 |
 |
 |
| |
 |
|
 |
| |
|
|
 |
|
|
| |
I Was Dressed For Suc… cess.
How many of you are in my position? You recently finished up college and are now on your way to shaping the rest of your life, but there is a problem; the jobs you want pay shit and the jobs you shy away from pay well. That’s not the only problem. If you are looking for employment within the music industry and you didn’t have the time or free labor to offer as an intern (read: slaver or whore) during your undergraduate career, then you are up a creek without the paddle. I’ve interned. I’ve worked full-time. I’ve written. I’ve promoted. I’ve edited. I’ve studied. I’ve slaved. And you can bet your ass I whored. What do I have to show for it? A position in administration within an industry that doesn’t peak my interest. Those are the breaks, but as I continue to interview and search for a new job that would treat me the same way that this Union position takes care of me, I have become increasingly aware of the pains held within the realm our parents so callously called, “The Real World.” In my effort to branch out, I’m considering the path of Huggy Bear or various other pimps and pushers.
No thanks. Aviators and a cowboy hat don't suit me.
Hmmm, I'll pass because guns scare the shit out of me.
Ahhhh... Yes, we have a winner.
So this is my formal call to all of you who work in offices, on street corners, in clubs or out on the west coast. If you or your employer are shopping, shopping for blood, than I’m your man. I’ll apply for anything and throw my heart and soul into it because work is the only thing I’ve ever been good at. So help a brother out or keep me hanging, either way, I’ll probably see you at the Mercury Lounge.
Senorita, Take Me To The Drug Store.
In the words of Goldilocks; Monday night was “just right.” The evening started with Dan picking me up in his Nissan that has 190,000 miles on it. This spawned some ideas of driving the car until it dies. We would then take a bus back to New York. We also thought of planning our own deaths in order to avoid our loan payments. You’ll all have to keep this secret, but if you hear about a couple of kids plummeting to their deaths out in Cali’s Big Sur, don’t fret, we’ve probably holed up somewhere in New Mexico and live off of bartender wages.
Then we met up with Mandel, Matt, Builder and Gabe for some basketball down at the Rivington courts. My game has got to be tip-top by tomorrow because some guys from work are playing the intramural co-ed team from Columbia. We will probably get our asses kicked, but it will be fun anyway. We plan to play this evening so if you like to fuck about and get a triple-double than stop by.
Chernin, Dave and Christina met up with us and we walked over to the Mercury to see Gerling’s last east coast show before heading out west. Karen, Hawkins, Dave, Ryan, Julia Z and a few others joined us for the Aussie’s super fun electro set. Gerling does turn it up to 11, but the easily accessible dance grooves make their set an undeniable party. Their opening song is also the first track from their 3rd record titled, Bad Blood which has recently gained domestic distribution through Fenway Records. Though I’m not psyched on the label name, I’m happy to see Gerling break through in the states. Fuck the Brooklyn electro scene with their blocky sunglasses, fanny packs and uni-tards, Gerling is the real thing and next time they stop in your town, give them a shot. You will have fun. You remember what fun is don’t you?
Their set was the same as Saturday which means they played the song with the chorus, “Senorita, take me to the drug store.” They also played Who’s Your Daddy? which is another move your feet sing-a-long. Before they played my favorite song, In the City Darren gave a shout out to “Josh, Eric and Jay.” I think he meant Kyle, but that’s cool because Kyle had trouble remembering their names. Burke said, “Thanks to our friends who have put us up,” and Darren added “And let us secretly use their towels.” That scared me for a minute, but then I remembered how bad they smelled so I figured they couldn’t have showered. Presser (who’s real name is Paul) concluded, “We also used your toothbrushes, but not to brush our teeth.” This whole dialogue had Builder and I cracking up in that nervous manner where you aren’t sure if they are joking. They blasted through their Strokes-esq tune and finished with their epic buildup / breakdown track that features screams and song from Presser who remains behind the kit.
During changeover I ran into Dennis (Go see Dennis’s band at Sin-e July 14) and Audrey who were there to check out their good friends in Surefire, but next on the bill was Jo’s own The Pleased. If you haven’t read the interview I recently conducted with Noah, who is the front man for this arty west coast pop band, then check it. Their set included some of my favorites, but my attention had been lacking after the Gerling performance. My mind was racing. I was trying to figure out a way to catch up with the Aussies while they are touring. If anyone wants to ride with me to Nashville on the weekend of the 18th, let me know.
I stuck around for a few songs by the NYC four-piece who call themselves Surefire. These young lads have it all together and play a very tight set of melodic pop with lyrics about, you guessed it, girls! Who can blame them? When I was merely 18 all my thoughts were consumed by finding love, getting laid and having a good time. At 23 things aren’t that different, but the window to reminisce has grown smaller and I appreciate a band who pushes it wide open if only for a 40 minute set. I ducked out midway through their set and caught myself some solid sleep.
Tuesday’s Gone With The Wind.
What happened yesterday? Oh yeah, nothing. Wait, wait, wait. It’s all coming back to me. It involved a ton of Poppa John’s, a few friends, 186’s living room and a 11-3 Yankees drubbing of the Red Sox. Yesterday was a good day.
Ch-Ch-Check It Out.
Yeah, so the show list has been updated. A full-length update is on it's way, but right now that's all I can muster. Work's heavy period will be over today and regular blogging can resume. If your band has a show coming up, and you don't suck to hard, drop me an email to get listed.
People Are Strange.
The weekend came in like a lamb and out like a lion, but before I get to the weekly debauchery there is something that must be addressed. During a weekend barbeque a friend of mine, who will remain anonymous, told us tales of a unique subculture that exists at Yale University and revolves around the notion of hanging in the buff. The stories were absurd and like something I’ve never heard, but they are nonfiction so all mothers and fathers, who believe their kids abstain from crazy behavior while attending these Ivy League institutions, are dead wrong.
Let’s start by dispelling the preconceived notion that Ivy Leaguers are typically uptight or sexually repressed. The myth was wiped from the history books when I was told about the “naked” parties that frequent the campus. These parties aren’t like the Sarah Lawrence “Coming Out” parties or Opaline “Panty” parties. This is the real deal. We are talking about a bunch of kids hanging around butt naked and getting drunk. When asked whether or not the parties turned into wild orgies, I was told, “Not really. It isn’t very sexual.” Not very sexual? What the fuck could be more sexual than getting drunk in a room full of naked coeds? I can’t imagine going to a naked party and not getting laid. Is it just me? Anyway, when asked what was the common protocol when a male attendee gets excited my Bulldog informant said, “Oh, yeah, that happens, and it’s quite embarrassing. People try to ignore it.” How could you restrain yourself from getting excited? You could pine over a girl for three years and then show up at this party and receive the visual you’ve so desperately been yearning for. It’s a dirty thought, but the truth hurts. You are also drinking which means you’re probably hornier than usual and being thrown into a room with a bunch of hot naked ladies (or dudes if that’s your preference). Anyway, this phenomenon may not surprise you, but it had me dreaming of Yale acceptance for grad school.
You Don't Have To Go Home.
But please get the fuck out of my house. That’s how I was feeling this Friday. After a long week and a late Thursday night all I could think about was sleep. Early plans to see an AM showing of the new Michael Moore film were bailed on once I found someone to take my ticket. Luckily my friend Valium showed up so Dee, Kyle and I sat around getting silly before passing out.
Transformed By The Norm.
Summer time is kick ass. Despite my loathing of the beach since my run in with a colony of jellyfish as a young teenager, I still love the summer time. Why? One word: barbeque. Saturday morning Builder and I took a walk around Chinatown before we met up with Beach and headed to his backyard. We stopped by Key Foods to pick up some grub before making our way to 7th Street. Oveis showed up and we spent the afternoon eating burgers, sausages, shrimp and various other bbq favorites while the Yankees got beat up by the Mets.
After returning home and catching some much needed z’s, Cami showed up and got the door spinning at 186. In the matter of a couple hours Dan, Kyle, Erin, Karen, Lou and some other kids made a stop at the pad before we stopped into Rothko to catch Gerling’s 1am set. Rothko is a loud as hell club and it suited the big sound of these Sydney boys. Each one of them contributes something unique to the live show. Pressa holds down the beats and the four-track from behind the kit. He is the least animated of the group. In fact Pressa didn’t look up from his kit until he threw his headphones down before singing the last song. Darren keeps things in order as the lead singer and guitarist. His stage banter was hilarious. He even called out some chump who had hair that could only be described as a happy marriage between Tesh and Fabio. Burke is the Wildman of the group. He plays bass and dances around like a possessed zombie. His giant stare and cryptic grin made me scared, but it’s all fun and games so don’t be afraid.
After the show, Hawkins and I headed back to 186 where we ran into Kyle, Dee and Karen. We threw back a quick cocktail before shooting over to The Hole for some fun and games. Karen and I had trouble finding the band, but we eventually met up with the kids in the rear of the shitty establishment. We also ran into Eric which was humorous because neither of us expected the other to be at The Hole. Eventually a crew of 10 or so rolled back to 186 to party until the sun came up.
Stop Breathing.
With a heaping hangover in tow, Builder and I made our way to Beach’s to have a quick session prior to hopping on the 4 Train and heading to Yankee Stadium. Beach managed to score three tickets to the early game which turned out to be a Yankees slug fest. The Bronx Bombers hit four homers in total with two by Jeter and a Grand Slam by Godzilla. My body was rejecting all attempts to get drunk until we returned to the neighbor to indulge in some serious eats. Our first stop was Half Price Sushi on 2nd Ave and 7th Street where Builder and I both took down a Sushi Deluxe. Then it was onto Mary Ann’s where we met up with Josh and Mike for Margaritas and Tequila shots in honor of our dear Matsui. By 9pm I was in bed watching shitty Russel Crow movies while trying to work on my Aussie accent.
Kapricious Kiwis.
Saturday night gave me my first chance at seeing the Aussie boys live on stage. We took the two block walk to Rothko to catch a 1am set by some good buddies who call themselves Gerling. If you weren't one of the lucky ones to witness this band that fuses Williamsburg electro with SoCal sleaze and a little NYC rock, then you have one more chance before they pack the van and drive to Seattle. Tonight Burke, Darren and Pressa take the Mercury Lounge by storm. They hit at 8:30pm, but you might want to get there early for The Shore. Then make sure to stick around because The Pleased are back from San Francisco and they are ready to blast their psych tinged rock show all over this fair city. The icing on the cake is Surefire whose parents have allowed these young kids to stay out past curfew in order to deliver their well crafted pop songs. This could be the best eight bucks you spend this week.
