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Newsletter No. 24: STRONG ENOUGH FOR A MAN, BUT MADE FOR A WOMAN "Sartre was a recognizable type of speed freak, the type dedicated to obsessive, unfinishable, and to the neutral observer, pointless toil - the sort who, several hours after taking the drug, can usually be found sitting on the floor, grinding his teeth and alphabetizing his CDs by the name of the sound engineer." - John Lancaster Happy Know-a-Negro Month. Happy Valentine's Day. Happy Hoard-a-Drug Month. I mean the point is this: whoever brought package broke gate and got chased by dogs. That's the fucking point. Or better yet THIS is the fucking point: sometimes a man's bravery is measured not by what he does but by what he says he's going to do. Case in point in a case of a point of life imitating fiction Eugene, a miserable journeyman fighter, was asked by "The Brazilians" to fight Francisco "Chico" Bueno on a nationally televised Brazilian broadcast. No rules. No time limits. And for Eugene no corner man, no doctor, no trainer, no entourage. $5000. $2500 before. $2500 after. Maybe. The catch? Well don't let the Chico fool you. His record is a mighty 40 wins to 1 loss. And no other Americans cared enough about an all expense paid trip to beautiful Rio di Janeiro to run the risk of a pummeling by a man named Chico. But Eugene cared. Cared enough to take the fight. Cared enough to nurse his DREAM. You see, Eugene "The Fool" Robinson believed he had a chance and trained like it. Like he had never even SEEN Rocky before. Running up hills with 50-pound bags of gravel. Fighting. Bizarre diet modifications that had him running roid-like rages over mis-labeled packages of meat and newspaper headlines. Fighting some more. Getting knocked out by this fucking piker while sparring: http://graciefighter.com/index.php?page=fighters&name=chris_sanford Abstaining from sexual contact (must... keep... straight... face...). Fighting. Starving. Weightlifting. Fighting. Fighting. And finally fighting. Fighting so much that when he went to a job interview at the amusingly titled website GAY.COM his face was an off-maroon plum of bruises that he explained away by saying "I fell." (They hired someone NOT insane for the job, by the by). And then the phone rings and just as easily as the good lord gives, the evil motherfucker takes away and the fight is postponed. A Brazilian "postponed," which means they could call tomorrow. Or never. So like the nomadic Cain, Eugene wanders through the steeps and the shallows of the city looking for a certain elusive satisfaction and a desire that won't be sated no matter how many people he screws, no matter how many drugs he huffs, no matter how many senior citizens he bullies. A member of the Lost Battalion, Robinson is a ghost. He's a fucking shadow. He is stuck in that limbo of being really glad he didn't get the much anticipated ass-kicking and being simultaneously mournful that he'll never see the beaches of Ipanema through swollen shut eyes. It's fucking sad. So sad. So sad in fact that we're going to hold a telethon, sponsored in part by the men of the OXBOW Fight Club (meeting this Weds., Feb. 5th if you care and want to come, 650-714-4891). It's not the kind of telethon where you cry and get stoned in front of the TV. It's not the kind of telethon where we're even asking you to send money. It IS however the kind of telethon where we ask you to give Eugene what he so ardently desires. Call it a reason to live. Call it a reason to love. Call it a fistfight. Next time you see him, be it in line at Safeway, at the 16th street BART station trying to score some heroin, or even at Bachelor Books, take a swing at him. That's right. Just haul off and hit him in the head as hard as you can. Kick him in the nuts. Knock a tooth out if you can. Believe us, you'll be doing all of us a favor. He's driving US nuts.

IF VICE MAGAZINE SAYS IT IS SO, THEN IT MUST BE SO "OXBOW... the greatest artrock band in the world." http://Viceland.com/issues/v9n10/htdocs/beaten.php

