Dear Mr. Malkmus,
Why didn’t you come to the Bowery Ballroom last night? Well, maybe you were there, but you didn’t follow directions. When my shift started, I checked the list for any famous people so I could call Whitney and tell him how his boy was rubbing elbows with the high life. My assignment was to work the list at the 2nd door, and the second name on said list was Mr. Malkmus. All night long I waited in nervous anticipation to check that name off. What can you say something to a man of that stature? My words were plotted carefully, but my excitement would probably cause another Conan O’Brien like voice quake. Yes, I get extremely nervous around those held in personal high regard. Well, I get nervous around that type of people and girls. Yeah, girls make me very nervous. Anyway, Mr. Malkmus, I hope you were there to witness the goodness of Interpol, but damn man, why didn’t you come to the 2nd door. You’re breaking my heat.
Sincerely,
JJJay Belin
Ok, so my week off wasn’t fruitful. Minimal accomplishments were made. I took a couple days off from work to try and kick the shit out of my cold prior to the coming week’s madness. Fortunately my body is rocking at 95%, and by the time The Libertines take the stage Tuesday evening, this kid should be playing with a full deck. So expect more frequent updates in the near future. My slack ass won’t let this blog’s 4 or 5 readers down. If it’s news you are looking for, check out Jason over at Productshop NYC who was recently named best blog by the Village Voice. To be honest, I couldn’t agree more. He consistently covers the late breaking news and keeps the lazier kids (read me) informed on various goods from the (not-so) underground.
Friday was my return to the game. My morning was spent moping behind a pile of work left by my boss who took a mini-vacation. Luckily my student worker was around to carry some of the burden and by the mid-afternoon I was free and clear. After leaving the 9-to-5, I walked up to Webster for a door shift at the Puffy AmiYumi show. Apparently this Japanese pop group was showcasing their tunes for the Cartoon Network crew who is making them into a cartoon. I want to be made into a cartoon, but needless to say it wouldn’t be very exciting, (except for my recent altercations that seem to happen on a nightly basis). Outside of a crazy hour or so, the show went pretty smoothly.
After the gig, I headed home to regroup in hopes of catching the Explosions in the Sky show at the Mercury Lounge. Any band that scores a soundtrack for a football film is an instant must see for me. Problem was, I was beat so it was back to the couch with me. This was quite alright because the Yankee game was on and we were kicking ass. They tripped up a bit at the end of game 3, but it doesn’t matter now because the Yanks are playing for the ALCS. Bring on Boston and all the little twats who root for them. I’m sick of hearing that it’s, “Their Year.” It hasn’t been “Your Year” for nearly a century. Though you are looking strong and some folks at ESPN have picked the BoSox to win, I don’t see it happening because Boston sucks harder than Jenna Jamison at a lollipop convention. Hopefully Mo can put his personal tragedy on hold and kick some BoSox ass.
Back to business. My slumber was interrupted by Kyle and his little brother Scott who is in town for a week. If you know Kyle, try to make an effort to meet his brother. Scott and Kyle are exactly alike. Their speech has the same cadence. They both talk like it’s their job. They have the same sense of humor. They even look alike. It’s a bit on the spooky side, but it’s funny. In fact, Scott and I hung out last night and it was cracking me up. We were watching Blind Date and his assessment of the dumb girl’s flotation devices and the cocky jack’s retarded behavior mirrored Kyle’s normal recap of the show. Are his parents sure they aren’t twins?
Eventually I rallied and walked by the Mercury for a quick tequila shot. I could only stay for a couple Explosions in the Sky tunes, but from what I heard, they weren’t bad. My mission was to meet up with Liz and her friend Christina at Lil’ Frankie’s. Upon entering the establishment, some Long Island cock gobbler tried starting shit with me. Why do tucked in collar shirts always try to pick a fight with me? Is it the lip piercing? Is it your innate need to prove your heterosexuality to your other douchebag friends? Seriously, cut the bullshit. Though I’d never back down from a dickhead in a shitty situation, Jay, by nature, is a lover, not a fighter.
There was 20 minutes of weirdness after this confrontation, but luckily the fuckstick took his queue and left me and the two pretty alone. Liz has fallen off the face of the earth since beginning grad school so I was pretty psyched to catch up. Her friend was a peach as well so we had a good time sharing drinks and musing about how much we missed each other. After an extended farewell, I jetted back to the Mercury Lounge only to find an assembly of the biggest jackasses around. Beach, Macchia, Oveis and Builder were hanging out being drunks as well as Mia, Daylen, Rob and a few other kids. We sat around bullshitting until 3am when an exit was way past due. Good night. Good fight.
Just a little note, I don’t know if this is a permanent thing, but TBS is one of the cable channels we score by plugging into the wall. On Saturday morning (3am), they were showing episodes of Mr. Show. It was unbelievable. There is nothing like staggering home with a nice buzz only to find one of your favorite shows being offered up at no cost to me. God bless you Mr. Turner. You make good TV. Now if you would just drop the Braves, we’d be all set.
Saturday saw a return to complete productivity. Builder and I scored some brunch at The General Store which may have the best BLT ever. D. walked by the restaurant so I ran her down and got her to join us. After brunch we met Hawkins, Christie, Aja and Phil on the street and readied ourselves for a trip to the zoo. My hopes of navigating the trip were shot down when it became obvious that someone would have to saddle up and ride in the hatch of the Subaru. The short trip was unintentionally extended due to poor navigation (I’m not pointing fingers Hawkins and D!), but after a bit of an accident and multiple requests for rolled down windows, we made it to the Bronx.