Baptist Blacktick.
I'm just waiting waiting for the baptist
that sad suck-off left me in Damascus
I'm Just waiting waiting for the baptist
that sad suck-off, that shit left me now
I'm just wasting, wasting all the black ticks Queens way's rockers,
enough to make your ears twitch
I'm wasting, wasting all the Black chicks (tits?)
Some reddish sins, some grey - is it now ???
I'm just waiting, waiting for a black jet
That fucker...Ahhhhhhh...
That fucker left me now
that suck left me now
that sun left me now.
Why? Because this song rocks harder than Iggy Pop on a pile of pills.
Cause I Am Progressively Lazy.
Thursday’s are always so great. It is definitely my favorite evening of the week. There is the prospect of a big weekend on the horizon, the consistent disregard for Friday’s work hours and a twinkle in everyone’s eye because they know its only getting better from then until Sunday. This Thursday was no exception to the rule.
I Have Been Dying To Tell You.
Yesterday evening I spent some time listening to Wilco’s fifth full-length record A Ghost is Born. Wait a second? I’m listening to Wilco now? Noah’s taste is thankfully rubbing off on me. It’s my second Wilco record purchase and I guess you could call me new school, but this recently converted Wilco fan recommends this hook laden 12-track long player. Despite Jeff Tweedy’s recent battle with addiction, Wilco is back on the road supporting this album that is grower and not a shower.
 My first listen lacked the concentration required to realize the beauty of this record. By the fourth listen the album solidified its place in the Wilco legacy. The shaky vocalization is pulled off with extreme ease because Tweedy’s indie cred could never be unraveled. He sounds distant at times, but his warmth and sincerity shines through. There wide spectrum of guitar styles allows me to bob my head on one track while contemplating the darker string conflicts found on other tracks that stare over the edge of psychedelica, but refrain from taking the plunge. In any event, buy this record because your children will thank you for it 20 years down the line.
Mother Fucker God Damn.
Hopefully some of you made it down to the Luna Lounge last night for the rock show. Sam Champion and These Bones delivered their ever tightening sets with the style (SC) and sass (TB) of well oiled veterans.
After greeting many familiar faces, I made my way to the back room where I found a great perch in the back corner. It has been quite awhile since I’ve managed to make it to a Sam Champion show sans a healthy buzz so I wanted to take last night’s opportunity to score an objective look at Sam Champion. After a few songs that almost seemed like pace laps, the band played Company Dance which is a crowd pleaser. From that point on, Noah, Jack and Ryan brought their trademark sound to the table and those in attendance politely ate their heaping portions of country twinged indie rock. Yes, they listen to a lot of Pavement. Yes, they idolize Neil Young. Yes, they love to sit at barbeques and drink Budweiser. These are elements to the blended Sam Champion cocktail that make us smile while quenching our thirst for well crafted pop.
The grand finally of the evening was a set of punch-you-in-the-face rock brought to you by These Bones. What can I say about this band that I haven’t said before? Since I’ve already stated that they play big rock and are poised to break in where shittier rock acts like Jet and the Vines have faded to the backdrop, I’m going to convey my feelings on their set through a story from my childhood.
Our home in central Pennsylvania is one big cube on a fairly large lot of property. Back in the latter years of grade school my friends and I used to play this game where we would open one window on the second floor of each side of the house. Obviously this game could only be played while my parents were off doing whatever adults do. Why is that obvious? Well, the object of the game was to get three of your Nerf balls into three different windows. The catch was that there were two snipers in the windows who were armed with pump action b.b. guns. You had to maneuver through the yard, which had sparse cover, while avoiding the rain of fire coming down on you. This is much like the assault of These Bones. We are all just running around trying to get in the house, but These Bones have it occupied. Their deadeye rock makes me realize they own the stage and we should all be happy that we have any balls at all.
My apologies to Five O’clock Heroes for missing their set because I heard they were pretty solid and that Beach convinced one of them that Noah was a professional figure skater who was planning to head out on a touring circuit for the summer.
We headed down to Odea for more on-the-arm drinks provided by the great people of Candis Communications. The new hotspot was already swarming with hoards of drink hungry socialites, but Sunny was kind enough to give us the nod and admit our friends. Though this style of bar is typically left to the upscale clientele, we had a firm grasp on most of the joint yesterday evening. Hawkins played the gracious host, but by 1am the place was getting a bit rowdy and Sunny had to cut off the entrance because things got a bit out of hand. Whoever has the audacity to tag a bathroom in a classy establishment like that should have that marker shoved up their ass. It’s a chic joint. Can’t you show a smidgen of sophistication?
Beach and I busted out of there and made our way to the Delancey who was hosting a myriad of after parties. We were trying to catch The Evening’s set, but by 2am they hadn’t started and this 9-to-fiver had to make a b-line to his pillow top.
What Else Can I Write?
The layoff is over. It’s time to start updating again because I know so many of you are interested in what I have to say, (especially the guy who anomously posted a comment calling me an asshole). Those types of comments are extremely incouraging so I’d like to thank the tactless fuckhole that posted that and direct them to Pitchfork so they have something interesting to read.
With that being said, the past week has been a whirlwind of the best live music, the worst days of work and some solid QT with the Aussies. Let me start with Friday evening’s run-a-round. After work a group of kids assembled at Motor City where Adam “I Play Air Guitar Better Than You” was spinning so rock. The whole lot of us used it as a warm up for the !!! (chk chk chk) show that was being thrown down later at the Bowery. We picked up some much needed grub at Rosario’s before stopping by Kristen’s for a quick cocktail before the dance party. The Bowery was raging when we showed up and we only had to sit though a small wait before the goodness took the stage. If you’ve yet to check out !!! make sure you snatch up a ticket next time they play the area. This collective creates soundscapes with dance beats embedded in their electro-funk attitude. My favorite part of their shows consists of the drummer emerging from behind the kit only to take center stage with the geekiest of style. Midway through the set I found myself in a pocket of the crowd going nuts with Denise and Builder. Some magazines have been less than kind to their new record, but you can bet there is no room to talk smack on !!!’s live performances. Big props go out to all the kats who danced their asses off. It was great to finally meet Bidi and to Culkin Steven who was hilarious.
Saturday gave way to more running around than NYC pot dealer. It started with the Mercury Lounge hosting a night of 5 boroughs rock. First on the bill was Sons of Sound who were making their debut performance. Their well-rehearsed sound could have fooled any onlookers not in the know. This is Dennis Cahlo’s new brainchild that consists of two guitars and a drummer. They recall brethren like Interpol, but Dennis’ voice adds a soft harmonic layer to the dark and driving music. It would come as no surprise to me if this band blows up overnight.
Following Sons of Sound were the kids of Dirty On Purpose. Jin told me that Dj had written a new song and since he penned the epic instrumental Monument, this blogger was nearly peeing his pants in anticipation. The overly modest five-piece tore through the whole Ep minus one of my favorites (Spider Eyes). I hope they don’t have a problem with that track because it drives my insides crazy and if I don’t hear it live in coming shows someone might get hurt. They delivered another spot on set that had Builder whispering how much he is in love with them after every song. The new song was catchier than predicted and its just another hook that Dirty On Purpose has landed on this fan.
Hawkins was kind enough to drive us out to Brooklyn following the Mercury show. We managed to get to McKibben Street by 11:30pm. Mike and Paul had managed to trick the hell out of their party. The drink line was always four people deep, the bathroom line was a lost cause and trying to see the final band, Nakatomi Plaza (yes, it’s the building name from Die Hard was nearly impossible. Kids were scattered all over the building and when I went downstairs to take a leak behind some cars. Upon my return to the building I found a few of NYPD’s finest crashing the fundraiser. I found the rest of the kids and we high tailed it out of there before anything got messy. Mike said they broke up the party soon after we bolted, but they still made a sizeable amount of green.
We stopped by Erin’s in the burg before heading back to town. Allie, Hawk and I cruised into Opaline at a weak attempt to find the after party. We passed a beer for a couple minutes before deciding that we were way in over our heads and in need of an economical cocktail. The Johnson’s was crawling with kids of the same intent. We ran into a few friendly faces and drank the night away.
On Sunday Hawkins, Mandell, Daylen and I took a day long vacation to Princeton for a celebration at Liz Costa’s house. Her parents threw together a barbeque to honor Liz who graduated from NYU this spring and recently completed her first marathon. We had a killer time hanging in the backyard eating some grade A grill grub.
My week was shaping up to be a nice quiet couple of days until I received a call late Monday afternoon from Burke who (in a round about manner) asked if I could put him and the rest of Gerling up for a couple of nights. 186’s revolving door policy rarely turns anyone down and that definitely includes three hilarious “blokes” from down under. For two nights we got extremely pissed and rolled about town. Monday we found ourselves back in the Johnson’s, but on Tuesday we stopped by the opening of Odea for an open bar and a dj set by Ms. Melody Nelson.
Yesterday was a necessary crap out because I’d been going strong for too long. Now I’m recharged and ready for Thursday night. I hope to see you all at the Luna.
FREE Rock Thursday.
It’s been a couple of hectic days. The weekend was full of outstanding shows while the early part of my week was crammed full of free drinks and Australians. I’ll explain a bit more later today if my work permits it. My office has been a bit on the crazy side so I’ve been an absent blogger. That is all about to change. In the mean time, cruise through the Luna Lounge this evening for a killer rock show featuring Sam Champion and These Bones. The sight of these artists on the same bill makes me giddy and the fact that it’s a FREE show makes my wallet smile. After party plans are forthcoming. The Luna Lounge can be found on Ludlow between Houston and Stanton so get off the couch and come see a rock show because you are all on the list. And so you know, yesterday was Mike Bones' 21st birthday so buy that kid a drink!
Downtown Rock.
Also on tonight’s menu is NYC’s own The Witnesses. They are hitting at Tribeca Rock Club so if you can’t make it to the L.E.S. stop by the club and support you local artists. San Francisco's The Vue will be sharing the bill. There will be an after party at The Delancey (Delancey just east of Clinton) with special guests and some Dj’s.
