Crazy Horse

AS A board member of the Whitman Council Neighborhood Advisory Committee, I can say that Catherine Lucey's article (Here's Some Nudes For You, Nov. 21) was right on target. There is outrage and opposition to the opening of Crazy Horse Too, a new gentleman's club in the Whitman section of Philadelphia. The Liquor Control Board claims there are no grounds to investigate the establishments liquor license. What greater grounds, than opposition from the people who matter the most, the residents who reside in the community?

The great Sioux leader Crazy Horse, one of the most charismatic figures of the Battle of Little Bighorn, was known by his own people as "the strange one" or the "Strange Man of the Oglala. " Fascination about him continues to this day. After The Inquirer ran a purported photo of Crazy Horse yesterday as part of its coverage of the 127th anniversary of the battle and the dedication of an Indian memorial, dozens of readers phoned, e-mailed or wrote to question the authenticity of the picture.

Frederick Wiseman, the fly-on-the-wall documentarian who long ago trained his camera on the students and teachers of Philadelphia's Northeast High (in 1968's High School) and who has, over the years, chronicled the inner workings of missile bases, hospitals, ballet companies, state legislatures, and boxing gyms, brings his observational style to bear, or bare, on the Crazy Horse Saloon, the Paris nude revue. For the two hours plus of Crazy Horse, the camera pokes around the luxe cabaret, trolling the dressing rooms where the G-stringed dancers apply false eyelashes and flame-red wigs, prepping for the elaborate stage show - a show being seriously revamped by Crazy Horse's intense choreographer and director, Philippe Decouflé.

Rock and roll hath no fury like the sound of Neil Young & Crazy Horse. "I might pick up a pen, scribble on a page / Try to make sense of my inner rage," the enduring 67-year-old guitarist and songwriter sang in "I'm From Ontario" early in a hellacious 13-song, two hour-plus show that went on ringing in satisfied customers' ears long after they exited the Wells Fargo Center on Thursday night. With his longtime cohorts Crazy Horse - the primeval trio of guitarist Frank "Pancho" Sampedro, drummer Ralph Molina and bass player Billy Talbot, with whom Young released both the covers album Americana and double-disc of originals Psychedelic Pill this year - Young lets his inner rage roar through a maelstrom of unapologetically unkempt guitar noise.

While he lived, the great Oglala chief Crazy Horse never let himself be sketched or photographed. Any reproduction of his image, he believed, would rob him of his spiritual strength. So today, more than a century after his death, some of his descendants are saddened by the massive likeness of him being blasted out of the Black Hills here. That sculpture, when completed sometime well into the 21st century, will be the world's largest, 563 feet tall, 641 feet long. The head itself, the outline of which has only recently emerged after 50 years of work, is nine stories tall.

The cultures of Mexico and the United States blend in the music of Los Lobos, a band due at the Tower Theater in Upper Darby with the Smithereens tonight. In 1984, Los Lobos put out one of rock's finest debut albums with How Will the Wolf Survive? The Los Angeles quintet issued a worthy follow-up, By the Light of the Moon, this year. But it took the sound track from this summer's film La Bamba to get the band the notoriety - and, in the title track, the hit - that it so richly deserved.

The Crazy Horse Night Club in Barrington may lose its teenage dance permit because it owes back taxes to the borough. The Borough Council has served notice that it may not renew a teenage- curfew exemption permit for the dances when the permit expires Jan. 31. The club, located on Clements Bridge Road, owes $10,449 in delinquent real estate taxes for 1991. The curfew exemption for the Crazy Horse dances makes it possible for teenagers to attend even though the borough has a 9:30 p.m. curfew for people under 18. The dances have been held from on Saturday nights from 7 to 12:30 a.m. and from 7 to 11 p.m. on Sundays that fall before Monday holidays.

In Roy Crazy Horse's office are the accoutrements of two vastly different and often clashing lifestyles - one embraced out of choice, the other out of necessity. There are a boom-box-like radio, a Sony television and a videocassette recorder, a walkie-talkie and two safes. There are Crazy Horse's paper- cluttered desk and a telephone with four continuously ringing, buzzing and blinking lines. But as noisy and obtrusive as these items are, they do not obscure the real tone of the room.

Rock and roll hath no fury like the sound of Neil Young & Crazy Horse. "I might pick up a pen, scribble on a page / Try to make sense of my inner rage," the enduring 67-year-old guitarist and songwriter sang in "I'm From Ontario" early in a hellacious, 13-song, two-hour-plus show that went on ringing in satisfied customers' ears long after they exited the Wells Fargo Center on Thursday night. With his longtime cohorts Crazy Horse - the primeval trio of guitarist Frank "Pancho" Sampedro, drummer Ralph Molina, and bass player Billy Talbot, with whom Young released both the covers album Americana and double-disc of originals Psychedelic Pill this year - Young lets his inner rage roar through a maelstrom of unapologetically unkempt guitar noise.

Gallop, don't trot to the Ritz at the Bourse to see "Year Of The Horse," if you're a fan of rock 'n' roll perennials Neil Young and Crazy Horse. Not because it's an especially great film, mind you, but because it's highly unlikely this rockumentary by Jim Jarmusch will last more than a weekend, let alone a year at the cinema. In musical terms, the film does carry a punch, with excellent stereo and occasional surround-sound reproduction of full European and U.S. concert performances by Young and his longtime saddlepals - focusing on extended jammers like "Slip Away," "Stupid Girl," "Tonight's the Night" and "Like a Hurricane.