and you thought we were bullshitting when we said they were making a movie about us Well we weren't. It's in rough cut now and has had a few screenings and below is the commentary of a big unnamed Hollywood director whose name might rhyme with Steven Soderbergh. Read it and wait eagerly for it to come to a prison near you. Herr Director: I got me some Oxbow today. I got me some Oxbow. I'm so excited to finally get some Oxbow. What a cool movie it's going to be. It was so fun to watch. In reply to the note you enclosed with the tape; yes, it is very interesting. I think the band is so cool and it's funny because I knew very little about them going into the film and left it with a good feeling of who they are and what their gig is. That being said, I think it would be cool if there were some performance footage right at the top. Blasting during the credits. E. whacking it, slamming people's faces into him, etc. Full-force Oxbow. As an audience member, I wanted to know why you decided to use them as a subject. I wanted to see who they were before I invested time in finding out their deal. It takes until the second stop in Norway before we see them perform. There's the still stores and the cool music behind the first performance, but I wanted to see them as a band first or the still stores didn't matter as much to me. It might heighten the E. talking about needing a poolball weapon and Niko's mild-mannered apprehension and the little promoter guy's hesitation if the audience gets a taste of what's in store for them. Is there no footage of the first show? I also wanted to see what happened after E. said he forgot his showpants. That was such a funny, every performer thing to say and then we didn't see the results of it. Did he take his pants off right away in that performance anyway? In my head, I was thinking how cool it would be if there was footage of them talking about first show jitters or that it wasn't what they wanted or that they rocked, whatever and then you see the first show and get a taste of how different they are as a band yet they talk about performing like any more commercial group. I loved the Bergen performance. It was so cool. I loved the guy's comments afterwards, too about being raped and left. I was right there with him. Oh, the English incident with the guy getting jumped on stage. Why did you cut between Eugene dressed and undressed? It seemed a little unclear to me. The guy just came up and Eugene jumped him? I liked how non-chalant Niko was the next day about it. I also liked Eugene's point that if you want to see The Strokes or Hives, you're at the wrong show. It was the first indication of their point of view as a band which I liked hearing about and craved hearing about more. I think that's a good arc, that and money. It seems like there's a lot of shocking stuff with little explanation as to why they like to shock. How did they become so out there? Did they have any influences besides the germ of James Brown? What do they want us to walk away with in terms of an interpretation of them? Do they not care at all? Why not? I wanted to hear a history of the band because it's not like the Stones or someone where you already know all about them. Later on we hear the history of their recording session but I didn't even know the name of their album. Did they meet in art school? I know that I started out thinking the band was pretty ridiculous and pretentious and by the end of the movie, I dug that they were all about their own specific art and not concerned about meeting any other expectations. Why does Eugene feel the need to strip and stroke? Is it just the emotion of the moment or is he trying to get more across? The other band members are so nonchalant, I'd love to know what they think about it. Is it ego? Does he work out on the road? (He's pretty built. What's up with that?) You kind of get a feeling when Niko's eating vegemite and talking about the guy Eugene's played with the night before, and he says, "Apparently he (the audience member) was asking for it." I love that. I wanted to hear more stuff like that. I liked the arc about money. I felt like if there were more footage about that, I would like to see it. That whole thing where they seem really above the notion of caring about it (mentioning the Strokes and the Hives several times) yet by the end of the tour they're talking about how quickly they would sell out if the opportunity arose. Everyone gets sick of being broke, no matter how artistic. Finally, Eugene mentions that he does what he does as a source for his kids so they know what he was like at this point in his life. Why does anyone else do it? The drummer or Niko? The other guy, you just hear on the phone setting up a gig, what's his deal? I kept thinking about Niko. He knows so much about people like Bartok and then he does this strange, weird music. Do you have any more stuff with his take on the band?

AND WHEN IN STORMY WEATHER THEY'D KNOCK TOGETHER, LIGHTNING SHOT OUT OF THEIR ASS The OXBOW show schedule is a fucking laundry list of TO BE CONFIRMEDS. But so what? One errant bus and it's all unconfirmed anyway so pay attention and remind of us of the following as we get closer because we really can't be bothered remembering all of this shit ourselves. FEBRUARY 14, 2003, KUSF Radio 90.3 FM, 3pm to 4pm, Eugene guest DJs their Valentine's Day show and spends the entire show hitting on the real DJ. MARCH 12, LE PRIVILEGE, AUSTIN, TEXAS, SOUTH BY SOUTHWEST. Yeah so what? We got invited three years in a row? And you know what? We still ain't seen a dime. MARCH ??, BURNT RAMEN with TOTIMOSHI. MARCH ??, BOTTOM OF THE HILL with SUBARACHNOID SPACE APRIL 1ST, ??, with LORD NASTY APRIL 3 - APRIL 17TH, OXBOW ACOUSTIC, SOMEWHERE THE FUCK IN EUROPE APRIL 19TH, ??, SACRAMENTO with ?? ALL OF JUNE, ASSORTED WEST COAST SHOWS with JUCIFER FESTIVALS END OF JUNE 27/28, rock dans tous ces etats - evreux july 3/4 scopitone - nantes july 4/5/6 eurockeennes - belfort july ??? LONDON, BUSY LONDON july 10/11/12/13 dour festival - dour/belgium

