Looking at... Rare French Gorillaz Advertisement

One of the coolest pieces in my Gorillaz collection is an obscure French ad from 2001 promoting the Clint Eastwood and 19-2000 singles. While this may seem unremarkable at fist glance, what makes the advertisement notable is the extremely rare artwork spanning it's front - a piece that, besides the extremely low quality version pictured to the right, exists nowhere else on the web. In fact, my version is different from the "Rasputin Music" equivalent; Murdoc being a briny green on my copy, while theirs shows a tan skinned take on the character. How strange is that?

Some suggest that it may be a green overlay on the photo, while others think it could come down to a difference in how certain monitors and cameras pick up colors. You'll notice 2-D's hair is noticably lighter in the Rasputin image, while on mine, it's a bit more purple. Based on the Rasputin image being a digital version with mine a physical, I'm assuming there was, in fact, a green hue added to my version of the artwork; as further suggested by Noodle and Russel's greyer skin, and the general darkness of the colors.

A later version of the above image

Astute fans will notice that this art was conceptually reused during Gorillaz' second marketing phase, with each character replaced by their updated designs; though, the second version appears to be an entirely new drawing, simply sharing a similar structure. No other versions of this artwork exist, making it exclusive to Gorillaz' first two eras; though, unsurprisingly, countless artists have taken it upon themselves to fill in the blanks.


The ad is printed on glossy cardstock, and is a big larger than your average paper, suggesting to me that it was a sort of "flyer" available perhaps at record stores or similar shops. I recall similar ads were listed by the person I bought mine from, which further supports my theory. From what I've translated, it boasts of the singles' success, as well as what radio and television stations will be airing the accompanying music videos. Very interesting to jump back to a time before some of the most famous of Gorillaz content had been realized.

Having reintroduced the artwork to fans years ago, it's awesome seeing it become a common image among the following; once all but unknown, now respected and loved by many - I've even seen fully animated incarnations made! As small as my relation is, it's great to have made a small impact by rediscovering this neat little image. 

The Corona Chronicles - They've Come To Save Us, The Space Invaders

What's this? A followup post to an entry made over three years ago?!

An empty WalMart aisle; ignoring one odd stack of plates

That's right - another natural disaster has fallen upon us; this time not a hurricane, but a horrible, world-spanning sickness! Coronavirus - How nice.

International travel has been barred, supplies are running out fast, and people - broadly speaking - seem to be driving directly into a wall of panic; perhaps rightfully so. I'm a bit of a "don't believe it until you see it" type when it comes to mass chaos - I've seen enough world-ending disasters tumble by to grow totally unphased by yet another black death. Anyone remember Swine Flu?

Occam's Ashes' "PigBus"

Still, as I mentioned, there might be a bit of legitimacy to this round of hysteria. Enough mass gatherings and everyday services have cancelled to the point where the economy is taking a hit. Even my job, a shipping gig, seems to be taking a hit; with only one very sparsely packed truck coming in this week, rather than the usual two or three.

That said, though, not much has particularly affected me. I'm still coasting along my odd, dreary life - bouncing between drawing, writing, and haunting around the local soon-to-be-gone Macy's.

It's interesting how the slow decline of Macy's has closely paralleled not only the concluding days of my authoring of Fate, but also the end of my life in Florida; the store's dwindling shelves and disappearing furnishings mirroring my fading regard for what many experiences I've gathered here; from long-lost friends, to sullen experiences, to sights and sounds of days passed. MidLife itself retells my life as an unwilling Floridian - unbelievably fitting that it finally reaches birth as I prepare to abandon the state in which it was conceived. Things always make sense in hindsight; as I've always strongly believed, everything happens for a reason.

Only seven days left until the store finally closes it's doors. I've only bought one thing thus far... a clipboard. Hey, I needed one anyways. I really wanted to buy one of the huge fiberglass leaves taken from the store's pillars-turned-palm trees, but sadly, I don't think it'd be all that worth it when I'm weeks from a nation-crossing move. Still, very neat pieces of obscure history. Guess that shows what'll happen to the store's huge entry display, itself a sized-up version of the aforementioned palm trees.

There really isn't much else of interest, unfortunately. Loads of branded shelves, some random brand iconography, but nothing all that unique. Even the clothes themselves aren't that enticing - I think the core crowd, as of now, are just above the thrift store types. A little too proud for Goodwill, but not quite above Ross. In other words, the Bealls Outlet society.


Surprisingly the store, as well as the attached mall itself, isn't all that quiet in the midst of the Corona scare; probably because we all have little else to do, bored out of our minds without work, school, or any other viable time wasters. Odd time to be alive, isn't it?

Also, I drove by the seemingly abandoned "chocolate factory" I discovered a few posts back, only to discover it is finally back in business! Glad to see things are going well. 

