Don't get upset with me. Look, I'm sorry; it wasn't supposed to be this way, but thankfully you've taken a liking to Mustachimo and Yaps. The folks who got worked up over that post need to calm down. He is only going to get more offensive and at the end of the day if it makes me laugh, its staying. Let's face it - I'm a big deal. Keeping me happy is key. Ok, maybe not, but don't get so worked up because there is a lot more where that came from. I know this as an unfortunate fact. But enough about them - let's talk about me.

The past weekend was a bit mellow, but on Saturday I participated in a minature Northern version of SXSW. It began at Webster Hall where the Arctic Monkeys played to a packed house of hungry press and blogger. If I'm not mistaken there were some fans in the venue as well. The door was a bit of a shitshow, but thankfully The Spinto Band and the Monkeys were good people so it went smoothly. I managed to sneak upstairs for their encore, but to be honest I don't know the songs. This doesn't mean I don't care. I want to make an effort because any new indie rock band that has Noah shaken his Jew-Fro like that intrigues me. They definitely sounded tight, but if you want a bit more substance on this show check out Yeti's page who has a recap and links.

Speaking of Yeti; after the show Jerry, Ang (can I call you Ang), The Village Indian (who wrote an Arctic Monkeys review for Stereogum) and I hopped a cab down to Rothko for a set by Portland's golden sons - The Joggers. Avid readers of this shit know that I'm a lover of all things Joggers so my excitement boiled over as I cozied up to the bar with my man in white - Nado - and The Crew aka Shananana, Sarock and E-Money. Though the sound was shit in the sense that the mics kept screeching, The Joggers pulled off a solid set. One that was more impressive than their appearance at the Vice Kills Texas party. The band chugs along as a full force wrecking crew, but if you haven't noticed, the big jams on their first record pull more from the Phish side of the tracks. This undoubtedly makes me a bigger fan of the new jams that take an angular approach to the guitar while piling heaps of dirty vocals on top of each other.

I bolted as soon as they finished and made it to the Mercury Lounge in time for a goon hand and a few songs by the Noisettes. I had no idea what to expect since most of the articles I've read posed them as some out-of-control punk band. They were definitely my speed, but all the thrashing by the drummers head just seemed a little too postured, (go figure from a kid who loves Art Brut). After a couple songs Rory, Christen and I stopped into 186 to fill my flask with tequila before heading to Movida, (Queen Goon - do you still have my flask?).

Movida was a fucking head trip. I'd never go there on a regular night, but on Saturday Justice was scheduled to make their U.S. debut at 1am. Unfortunately those types of spaces never run on time. So while we sipped tequila from an empty Corona bottle we fucked around and watched Rory get progressively more awesome. The DJ played a mix of shit and crap, but eventually one of the Frenchmen got behind the decks and blasted some of the hard electro we came to hear. As the night grew in length, it seemed apparant that if I stuck around I might end up defending someone in a fight, (we already saw some dude whose face was covered in blood get thrown out). I gathered myself and headed home. Now don't get me wrong, I can't wait to see Justice at a real gig even though I don't know what that would mean for these guys. Maybe I should have got off my ass to see them at Asterisk on Sunday, but that seemed like a stretch especially since my couch has felt neglected. Now if only I could get one of those folks at Vice to send me a recocd.... PLEASE!

Sunday was a lazy day that ended with a few folks coming over for the HBO shows, and Monday was a bust outside of Builder treating me like a lady, but I managed to sneak some fun into last night. We had The Magic Numbers at Webster, (I shit you not - George Whipple was interviewing them when I got there - this is only important to four people, but yeah, it was hilarious. I gave him the Whipple on his way out). Anyway, the band was great. I managed to sneak upstairs in time to hear "Love Me Like You" which is easily my favorite jam. As they came back for an encore I bounced around the balcony with Christy, Liz, Matthew, Molly, Julia and some other folks. They played three more songs including a really delicate number during which my walkie talkie went off and I looked like an ass! After the show I ran into Christy and Julia outside. They were putting together a reaction piece for Spin.com so go check it out later today. Christy and I took a cab down to the Mercury Lounge for a quick drink. We ran into Eugene who got straight Voided by Christy, but he didn't seem to mind. All around, it was the best Tuesday I've had where I put in a solid 14 hours of work.

Moral of this story is that you shouldn't give up on me. I'm still out there seeing as much rock as possible even if I don't have any balls.