Is David Cross Stalking Me?
Please Note: If you got the O.C. PotLuck email, please reply. You fuckers know who you are. Thanks to those who did. I'm getting hungry.
As my toes continue to thaw, I'm finding it rather difficult to recall last night. Its not that I was too drunk or too high. Its due to the fact that its bone cold out right now, and my dumbass decided to walk to work. There are other options. The bus. The train. A Cab. All three were at my dispossal, and what do if do? I fucking walk. Call me Iggy Pop cause I'm an Idiot.
Before I dive into the show, let me say something about pissed off hipsters. These kids are just plain dumb. Yes, I realize its a lame term, and I try to use it as little as possible. Yes, some people could call me one with good reason. Yes, I could give a shit about any of it. But as I stood outside of Pianos last night waiting for the Cali kids to cruise onto a L.E.S. bar of choice, some douche bag came out of the club just plain bitching. This guys was dressed the same as every kid in the club. Dirty jeans, blocky glasses, a hip jacket and a carefully placed scarf protected this boy from the elements while keeping him leaning into the early majority. His tirade consisted of damning all the hipsters inside who dress the same and don't give a shit about the music. He continued to complain while walking away. I watched this marginalized cool kid walk into Max Fish. Would someone find this kid, kick him in the balls and then pee on his jacket? I mean really. If you are going to dress the part, goto the underground shows and still have the gall to whine about his fellow comrades with such high school cafeteria passion. Check yourself dude. You're not fooling anyone.
In any event, the evening started with a pop-in from the ever present Hawkins. Eventually Builder and Gabe got home and the three of them engaged in a conversation about business, (LLC's is the only term that stuck). This lead me to the realization that I don't have a discernible talent. Every conversation I participate in slowly morphs into a long winded, opinion laden diatribe, but there is nothing I can do to fix it. In any event, Liz cruised by and assured me that none of us have discernible talents. A sigh of relief calmed me as I realized there is a lot of truth to that. She is quite good at putting me in my place. For some reason that girl knows exactly how to shut me up. God bless her for it. Hawkins, Liz and I hit the streets and met up with her friend Michael. When arriving at Pianos, our biggest fear became reality. We had to wait outside for a good 15 minutes. It wasn't bad though. I met this kid Omar and his lady friend who were in from Miami. Omar told me we had met previously in a bar and talked some music shop. He kept telling me that Flavorpill is where its at, and that we need to expand to Miami because there is a budding indie scene. I'll have to look into that one. Then the Shins walked up. I thanked Marty for giving NYC another night to check them out and told James they played a killer show on Sunday. Then, almost naturally, Marty and I talked about pot for a brief moment. It was bliss.
Pianos was so over packed. It was rediculous. We picked up a Bud and moved to the back room where a wait ensued. Adam came buy and we talked weekend. He is having a party at HiFi which should be in everyone's date book. It will be a stellar post Shins birthday bash. The room continued to grow tighter when I found myself in the back next to the Unicorns as they suited up for their gig. They eventually headed to the stage and took their places in front of the waiting critical mass. They opened up with Tuff Ghost which is one of my favorite songs on the record. Their on stage razzing was similar to their Merc show last month. They talked about no dancing laws, no dancing kids, sex without con-doms and Canada. It was all quite funny, but it was a joke I've already heard. We stuck around for a few more songs and then Hawkins and I rolled out during I Was Born. It wasn't that they played a bad set. I just didn't feel like sticking around and getting pushed.
Then we waited outside with Molly, John and Phoebe for Ms. Lane. She took to long to get out of the bar, so I just headed home. It was too cold and I was too tired. Phoebe did tell me she has joined the ranks of the blogging community, (send me your link!!). I also ran into Jonathan from D.C. who is now living in Bklyn and writing for Mass Appeal. That kid is top of the pops. He also wants to know when Whitney will be joining us in Manhattan.
So thats it. I'll do the news later. I'm sorry for the stilted writing. Sometimes I can't help it.
