Where is the Snow?
All this talk about getting hammered by the white stuff is becoming a pain in the ass. Everyone in the office feels compelled to mention it, including myself, and yet it hasn't even started. At least it isn't as cold today as it has been. I could give a shit about what the weather does, as long as it doesn't prevent a certain caravan from gallivanting down to Lancaster.
Busy Monday Evening.
Following some late afternoon meetings I skipped down to 186 to meet with Louis who showed up in his work digs. Seeing Lou in a shirt in tie nearly had me in stitches. He reminded me of Jack Lemmon's character C.C. Baxter from Billy Wilder's classic The Apartment. As of now, I'm fairly certain that Lou doesn't rent out his apartment to the management for their love affairs, but, like I said, he just started. Give the kid some time.
Hawkins (aka: my new supervisor, its true) and Mike showed up to play some spades while the afternoon slowly drifted into the evening. If you ever get the chance to play spades with Lou, do it. Its a fucking riot. That kid is a top notch champ.
Around 8:30 I popped into the Mercury to see what The Occasion were all about. At first glance it looked as though someone put a beard on Noah and placed him as the lead. Their bass player is also a spitting image of Brett who plays bass for the Head Set. From what I can remember, they were worth a damn. Fairly jangly pop with a real Creedence edge to it. They were also prone to the "Occasional" freak out, (I don't know if that was supposed to be a joke, and if it was, it was bad. I'm sorry, amatuers shouldn't have the rights to use computers). All and all a solid band with some serious promise, just make sure you don't stick around for some grand finale because their set just ends with a lot of noise as each insturment blends into a mess of feedback and vocal effects.
Between sets Beach, Daylen, Colin and I headed to the bar for a quick warm up. We ran into Pheobe who was quite excited to see Vietnam. She has developed quite the musical crush on these three boys who (as far as I know) have yet to press anything or throw up a web site. Despite the lack of information on this band (minus the crooning Vice has been doing) Pheobe, along with the steadily filling back room, was excited to check out their chops. I caught the eye of Megan as she passed by the bar and exchanged a quick hello before heading into the front room with a vodka tonic and high expectations in tow.
The Vietnam were impressive. Extremely groovy psych rock that takes a page from early folk acts minus all the hippie bullshit baggage that may come along with it. They write clever songs that keep your feet tapping. Aesthetically they have been ripped from the pages of the aforementioned publication, but thats Ok because they back it with rhythms coupled with strategically placed Sonic Youth mash up. Their songs take you on an aural roller coaster ride with patient building and big payoffs.
More drinks, more conversation, more good people. All three were had before the irreverent dissorder that characterizes the Brain Jonestown Massacre took the stage. They missed their sound check so the change over took quite a bit of time. No worries though, I was enamored with the conversation Pheobe and I had regarding the possibility of working together. She also informed this first time BJM viewer, that these guys have been in the business for well over a decade. They are an extremely animated band who loves the stage banter. The one thing I really didn't get was the lead singers persistant fake British accent and his unwillingness to face the crowd. The music was solid, but not to memorable. Beach and I made several runs to the bar so things got progressively blurry. We ended the evening with a shot for a birthday girl whose name escapes me now, but she is having a Thursday party at HiFi. So happy birthday you.
A well rounded Monday will hopefully set the tone for the rest of the week which will be capped with the MMJ show on Friday. Bolt down the furniture Lancaster, the NYC crew is gonna fuck you up.
But I don't want to do the News.
Richard Hell donates some work to NYU. Hopefully it isn't more sketches of his own penis. Punk Rock academics... is that me? Gawd I hope so.
NME announces the nominations for this years award show. The White Stripes and Radiohead seem to be cleaning up in the nomie department.
The Strokes are planning a North American invasion this Spring. I hope they do a fortnight stand at the Bowery.
More evidence that the Brits are better rockers than us. I've gotta move. No question.
Runner and the Thermodynamics get the Artist Spotlight at CMJ. These guys are gonna get huge, so catch them while you can still see them in the L.E.S.
The Notwist's new (or recycled) Ep doesn't get top marks from our friends at Pitchfork.
White Stripes get prepared to drop another single from their last record. This one will be vinyl only. This is a trend that I can't keep up with. I don't have a record player, and yet I bought the LCD Soundsystem 12" last night.
Justin Hawkins talks about having his balls on another dudes shoulders. Class act.
Executives beware! No one is safe.
Everyone have a great day.
