actual sense of right and wrong directly follows when Otto gets pepper sprayed after tossing a dead rat into a convertible, expecting its female driver to leap from the car (for which she’s failed to pay). The woman calmly turns the table on his presumptuousness by aiming for his eyes. (Bonus lesson: If you fail, you walk home.)

Name one submissive female Repo Man character. Girl-interest Leila’s introduction is also an avowal of self-empowerment. Following their own curb-to-creeping-car exchange, Otto’s belligerent response to being turned down for a date triggers Leila to challenge his pouty man-hurt. She allows him access only after she redefines the terms.

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Alex Cox may have been the first to take big screen swipes at Scientology. When “Lite,” Sy Richardson’s poker-faced Scientologist-in-the-making, shows Otto a few tricks of the trade, more of the Repo Code is revealed. “Put your seatbelt on,” he scolds as they seize a Camaro. “I don’t ride with anyone unless they’re wearing their seatbelt.” Lite manages to school Otto while swapping out an ignition lock cylinder as a maniacal, earsplitting car alarm protests the repo-in-progress. If codes come before comfort, Lite is the true pro of the bunch.

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Philosopher Miller’s “Lattice of Coincidence”. Miller’s lecture to Otto on “cosmic unconsciousness” is the best discussion of spirituality over a barrel of burning toxic trash ever filmed. (Bonus points: ending the exchange with, “the more you drive, the less intelligent you are.” And this is the movie’s presumed crackpot.)

The enemy of my enemy is my friend. It’s gratifying that, despite the Rodriguez Brothers being Bud’s primary competition, they still alert him to the Chevy Malibu for which there’s a $20,000 reward. It’s this begrudging unity that helps make the world Cox created feel more authentic. What makes it a thought crime is knowing how true it is that law-enforcement would lump all of these idiots together.

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Why were men given larger brains than dogs? So they wouldn't hump women's legs at cocktail parties. For many early fans, watching Leila twice slap Otto’s face for his uninvited sexual advances was confirmation that the punk scene had indeed been invaded by asshole jocks. Some even consider Emilo Estevez’s truest contribution to be his parodying of the goons that ruined the LA scene created by first generation punks. The belief that sexual aggressors deserved to get slapped (and worse) became one of the lines drawn between the punk ethos of swashbuckling innovation and red plastic party cups, aka “the rapist’s wine glass.”

“No commies and no Christians in my car!” Hey-now, you can’t have Christians without cross-eyed piety and you can’t have a 1980s narrative without accusations of Communist Party membership (typically yelled from a creeping car.)

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Teachable thought crime moment. When walking nuclear accident, J. Frank Parnell, driver of the radioactive ’64 Malibu, conducts his gas station pit stop like the dignified Man of Science he is, audiences learned a new form of condescension: eccentricity stifles the overly helpful. (Handy Tip: Whether under the influence of marijuana, alcohol, or plutonium, always exit the vehicle to vomit with the poise of someone attending a State Dinner.)

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“Don’t ever say ‘fuck you’ to me because you haven’t earned the right yet.” Ah-yes, the film’s real villain, “Plettschner,” the rent-a-cop. It seemed back then that everybody had a father, boss, or uncle who spat versions of the same limp threat – those incurious, inarticulate middle-agers of the 1980s angered by kids with green hair and combat boots. It was the Plettschners who yelled, “Punk faggots!” and “Faggot Commies!” from behind their steering wheels. Brooklyn actor Richard Foronjy so nailed that decade’s white male powerlessness that his sole big scene brings home Repo Man’s cult standing.

Next to a burger stand, still operating today on LA’s 8th & Maple, a ’64 Malibu is stolen from the Rodriguez Brothers by Archie, Duke, and Debbi. The brothers’ win some, lose some sportsmanship is charming. Restraint and grace despite disappointment? In 2019, if that’s not a thought crime, what is?

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Downtown Los Angeles skyline at dusk, wide shot. In a view perhaps from Elysian Park, one can see how much Downtown LA has changed. If you go look, even online, a good number of Repo Man locations remain. A few are unchanged by developer money, but most take a minute to locate.

Extraordinary Rendition. The “Feds” grab Leila off the street, and during her interrogation demand to know whether the aliens she claims are hiding in the trunk of the ’64 Malibu are “illegal aliens.” The presumption was played for laughs, but 35 years later —even above hostile invaders from outer-space— Mexicans are still the go-to threat. WTF?