Rock and roll hath no fury like the sound of Neil Young & Crazy Horse. "I might pick up a pen, scribble on a page / Try to make sense of my inner rage," the enduring 67-year-old guitarist and songwriter sang in "I'm From Ontario" early in a hellacious, 13-song, two-hour-plus show that went on ringing in satisfied customers' ears long after they exited the Wells Fargo Center on Thursday night. With his longtime cohorts Crazy Horse - the primeval trio of guitarist Frank "Pancho" Sampedro, drummer Ralph Molina, and bass player Billy Talbot, with whom Young released both the covers album Americana and double-disc of originals Psychedelic Pill this year - Young lets his inner rage roar through a maelstrom of unapologetically unkempt guitar noise.

Rock and roll hath no fury like the sound of Neil Young & Crazy Horse. "I might pick up a pen, scribble on a page / Try to make sense of my inner rage," the enduring 67-year-old guitarist and songwriter sang in "I'm From Ontario" early in a hellacious 13-song, two hour-plus show that went on ringing in satisfied customers' ears long after they exited the Wells Fargo Center on Thursday night. With his longtime cohorts Crazy Horse - the primeval trio of guitarist Frank "Pancho" Sampedro, drummer Ralph Molina and bass player Billy Talbot, with whom Young released both the covers album Americana and double-disc of originals Psychedelic Pill this year - Young lets his inner rage roar through a maelstrom of unapologetically unkempt guitar noise.

Frederick Wiseman, the fly-on-the-wall documentarian who long ago trained his camera on the students and teachers of Philadelphia's Northeast High (in 1968's High School) and who has, over the years, chronicled the inner workings of missile bases, hospitals, ballet companies, state legislatures, and boxing gyms, brings his observational style to bear, or bare, on the Crazy Horse Saloon, the Paris nude revue. For the two hours plus of Crazy Horse, the camera pokes around the luxe cabaret, trolling the dressing rooms where the G-stringed dancers apply false eyelashes and flame-red wigs, prepping for the elaborate stage show - a show being seriously revamped by Crazy Horse's intense choreographer and director, Philippe Decouflé.

AS A board member of the Whitman Council Neighborhood Advisory Committee, I can say that Catherine Lucey's article (Here's Some Nudes For You, Nov. 21) was right on target. There is outrage and opposition to the opening of Crazy Horse Too, a new gentleman's club in the Whitman section of Philadelphia. The Liquor Control Board claims there are no grounds to investigate the establishments liquor license. What greater grounds, than opposition from the people who matter the most, the residents who reside in the community?

Around 10 Wednesday night, as the Rolling Stones were midway through a hit parade at the Wachovia Center that excluded "Can't You Hear Me Knocking," the hairy Southern-rock revisionists known as My Morning Jacket were at the Theatre of Living Arts, channeling the cosmic samba outro of that song to hallucinogenic effect. MMJ, which plays there again tonight, had just skanked at a leisurely pace through the meat of "Off the Record," one of many numbers it did from the new Z, a stellar step forward for the quintet.

Funeral services will be held Sunday for Chief Roy Crazy Horse, 79, who fought for years to build and then presided over a 350-acre wooded reservation for the 5,000-member Powhatan Renape Nation. Chief Crazy Horse, also known as Roy Johnson, or Reds, died Nov. 11 at his Medford home. His creation, the Rankokus Indian Reservation, is home to a semiannual arts festival, a fashion show and a museum, all celebrating Native American culture. It has attracted Willie Nelson, and it has brought to the area Navajo "code talkers," used by U.S. intelligence during World War II to relay messages indecipherable to the enemy.

Neil Young can always be counted on for audacity, but with his current tour, which reached the Tweeter Center on Wednesday, the mercurial auteur hit a curious zenith. Rather than offer up hits, as most classic rockers do in the summer, Young and his trusty sidekicks Crazy Horse delivered a 1 1/2-hour rock theater piece built on the songs from their forthcoming CD, Greendale. To accompany them, Young utilized clever sets and a large screen onto which animated backdrops were projected.

The great Sioux leader Crazy Horse, one of the most charismatic figures of the Battle of Little Bighorn, was known by his own people as "the strange one" or the "Strange Man of the Oglala. " Fascination about him continues to this day. After The Inquirer ran a purported photo of Crazy Horse yesterday as part of its coverage of the 127th anniversary of the battle and the dedication of an Indian memorial, dozens of readers phoned, e-mailed or wrote to question the authenticity of the picture.

Lt. Col. George A. Custer died spectacularly here 127 years ago today, but for decades the colorful officer dominated the way the Battle of the Little Bighorn was retold. Now, the five Indian tribes that took part in that day's fighting are finally getting what they feel is their due: a memorial honoring their role in the battle and recognition of their defense of their homes. The $2.3 million Indian Memorial, the product of an often-contentious, 13-year process, is to be dedicated today as traditionally clothed Indian horsemen ride once more over the battlefield.

In early 1876, Gen. George Custer led an "exploratory" expedition into the Black Hills of South Dakota, and a flood of gold seekers followed. That land, sacred to the Lakota Sioux, had been preserved for the tribe by treaty. In retaliation, the Lakota and other tribes left their reservations and declared war. While trying to put down the insurrection, Gen. Custer happened upon an Indian village in southern Montana on June 25. The overconfident leader ordered his 261 cavalrymen to attack nearly 2,000 Indians, resulting in one of the biggest fiascos in U.S. Army history.