All this talk about getting hammered by the white stuff is becoming a pain in the ass. Everyone in the office feels compelled to mention it, including myself, and yet it hasn't even started. At least it isn't as cold today as it has been. I could give a shit about what the weather does, as long as it doesn't prevent a certain caravan from gallivanting down to Lancaster.
Busy Monday Evening.
Following some late afternoon meetings I skipped down to 186 to meet with Louis who showed up in his work digs. Seeing Lou in a shirt in tie nearly had me in stitches. He reminded me of Jack Lemmon's character C.C. Baxter from Billy Wilder's classic The Apartment. As of now, I'm fairly certain that Lou doesn't rent out his apartment to the management for their love affairs, but, like I said, he just started. Give the kid some time.
Hawkins (aka: my new supervisor, its true) and Mike showed up to play some spades while the afternoon slowly drifted into the evening. If you ever get the chance to play spades with Lou, do it. Its a fucking riot. That kid is a top notch champ.
Around 8:30 I popped into the Mercury to see what The Occasion were all about. At first glance it looked as though someone put a beard on Noah and placed him as the lead. Their bass player is also a spitting image of Brett who plays bass for the Head Set. From what I can remember, they were worth a damn. Fairly jangly pop with a real Creedence edge to it. They were also prone to the "Occasional" freak out, (I don't know if that was supposed to be a joke, and if it was, it was bad. I'm sorry, amatuers shouldn't have the rights to use computers). All and all a solid band with some serious promise, just make sure you don't stick around for some grand finale because their set just ends with a lot of noise as each insturment blends into a mess of feedback and vocal effects.
Between sets Beach, Daylen, Colin and I headed to the bar for a quick warm up. We ran into Pheobe who was quite excited to see Vietnam. She has developed quite the musical crush on these three boys who (as far as I know) have yet to press anything or throw up a web site. Despite the lack of information on this band (minus the crooning Vice has been doing) Pheobe, along with the steadily filling back room, was excited to check out their chops. I caught the eye of Megan as she passed by the bar and exchanged a quick hello before heading into the front room with a vodka tonic and high expectations in tow.
The Vietnam were impressive. Extremely groovy psych rock that takes a page from early folk acts minus all the hippie bullshit baggage that may come along with it. They write clever songs that keep your feet tapping. Aesthetically they have been ripped from the pages of the aforementioned publication, but thats Ok because they back it with rhythms coupled with strategically placed Sonic Youth mash up. Their songs take you on an aural roller coaster ride with patient building and big payoffs.
More drinks, more conversation, more good people. All three were had before the irreverent dissorder that characterizes the Brain Jonestown Massacre took the stage. They missed their sound check so the change over took quite a bit of time. No worries though, I was enamored with the conversation Pheobe and I had regarding the possibility of working together. She also informed this first time BJM viewer, that these guys have been in the business for well over a decade. They are an extremely animated band who loves the stage banter. The one thing I really didn't get was the lead singers persistant fake British accent and his unwillingness to face the crowd. The music was solid, but not to memorable. Beach and I made several runs to the bar so things got progressively blurry. We ended the evening with a shot for a birthday girl whose name escapes me now, but she is having a Thursday party at HiFi. So happy birthday you.
A well rounded Monday will hopefully set the tone for the rest of the week which will be capped with the MMJ show on Friday. Bolt down the furniture Lancaster, the NYC crew is gonna fuck you up.
But I don't want to do the News.
Richard Hell donates some work to NYU. Hopefully it isn't more sketches of his own penis. Punk Rock academics... is that me? Gawd I hope so.
NME announces the nominations for this years award show. The White Stripes and Radiohead seem to be cleaning up in the nomie department.
The Strokes are planning a North American invasion this Spring. I hope they do a fortnight stand at the Bowery.
More evidence that the Brits are better rockers than us. I've gotta move. No question.
Runner and the Thermodynamics get the Artist Spotlight at CMJ. These guys are gonna get huge, so catch them while you can still see them in the L.E.S.
The Notwist's new (or recycled) Ep doesn't get top marks from our friends at Pitchfork.
White Stripes get prepared to drop another single from their last record. This one will be vinyl only. This is a trend that I can't keep up with. I don't have a record player, and yet I bought the LCD Soundsystem 12" last night.
Justin Hawkins talks about having his balls on another dudes shoulders. Class act.
Executives beware! No one is safe.
Everyone have a great day.
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