NEWSFLASH No. 1: Plastic Head Distribution drops OXBOW's AN EVIL HEAT while OXBOW wonders: Does KARL DEMATA cry tears of sorrow when he contemplates his past as a cocksucking strawman for OXBOW's hostility? NEWSFLASH NO. 2: CARGO RECORDS UK PICKS UP OXBOW's AN EVIL HEAT and promises to sell more than the 11 copies that international juggernaut Plastic Head Distribution managed to sell during their EIGHT month run with same record. FROM THE SCROTUM Did we say Dickeheads? We meant GENIUSES! "Hey Oigen, I just went to the website of the Artrocker review, and you left the complimentary back half of the review out of the newsletter. It goes on to say good things. Check it out. Dan" ICA- NOXAGT and OXBOW : yes, I missed Nought. I maybe was ill and a bit upset. I can't see the fuss about Noxagt, just because they have a viola. The sound is Melvins doing instrumentals, and melvins have never been one of my favourite band. What the fuck, just write some songs. And that guy wouldn't for certain change the world of violin, in the last 10 years the only violinist worth remembering is only Warren Ellis, not even Mark Feldham. Slow and noise. Sorry, I prefer Coldplay, at least they have some songs. With Oxbow it went a bit better, maybe because they have a real great drummer. Unfortunately everything was spoiled by the huge frontman, who spent all of his time in underwear, screeching like some old mad tramp, squeezing his dick to the excited crowd and thumping himself. And I couldn't care less about his dick. It's not provocative, it's not clever, it's not art, it is just musically useless. So disgusting. Just sing some good good tunes, that's one of the most difficult thing in the world. Institute of contemporary arts ? Sorry, I prefer Coldplay, at least they have some songs. And now, change of tune !! Let's just say that the following day I had the chance to hear everything again. Now, left only with the music by itself, supreme goddess of life (what the fuck, Luzio The Blagger going into philosophy ?), no images, no frontman contorting on a stage, everything now stroke me as intense and powerful, darker and slower version of Shellac (still untouchable masters of rhythms). And even the voice now perfectly fitted in that picture. Who knows, maybe it's just because I had a temperature. http://artrocker.com/default.php?action=show&pageid=34

FROM RAGE AGAINST THE MACHINE TO OXBOW IN ONE GIANT FUCKING STEP Letter from a man who saw the Pound SF show: "Overall I enjoyed myself completely with a sole exception...I just wish I could have seen you guys play in front of a live audience!!! I am not pissing on those who attended the show for I truly believe that they were exactly where they wanted to be, but I am merely giving an opinion to what I saw... seriously though... complimentary applause in-between songs...REALLY!!! There is an actual life force that exist between composer and listener in a live performance that is symbiotic in its nature where one actually feeds off the other as the other as well in turn feeds off the one. Yet, I can only speak for myself, but I did not feel it in that club. Your performance through the set..........pretty fucking intense. You got presence up there on stage. Twice I saw you up there with blood aggression in your stare and felt a twinge of identification for whatever that was worth, yet enjoyed the set nonetheless. I nearly shuddered when you and your drummer told me how infrequently you really play...I mean I understand in part and only in part behind the philosophy of your work, for who truly understands another completely let alone themselves for that matter. Yet, no matter the road you fellows travel...the end result remains the same, that of a shame. One more thing before I escape your attention...I understand that you list your scheduled dates of appearance in your news letters, but for whatever reason should you guys have a sudden gig at a moments notice, please e-mail me because I can travel as far north as Reno and as far south as San Jose and bring along whoever is within my grasps." - Ian HELP THIS GODDAMNED MAN Eugene says: "Stephan Ielpi. Jesus. I used to see the guy on the D train when I was 16 and going to high school. Hitler mustache. Monkey skull on a stick. Genius. Flash forward to the hardcore hey day and his band The False Prophets and now and again to Stefan moving to San Francisco and not being able to find anyone to play with. It's a fucking travesty for a singer who can rock a Hitler mustache. Please, please, please get this motherfucker singing for your band. Isn't Walter Weasel from The Flying Luttenbachers in San Francisco now? Write Stephan, you bastard (s)." stephan_f_prophet@hotmail.com NEXT ISSUE: THE WIRE DECLARES OXBOW'S GENIUS IN THEIR ASIAN DUB FOUNDATION ISSUE, THE VICE UK DOES THE SAME, AND OXBOW SEARCH FRUITLESSLY FOR DRUGS. ANY DRUGS AT ALL. ANY. YOU GOT THEM? WE WANT THEM! SERIOUSLY. THE MORE DANGEROUS THE BETTER. THANKS. NOW BACK TO FRITTERING AWAY OUR GENIUS. [ Newsletter ]