Are You Adequately Prepared To Rock?
In an attempt to start the evening off on the right foot (read: getting drunk) we will be hitting up Motor City (127 Ludlow btwn Delancey & Rivington) to drink PBR while Adam (show above, on the left) spins all the rock you have grown to love, (picture via Productshop NYC). Adam will be on the decks from 6-10pm so come down and feel the love.
Then we have a couple of hours to kill before heading to the Bowery. Do you have ideas? I’m guessing dinner would be the best one, but more drinking on a roof top or two could be in order.
You will want to get to the Bowery Ballroom before midnight if you are a ticket holder for tonight’s show. !!! (chk chk chk) will be taking the stage at the stroke of (give or take a few) and they are poised to make us unfold our arms and dance around like crazies. I’m predicting hop scotch sightings and a possible Culkin, but let’s hope not.
Then its time to make a decision on which after party we will attend. There is a party going down at Rothko which seems to be the most viable option, but there is a !!! party out in Brooklyn that Noah and Bidi told me about. Check out the comments from a post below if this peaks your interest.
Other Options Include: Bishop Allen w/ Adam Green @ Mercury; Longwave w/ Robbers on High Street @ North Six; Franz Ferdinand @ Volume.
Skaturday!
I’m hoping Hawkins is down to either drive or let me drive up to the Cloisters. I’ve wanted to chill out in those gardens for a day, and now its time to do it.
The evening will be filled with rock and drinks beginning with the Dirty on Purpose show at the Mercury. Opening the evening will be Dennis’s band Sons of Sound who now have a full band. This should be a great show. I can’t wait to hear the new DoP track Jin has been telling me about. If you have yet to hear or see Dirty on Purpose make some room in your iPod and your hearts because they will demand its space. Also on this buzzworthy bill is Benzos and The Bravery.
If you don’t go to the Mercury than get off your ass and head to Sin-e where Anna and the rest of the Knife Skills crew will be holding it down tough style. Watch out because Anna just may punch you in the face and yell something about Texas. She rocks as does her band.
Anna demonstrates her skills! (I kid, I kid)
The icing on the cake will be the Five Gets You Fucked Party out in Bushwick. I’ll be heading out there after DoP finishes (roughly 11pm) so if you are a straggler and want to take the L with me late night then give me a call. It will be mucho fun. There is a ton of beer and mixed drinks along with some bands and Dj’s. Check out the flyer for directions and specifics,(click on it for a bigger version). Come support the arts.
Other Options Include: Gerling @ Knit (Burke is back in town!); The Wrens @ Bowery; Fashion @ Luna; Honorary Title @ Pianos.
Advanced Warning!
Clear your calendars for this coming Thursday, June 24th because Sam Champion and These Bones will be playing a show at the Luna Lounge. I’ve talked to Noah Champion and Sean Bones and since I’m such a huge fan, they told me I can put you all on the guest list, so come down and see some free rock. Yeah, it’s a joke and I know its pushing the limits of stupidity, but isn’t that what Friday afternoon is all about?
Franz Fuck'n Ferdinand.
Say what you will about hype trains and selling out, but make sure to curb your tongue when you mention it in the same breath as Franz Ferdinand. Last night the four welsh boys cruised into NYC to give us another taste of their catchy-as-all-hell rock. These boys are (as they may put it) super fantastic. But hold your horses, we have a whole evening to discuss and for the first time in a couple weeks an evening out has left me hungry for more New York nightlife.
How Much Does Sivan Rock?
I hope you all know her by now, (or at least her bar). This blogger does talk about Bside on a consistent basis, but it is all with good reason. Last night Matt came over after work and we met up with Adam before heading up to Bside to partake in the half price drinks. Sivan started clapping when we arrived. She makes you feel like you are king shit. She is one of those people who always greets you with all smiles and a hug even if you are sweaty, (sorry Siv, its summer time). She kept our ice cubes cold while we caught up with her. The bar was nice and busy and eventually Hawkins, Builder, Christie and Julia showed up for a couple of drinks and some pool in the back room, (that now comes equip with a make out couch… any takers?)
We were under the impression that the Veils were opening at Webster Hall so we skipped through the pouring rain and jumped into a cab. The rain was outrageous. The streets were flooded. It would have definitely been an evening of sitting on my ass had it not been for Franz. We arrived at the venue, got past the dickhead security and made our way to the upper level to catch some opening rock. Unfortunately the Veils were no where to be found. We walked into the Oranges Band set who I haven’t seen since an afternoon showcase at CMJ nearly two years ago. My first question is: why do they have five guitars? My second question is: how much do you like Ted Leo? My final question is: do you get your collared shirts on a group discount? Ok, so they weren’t bad, but they also weren’t Franz. They did cover the Ramones’ Do You Remember Rock & Roll Radio? which had me singing along like an seventh grader playing air guitar on a baseball bat in his bedroom back in Pennsylvania, (did I say that).
During the break we found out how shitty Webster Hall can be. How do you feel about paying 8bucks for a vodka tonic after paying 25bones to see the show? Yeah, I didn’t feel too good about it either. At one point I ordered a VT and a bottle of water and the girl charged me 14bucks! FOURTEEN! I don’t consider myself cheap, but I don’t spend that much dough on groceries. In an effort to slow my drinking down I went outside with some of the kids for a smoke. Another treat about Webster Hall is that the security guards are fucking dicks. They are that type of security that tries to start shit with you just so they can throw you out. Here is my formal notice: WEBSTER HALL EATS PILES OF DICK!
Anyway, we made it back upstairs to catch some of the Sons and Daughters set. I’d been meaning to see them for awhile, but again, this wasn’t the evening for it. I wanted Franz and I wanted it now. After some prolonged bitching Franz took the stage and I scooted through the crowd to where Audrey and my buddy Dave were standing. We had a great time dancing around (in a confined space of course) and going into light show induced seizures. They played all the hits and one new song. They even played tracks like Van Tango and Shopping for Blood which are b-sides from their first couple singles. They were quite the showmen as well taking every opportunity to raise their axes to the goods of rock and dance around swinging them in unison. I was so psyched on this show because they took the liberty to play Matinee which they had left out of their Bowery performance a few months ago. Towards the latter half of the set I slide back to the kids and we danced around to the hits. They cruised back for an encore and ended with Fire which had us nice and sweaty. Right before the encore a young lady tapped my shoulder and asked me to slouch down and before I could even consider retaliation, Thom Yaps popped up right behind me and took the place right in front of the little girl. Screw her anyway. You want me to slouch? Go to the balcony if you can’t handle it. Let me just say that Franz Ferdinand will save your life. Plain and simple.
After the show we walked through the rain soaked streets and stopped by 186 so some of the kids could get their fix. The plan was to head to The Delancy because Audrey was laying down a set for the first installment of Karibomb’s birthday party. I don’t know Karibomb, but happy birthday to her anyway. Also, a belated birthday wish to my boy and you favorite big man, Stevo. Allie, Christina and MC met up with Christie, Julia, Matt, Adam and I for some late night drinks in the red room attached to the bar. The AC was pumping so I was a happy camper. Upon arrival, I met a girl (I believe her name is Jessica – sorry if I’m wrong) who clued me in on some funny blog gossip. Thanks for the dish, and thanks for reading. Audrey hit the decks and played ESG and !!! back-to-back which pleased this white boy with no moves. After her set we all hung around and I talked with Glen who plays bass in Asobi Seksu and is a really nice guy. I also ran into Andy who was having a solid time and debating his attendance at the Bowery this evening.
Matt and I took off around 2am and cruised back to 186. As we entered the apartment I yelled “Bitches” at the top of my lungs (as is now the custom) and Hawkins, who was asleep on the couch, shot right up and started screaming. I nearly pee’d my pants laughing. It was an amazing evening that may get matched tonight. I can only hope so.
Weekend agenda and party promotions coming in the afternoon, so check back one more time so you don’t miss anything.
Do It Again.
Here is a tast of what's to come. I'm cooking an update so check back in a bit. For now, have some coffee and get psyched for Friday.
jayGTC: yeah, my plan is:
jayGTC: 5pm walk home
jayGTC: 5:30pm settle for nap
jayGTC: 7:30pm shower
jayGTC: 8pm motor city
jayGTC: 10pm our house or mandells for drinks
jayGTC: 11:30pm head to the bowery
jayGTC: 12:30am !!! rocks my face off
jayGTC: 2am Rothko Afterparty
jayGTC: 4am asleep like a happy baby.
Take Me Out.
So I do have 1 extra ticket available for the Franz Ferdinand show this evening at Webster Hall. If you want it, its $25 (yeah, ticketmaster sucks) and you will have to meet up with us before the show. It's that simple. You won't be disappointed by this show, I can promise you that much.
Beat My Guest.
Back in 1999 a young kid from Pennsylvania traveled a great distance to get a glimpse of a new film called SLC Punk. The film wasn’t anything special cinematically speaking, but it was thought provoking especially since I had sent my formative years listening to various SoCal punk rock along with the oldies every kid my age has in their catalog. It hit close a little close to home since we had recently buried a friends brother who died while riding home in a vehicle piloted by a drunk driver. At the same time, here I was, this young quasi punk who was getting ready to jump ship on his friends in search of a better life in New York City. It was my belief that my current bastard tendencies would be shed in pursuit of higher education and a beautiful woman.
Five years later and I don’t have much to show for it. My pre-law aspirations were shed after 2 years of battling with the likes of Neitzsche, Mills and the like. Philosophy plagued my pursuit of everyday happiness. My Rawls like Veil of Ignorance was slowly being lifted and the horrors of society and adulthood scared me to death. In an effort to thwart all efforts of growing up, I turned back to music. The beginning has now proven that it will be the end. There are no other options for me, and in the end it looks like my Lillard like selling out won’t occur.
In any event, I brought up this film because there was a song in the movie that never managed to escape my memory. It had an infectious intro with a guitar part that hooks you from the beginning and quickly reels you in before giving the listener a chance to reject it. The song was used while the boys were setting out on their journey to Oregon to buy cheap beer for a house party they hosted. Until yesterday I had no face or name for the band that played the song that had the ability to stick with me even though I’d heard only a portion of it.