It was my first trip to the Bronx Zoo, and my main objective was to see (and possibly ride) some giraffes. We started our trek through the wild with some elephants and a seal feeding time that was a hoot. We hit up the Monkey House and Tiger Mountain, but my sites were set on the African Safari. On our way to the Safari, we checked out some Polar Bears who looked pretty dismal. It was like watching that homeless guy, who lives in the boxes on Joey Ramone Place, pace up and down the block. The bears were haggard, injured and looked very unhappy. Oh, it also smelled like poo. The whole experience got me upset. We prattled on past some sort of mountain cat and bear cage before reaching the Safari. We checked out some lions and then made way for the giraffe and ostrich place. I immediately started to hop the fence, but D. deterred my efforts. We watched the beautiful animals graze for a bit before hitting the Reptile House and the House of Darkness. After my various jokes about Fruit Bats (which were uber flat), we called it a day and proceeded to once again get lost.
Christie and I hit up Boca Chica for a sprint shrimp experience. Our entire dining time couldn’t have run longer than a half hour. It’s as if they knew we were on our way and hungry for shrimps. After dinner we hit up 186 to watch the Yankees clinch. Erin came over and by 10pm we were on our way to the Luna Lounge to check out the Karl fronted Stammers.
A nice sized crowd gathered for the show, and we were all pleasantly surprised with The Stammers sound. They have come to sound like a New York band fronted by a man with a voice that recalls the monotone sneer of Jello Biafra. The interplay of Simon and Scott’s guitars was completely on point, and though there was some over playing, it sounded terrific. Naturally, Sascha was the glue that held these boys together. He is such a phenomenal rock drummer. The kid doesn’t allow himself to get too fancy, but without his constant drive and subtle fills The Stammers sound wouldn’t be nearly as developed. Resident Bahamas bassist, Kev Smith has taken over the duties on bass. If you know Kevin, you know he can wail, and wail he did. My only suggestion to The Stammers would be, don’t look so damn bored. Don’t wait till the last couple songs to get excited about your music. It projects a bit of smugness that shouldn’t go along with their brand of rock. It was all around a great show, and I’m looking forward to seeing these guys again.
We rolled up Avenue B after the show with our sites set on B-side. It’s been awhile since I’ve been up to the bar, so I was pleasantly surprised to be greeted by Deva (Will’s puppy) upon our entrance. It is always a pleasure catching up with the old neighbor, who recently stepped away from his slot as bassist in Matt Pond PA. I think it was a good move for Will, and hopefully he will score a place in a band that brings some serious rock, because seriously, he rocks. The night got dragged on a bit longer than expected, but it was cool because I met an awesome girl from Wisconsin. Katie, if you’re out there, drop me an email.
We’ve got a 4-0 Jets team! Yes, that’s right; the NY Jets are undefeated through their first four games. Though they tripped up and nearly lost the game to Buffalo yesterday, we came away with a win, and that’s what’s important. Noah stopped by to check out some of the game before we headed down to the Bowery. Last night Interpol kicked off their tour with a special show at the club. It was a cool offer to the fans that purchased tickets to both shows at Hammerstein. We were expecting a shitshow last night, but things went really smoothly.
By the end of their sixth or seventh song, I was itching to get inside to see one of my favorite modern bands. Thankfully, we closed the second door and I got upstairs in time for Hands Away followed by NYC and the rocking joint from Antics, Slow Hands. Paul Banks’ voice was extremely powerful. It shook the dead crowd. Speaking of which, when did it become customary to not give a shit at shows? First the Black Keys and now Interpol? Do you people have a fucking pulse? The crowd seemed completely bored by the hometown boys. A good crew of kids including, Ryan, Noah, Ry, D., Mia, Daylen, Tumbleweed, Lucy, Jomo and a few others were rocking the back corner, but the rest of the club was unenthused to say the least. Outside of some feverish hand clapping the place seemed dead. What the fuck is the problem? Would it kill you to move a bit? Anyway, they finished their set with PDA which had an extended pause that teased the onlookers.
They sounded fantastic last night, and hopefully they’ll continue to do so for their entire tour. I’m praying an angel descends from the heavens with a ticket to one of the Hammerstein shows. Free shows are my shit.
It was great seeing so many friends at the show last night, and I’m especially excited that Dennis now calls me Belin. Not too many people do that, so my little sister appropriated the name for herself. I’m here to take it back and Dennis is leading the charge.
This week is going to be hectic. Buckle up and prepare for rock.
4 Comments:
yo dude, i thought i saw you at the guest list door but i was so out of it (COLD+NYQUIL+INTERPOL EXCITEMENT= YOU KNOW) i couldn't tell. you going to the ex models show on wednesday?
good to see you're back in the game. i was almost back in the sadle again, but i think i pushed the envelope of drinking a little too hard this weekend and might have reintroduced myself to whatever i was fighting. solid entry. very fun to read. scat
bidi, yes, it twas me. i thought i saw you walk in. i would have hollar'd, but there we were a bit busy at the time. anyway, i hope you enjoyed it, i thought they were great. where is the ex models show on wednesday? i think i'm going to take that night off since i've got the libertines tuesday, then i'm working thurs, fri, saturday night at webster.
scat, you should have taken it easy man. you gotta know the limits. thats why i didn't go big this weekend, and now i'm close to 100%. either way, lay low and prepare for the onslaught later this week. thanks for the kind words.
the ex models show is at northsix. i believe les george leningrad and the roger sisters are also performing. also, the mahjongg/oxford collapse/ben lee (how random is that) show at sin-e on saturday looks ill.
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