Living With Crackheads.
After a dizzy Wednesday evening, I got back to the apartment, grubbed someone’s leftover burrito and passed out watching The Simpsons. Around 5am my dead sleep was interrupted by the chatter of three people in the kitchen. At first I thought Dan was involved in some fashion, but upon emerging from my cave, I was greeted by Rudy, Kyle and Dee who were having another, “let’s get fucked up and talk about nothing until noon” night. Thankfully, they retired to Kyle’s room for the duration of the early morning. When I managed to drag my ass out of bed, Builder was standing in the hallway trying to explain to me the severity of their crackhead tendencies. After my shower the three crazies spilled out of Kyle’s room and came to mine while I dressed for work. They were scary, but I’ve seen it before. Dee crawls into my bed. Kyle stands there talking about the war or something that someone who has been up for 28 hours shouldn’t be discussing. Rudy retires back to Kyle’s room to play some metal riffs. As I exited the apartment to a barrage of high fives, I walked by Rudy, called him a crackhead to which he replied, “Yeah, I know.”

FYI: They don’t really smoke crack, but maybe they should.

What Day Is Today?
Hump day came and went, but to be perfectly honest, I couldn’t tell. This week has felt like a 5am hook up with a girl who is almost as wasted as me. I couldn’t feel anything. I couldn’t even tell if it was happening. Working two jobs is fairly hectic, but it is so necessary. My broke ass can use all the extra cash it can get. So last night was the third 12 hour day in a row. Fortunately last night was the easiest of all three despite the fact that my door dealt with more people last night than either of the previous two. Working 2nd door is awesome because while you are standing there checking names off a list, you get to know the security guard who has been assigned to work with you. Monday = Eddie. Tuesday = Ray. Wednesday = Ernie. All three guys were top notch. Eddie and I talked about school. Ray and I talked football. Ernie told me about life as a cop. Getting to know people who are at different points in their lives is always an enlightening process. They give you a perspective that we often miss in our alternate hipster reality. It’s a grounding experience.

So the Fab Faux was nearing the end of their first set when my services were no longer needed. I cruised down to the bar to say later to the crew before walking over to the Mercury Lounge in hopes of catching Washington Social Club. The Merc was bustling with young kids which made it difficult to maneuver to the show room. Daylen was hanging out in the back room talking about Chipotle shrimp which made my stomach rumble. Beach showed up after a bit and we hit the bar for a couple drinks.

My TV’s hit the stage a little after 10pm. I’ve seen the name everywhere. If you are like me, and keep your head to the ground while walking around lost in your headphones, you’ve seen their spray painted stencil everywhere. It’s an effective promotional tactic. Their lead singer reminded Beach and I of Diego from Elefant without the obligatory Culkin’s that go with being Diego. My attention span was failing me, so I don’t want to subject you to some half assed recap of their sound, but I can tell you Beach lost a 6 month old bet.

Awhile back, maybe at a British Sea Power show, Beach and I had a discussion regarding drummers and their tendency to keep their shirts buttoned nearly to the top. Beach then set forth the challenge; if I found a drummer whose shirt was buttoned lower than anyone else in the band, a free tequila shot would grace my belly. Well my friends, last night I won that bet. The drummer from My TV’s (who swings his sticks around like he is in a cock rock band) had two buttons undone while the guitar player only had one.

After another drink and my contest ending tequila shot, Stevo called me in hopes of dragging me away to a bar. Despite my eagerness to catch the nice kids in WSC’s set, I was lured away from the Mercury by the news that Stevo was with his younger brother Pete who was visiting for a single night. Upon hitting the street, Pete gave me his phone to try and guide some girls to Welcome to the Johnson’s. They were Pace freshmen without I.D. so I decided to cut the chord by hanging up on them. With that off our conscious, we started drinking heavily and shooting pool with a few kids in the back. It’s always great seeing Pete because he exudes the little bit of white boy hustle we all keep inside. The kid is crafty, and once he finds out exactly how to make it, he will. I got tired of entertaining some old drunk who was covered in blood, so I cruised how with a loose swagger.

