A video made by the roommate of the shop employee at Infinity in Saint Louis who sold me the video and identified a spot I drew’s location in Kansas City.
Joe Koplowitz, a Saint Louis native, has said that the best plots involve losers turned winners. At the 11:50 mark of iphun there is an unexpected micronarrative, when, in the course of a bluntstall attempt on a bank to wall, the back wheels fail to lock above the wall. The skater loses contact with his board. Initially he looks destined to fall to his head, then appears he may recover only to land credit card, or avoid that and twist an ankle, then shoot out and smack his head. Instead, his feet somehow land on the board and he rolls away, tic tacking to fakie. This flirtation with disaster brings to mind Lincoln Uyeda’s faux-loss of control ender in 7 Year Glitch. The footage is a reminder of the occasional miraculousness that skateboarding begets, the singular event that stands out in one’s mind among a lifetime of 10% success at backside tailslides.
The video begins with scrolling words in the Star Wars manner, that tell how little of a shit the creator gives about our opinions. The words scroll by very fast, at once a speed literacy test and disregard of text. Theattemptatreadingwithoutapausebuttonisfurthercomplicatedbyadesiretolistentotheclassysongofinvitationintothisvideomade “fer der hermez by der hermez.”
One of the homies is named Chill Von Penguin, there will be blood, and the dudes skate a concrete plaza spot with block sets and ledges. Someone rolls smokes while driving, another gives a quality attempt at a front-shove it, unhappy authority figureheads spew their language to unappreciative ears, and remarkably, a boy performs a beer can renegade to lit cigarette swallow that inspires devotion from those present. Hardware store parking lots at night can be a reliable spot.
There is a even mixture of street skating, an extensive DIY spot under a freeway that probably has a daily scene, and park skating of both the concrete and prefabricated genres, mostly done by boys, though an older longhair shines with a nollie back heel on a natural bank. The soundtrack is an unremarkable punk rock for a while, though one can imagine how fans memorize the mantras yelled over fast chords. Someone made the six hour drive to stick an ollie down the biggest stair set at Dyrdek’s Kettering Plaza.
The editing includes some still party shots, then a sequence ends with freestyle rapping from a white boy wearing a bicycle helmet and elbow pads. One of the present commentators claims his performance to be a million dollar freestyle that we receive at discount rate. Along with consistent skating, iphun has provided a trio of unique thrills and shone some light on the relationships formed between young males brought together by the magnet of skateboarding.
We see a boy growing stomach hair, more raps from the helmet boy while his brothers contribute beatboxing and OJ da Juiceman ad-libs. One boy with long jean shorts and tattoos does a good line through a concrete park that ends with a blunt shove transfer over a spine. A boy in a bedroom inhales redi-whips then tries his hand at freestyling. A skater wearing flip-flops tre flips in a garage, some do boardsports at a backyard pool party with pizza delivery in the middle while Juvenile raps then the vomit spews to feel better after it happens with the offensive substance expelled.
The boy in the Hawaiian shirt leads a competent session at an abandoned toilet that may have shit inside it. Interactions with the detached bathroom piece bring to mind Duchamps urinal and methods of appropriation. Someone does a varial heel the hard way over a hip. One narrative test depicts the patient, frustrated, persistent process of landing a crooked grind on the table level of a picnic bench along with the friendship and shit talking that occurs in the process. A taquito party is proposed, then we know success is destined with the opening chords of Morrissey’s song from Roctakon’s t-shirt in his gold dunk days and Josh Orr’s You are the Quarry double feature part in The Other Side of Things, “Irish Blood, English Heart.”
We watch a birthday session at a roller rink with white walls and floor that bring to mind the gallery space. A skater wears the outfit black half cabs, olive pants and navy shirt. The video ends on a strong note some big tricks, homie tats, skating on spots with no concrete and girls shotgunning beers. Infinity shop may be one of the few skateshops in existence without a Nike account and the lack of swoosh trickles down to the skate footage. The video presentation of a large healthy scene with no one having a part or anything reminds me of the Hollywood video with the long name in the checkered case. There’s a half pipe snake run that the Axe Throwers may come to session next summer. Our boys session a fullpipe and clean a bong. The after credits song by the Felice Brothers features the haunting line “He seems to know something I don’t know about my lover’s whereabouts.” There are plenty of Bonus Features if you’re in the mood to get your money’s worth.
For further interaction call Infinity at 314 843 1989. They’ve been around since 1999 so can probably figure out how to take your 5 dollars over the phone. Alternately, you can be the first person to send me 10 dollars and I’ll send you my copy with a signed copy of this review.