Archive for the Cop Shoot Cop Category

what’s going on

Posted in Cop Shoot Cop, jim coleman with tags , , , on September 17, 2014 by jimcolemanmusic

So it has been quite a while since I have posted anything on here. I’ve just had other priorities: changing the cat litter, working, doing some remixes, working on my new album, kayaking, meditating, getting pissed off at our government, religion and large behemoth corporations.

My album is going great, sounding really good. Exciting. I had planned on finishing it by end of summer, but it’s gotten delayed. If you want to have a listen to a rough:

In the meantime, I have been producing a record by Eleanor Bostwick, also very exciting. Here’s a sample of her stuff:

And I’ve been printing some bumper stickers just to piss off the religious right:

PLEASE CURB YOUR GOD

IT’S NOT A CHILD IT’S A CHOICE

PROUD PARENT OF A SATANIC MIDDLE SCHOOL HONOR STUDENT

If you are interested in any of these, let me know, and I’ll get them to you.

In other news, apparently Cop Shoot Cop is scheduled to play in the nation’s capital (that would be Washington DC) on October 23rd. Thanks to Chris X for flagging it for me. Guess we better start rehearsing. Kidding, I don’t think any of us know about this, plus I’ll be working in Las Vegas at that time.

http://www.ticketmaster.com/Cop-Shoot-Cop-tickets/artist/740596?tm_link=tm_edp_multiact_act2-name

pICTURES fROM mY pAST

Posted in Cop Shoot Cop, personal histories, photos, Phylr with tags , , , , on April 4, 2013 by jimcolemanmusic

I was just going through a bunch of scans I did a while back and have run in to a number of various pictures which conjure memories:

philmore hallThis is Philmore Hall. He was my first french horn teacher, when I was just a wee lad. In my later years of grade school, and through Junior High School, I played in his jazz band. We would tour around various schools and also play  assorted events around the area. Even made it on TV. He was an early teacher of Dizzy Gillespie, until Dizzy started teaching the teacher. But every time Dizzy came through town (DC), we would go out to see him, and hang out a bit with him after the show. Philmore drove an old Chrysler Newport I think, or it might have been a Dodge Polara.

jim horn

And this here is me playing horn around that time. I still play a bit, but it’s rough. I use it in my recordings, but usually need to massage it a bit in Logic. That’s what happens when you don’t practice every day.

sculpture contact

This here is a contact sheet of several photos of the first sculpture I ever made. Well, maybe not the first. I remember making clay figures when I was in first grade. But this was the first “sculpture” I did, with focus and intention. It was actually a collaboration with someone whose name I forget.

locker in the earth

And these drawings were studies for the first performance I ever did. In the drawings, a full length locker is buried in the ground, with the front door facing up. I was going to lie in the locker. In the end, the performance ended up a bit different. It took place in a lounge that was actually in the building that we see in the background of the drawing. I had 2 lockers, lying down on the floor, evenly spaced in the center of the room. There was a table with linen and a chair by the window. The performance went from 9 Am to 5 PM. In one locker was a nude disembodied female mannequin. I lay in the other, in a three piece suit. at noon, I got out of the locker, went and sat at the window. A waitress came and served me a double martini. At one, I went back in the locker until 5 PM.

People got really pissed off. I don’t know why. They were trying to goad me in to responding to them, which I wouldn’t do. They opened the locker, yelled at me, kicked the locker by my head. And some of these people were friends. From 9 AM it took me a while to relax in to it. By around 10:30 I started getting in to the zen of it, it felt good. After the martini, it felt even better. Until about 3 PM, when I really needed to piss. This discomfort increased exponentially until 5 PM.

cop on cop

I have several photos from the days of Cop Shoot Cop. I’ll just put them up here with minimal comments.

This first one I always liked: lounging on the totaled cop car.

CSC coney

And out in Coney. This old parachute jump has always been one of my favorite pieces of NYC architecture. I wish I had been around at the turn of the previous century, so I could have seen the old Elephant hotel out there.

Natz_Jim_Phil_belgium

Natz, Phil and I soak up the local culture in Belgium.