I’d like to apologize for all the jibber jabber today. My head is a mess and it’s obviously reflected in my poorer than usual prose. I’m going to go drink coffee in hopes of lifting the haze.

posted by jayloose at 12:41 PM 44 comments   

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I Just Need A Ch-Ch-Ch-Change.
While wasting time in my cube yesterday, I spent a good portion of the day surfing Friendster in search of kids from my home town. There are close to 10 kids from Clearfield Area High School who have signed up, but one in particular struck me as hilarious. One of my better friends from back in the day always had a girlfriend. We often figured it was because the kid was a sex fiend and he was constantly keeping the girls at bay with massive amounts of loving. Yesterday I found his former girlfriend on Friendster. Funny thing is, she went to college and became a lesbian. This peaked my interest because there were always a few people in school whose sexuality could be questioned, but it wasn't because if you were gay or a "fag" as the jocks would put it, you would get your ass kicked. It must have been extremely difficult to have those feelings in rural Pennsylvania, but I'm glad to see they found a community that's accepting of their sexual orientation.

P.S. Slop, if you read this, I'm sorry we haven't talked lately. I've been super busy. Give me a ring tonight is you get the chance.

You've Done Nothing For Me.
*** The Stills' show scheduled for October 9, 2004 at Webster Hall has been postponed. Don't fret because the Canadian boys plan to reschedule this in the near future. They suggest that you spend that evening getting wrecked in some bar.

*** Dylan does some promotion for the first volume of his autobiography. Who knew Dylan was a gun toting freak show? Nice ploy to solicit readers Robert. I like your style. I like your moves.

*** If you missed their big shows with Franz Ferdinand, don't get your trousers in a bunch. The Futureheads plan to return in November, and they'll be playing smaller clubs across the country.

*** Speaking of Franz, how did I miss the fact that Dan The Automator is producing their sophomore record? Head Arch Duke, Alex Kapranos, is also contributing to the Handsome Boy Modeling School record. This collaboration is blowing my mind.

*** Things go from bad to worse for Phil Spector. He was indicted on murder charges. It's crazy to think that he met this girl, took her home and then shot her in the face. Oh yeah, he also made some awesome Beatles records.

*** Wild on Paris. You'd think she would learn after the first couple public blow jobs. Now Paris Hilton has more sex on tape. I'm beginning to think she doesn't care, and its just another ploy to ensure that a large percentage of American men have jacked off to her at least once in their lives.

*** In my effort to bring Green Day back to the spotlight in my music catalog, I'm planning on buying tickets for their upcoming tour. A road trip to see Evan might be in order.

*** The Music hit the U.S. shores to promote their new record Welcome To the North that drops October 19th. The only problem is that Hope of States is headlining their scheduled show at Webster Hall.

*** Is U2 paying homage to their favorite directors with their upcoming album? Between the title of the record, How To Dismantle An Atomic Bomb and some of the track titles (Full Metal Jacket and the single Vertigo) it looks like they are offering love to Kubrick and Hitchcock. Have you heard the single yet? I'm digging on it (via Productshop).

*** Code-Heads. That's an interesting moniker. Thanks to a co-worker of mine, I've recently been enraptured by The Da Vinci Code. Finally, I'll be able to understand all the gibberish that's spewed from Hawkins' mouth over the past year. It may be pop-fiction, but dammit, it’s got me by the balls.

*** Now I don't mind Benjamin McKenzie diversifying his portfolio, but this better not take away from his role as Ryan. I can't wait for The O.C. to start!

*** The 46 year old Bud swigging, leg kicking Guided By Voices front man, Robert Pollard, clues us in on his major influences. My only question is Wire's 154 over Pink Flag; are you crazy?

*** It took two baby, but they don't care. The Black Keys discuss their new record with Chartattack. Unfortunately, I've yet to hear the new cuts, but I plan on picking up their cd this weekend.

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Paradox Of Moronic Proportions.
Saturday night found me sitting in the kitchen of 186 listening to records with Kyle and Dan as we wasted our evening playing cards and sipping PBR. The playlist started with the reissue of London Calling by The Clash (big ups to D. for hooking it) followed by some of The Modern Lovers self-titled record. The grand finally was a complete run through of The Beatles Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band which begins with one hell of a face melting riff. There is a point to this, so bear with me. As time ticked by and the working week crept ever closer, I realized the records that have been flooding my apartment aren’t anything special. Maybe more attention should be paid to the past greats rather than the future forgot me nots.

Fast forward 24 hours.

Sunday was a waste land. There was no way to prevent it. After a few big nights, my body wasn’t capable of its normal Sunday routine consisting of more football and PBR than most can stomach. After a wretched brunch, a less than productive meeting and various vices, I found myself stuck in the living room putting more of my catalog onto The Future. This brings my current inner dilemma. As I entered my dirty garage psyche portion of my collection onto The Future, I began to question how those records made it into my collection. The Soledad Brothers, The Go, The Warlocks, Dead Meadow and so on. These were part of a recent infatuation with a sound laced with fuzz and massive feedback. I tried to ask myself where this new obsession stemmed from. This invited me to dive deeper into the annexed portion of my discs.