While walking into the office yesterday morning the song showed up on my iPod shuffle. It was Superchunk’s Beat My Guest. For sum reason Superchunk never made it into my collection. I was too busy paying attention to Epitaph rather than Sub Pop. At the time I couldn’t see myself buying into the indie crowd if for the only reason that I couldn’t get kids to drive to Pittsburgh with me to see shows. It was easier being a punk and listening to bands like Bad Religion and Pennywise. Little did I know that seven years down the line my life would revolve around the records Sub Pop puts out.
So here I am at 23 writing a few hundred words about nothing. There you are at whatever age reading my few hundred words about nothing. The point is, that song kicks ass. I don’t know yet what the song is about, but I have a feeling it will have some sort of impact on me.
Fat Mike For President.
Ali Meyer just dropped me this link. Since my computer at work is fucked beyond belief, I’m hanging out with the student workers in their room so this computer doesn’t have any speakers, but luckily I already know the song. Check it out if you want a good laugh at Bush and remember, if you don’t want your country to be guided by an idiot son of an asshole, you must get off the couch in November and allow that voice of yours to be heard.
Keep Your Fingers Crossed.
Today Pitchfork reported that Rivers Cuomo discussed plans for Weezer’s fifth record with Billboard earlier this week. The band is waiting until the black rimmed front man finishes his Fall semester at Harvard to put out the record so he will be free to do some touring, (or at least I think so). I’m hopping we see a departure from the Maladroit subtle metal style, but either way I won’t be getting my tattoo removed.
A Break From Rock.
There have been numerous rock shows in the neighborhood this week, but I’ve opted for sports instead. On Tuesday Matt, Noah, Mandell and I hit up the courts for a couple games, but the heat was destroying all of us so we returned to 186 to watch the Pistons finish off the Lakers in impressive fashion. The apartment was crowded, but it didn’t matter because the game was so damn good. It was nice to see a team of throw away players pull it together and win a World Championship. You have to credit Larry Brown for bringing these kids together and developing a system that caters to each of their individual talents. Now I can’t wait to see the deconstruction of this Lakers team. I have a feeling their starting five may have at least 3 new players at the onset of next season.
Yesterday we did more of the same except this time we were joined by Builder and Jason (who runs the extremely informative blog Productshop NYC). The games went smoothly though my shot had deteriorated in the matter of a day. After the game we (minus Jason) cruised up to Croxly Ale House for a couple drinks and some 10cent wings. Yeah, 10cent wings sounds like a beautiful thing, but when 5 guys order close to 70 wings things can get ugly. We had a poor showing and must have dumped close to 20 of the wings. Poor birds, giving their legs just to be thrown away later.
Did You Get That Memo?
This is a heads up for all of you French Kicks fans. Yesterday I received an email regarding a big corporate show the Brooklyn boys are doing at (WTF?) Bloomingdales in Soho on Thursday, June 24. The show is being put on by Blender and Puma so I’m sure the boys will be decked out in cool trainers. It’s and RSVP show so if you want to get listed write to rsvp@blender.com. It’s sure to be a shit show so you’ll have to get their nice and early. There is some icing on this cake in the form of 2 hours of free drinks.
I stole a smaller image of the invite from Jin… thanks?
Builder Is A Good Sport.
I just received an IM from Builder who is now at work. It read, “Just found another dick in my shirt pocket.” If you don’t know we plastered his room in gay porn while he was away on business. You should buy Dan, Kyle and I drinks for a job well done.
Did You Get That Other Memo?
Yesterday I received another email from Max of the Natural History. Their drummer is leaving the band in pursuit of a different career so if you can hit hard and enjoy their catalog than drop him an email. His letter reads:
Hey Everybody,
The Natural History is looking for a new full time drummer. Our First love, Derek Vockins, is leaving us to pursue architecture. So it goes.
For those of you who are familiar with us, we are looking for Someone who plays like Derek in that they a) hit the drums hard and, at times, aggressive, but b) also have a certain finesse. We're not looking for someone to turn to us and say "what do you want me to play?" (although we do give lots of suggestions if we have something in mind). We're looking for someone who wants to put their creative input into the band. This is a full time thing. You have to be willing to practice 3 to 4 times a week and be willing to go away whenever.
We're wrapping up our second record with Derek. He's leaving after then. We'll be touring a whole bunch this fall in the US starting on Sept. 5th for 5 weeks and then for another 4 weeks wrapping up right before Thanksgiving. That touring would be with YOU! Our new record will be out early next year where are a bunch more touring will resume. Most likely the record will come out in the beginning of February. That touring would be with YOU!
For those of you who might have this email forwarded to you, we play Pop music a la Beatles, XTC, Elvis Costello, Spoon, Kinks.
On top of all this, my brother and I are nice guys, if I do say so myself, who have fun playing in a band. Thanks.
Max (info@thenaturalhistory.com)
So give it a shot if you want to go on tour and have a kick ass time with a couple of really nice guys. If only I would have learned how to play, then maybe, just maybe a dream of mine could be filled. Max, do you need a tour manager?
Hype Or Hoax?
Numerous NYC blogs are starting to spread the rumor that the Beastie Boys will be playing in all five boroughs next Wednesday, June 23. They will be making a stop at the band shell in Prospect Park which is a great venue. There has yet to be any solid confirmation on this information, but keep your ear to the ground if you like that b-boys sound. Will someone burn me the new disc, (I’m pointing at you Adam)?
Burn This City. New York City.
Are you going to the Franz Ferdinand show at Webster Hall this evening? I hope so because I’ll be there dancing as much as possible. If you have tickets for tomorrow nights show at Volume, be advised that the show has been moved to the Warsaw. I don’t know the specifics because I’m planning on hitting !!! (Chk Chk Chk) at the Bowery, but you should look into it if you are currently a ticket holder. I’ll be joined by the likes of Matt, Hawkins, Christie and a couple other lucky contenders. I may also have an extra ticket or two (no promises) so let me know if you are interested. Drop this boy and email or give me a ring. We are planning to hit a happy hour with reckless abandon so let me know if you want to be part of the shitshow.
And It's Only Tuesday.
So Tuesday is dragging on, but luckily I'm taking off around 3:30 today because of an interview at 4pm. Wish me luck dammit. Anyway, there is a solid list of specials on the menu tonight so get out and get drunk because we know that's what Summer is all about.
Option #1.
Basketball. You may be puzzled thinking to yourself hipsters don't play sports. Well, I'm not a fucking hipster and I love sports so this may be my numero uno choice. First up, we are meeting at 186 between 6:30 and 7pm to play ball. Give me a buzz or just show up at the courts on Rivington and Norfolk by 7pm.
Following the game we will watch as Detroit Rock tries to seal the deal against the B-team looking Lakers. Regularly I'm not a Pistons' fan, but who can help themselves when the Wallaces are playing like rockstars while Billups and Hamilton are shooting the lights out. Word on the street is that Joe Dumars will buy everyone Subway if they win.
Option #2.
Check out tonights Vicious Party at Rothko. Click the image above for all the info, but I just want to check out the Morning Theft and Other Passengers which Jin has highly recommended.
Option #3.
There is a Blue Sparks release party going down at Sin-e this evening. I don't really know these guys, but Jo Divestar swears by them and she will also be swearing by the set she is throwing down on the decks. Mike D will also be hitting the 1's and 2's so this gig is well worth your scratch. Just look at Blue Sparks sexiness. Ok, their other photos wouldn't work, but this one was just as cool, even if it has nothing to do with the band.
Feed Your Sophisticated Side.
Michael Rothfeld along his roommates Josh Stein and Paul Sepuya have developed an interesting artist's collective called the Guild the Lily. GtL will be throwing a fundraiser this weekend in Bushwick for their upcoming debut exhibition titled" We have in our minds, pictures, called ideas; aka the Let's Make Pretty Things show" which you should all check out on July 15th in the L.E.S. Check out their website for details. As for the party, it will be a rager this Saturday in the famed McKibben building and for only 5bones you can drink your weight in booze. So mark the date. I'll be heading out to this party after the Dirty On Purpose set at the Mercury Lounge. Click on the flyer for a larger and clearer version of the flyer:
You Better Think.
In the midst of a new report that Al-Qiada was planning to hit the U.S. one shopping mall at a time, I decided it was time to finish watching the original version of The Manchurian Candidate staring Frank Sinatra and Janet Leigh who is quite the looker. Her hotness was better displayed in Psycho and Touch of Evil. Anyway, this classic film has a lot of nods to late noir, but it’s the story that takes center stage. The story involves soldiers who are returning from war, one of which is a trained assassin and another who is trying to decode the spell the former soldier is placed under. There is a modern version of this film coming out soon, but skip it and check out the real deal. It’s worth your time.
Noah stopped in for a few before Hawkins, Kyle and I went to 7A for a quick bite to eat. Have you eaten their avocado tuna melt yet? If not, go, nay, run to 7A and eat it off a toasted English muffin because its tits. We parted ways with Kyle and headed to Bar 13 to meet up with Becky and some kids for her birthday. Upon arriving at the bar I walked into a bunch of people holding up scoring cards. I asked the bartender if upstairs was open, but she informed me that I had stumbled into a private poetry reading. Some people scoffed at me as I made my exit. The kids had moved to Reservoir which is a lame bar, but it was in the neighborhood. Becky, Christine, Kashia, Christina, Frank and Mike were all having drinks when we showed up. We had a hoot over there until close to midnight at which point we scooted over to Frank’s, but Hawk and I decided to slide on home.
I’m A Hoopster.
If you are in the L.E.S. today around 6:30 and you want to play some basketball, we will be gaming at the courts on Norfolk and Rivington. Come by make it a game.
Music And Entertainment News.
- After a near flawless record, Bonnaroo's good name gets a bit of tarnish due to the death's of two festival goers. Why do hippies have to push their luck. They only had to deal with 90 degree heat. We were battling 107 degrees in Coachella. It's a damn shame.
- This isn't news, but check out this firefighter's tattoo. Can you say intense?
- The Vines attempt to pull a Libertines. They have canceled their tour with Incubus after sighting "Mental and Physical Exhaustion." This came after the Sydney show where their bassist bailed after the first song. The most intriguing part of this story is that CNN picked it up. Speaking of pulling a Libertine, Pete Libertine decided he couldn't handle the Thai rehab joint and decided smack is awesome.
- In case you haven't seen it yet, check out the trailer for Michael Moore's new film Fahrenheit 9/11, (thanks Builder).