Tour bus

This was our beloved low budget tour bus. Always loved this thing, despite it blowing out over 3 transmissions. I would live in it from time to time in Brooklyn. It had a pretty comfortable bed in the back.

csc option 1

From Option Magazine. I was in kind of rough shape at this time. I couldn’t make it to the photo shoot with the rest of the band, so I ended up doing a separate pick up shot.

cripple passport photo

And my passport from around that time.

 

I have more picture with more stories and experiences, so more to come…

Jonesing on Tour

Posted in Cop Shoot Cop, jim coleman, personal histories, Uncategorized with tags , , , , on March 6, 2013 by jimcolemanmusic

In my earlier days of recklessness and misplaced rebellion, I had a lot of highs and a lot of lows. I say misplaced rebellion, because in hindsight every time I took another hit, every time I exhibited some kind of twisted anti social behavior and I thought I was laying out a big “FUCK YOU!” what really was happening was I was saying “FUCK ME!” Sure, I harmed most everyone around me, but I sure did not do much harm to the demons I thought I was lashing out at. And I certainly did myself a world of hurt.

I loved touring. Through most of my 20’s, I played and toured extensively both through the US and Europe with my old band Cop Shoot Cop. To this day, I deeply miss it at times. I know though that that was then and this is now. And I know that memories aren’t reality. An ex girlfriend of mine recently sent me a scan of a postcard I sent her once when I was touring. The first line of it was “I don’t think I can take it anymore!”

Touring would also give me a chance to drag my ass out of the chemical induced slurry pond that I would habitually reside in. I was forced to “clean up”. To me, that meant only ingesting what was available. Sure, I could bring a bunch of smack and crack with me, but that always seemed to run out so damn fast. My radar worked really well, but the fact was that hard drugs just weren’t available on the street in every town. If you ran in to me one week after leaving on tour, you would see a rail thin bug eyed twitching embodiment of depression and wonder. I was scared shitless and in Awe, like I was coming out of hibernation. The world around me was painfully clear and in focus. Light hurt. Noise was wonderful. The only place I felt right was on stage. That 60 to 90 minutes a day was exhilarating, being in the instant. Walking on a razor blade. A hyper-reality. And then the crash.

nosmoking

I would bring my mini pharmacy on the planes. FYI: it is possible to smoke crack in the airplane bathroom and not set off the alarm. I didn’t really think about what would happen if my method didn’t work. It wasn’t really even a choice. It had to work. I at least had to try. My life might be different now if it hadn’t worked.

After about 3 weeks of touring, my body would adjust to this new chemical balance. I’d emerge from withdrawals in to exhaustion, and then the exhaustion would turn in to a long lasting permeating giddiness. This would affect everyone in the band. Everything was funny, and anything was prime material for a joke. I remember getting lost in Philadelphia, and Natz repeatedly leaning out the window, asking people on the street if they could tell us how to find the Plexiglass Children. And being in a supermarket in Seattle, asking the woman at the butcher counter if you could make shakes out of chicken feet. Her answer was, “well, I reckon you could make shakes out of just about anything!” Everything was funny, and nothing was normal. Touring was wonderful because it felt like the rules and norms that contained the straight world couldn’t touch us. As a result, we did many things that could have turned out disastrous. Again, things that could have fucked up our lives for years to come but somehow they didn’t.

Canadian Border.jpg

Picture this: I’m handcuffed and detained (with the rest of my band, but it’s me they’re after) at the Canadian Border, where the authorities are going to confiscate our van along with all our gear, then pass me over to the New York State Troopers at which point I’ll be locked in a cell with the certainty of jail time attached. 3 hours later, not only are we driving away with everything intact, but the Border Cops actually gave me back the bag of dope I had stashed in my cigarette pack. How does this happen? At the time, I just took it in stride, but looking back I feel really really fortunate.

Whispers from the Alley

Posted in Cop Shoot Cop, jim coleman on January 26, 2013 by jimcolemanmusic

Ok, it’s been a long long time since I have posted here. Life sometimes takes me down these dead end dark alleys that I get lost in. I’m prone to isolation. Not the most healthy thing. I have historically been okay being alone and on my own, and that’s a good thing. But isolation is a whole different thing. Isolation is hiding out, fortifying the defenses, digging in, wearing 2 levels of kevlar.