(Un)Fortunately this confused me even more. As I ritualistically added all five of my Blink 182 records to The Future, a puzzling feeling crept over me. Surely these records had overstayed their welcome in my musical taste bank and for that matter, who the fuck owns five Blink 182 records? As a 23 year old young adult, there was a little man inside me trying to convince me that energetic pop punk of this SoCal trio couldn’t satisfy a bone in my body. Furthermore, am I not at the age where pee pee and poo poo jokes have lost their humorous luster? Despite these apprehensions I imported my high school favorites (and one 2001 purchase) onto the hard drive in hopes of putting them to rest in the vault of forgotten wet dreams and bedroom mosh pit simulations.

You better sleep on it.

On my walk into the office this morning, the Ipod shuffled through those five Blink 182 albums while I attempted to disband with my formidable tastes. After 5 or 6 songs (all of which I sung along to), I realized that these bands that most indie rock kids would think are shit, still have a special place in my heart. Their high energy, playful tunes will always have the ability to make me style. Is it nostalgia that prevents me from seeing the music snob light? Am I incapable of deciding what genre I should be filed under? To tell you the truth it doesn’t matter. These visits into my uncharacteristically wide spectrum of the musically beloved had an unnerving affect on me. Like most things in life, I can’t make a decision. I’m not the flip-flopper, but there is something strange in the fact that my tastes have yet to specialize.

Though my love for Blink 182 and there pop punk brethren (if you ask, I may tell) could never parallel my fondness for a certain teenage band, I now realize that my feelings for them will never fully dissipate. As my friends and acquaintances continue to subject me to a wealth of artists I may have missed, I’ve grown comfortable in the notion that if you feed me something it’s a safe bet your suggestion will get gobbled up.

That’s not to say I like everything.

posted by jayloose at 10:22 AM 2 comments   

Win A Date With Sam Champion!

Trampoline House Anniversary Party
Thursday, September 23, 2004
Featuring Sam Champion, Burnside Project & Summer Lawns
@ Pianos (Ludlow btwn Stanton & Rivington)
$8 / 21+ / $2 Red Stripes / $3 Vox Drinks

I'll see you toinight. Don't forget your checkbooks! Check him out!

Thanks to D. for the killer link to this guy's website. Check it.

posted by jayloose at 1:13 PM 3 comments   

posted by jayloose at 10:10 AM 0 comments   

End That’s Fitting For The Start.
Since I’m such a son-of-a-bitch and complain most of the time, I want to go on public record saying at this moment, at this very point in time, I feel pretty fucking good. This could change in a day. Hell, it could change in an hour, but right now things are finally coming together and life feels a bit easier. The biggest change has been my adherence to a newly imposed budget. With bills, birthdays, rent and food, developing a budget has been no easy task. Heaps of free burritos and nice people who score me rock shows (thanks to all of you who might read this), have helped me steady the murky financial waters of my early twenties, (at least until I have to start paying loans). Does this mean I’m loaded? Absolutely not. It means that I’m not dead broke three days before my next paycheck. Hopefully I can keep this up, but with Christmas around the corner, it could get difficult.

There are other reasons for me to smile these days, but who wants to kill a good thing?

You Should Quit Smoking.
Kyle and I met post work to indulge in some free burritos from Chipotle. If you haven’t wolfed down one of their ginormous burritos yet, give me a call and I’ll treat. It might not be Mary Ann’s, but they are free and filling, (free because I snaked so many coupons). We finished our hand held Mexican assassins and split. With a little time to kill, I cruised into Kim’s in hopes of finding Arcade Fire’s new record. It’s been awhile since I’ve combed the stacks of a record store (Saturday didn’t count), but it is a rejuvenating and somewhat disappointing process. Rejuvenating in the sense that you realize there are tons of new records needing a listen. Disappointing because a spending spree would destroy the aforementioned budget.

Around 6pm I walked up to Webster Hall to get my instructions for last nights show. The Canadian rock group Tragically Hip were headlining the gig with the Sam Robert's Band scheduled to kick off the evening. I’m still new to this process, but luckily there was assistance every step of the way. The people who work with the clubs really look out for their employees. Naturally, their top priority is the concert goers, but it feels like everyone understands that if their staff is cool, collected and in good spirits, it will heighten the overall experience.