- Pitchfork reports on the new Pixies track Bam Thwok which is available only through iTunes. There is also word of a new Faint album on the way in mid-September, but don't read that report because it is lame hipster bullshit that doesn't want to be hipster but is by default, (does that make sense). They also seem to like the new Beastie Boys' album, but isn't it kind of hard to tell?
- 50 Cent is tough as nails. I wonder how long before he is hanging with Biggie and Tupac?
- This is a great editorial piece from Chuck Klosterman at Spin. Did anyone see that episode of Queer Eye where Chuck got his Ave A apartment remodeled? Yeah, I did.
I'm Yours. You're Mine.
Happy Birthday to Ms. Becky Steele. This recent NYC import will be celebrating her 23rd at Bar 13 this evening. I will be making an appearance barring any after work bullshit that could put me down before 8pm. Happy Birthday my ghetto fabulous lady friend.
Also, I was listening to Primal Scream during my daily commercial break that some people like to call lunch. While Bobby Gillespie wailed out the lyrics to the first song on Give Out But Don't Give Up titled Jailbird, I was transported back to the mid-nineties in Scotland. Flashy shirts, bad techno and kids craving any kind of rock savior. All I could figure is that diehard fans of this band must be avid coke users. The song is fantastic and has some serious Christmas Bells on it, but I couldn't help but think it will be lumped with Boston's More Than a Feeling on some classic rock compilation in the year 2017.
Less Evil Is Good Evil.
Liberal campaign politics or truly frightening information? You make the call. I'll make the call to Oveis to find out if there is truth to this story. I received the following information this morning:
Pending Draft Legislation Targeted for Spring 2005 the Draft will Start in June 2005.
There is pending legislation in the House and Senate (twin bills: S 89 and HR 163) which will time the program's initiation so the draft can begin at early as Spring 2005 -- just after the 2004 presidential election. The administration is quietly trying to get these bills passed now, while the public's attention is on the elections, so our action on this is needed immediately.
$28 million has been added to the 2004 Selective Service System (SSS) budget to prepare for a military draft that could start as early as June 15, 2005. Selective Service must report to Bush on March 31, 2005 that the system, which has lain dormant for decades, is ready for activation.
The pentagon has quietly begun a public campaign to fill all 10,350 draft board positions and 11,070 appeals board slots nationwide.. Though this is an unpopular election year topic, military experts and influential members of congress are suggesting that if Rumsfeld's prediction of a "long, hard slog" in Iraq and Afghanistan [and a permanent state of war on "terrorism"] proves accurate, the U.S. may have no choice but to draft.
Congress brought twin bills, S. 89 and HR 163 forward this year, entitled the Universal National Service Act of 2003, "to provide for the common defense by requiring that all young persons [age 18--26] in the United States, including women, perform a period of military service or a period of civilian service in furtherance of the national defense and homeland security, and for other purposes." These active bills currently sit in the committee on armed services.
Dodging the draft will be more difficult than those from the Vietnam era. College and Canada will not be options. In December 2001, Canada and the U.S. signed a "smart border declaration," which could be used to keep would-be draft dodgers in. Signed by Canada's minister of foreign affairs, John Manley, and U.S. Homeland Security director, Tom Ridge, the declaration involves a 30-point plan which implements, among other things, a "pre-clearance agreement" of people entering and departing each country. Reforms aimed at making the draft more equitable along gender and class lines also eliminates higher education as a shelter. Underclassmen would only be able to postpone service until the end of their current semester. Seniors would have until the end of the academic year.
Even those voters who currently support US actions abroad may still object to this move, knowing their own children or grandchildren will not have a say about whether to fight. Not that it should make a difference, but this plan, among other things, eliminates higher education as a shelter and includes women in the draft.
The public has a right to air their opinions about such an important decision.
Please send this on to all the friends, parents, aunts and uncles, grandparents, and cousins that you know. Let your children know too ---it's their future, and they can be a powerful voice for change!
Please also contact your representatives to ask them why they aren't telling their constituents about these bills -- and contact newspapers and other media outlets to ask them why they're not covering this important story.
20 Lessons Learned On Holiday.
Yee-hah! My extended Pennsylvania weekend has come to a close and I’m back in my cube churning out paper work and disappointing students on an hourly basis. The trip back to Clearfield went well despite a few snags in the carpet. For the first time in awhile I didn’t miss New York City, I didn’t care what was happening in the 5 boroughs and I didn’t want to return to Manhattan, (at least not yet). Some major issues came up during this visit home, and I was on the road by myself for a large chunk of time so the veil was lifted (or dropped, depending on how you look at it) on a number of subjects. Here are a few lessons learned in the backwaters of Pennsylvania.
Wait a second. Before this list gets rolling I must say Good Luck and God Bless to one of my best friends from home. Brian Sloppy is heading to Pittsburgh this morning to enlist himself in the Air Force. His basic training will take place in Texas, and he will be training to be an airline mechanic. Word to the wise, don’t take commercial flights in about four years because Sloppy will be out of the service and working in a civilian job. Best wishes to Brian who has bucked up and decided to fly straight, (no pun intended). And yes, as it has been stated before, Sloppy is his real last name.
Back To Business.
So here you can find my list of things learned over the past weekend:
1. You are doomed to life of poverty if you plan to work in the music industry. This is due to a number of reasons, but mainly because your idea of good taste doesn’t translate into dollar signs. People in rural America don’t give a shit about independent artists. That may be a generalization, but I feel safe in assuming it. How could the kids who used to go to punk rock shows with me have no idea that Franz Ferdinand is now a band and not just an assassinated Archduke? Why isn’t there a soul who knows that Modest Mouse put out a new record that totally rocks dicks out of mouths? How come the jukeboxes are laden with new metal that makes me want to vomit? The notion of good taste doesn’t matter. It’s bullshit and if you have convictions about staying pure and making boatloads of scratch in the recording industry, than hopefully you are sitting on some money already because you are going to be poor for awhile. Is this me throwing in the towel? Not quite, but it is a consideration. It may be time to become a fan again.
2. Changing the oil in an automobile isn’t that difficult. You should learn so you don’t have to pay the people at Walmart to fuck up your car. Also, laying under a car on a piece of cardboard has its benefits. Maybe I should have been a mechanic. Thanks for the lesson Bruce.
3. Marie Belin is one raw mother. She is quite possibly the coolest person around. She has absolutely no fear and she will speak her mind at all costs. It must have been where I got my “smart” mouth. Anyway, our black cocker spaniel that goes by the name of Eddie is so old. He has to be 17 at this point. Eddie can’t control his bowels when he gets excited. My mother has to clean up piss or shit at least once a day. On Thursday Eddie left what could have been the remnants of a Thanksgiving Feast in our kitchen and mom flipped out. She told Bruce that if Eddie wasn’t there when she came home, she would feel ok about it. She tried to get me to take him or put him down, so I tried to squeeze two grand out of her for the services. She laughed because she knew that one of my friends would do it for a hundred. How could you kill a family member who has been with you for so long? Well, Marie can and it’s not because she doesn’t like him, but he fucks with her everyday. I pray that I’m able to control my body functions for the next few years.
4. Drinking and Driving is a bad decision, but it is a necessity in any area outside of Manhattan and a few other urban areas. People are going to die and it’s a shame I have to say that because we buried a friend in high school due to this problem. Kids don’t have many options and don’t really care. Yes, I know the value of a solid Designated Driver, but unfortunately no one picks up that responsibility. With bars being the only opportunity for entertainment, I feel small towns all over America will continue to struggle with this problem. Pennsylvania has recently lowered the B.A.C. and stiffened offenses, but that has deterred few from participating in the deadly exercise.
5. The majority of people don’t have a problem with “settling.” Fuck that. I want the best and I’m going to die trying to get it.
6. My memory is turning to mush. This trip home had its mini disasters most of which consisted of me completely forgetting peoples names. Though it may sound a bit on the melodramatic side, it made me feel horrible. Why couldn’t I remember the girl’s name who sat in front of me during Homeroom for four years? How could I forget a family friend’s name even after he congratulated me on graduating? And for that matter how the hell did everyone know I graduated? I need to check the pages of the local paper to make sure Mom didn’t throw a picture and byline in there.
7. I should have stuck with my trombone. At the wedding reception I was seated with an old music teacher who told me that I was a really good trombone player and she had wished I kept playing because of my potential. Too bad I couldn’t put up with the “Band Fag” label the jocks put on the kids who played music, otherwise you may be looking at the next guy who plays trombone really well.
8. Speaking of our paper, its name is the Progress. I never really saw the irony in that name until I took a quick walk around the River Front Festival. The scruffs and mountain people that ooze out of the cracks for this annual celebration confirm that there is nothing Progressive about that county.
9. The kids I’ve come to associate myself with are some of the nicest and most loyal people around. Yes, we can site incidences of drug trafficking, prison sentences, partner sharing, money wasting and heavy unemployment, but to be honest with you, those kids are the best and they’ve helped me through the toughest periods that my life has encountered and I’ll forever be in debt to them.
10. My drinking tolerance is way too high.
11. Church services are for the birds. There is something so self-righteous about 300 people agreeing with a priest who says God is in all of us. What a crock of shit. If there is an omnipotent than she/he doesn’t participate in the lives of murders, rapist and child molesters. The priest also said that the married couple should wake up every morning and tell themselves and their partners that they see the divinity in them. How fucked is that? This presumption is ridiculous. God in everyone? Give me a break. If that’s the secret to a perfect, long lasting relationship then stay away from me girls because I can assure you that this man is devoid of all divinity.
12. The clicks you were so devoted to in high school will remain intact. Go to your five year, ten year or whatever year and you will realize that it never changes. Little things change but the overall hierarchy remains the same. Sad but true. Luckily there were a few people who broke the mold and are now in my phonebook. I hope to build on those rusty relationships.
13. Listening to Yankee broadcasts on AM 880 is amazing. Yesterday’s game flipped my shit.
14. My Church skills are rusty. It’s been three and a half years since I last stepped into that church. The last mass attended was a Christmas service that some friends and I got fucked up before rolling into the house of God. Since then I’ve lead a life without the weekly snooze called mass. Does this make me a bad Catholic? Does this put me and this God type at a distance? If all the bullshit they preach is true, than no.
