Taylor Mead Superstar and Human Being 12/31/24-5/8/13
“I want to heat up/ the spoon of your intellect/ to feed my
sensuality,” says Taylor Mead in his 1968 book Taylor Mead On Amphetamine and in Europe.
photo: diaart
In the early 1980s Taylor and I were sitting next to each
other at a Museum of Modern Art poetry reading that was located near the west
side train yards on W. 30th street.
Robert Kelly was reading. A
videographer took his camera off the tripod and walked down the middle aisle
toward the poet. Kelly, deeply offended,
stopped reading and called down a cosmic malediction upon the
videographer. He then said that he would
not read anymore and was leaving. I was
sitting next to Taylor and I shouted out from the back of the room, “Read the
poem Bob!” The poet continued his reading,
which was wonderful, profound and rich with layers of meaning. (It was Robert Kelly after all.)
Taylor asked me then and there if I would be videographer
for, The Taylor Mead Show. It was being recorded at Chinese Chance and
then moved to The Mudd Club. This was
before I did the Willoughby Sharp Show
or hosted the Midnight Muse. Stephen Paul Miller was producing and booking the show. He worked
well with Mead; he kept things sane among the upstairs crowd at this downtown
club. Most of our run was in the
upstairs room at the club. Miller was
quiet, intellectual and sane; he was a perfect contrast to Tailor’s persona of
fey, frenetic, decadence. Steve Mass bought The Mudd Club building from Ross Bleckner
and it became an important venue. Some very
amazing people were among the performers.
I remember seeing the B-52s early on. William Burroughs, and Allen
Ginsberg, The Talking Heads and a lot of people who were never heard from again
had great moments at The Mudd Club. I was the videographer and read my own work on various
nights. Everybody did everything. Marilyn Schrut took lots of still
pictures. I shot a lot of video at the
Mudd Club and a little at Chinese Chance that I hope will help preserve the legacy
of Taylor Mead and the downtown performance scene. Taylor Mead may have penned his own best
epitaph when he wrote, “Some of these lost people are the best lovers on
earth.” EC
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