Please Note: If you got the O.C. PotLuck email, please reply. You fuckers know who you are. Thanks to those who did. I'm getting hungry.
As my toes continue to thaw, I'm finding it rather difficult to recall last night. Its not that I was too drunk or too high. Its due to the fact that its bone cold out right now, and my dumbass decided to walk to work. There are other options. The bus. The train. A Cab. All three were at my dispossal, and what do if do? I fucking walk. Call me Iggy Pop cause I'm an Idiot.
Before I dive into the show, let me say something about pissed off hipsters. These kids are just plain dumb. Yes, I realize its a lame term, and I try to use it as little as possible. Yes, some people could call me one with good reason. Yes, I could give a shit about any of it. But as I stood outside of Pianos last night waiting for the Cali kids to cruise onto a L.E.S. bar of choice, some douche bag came out of the club just plain bitching. This guys was dressed the same as every kid in the club. Dirty jeans, blocky glasses, a hip jacket and a carefully placed scarf protected this boy from the elements while keeping him leaning into the early majority. His tirade consisted of damning all the hipsters inside who dress the same and don't give a shit about the music. He continued to complain while walking away. I watched this marginalized cool kid walk into Max Fish. Would someone find this kid, kick him in the balls and then pee on his jacket? I mean really. If you are going to dress the part, goto the underground shows and still have the gall to whine about his fellow comrades with such high school cafeteria passion. Check yourself dude. You're not fooling anyone.
In any event, the evening started with a pop-in from the ever present Hawkins. Eventually Builder and Gabe got home and the three of them engaged in a conversation about business, (LLC's is the only term that stuck). This lead me to the realization that I don't have a discernible talent. Every conversation I participate in slowly morphs into a long winded, opinion laden diatribe, but there is nothing I can do to fix it. In any event, Liz cruised by and assured me that none of us have discernible talents. A sigh of relief calmed me as I realized there is a lot of truth to that. She is quite good at putting me in my place. For some reason that girl knows exactly how to shut me up. God bless her for it. Hawkins, Liz and I hit the streets and met up with her friend Michael. When arriving at Pianos, our biggest fear became reality. We had to wait outside for a good 15 minutes. It wasn't bad though. I met this kid Omar and his lady friend who were in from Miami. Omar told me we had met previously in a bar and talked some music shop. He kept telling me that Flavorpill is where its at, and that we need to expand to Miami because there is a budding indie scene. I'll have to look into that one. Then the Shins walked up. I thanked Marty for giving NYC another night to check them out and told James they played a killer show on Sunday. Then, almost naturally, Marty and I talked about pot for a brief moment. It was bliss.
Pianos was so over packed. It was rediculous. We picked up a Bud and moved to the back room where a wait ensued. Adam came buy and we talked weekend. He is having a party at HiFi which should be in everyone's date book. It will be a stellar post Shins birthday bash. The room continued to grow tighter when I found myself in the back next to the Unicorns as they suited up for their gig. They eventually headed to the stage and took their places in front of the waiting critical mass. They opened up with Tuff Ghost which is one of my favorite songs on the record. Their on stage razzing was similar to their Merc show last month. They talked about no dancing laws, no dancing kids, sex without con-doms and Canada. It was all quite funny, but it was a joke I've already heard. We stuck around for a few more songs and then Hawkins and I rolled out during I Was Born. It wasn't that they played a bad set. I just didn't feel like sticking around and getting pushed.
Then we waited outside with Molly, John and Phoebe for Ms. Lane. She took to long to get out of the bar, so I just headed home. It was too cold and I was too tired. Phoebe did tell me she has joined the ranks of the blogging community, (send me your link!!). I also ran into Jonathan from D.C. who is now living in Bklyn and writing for Mass Appeal. That kid is top of the pops. He also wants to know when Whitney will be joining us in Manhattan.
So thats it. I'll do the news later. I'm sorry for the stilted writing. Sometimes I can't help it.
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