Primary Ocean

Things have been going well; visiting family, going to work, and - as always - chipping away at the sculpt of MidLife.

The pilot script is reaching it's climax - a section I've been itching to write for months, and finally have the thrill of putting down on paper. Before long, writing will totally wrap up, allowing me time to sketch out some concept art, finish the website, whip together "episode zero", and more. I'm very excited.

A Workspace of Chaos

A variety of Chistmas decor

I've been checking in on Macy's the past few days; sales are still going strong, though, just as last time, there's really nothing worth buying when their original prices were neigh insane. However, with so many fixtures available, there are some neat finds to be had - I bought a couple plastic signholders and mannequin limbs, perfect for future artistic endeavors.

I spotted a pretty neat piece of Macy's history hiding among the defunct furniture; a Christmas-themed mailbox, perfect for letters straight to Santa. It's sad seeing such a whimsical icon crammed behind caution tape, surely to be scrapped, stored, or simply shipped off to some company warehouse. If I weren't moving so soon, you bet I'd have made it mine.

Behind it was also a sort of countdown-to-Christmas clock, bearing the classic R.H. Macy & Co. label.

Santa himself

One of my favorite things about the location are the retro plastic palm trees serving as support pillars all around the store, which can be seen in my previous Macy's post; along with the baby-blue sky mural painted along it's ceilings. Beautifully outdated.

Outside it's mall entrance, a pair of similar palms hoist the store's sign - a very striking, creative display you'd likely never see in the dreadfully modern malls of now. I wonder what'll happen to the signage - if anything, at all.



With Sears gone, Macy's on the way out, and more than half it's stores serving as vacant storage space, Indian River Mall may not be around for long - I theorize, sooner than later, I might just see it pop up on BrightSunFilms' Abandoned series or as the backdrop to some glittery Vaporwave mix. Maybe I ought to beat the crowd.

I've been recently diving into the music of Japanese rock band Honeydip with their album Groovy Indian Summer, a pop-meets-shoegaze jam full of sunny melodies and rollicking guitar chords. My favorite is the unusually titled Suicidal Summer Rider - an exhilarating little tune sure to make you yearn for groggy sunsets and shiny days. Not me, though. I always have that.

I've also been listening to Lemongrass' Maison A La Mer, Versus' live performance of Moon Palace, The Residents' Kaw-Liga, Rocket Juice and The Moon's Follow Fashion, The Unfadable, and There, The Pixies' Ana, and Mac Demarco's My Kind of Woman. Gorillaz' album Demon Days has recently become my go-to beach soundtrack; unusual, I know, but something about it's dark, groovy atmosphere really matches the serene winds and skies of a grey midday coast.

I spotted a neat washed-up number of some kind beside the water a few days ago, covered in barnacles and visible wear; can't help but wonder if it washed up from some forgotten shipwreck out at sea, perhaps too old for any local to clearly recall. More likely, though, it simply fell off some random cargo freighter - but, either way, an interesting sight.

Looking at... The Cornerstone Player #024 (Gorillazish Mix)

Among the rarest Gorillaz-related items I own is The Cornerstone Player #024; a promotional compilation CD set featuring various artists, mixtapes, music videos and more. Though I couldn't quite narrow down the total number of Cornerstone Player releases, it seems to have ran from 1999 to the mid-2000s, serving as a joint effort between the closely related Cornerstone marketing company and Fader record label. Intended to promote up-and-coming musical artists, Cornerstone Player's are simply riddled with names sure to inspire nostalgia; when's the last time you remembered The Dandy Warhols, Gang Starr, or Spacehog?

The front and back covers

Though Gorillaz' singles made various appearances throughout the Player's lifetime, their most notable contribution came in the form of "Gorillazish Mix"; a deftly DJ'ed mixtape put together by Gorillaz producer Dan the Automator, mashing Gorillaz tunes and interviews into an eclectic variety of tonally similar tracks, featuring appearances from Cash Money, Marvelous, Brand Nubian, Sizzla, Sigur Ros, Deltron 3030, EPMD, Handsome Boy Modelling School, and Depeche Mode - some of which hearken from Automator's long musical backlog. Being exclusive to the Player, the mixtape has fallen to total obscurity; so much so that, in fact, my rips and scans of the compilation are the only high-quality copies available. Always fun to make a significant contribution to the following, regardless of relative scale.

The main sleeve contains three pieces; disc one and two's slipcases, and an insert. Unfortunately, all three pieces don't quite fit into the sleeve properly, leading to some damaging along the sleeve's spine. More often than not, I simply unfold the spine to allow enough room for all it's contents. As a promotional item with a very low production rate, it's not surprising a few design flaws may have resulted from their more low-key approach.

The first disc in the set is referred to as "The Tripwire", which seems to be the main disc of the two; featuring the majority of the compilation's unique artists, presenting a wide variety of hot singles. With selections such as FatBoy Slim, Dub Pistols, Afroman, Long Beach Dub Allstars, and Nickelback, it's not hard to tell the disc came from 2002.