15. Getting married is fucking nuts. I’m serious. This shit is no joke. Ladies, I’m sorry, but if and when I decided to make this commitment with someone, I hope she doesn’t have plans for a grand wedding. Granted, I would proceed with the hoopla if she insisted and it was true love calling, but at this point, I’m thinking a judge and a barbeque. All of that other jazz kills me. I’d definitely pull a Glenn Guglia if my lady wants the big show. I’d anticipate that a girl who is willing to spend the rest of her life with me would have the same ideal alignment, but I’ve grown accustomed to things not going my way.
16. It’s easier to get heroin in central Pennsylvania than a bag of kind bud. How is this possible? Well, I got the full story on the ride home from the reception, so direct your questions to me.
17. My older sister is really a beautiful person.
18. My younger sister is really a beautiful person in the marinating process.
19. Stay away from Wendy’s. It is the delicious devil. They tempt you with their dollar hamburgers and their Biggie sizes. Trust me; your stomach will hate you for it. I spent a day in agony due to Mr. Thomas’s burger joint.
20. Life as a kid was wasted on scattered interests. It was music that finally pulled it all together. Friday afternoon my mother asked me to clean out my closet which has been my only sanctuary since I’ve left for college. My bedroom was turned into a stopping ground for family members and other guests. There is zero evidence that I ever lived in that room unless you open my closet. The walls are no longer adorned with show flyers and Nirvana posters, but rather the walls are covered in a soothing tope and various decorative ornaments. Even my furniture has disappeared. This didn’t matter because I could still come home and open my closet and still feel as though I was hanging on like Sly in Cliffhanger. Now I had to take all the knick-knacks I’ve saved over the years and separate them into Salvation Army and garbage piles. There were so many different boxes of collections that never satisfied my cravings for creativity and imagination. Thank god music came along and pulled everything together, (for better or worse).
That should give you some idea of how my trip went. My next trip back is going to be during the Clearfield County Fair so if anyone has a desire to see Cheap Trick and Clay Aiken in the same weekend with a grandstand full of drunk rednecks than call me and we'll make plans.
Lord, Make Me A Bird.
Thankfully Tuesday only comes once a week. It’s that limbo day where you can’t say clever things like: got a case of the Monday’s, happy hump day or even TGIF. Tuesday is the forgotten piece of the weekly sandwich. It’s that side of slaw that only Hawkins will eat. But today my friends, Tuesday has a whole new connotation for me because Tuesday is my Thursday. Tomorrow will be my Friday cause I’m taking off from work and heading straight to the backwaters of Podunk Pennsylvania. I can’t wait to hit the open road. Just me, some tunes and the blue skies. Let’s hope the PA State Police are as kind as the Massachusetts State Cops.
Waste Time. Waste Money.
So I was dicking around some web site Oveis sent me because of a story regarding a woman at Taco Bell getting attacked with a Chalupa when I found the link to these crazy photos. If you are board at work, have yourself 10 minutes on me.
As for tonight, head up to Rockefeller center to catch the first evening of Drive-In Movies at the Rock which is a free Indie movie series featuring Garden State (this evening), Napoleon Dynamite (tomorrow), and Danny Deckchair (Thursday). Check out the listing for the whole event in this weeks edition of Flavorpill.
You may also want to check out the whole Flavorpill listing this week because there is a bitching !!! boat cruise and a Bishop Allen show at Sin-e.
Also, this weekend, despite my absence, there is going to be a kickass sale happening at Vice. It’s the first annual Vice Warehouse sale and Adam was kind enough to pass me the info. Here are the specs:
VICE Magazine's First Annual Warehouse Sale
June 10-13
12-7pm Thu-Sat, 12-4 Sun
361 West 17th Street @ Ninth Ave
I’m hoping to get back with enough time on Sunday to stop in and purchase some new threads, but that all depends on whether or not the JC Penny is still open in the Clearfield Mall.
I’m also going to be missing the birthday festivities of my favorite French Girl. Why does life have to be so cruel?
Alligator Blood.
So last night started like any other evening. A bunch of dudes were at 186 hanging around wasting time. I think we have 26 roommates now, but that’s fine because I still have my own room. Tonight my boy The Knowledgist (yes, that’s his name) will bring the grand total of boys in the house to six. This includes the three regular residents, the month long (well, we are close to 40 days at this point) stay by Hawkins, the weekly done by Gabe and Knowledgist’s couple night crash before heading to Europe. Too many boys, but it can be fun. Once I get back from home, everyone must get out so I can get back to my normal life.
Last night we had a big hang that included Dee, Noah (the other one), Kyle, Miriam, Gabe, Builder, Dan, Hawk, Erin, Leah, Cami and Danielle. We did some fire escape chilling before heading to the kitchen to play some high stakes (by poor kid’s standards) poker. The pack got weeded down to the point where Hawkins and I were the last two in the game. I eventually upended Hawk Rock and became the big winner for the evening. Who’s the big winner? Jay. Jay’s the big winner.
Let’s Talk Tonight.
So there is a lot of talk going around for this Tuesday evening. People are playing it like a Thursday, which as stated before, suites me just fine. At this point I’m holding out hope for the Wilco show, but it doesn’t look good. Knowledgist and I are going to hit up the Mercury for the Opti-Grab show and then probably head to Johnson’s or somewhere like that for a few drinks. I hope to see all of you whether you are at Irving, Tonic or even at home. Let’s do some damage, so give me a call.
PS. In the near future this blogger may start carrying about music again so watch out.
Lost Cause.
So here we are at the birth of a new work week. A fresh start. A new beginning. Another week with endless potential. The problem remains that all I can think about is quitting my job. You have to understand that I’m not bitching here because bitching is no longer the term for this style of venting. I’ve been doing the same job for three years. THREE FUCKING YEARS! What am I supposed to do about this? I can’t handle the student requests, the heavy paperwork or the office politics any more. My gut is wrenched. My teeth are clenched. My head feels like someone has it in a vice. This is not healthy, and I’m honestly thinking of quitting. Does anyone have leads for me? I don’t want to be unemployed, but being unhappy on a 24 hour basis is trying. One change is all I need. Maybe I’ll pack up and head west. Pioneers managed to pull that off even with fear of the unknown. Is it time I buck the fuck up and leave this place behind me. I feel so sick. I could puke at any moment.
This is a formal request to those of you with jobs. Please keep your ear to the ground for openings in your office or any affiliated organizations. I need a change and I’m willing to apply for anything. I realize the music industry is fickle and I probably won’t be able to find a job working with music, so the flood gates have opened.
So on top of all this I’m checking out The Knot which is a web site where my friend Tiffany has her wedding registry posted online. Are you kidding me? People are getting married? Little Tiffany who used to go to the old punk rock shows at the VFW with Evan and me when we were in 8th grade? The same Tiffany who used to go out with the dirtiest punk rock kids in high school? The same Tiffany who used to be my confidant and make out partner? So here I am, all of 23 years young, getting nervous about returning home. It’s almost like a preseason game before the reunion invitations start rolling in. My suits are at the dry cleaners, I got a hair cut and I’ve been doing push ups in preparation of seeing old friends who will be judging on appearance and employment. It looks like I’m fucked.
You Get Away From Me.
So enough of that sappy pappy bullshit, I mean what does my mental health really matter? I apologize for this becoming a public forum for my monologues that should stay within the interior of my mind, but it is an outlet for me to vent some frustration. In the mean time, here are some hilarious pictures that have been taken over the past few weeks with descriptions beneath them. Sorry that some of the quality is garbage, but you can get the jist.
This is one of the first pictures taken at Coachella. This is my friend Whitney in the middle of the highway leading to the grounds. This was taken while we were running around hopping into random vehicles.
Another picture from the same car ride. Its a picture of Cami's feet who is running to catch up with the car after she had popped a squat in some bushes.
This is Perry trying to take Beach down in a one man Culkin before !!! hit the stage during the second day of the festival.
Here is my boyfriend Paul at the festival. I miss him calling me a human pacifier.
This automobile was our baby for three days. Flynne, Builder and I got this picture taken at Joshua Tree State Park. Unfortunately Cami wasn't available for the picture, but she's there in spirit.
IF YOU GET OFFENDED BY GAY PORN THAN YOU MAY NOT WANT TO SCROLL DOWN ANY FURTHER ON THIS PAGE. JUST A WARNING.
Dan and I bought a bunch of porn, cut out all the cocks and hid them all over Builders room while he was in Seattle on business. Here is dan with some of the master pieces.
Builder after finding another one of our many hidden cocks.
While Hawkins was passed out we decided he would look best draped in gay porn.
Finally, here is the last of the Builder shaming. This is Perry in the same speedo that he did a stirp show in during the Rana set at the Mercury Lounge. He decided to crawl around in Builder's bed for a bit and naturally I had to capture it on camera.
This Is How You Know.
So you know the rest of my weekend was pretty tame, nothing exciting to report, though Hawkins did take us out to an amazing brunch yesterday and Beach had a small BBQ on Saturday. I like to eat.
R.I.P. Ronald.
As all of you surely know, we lost former movie star and two term President Ronald Reagan. Since I don't have any pictures of Reagan and I don't care to look, I'll use one of my own. This is a picture of a memorial from Joshua Tree for some guy named Dan. Check back Monday for a backlog of old photos from the past couple months.
We Like It Slow.
As some other blogs may say, Friday night is so best. I don’t know exactly what that means but at this point in the morning it feels fairly appropriate. Last night was one of those all around evenings where good food, amazing friends and some rock music are tossed in the blender and mixed into a tasty cocktail.
Hawkins was kind enough to let me take his whip out to Carroll Gardens so after work I swung by Liz’s place and snatched her up before we came back through the neighborhood to pick up Oveis. We made it out to Brian’s neighborhood with no problem and everything looked familiar once we hit the streets because Chernin had squatted at Brian’s place while he was on tour last summer.
So we rolled through the open doors up to the open roof deck. Let me explain to you that this is not your typical half assed roof deck. Brian has the whole roof of his building and it has outdoor speakers and a killer grill. Long and short it kicks your decks ass. Upon entering the party we were greeted by Carlos and Tom. When I asked Carlos what he was getting into this evening he promptly responded, “As much beer as possible.” I also though it was funny when we walked through the door, Carlos said, “Hey, it’s the college kids.” There were so many bands at this BBQ that it made me dizzy, but that’s beside the point because what really mattered was Brian’s ability to play host. He made sure everyone was getting grub and drinks. Noah, Ryan and Kristen showed up and we all managed to get our eat on. I talked to another Ryan and his friend Sam who all live on my block, so if you live on Norfolk let me know, we are looking for a fourth to start a posse. Oveis, Liz and I had to jet early to get back to town, but hopefully more of those happenings will be taking place this summer.