But sometimes I walk past those dark alleys, and I hear the sirens call, this sweet syrupy voice calling my name, seducing me in to the dark mystery of the dark depths. I should know now, being in the middle of my life span, that it’s a ruse. I’ve been fooled too many times before. What starts as a sweet romance ends pile driving me in to despair that takes me to a place where the end can’t come quick enough. I thank god I’m mortal, cause I can’t take it any more, and I don’t know if I can wait until the end comes.

Yet I also know, if I just pick my ass up and get out of the alley, life is okay. I can dance. I can listen to music and feel hope, specially if it’s in a minor key!

Right now I’m listening to the latest Otep album (Hydra), which is giving me a lot of hope. Another album that works in this same way is “The Horse, The Rat & The Swan” by Snowman. Alley 1.jpg Why is it that something that is dark and deep and so damn heavy lifts me up?

CIrcumference

Posted in Cop Shoot Cop, personal histories, Phylr, Uncategorized, video on July 31, 2012 by jimcolemanmusic

I ran in to an vhs dub of an old music video I did for a Phylr track. This was from the first Phylr album (Contra la Puerta), and the track is called Circumference.


Hoping this video actually shows and not just the link, but if it is the link, please check it out and accept my apologies!

Some of this was shot in Coney Island (most memorably the big butts), some was appropriated from found footage that I had manipulated on an optical printer, some was shot in Taormina, Italy,  while at the film festival there, and some was shot in the mid west of the good old US of A.
I’ve always approached video/film in the same way I’ve approached sound/music. At the heart of it, I feel like I’m a samplist. I love working with found material, either extracting it’s essence or manipulating it so far that it becomes something totally other. In this early video, much of the footage itself is not manipulated, which goes in the face of what I just said. For one thing, this was made about 15 years ago, long before we had the manipulative tools and plug ins that we now have. I could still extract and abstract, but it worked more in the realm of editing. Creating rhythms, contrasts, definitions through juxtapositions and relationships. Oh shit, did I just disappear in to my head there?

Maybe that’s why video and music have always felt so alike to me. It’s all about the timing and the rhythms.

I recall editing this video (and starting on the second Phylr album) while staying in Banff in the Canadian Rockies. The elk have all come in from the forests to get away from the wolves and other predators. They had really overrun the town. They would literally sleep on the streets and sidewalks. You would have to walk around them. I was hiking once and I saw a family of tourists walk up to a couple of elk in some ones front yard for a photo op. They were literally putting their arm around the elk’s neck. A woman ran out of the house, yelling for them to get away. These animals are about the size of a moose, and somehow these tourists didn’t consider them dangerous. Two minutes later, one of those elks got in the middle of the road, forced a pickup truck to stop, then started repeatedly ramming in to the front of the truck.
And one last note before I go. In regards to the naming of the first Phylr album. Contra la Puerta. Against the door. Somehow I always have that feeling. It can be great and it can be just awful, terrifying, Maybe it’s akin to that worn out saying that the only constant is change. My sanity depends not on that truth,  but how I am in relation to it. Is that door taking me to some habitual hell that I’ve been through too many damn times already? Is that door taking me to a place of acceptance and love? Maybe a waiting room where I need to hang for a while waiting for the other door to open. But the thing I need to keep in mind (and heart) is that the way in which I approach that door totally affects what I’ll find on the other side of it.

Cop Shoot Cop: Live @ Reading Festival in 1994

Posted in Cop Shoot Cop with tags , , , on April 3, 2012 by jimcolemanmusic

Here is a relatively decent video from a live show we did at the Reading Festival in 1994. I remember being on the festival circuit through the UK. There was a group of fans called “Crusties”. I don’t know if this name was self created or was bestowed upon them, but it definitely fit. They would travel around from festival to festival, hitting shows in clubs in between. Hygiene was a secondary concern. Cigarettes were hand rolled Drum. They were fucking fierce fans, you couldn’t ask for better. There was one guy in particular who kept with us. We would pass him on the road, hitch-hiking to the next show or festival, literally day after day. We never picked him up, the van was just too packed. But we got him in to the shows for free.