Alongside this set is the aforementioned insert detailing each track, offering insight and opinions via upbeat, anecdotal, ready-for-print blurbs; describing Bad Ronald as "...the slickest new kids on the block", Moods for Moderns as "...three long haired members of the That 70s Show cast", and Farrah as a "...straight up barbershop quartet band". The turn of a century certainly was a unique time for popular music, wasn't it?

Disc two, "Summer Music Special 2001" offers both the mix itself and a handful of assorted music videos. It seems to have been specifically designed to coincide with Fader's eighth issue, which featured the unique photo of Gorillaz dissing Fader itself as it's cover. Perfectly subversive - I suppose 90's irony hadn't quite died by that point.

The mix itself is very interesting and fun, and, being so rare, is one of my favorite pieces of neigh-lost Gorillaz media. You can't go wrong with Automator's eccentric mixing skills, and Gorillazish Mix never fails to remain cool. It's most interesting elements are the intertwined voice clips of 2-D, Murdoc, Noodle and Russel, a unique remix of 5/4, and a rather strange tracklisting error. Sigur Ros' track, "Staralfur", is actually "Svefn-g-Englar" - a mistake carried into just about every online tracklisting I've come across. Something tells me very few have bothered to identify the song, as with even a cursory glance, the difference is pretty apparent.

Gorillazish Mix is a neat piece of obscura, and represents the band's earliest form rather well; an electric, artsy, everything-plus-the-kitchen-sink approach to alternative hip-hop, with wild mood swings and big club bangers to boot. If you can track down my rips, give 'em a listen - you won't be disappointed. 

Tall Crash

Did a bit of exploring today around the outside of my local mall. Though I initially headed there to collect B-roll footage for a film project I've just begun, I soon began noticing some interesting sights I hadn't before - and, as an urbex lover, I couldn't resist taking in the haunting scenery.

I've been to various abandoned places over the years; from the dilapidated remains of a closed Circuit City, to the forest-hidden paths of the long forgotten Prehistoric Forest theme park, to a gigantic headless dinosaur sculpture hidden along a deep Florida road. No matter the banality of the site, abandonment is something I will always find fascinating.

I first came across the closed interior of some sort of typical sports bar, clearly visible through the windows lining it's outside deck. I'd liked to have gotten closer and taken more detailed photos, but the area was still pretty lively at that time of night - I'm not exactly one to test my limits in these sorts of situations.

It's always interesting to see a once lively spot such as this in such a strikingly quiet state - it's lights shining brightly on an empty dining room. Perhaps I will take further photos on a future endeavor.

I then passed by the colossal remains of a Sears superstore; one I'd been in various times in the past, in fact. This certainly wasn't the first time I'd inspected it's abandoned state - nor was it the first ex-Sears I'd appreciated - though it was the first time I'd allowed myself to really analyze and admire the area. I couldn't help but revel in the odd beauty of the store's wholly unused shipping station; a large gap in it's roofing reminding me of a soothing skylight, the cloudy murk above accentuating the bleak scene below.

An enticing half-open door called for me from the nearby wall, though, as said before, I decided not to take any risks at such a heavily populated hour. My curiosity is killing me.

A large portion of the building's side sat bathed in darkness, little but a large sign and a wall-off door resting amongst the shadows. It can be seen in this post's banner, in all it's ambiguous allure.

On the opposite side of the building, a handful of outdoor lights remained on - one of which was flickering sporadically, echoing the lamest of horror pictures. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't a bit unsettled by it's presence; I suppose that goes to show my wavering adventurous spirit.

Nearby, I found the shattered remains of a plaque that once displayed the store's founding date - clearly torn from the wall in the least professional manner possible. Though I'd like to imagine an owner or manager may have taken it, chances are another urban explorer got their hands on the neat little item - admittedly, if I had seen it resting anywhere nearby, I'd have certainly added it to my odd collection of forgotten telephones, signs and paraphernalia.

Much more interesting, however, was the quiet and shadowy home of Sears' Auto Center; placed among the brush across the road. With oceanic winds gusting by and an odd chill in the air, I couldn't help but find myself a bit spooked - all the better, in urbex. Much like it's larger brother, a single light flickered on and off along it's front garage; a bright red 'exit' sign visible through it's dim, soot-tinted windows, floating lonesomely in the inky black.

I didn't stick around for long, as not much of interest was really able to be seen through said obscured windows; however, should I make my way there again during the day, I suppose some light may shine through and allow me a better look at what is hidden within.

It's a shame malls have become a breeding ground for the culturally forgotten; though, as has always been, time must keep marching on. Besides - without respecting and learning from the losses of our past, how can we truly appreciate what is offered in our present?

Sears was always too pricey anyways.