We popped into 186 for a hot second before Liz and I headed to see On the Speakers at the Mercury Lounge. It was my first time seeing these guys, and suffices to say that Jay was pretty excited. I’ve fallen in love with their Ep since Noah turned me on to them. I was a bit disappointed by the turn out, but the crowd never really affects my evening. We grabbed a drink and headed to the usual corner and saddled up for a rock show. On the Speakers sound a lot like Creeper Lagoon which is understandable since some of the guys from Creeper formed this group when they broke up. They also wear some Costello and Police influence on their shoulders, but that isn’t pulled through the whole set. Each song seems to have a different style, but they are all imbedded in big rock guitar, simple rhythms (that quickly change) and some extended jams. All and all I thought it was solid, but Liz thought otherwise.
My evening ended at Bside where Sivan was having her birthday party. All the regulars came out to celebrate with our favorite entrepreneur. It was great seeing kids like Mike, Justin, Megan, Josh, Karen, Gideon and Carlos under one roof. Megan and I did some catching up, (I didn’t even know she was at Coachella). I also tried to catch up with Karen when I could. It sucks that I don’t see those girls much anymore, but I will take it when I can get it. My night ended with a game of pool against Hawkins and a walk home with my lover of the same name.
Tonight is going to be hectic, but right now that doesn’t matter because I’m getting a haircut and then heading to the Belmont. Hopefully I’ll become RICH BIATCH! Also, in case you left early or weren’t there at all, here is a picture of Beach on Perry’s shoulders. What a butternut.
Get Your Rocks Off.
Well pull my pants down and call me Hawkins, it’s already the weekend! It’s nearly that point of the week where everyone says kiss my ass so what and heads to the bar in pursuit of a good buzz and poorly performed sexual acts. The weekend is a joyous occasion where many men take relief in loosening their ties while women take comfort in the fact that if they loosen their morals they have a chance at finding a solid drunk dial. Good bless the summer. Short skirts and bad sun burns. Hot dogs and fufu drinks. Baseball and Blueballs. Good times.
This Weekend’s Lineup.
There is a lot to get too, so I’m going to throw it down in some sort of daily order. Hopefully you can catch what I’m laying down.
- Tonight: First things first. I’m kicking off my summer barbeque series in Carroll Gardens this evening. Noah and I will be basking in the glorious glow of all things grilled. If you are interested in getting down, give me a call and we will see what can be done.
- Once I’ve had my fill of PBR and hotdogs its back to Manhattan for the On the Speakers set at the Mercury Lounge. Are you going? Cause you should. Their Ep is pure rock genius even if you hate rock, (???).
- The last stop of this gravy train will be at Bside where Sivan is celebrating her 24th birthday. That’s right kids, while the rest of us are busy humping desk jobs, little Ms. Harlap was opening a bar. Come help her celebrate with cheap well tequila and the possibility of cupcakes.
- Honorable mention for this Friday night goes to: Stratford 4 w/ Dios (Bowery); The Double w/ Vietnam (Sin-e); More Chapelle show at 186.
- Saturday: My day will start with Jacob coming over to 186 to give me a hair cut because of this wedding I have to attend next weekend. Having old friends marry is scary (rhyme?), but it should be fun hooking up with townies. Can you tell I’m joking?
- Following the release from the rag, I’ll be heading to weekend barbeque #2 that will include me manning a grill and Culkin’n Mohawk. Check your rear view mirror Mohawk. Objects may seem closer than they appear.
- Then its decision time. The Headset are playing at Arlene’s grocery and you should all go support Jordan and the boys, but I may be attending the Bishop Allen show at the Tank. They are playing with We are Scientists who are friends of friends, but I haven’t heard them yet. There is also a late Arbor Day set at Pianos which is in the hood and since I love Dan like a bastard child, I'll probably be there.
- Sunday: Fuck Sunday. I sure as shit don’t roll.
So call me because I want to party. I want to get drunk. I want to be a shoulder to cry on. I want to be your personal shit show. Wait a second. Fuck all that. I’m going to be a one man wrecking crew so bolt down the furniture because I’m swinging your way.
The Good Fight.
My intention was not to alarm my fellow club goers with my renouncing of all things rock. Don’t fret associates; I’ll still be the kid in the back doing the “hop scotch” and trying his hardest to look like a chubby Rivers Cuomo. At this point I’ve hit one of those cliché ruts. You know what I’m talking about because we all go through it. It’s some inborn twenty-something life evaluation where you realize you don’t have special skills, you don’t have a significant other, you don’t have a reason to live in a city that prevents you from saving any scratch and you don’t have a right to bitch about your present plot. The only problem is this internal personal complacency that is encouraging me to say fuck it. Kind of like Curtis Armstrong in Risky Business.
But I don’t want to get ahead of myself because this is just a phase and it probably won’t last more than a week or two. I’m hoping a trip back to the homestead will help me clear the cobwebs and get focused. At that point I can come back to NYC and start my job search that will probably end in another administrative job making a little more money for a lot more work. Fuck it. Rock n’ Roll is for suckers.
Did That Make Sense.
Let me tell you that public poetic waxing makes you feel like a seventeen year old kid who is destroyed at the news that Creed is breaking up. In short, it makes you feel like a moron. So I’m taking the advice of some other guy (was is Mark Metcalf as Doug Neidermeyer) who said, “Buck up Bart!” Let’s just move on to what happened last night.
After another day in the office I read through the new issue of Vice that is all based on partying. Sometimes I wish that magazine would put me to work. By sometimes, I mean all the time. Some people want to give it shit because it disregards any laws of journalism or good grammer, but who gives a shit. Not I because their articles are funny as hell and pertain to a lifestyle most of us try to emulate.
Anyway, my plan was to meet up with Jin at Bside to partake in their cheap as hell happy hour special of half price drinks. I beat Jin to the punch, but it was cool because the lovely Sivan was tending to the needs of the locals looking for a spirit or two. Catching up with Sivan is always a treat since we both have a lot to talk about concerning our little worlds that seem to be intertwined. Jin showed up and we got down to discussing my lack of love for this moment of rock, the pains of booking a tour and why the hell we pursue this lifestyle.
She was on her way downtown so I scored an expensed cab ride back to 186 where I willfully wasted the rest of the evening trying to watch films in my bootleg DVD player. Now I’m off to lunch, but expect a weekend schedule and some random thoughts when I return.
On Tap.
This evening there is a bevvie of choices for your listening pleasure, but since I'm swearing off rock n' roll (that's right, my love affair is over, I'll explain later), my attendance for any of these is questionable at best. My best will be done, but don't expect much.
First on the agenda is a FREE set by Startime International's Brooklyn based boys The French Kicks who are playing at the Virgin Megastore in Union Square. Issac has instructed the youth to bring Vodka in Snapple bottles so show up with your Long Island Iced Teas and catch a free set. This is something I will actually attend.
After this free show you should head to The Delancey (Delancey at Clinton) for the Plus One Management sponsored opening night of UP! featuring a live performance by the hottness of The Twenty Twos (pictured above), The Hong Kong and The Benzos. The doors open at 8pm so get your ass down there for the FREE vodka drinks from 9-10pm.
If you are one of those kids who lives across the river, don't fret, there are options for you. Go check out Dios at the Northsix, (don't worry Manhattan kids, they play the Bowery tomorrow night). But if you are willing to cross over to BK than your evening could be full of Startime rock.
There is your Thursday night menu so go, my children, and spread the rock.
Pull Out Method.
The art of mastering a successful Pull Out is no easy task. You must size up those around you before deciding whether or not this method could be executed without any serious collateral damage. Last night I pulled out without good reason or proper lead time. This annoyed some people, but what’s a brother gonna do? Let me first apologize to Builder because last night’s pull out method directly affected him.
Let’s get something clear. When I say pull out method, I’m not referring to prom pregnancy prevention techniques. Rather my pull out method is more akin to pulling a Belin or a Bail’n if you will. Since my days at an undergrad, which by my records include today, tomorrow and so on, I’ve been infamous for pulling a Belin, (hell, it is my namesake). Proficient use of the Belin requires a least a few drinks and a shitty attitude both of which I had last night. The perfect Belin requires that the actor duck out unnoticed without any sign of his/her departure. As many of you know, this is my classic move, but last night I had to elaborate on the Belin due to the nature of the situation.
Following work I was in a foul mood, but not because the work day was rough, (in fact it was quite easy). It probably had to do with this off the chain little sister I’ve had to hear about for the past couple weeks. The problem lies within my ability to approach her and discuss monetary and behavioral issues. She shuts down and gets upset as soon as the subjects are broached which makes it nearly impossible to have a conversation with her as a young adult. Anyway, this mood wasn’t getting lifted despite the steps that were being taken to absolve me of my furrowed brow.
Noah and Oveis stopped by and we caught a couple episodes of the Chapelle show that I picked up on DVD at Kim’s. Hawkins and I popped in there after work and said hello to Chris who was doing his best to be a dick in the rental section. Chris and I have a great love/hate relationship that is all about the love on the inside despite the appearance of hate on the exterior. So Noah, Builder, Oveis and I headed to Shades of Green to grab some grub before going to the My Morning Jacket show. At dinner I explained that the show was a no go for me, and that I would sell my ticket. An apology to Mikey who wanted to go, but I prevented it. My bad. Brian, Daylen, Miriam, Beach, Liz and Justin showed up and we finished our drinks before walking to the club.
Outside of Irving a kid was desperate for a ticket and I was equally desperate to go home to view the newly acquired DVD, City of God. I sold the ticket, endured a quick round of name calling and turned my compass back to 186 with intentions in order. On my way I returned a message to Liz who was on the street with Shoshanna. They wanted to catch a drink so I told them one drink and then I was hitting it. We decided on Mary Ann’s because of the margarita factor. After a couple of drinks I realized that the film was now out of reach, but I still got home by 12am. After a few pages of this book I can’t seem to get through, it was lights out.
Happy Knee Surgery.