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“John Wayne was a fag.” This line was rocket fuel for audiences in 1984. Never mind its homophobic nature, it was absolute blasphemy to America’s Plettschners. Miller’s declaration (and the resulting fracas among the team, aka the Helping Hands Acceptance Company) questioned the era’s masculinity, but did so while piling on fearful coping skills and personal dysfunction. If the characters in this scene were all waving guns, around you’d be watching Reservoir Dogs.

The kaleidoscopic whimsies of fun-loving berserkers. When Archie, Duke, and Debbi catch J. Frank Parnell reuniting with what he knows to be his sought-after ’64 Malibu, it’s the overacting that steals the scene. Archie opens the cop-killing car trunk on Parnell’s dare and disappears in a ZAP. This is when another delicious thought crime fills our ears — “Let’s go get sushi and not pay.”

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Road rage returns –– followed by a baseball-bat-swinging Bud demanding unspecified justice from the Rodriguez Brothers. Bud asks, “Whose side are you on?” This occurs just before the plot somehow jumps forward in time enough to accommodate the serving of the brothers’ lawsuit at Repo HQ. And with that –poof! – Bud is fired. Uh, do the events of this story take place over a month? I ask because for the last three decades it’s felt as if they unfold over four days.

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“Ra-di-a-tion. Yes, indeed. You hear the most outrageous lies about it. Half-baked goggle-box do-gooders telling everybody it’s bad for you. Pernicious nonsense. Everybody could stand a hundred chest X-rays a year.” So mumbles the electively-lobotomized Parnell, again car-creeping his way throughout downtown LA. This movie has more bizarro self-righteousness than the aforementioned Reagan presidency, but it works because Repo Man is conservative kryptonite. 

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Liquor store shootout:  A Peckinpah-esque gun fight goes down wherein the fates of its cashier, Duke, Debbi, and even the cat killer in the security guard uniform all face the consequences of who-knows-what. Duke’s last words? “I blame society.” Scenesters in the audience were in on the joke because moms and dads and the general public had often taken punk lyrics too seriously. They were keenly aware of being portrayed as sullen fault-finders. Otto quickly calls bullshit on Duke’s commentary-as-martyrdom, making it the twinkle in this movie’s eye.

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Gollum from The Lord of the Rings gets his. Otto’s attempt to rescue co-worker Marlene from FBI-style bad guys is thwarted by stupid Plettschner. Pulling at his arm, the rent-a-cop pleads for Otto to join him in macho weakness forever. Plettschner’s painful takedown is welcome, despite Otto’s capture.

Marlene & the Rodriguez Brothers to the rescue. The brothers rescue Otto from the torture-happy clutches of the government using Uzi machine guns (where was this firepower when they were gettin’ swung at bat?). They escape like they’re burning rubber in front of the prom. The hilarious action sequences are as clumsily edited as any of the day’s public access talk shows, which makes that earlier LA River chase scene look like a Michael Bay sequel.

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“Out of order. Take the stairs,” one of the brothers says to a woman on crutches racing to make the elevator. No problem with cruelty for laughs here (thought crime!), but like the preceding gag in which the brothers navigate the double doors of a hospital entrance no more efficiently than the Three Stooges, the laugh might’ve been bigger on set than in the audience. Such riffs take us out of the story, but they also increase our feeling of being “in on it” with the filmmakers.

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Open fire on the Feds. The Rodriguez Brothers blast away at anything in a suit (an Exhibit A thought crime if there ever was one). And still being driven gallingly slowly, the atomic Malibu is now glowing. How it manages to beat everybody back to the Repo yard for the big finish is a mystery answerable only by whatever is in the trunk.

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Saving the biggest thought crime for last. No, not the ice cubes falling from the sky, but the phosphorescent Malibu zapping that Bible with bolts of anti-Jesus lightning. Underneath the whirring blades of a helicopter, as government agents become pillars of fire or just mentally deteriorate into sappy confessions, Miller, played immortally by Tracy Walter, innocently approaches the Malibu, and it winds up becoming his limo to the cosmic unconscious he’d spoken of earlier. Naturally, the teacher invites the student (Otto) to escape with him. Finally picking up speed, the old clunker is now a UFO – and about 72 other things.

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The truth is, Repo Man is more naughty than subversive. But its tongue-in-cheek denunciations of mass consumer culture, snide mockery of law enforcement and government, and it’s-there-if-you-look ethics were smarter than they were given credit for at the time of its theatrical release.

Blame society.