This is just a quick shout out to Z Money who is heading back to Pennsylvania today to get some knee surgery tomorrow. Good luck Christie! I’ll be through that state next week and I’ll bring you some NYC tap water.
Solid Show On The Horizon.
So I just received an email from the underbelly of NYC rock and he informed me that Gerling has been confirmed for a rock show on June 28th with The Pleased at the Mercury Lounge. Did you meet Burke while he was in town? He is the chap in the middle. Burke and his lady Amy were on holiday from Austrailia when I met them at 7A a couple months ago. They are grade A kids and I can't wait to see his band live. They are a bit like the Strokes but with more grit and electro to it, (I know, thats an easy comparison, but right now I just want the day to end).
A Random Thought Or Two.
1. Sam Champion should change his name because it sucks as a weather man's name, but it's a kick ass rock band moniker. Give up and Sam and leave it for the kids.
2. Speaking of Sam Champion, watching them on Sunday made me realize how bullshit New York can be. Here you have a rock band. A rock band that pays close attention to the stripped down goodness of rock roots. There are no blips, no beeps, no swooping cresendos, no spooky backdrops and I'm finally cool with that. Maybe its because I listened to the Sonics, Boom! all weekend,
or maybe its because I'm tired of caring, but I think the style of rock Sam Champion is refreshing.
3. Being single is starting to bring me down. All these kids, all these couples and me. I was thinking about friends who have had multiple relationships since the last time I was anywhere near serious with a lady and dammit there are too many of them. Well, I guess its back to the dance floor.
4. My little sister is still a bitch.
5. I'm returning home for a friend's wedding in a couple of weeks. Time to hang out with some townies and make out in a hot tub. It's going to be scary.
6. With Detroit now in the NBA finals, I may start listening to more Motown.
7. I need to stop being such a fucking lush.
Can Anyone Cut Hair?.
I'm in desparate need of a good haircut, but I'm not willing to pay saloon prices or roll the die at SuperCuts. That being said, are there any semi decent haircutters out there? I'll make it worth your time, I promise. I need to get this done after work today or tomorrow, and with Karen and Liz out of town, I don't know who turn to. Help me!
You Were Finished?
Busted, battered, torn and bruised. Through all that, I still had an amazing time. Getting banged up on the weekend is like getting laid after prom. At this stage in the game it’s nearly inevitable so you have to suck it up and roll with the various punches that are searching for the knockout mark. Luckily I dodged a few upper cuts this past weekend that had the added bonus of an extra day.
Party In The Slope.
Friday night Noah, Andrew and Ryan had a party at their new place in Park Slope. Earlier in the evening some kids came over to 186 to get the evening kicked off with a couple of beers and some knifers. Around 9pm Oveis, Stevo, Kyle, Christie and I piled into Hawkin’s Outback to take a cruise to the other island. We made it out there without any trouble and found we were on the early side.
Interjection Time.
What the fuck is wrong with girls? Seriously, I’m asking you because I can’t figure it out. This doesn’t have to do with me being single since the end of time due to my inability to schedule time for anyone but myself. It doesn’t have to do with me making out or getting action. It has to do with the absurd actions of my little sister who refuses to use commonsense or show respect for my mother and Bruce. Every phone conversation I have with my parental figures inevitably ends with them venting about the ridiculous behavior of my 18 year old sister. I need help. I need advice. I need to figure out how to make her realize that her actions are plain stupid. She is wasting her savings. She isn’t working. She is amassing 14 parking tickets and 2 bad speeding tickets along with a few accidents after 2 years of driving. She talks back worse than I did as a 13 year old punk. What is a boy to do? She yells at me and hangs up on me. She tells Bruce to go fuck himself. She is off the fucking chain, and I’m going nuts. Why won’t she wise up? When did she loose the ability to reason? Why would an 18 year old girl not be able to see why her parents won’t let her go on a camping trip with three boys? How can she not see the logic? It’s a myth to me. Any kid who doesn’t respect their parents deserves a slap in the face, especially when their mother has been through so much. I can’t hit a bitch, but dammit I’m about to hire someone to do it for me. How does someone have the capacity to hurt everyone that cares deeply about her? My girls are my life and I would do anything for them, but at this point those convictions are being questioned.
Back On Track.
Anyway, Noah’s party was great. A real solid house party despite the fact it was in that other borough. There were many a Culkins had. A couple of the highlights include a botched Culkin by Oveis and I that ended with Beach’s pants ripping, a Culkin on Chernin while he had a full glass of champagne in his hand and the Culkin on Hawkins after he had bet Beach a bottle of tequila that he would never be Culkined again. What an ass. This party was great because I got to know some kids such as Pooja and Carlos a bit better. And how about Erin’s constant Chapelle quoting? Dave and Erin were yelling the Chapelle Little John impression across the room and it was hilarious.
Whaaaat? Yeeeeeah.
The party ended with Beach, Mandell and I taking a car back to the L.E.S. where I met up with Christie and we closed the bar at Pianos before calling it an evening.
To The Victor Goes The Spoils.
Saturday was the big basketball game, but what was touted as a serious match up didn’t really deliver. We met at the courts around 2pm and began the game. Noah and I had a little trouble finding our rhythm, but once we did, it was on like Donkey Kong. Noah and I beat Beach and Oveis 21-5. Noah and I had some solid movement without the ball which opened up some driving lanes which ultimately provided the chance to penetrate and dish to the open man once the defense collapsed. After the beating we played a few more games with Matty G, Stevo, Jack and D’Angelo who was a really cool neighborhood kid who could ball.
Following the physical activity, Noah, Matt and I chilled on 186’s fire escape before meeting up with Lucy, Oveis, Beach and Lil Beach for a viewing of Soul Plane which could be the worst movie I’ve ever seen. I know what you are thinking, “But Jay, Method Man and Snoop Dog in the same film, how could it miss?” Well, it not only missed, it flopped. There were so many fart jokes that a third grader would have thought it obtuse. And all the bullshit emotion was enough to make me vomit. Why were they trying to tell a story between each poo poo joke? To say the least, it was bad. I know most of you aren’t dumb enough to waste your money, but those of you who are, skip this one and go see Mean Girls.
Noah and I decided to collect our free dinner won earlier on Saturday so Oveis, Beach and the two of us headed to Bubbi’s on the west side for some amazing BBQ and PBR. We each indulged in a BBQ combo that consisted of ribs, pulled pork, chicken and brisket. The meal destroyed us so we decided to hang out with Noah’s friend Steve who helped us to digest the various animals that were in our stomachs. We took a walk over to the water just to hang out, and believe me, you should all try this. Near Sty High on the West Side Highway there is a mini-golf course that we tried to hit up, but it was closed. Instead we walked back this dock into this empty piece of pier that had picnic tables and was completely deserted. I think we found a new makeout spot. Is anyone down to try it out?
The evening was finished with some beers over at Nancy’s Whiskey pub which I haven’t been to in ages. It felt like it must have been 10 years since we last stepped foot into that bar to cause trouble and talk with the older bartender dude who is always trashed. That was only four years ago but it feels lifetimes away. Afterward I cut the evening off by renting Miracle and hanging out by myself. And yes, I have a new favorite film. Who do you play for? U. to the S. to the mother fucking A.
The Birthday Bash.
My Sunday started like most Sunday’s regardless of the extended weekend. While laying around watching The Fog of War Perry called and asked me to hunt down a Chili’s that he could stop at on his way to town. We worked it all out and after a series of phone calls, he showed up at 186 along with a ludicrous amount of Boneless Buffalo Wings and various other goodies (including a Brazilian Barking Tree Frog). Beach, Oveis, Stevo, Jack, Chernin, Kyle, Ryan and I all jumped into the grub before heading over to the Mercury Lounge for Beach’s Birthday Bash. When we walked up to the club Jersey Dan was hanging outside and the place was still fairly empty so we went back to 186 so JD could get his munch on. We returned to the club only to find it packed with friends who were getting set to catch Sam Champion’s set which Noah proudly dedicated to the 1980 U.S.A. hockey team. There were a ton of kids there and watch me while I try to mention them all now in no particular order:
Sam Champion, Stevo, Jack, Kyle, Dee, Oveis, Elise, Mohawk, Lucy, Dave, Ali, Raime, Ryan, Jin, Kristen, George, Dj, Pooja, Jordan, Brenda, Dan, Erin, Christie, Rana, Jersey Dan, Anna, Molly, Johhny K, Dennis, Audrey, Justin, Lou, Hawkins, Carlos, Hela, Jeanie, Dave, Perry, Mobius Band, Windskill, Leah, Matty G, some girl named Sunny, Benzos, Builder, Miriam, Jomo, Jen, Andrew, Kirsten and various other monkeys I’ve left out all showed up at the Mercury to pay homage to Johnny “I Piss Tequila and Shit Guacamole” Beach who turned 24 earlier that week. He threw a bitching party that included killer bands and a great mix of kids.
That reminds me. Birthday wishes go out to Sivan and Beach who each turned 24 last week. Sivan’s birthday party is coming up this Friday so keep your calendars clear.
Here is a rundown of the top 10 moments of the party:
10. Justin led the crowd in a Birthday Song.
9. Lucy and Mohawk’s Hawkins Culkin.
8. Seeing Beach drunker than ever. Did you see him?
7. Puke inducing Tequila shot.
6. Windskill.
5. The Culkin on Perry by the Bteam.
4. Sam Champion’s set.
3. Rana’s Louie, Louie and huge set.
2. Perry on stage in a red speedo.
1. Beach on Perry’s shoulders and barely coherent.
The Rest.
I don’t have much to say because the rest of the weekend was uber mello. Some great meals at Clinton Street where they now know me by name, a couple more rented movies and too many knifers pretty much says it all.
And so that all of you know, the Gay Porno prank on Builder's room was a success. That boy will be finding cocks for the next couple of months. For those of you who don't know, Dan, Kyle and I took an afternoon and cut out piles of huge cocks from a couple Gay Porno mags we purchased and proceeded to hide them all over his bedroom. The secret is out though, we know he loves it.
Who Loves Reverb?
Do you dig on My Morning Jacket and M Ward? If so, you should drop me an email because Hawkins has a ticket to sell for this evenings show at Irving Plaza. MMJ is pulling a double shift as the backing band for M Ward. So the ticket is 20bones and its well worth it.
|
| |
| |
|
|
|
|
|
|