Assigned to the guest list, I took my spot at the second door with my main men Willy and Steve. There was a bit of a wait before people started rolling it, but that gave me a chance to look over the lists only to find that Dan Ackroyd was set to make an appearance. As the show started, the kids began cruising in and the whole process went smoothly. It was a great crowd of people who were quite tame in their pursuit of the rock.

Once I was relieved of my duties, I went upstairs with Mia and Dan to check out The Hip. We ran into Beacheros and The Man who were enjoying what Noah called The Counting Crows of the North. They didn’t strike me as a copy of Duritz and the crew, but more of a Canadian version of R.E.M. The Michael Stipe comparison is obvious, but one thing I heard was some heavy Doors influence in their extended grooves. The Hip has been at it for awhile, and last night it felt like they still could bring it.

We cut out of Webster around 10:30pm and Mia drove Beacheros, Dan and I to the Bowery for the Metric show. With the hopes of catching some Death From Above 1979 we hustled into the club and gave a quick hello to Denise. By the time we got a drink and made our way to the back steps, they had finished so we said hello to Phoebe, Molly, Katie and Matt. It’s been ages since I last saw Miss Berta, and though we love to pick on each other, it’s always a distinct pleasure to catch up.

After finding our way to the back corner, Daylen, Tumblehawk, Lucy and Ilene (is that right?) joined us for the Emily Haines aka Metric show. While waiting for a drink I ran into Jo who was gushing about the DFA1979 set I just missed, (boooo). Then this hilarious guy started talking to me and was boasting that I was the guy who turned him on to Metric. At last year’s CMJ show featuring Broken Social Scene and Metric, this guy stood in the back and talked with me while his friend ogled over Emily. He went on to explain how his Haines obsessed threw pairs of Haynes at her during their last Mercury Lounge show.

They took the stage around 11pm and delivered their danceable indie pop to a sold out house. Visually they feel like the second coming of No Doubt, but their music is built upon a sturdy foundation of art school and deadpan vocal rants that occassionaly take the leap into melody. Metric is a band that’s wants you to relate to their songs no matter how obscure or off the wall Haines vocals may seem. They offset their tricky wordsmith accessible rhythms and a new wave guitar style that never gets to hard but doesn’t let up. The mix for Metric always feels off, but now I’m realizing it’s the importance of Haines lyrics that they want to showcase. The melodramatic Haines leaves nothing to chance as she ropes all onlookers and leads them through her subtle political agenda while the boys back her up with a façade fit for the kids.

After a five or so songs, I felt the sway creeping up on me so it was back to 186 for me where I hung out with my good friend Cap’t Morgan while watching Ashlee Simpson try to land Jimmy Fallon in prison.

So it’s been awhile, but this morning I was graced with a killer Ipod Shuffle that definitely warrants posting: Sex Pistols, Holiday In The Sun; Wire, Straight Line; Libertines, Can’t Stand Me Now; United States of America, Heresy; Gerling, Wacked Light; Otis Gayle, I’ll Be Around; The Walkmen, New Year’s Eve; Pixies, Where Is My Mind; Interpol, Obstacle 1; Ratatat, El Pico.

posted by jayloose at 9:35 AM 4 comments   

Yeah, You Got Options.

It's Wednesday already which means the work week is halfway over. You should go out and celebrate by checking out one of the many shows scheduled for tonight. P.S. I love Emily Haines of Metric. She should marry me.

1. Arbor Day w/ Of Montreal @ Northsix
2. Metric w/ Death From Above 1979 @ Bowery
3. Thee Shams @ (booooo) Sin-e
4. Group Sounds @ Luna Lounge

Make the most of hump day. Get out there and hump.

posted by jayloose at 2:52 PM 0 comments   

Down But Definitely Not Out.
First off, it needs to be noted that Noah is now talking in Borat. He drops the shit without even thinking and its adds a hilarious element to his established swagger. So if you know who Borat it, get ready to laugh, its Niiiiiiice. Speaking of Noah, Sam Champion has a couple gigs lined up in the coming days. Tomorrow night you best be checking:

Trampoline House Anniversary Party
Thursday, September 23, 2004
Featuring Sam Champion, Burnside Project & Summer Lawns
@ Pianos (Ludlow btwn Stanton & Rivington)
$8 / 21+ / $2 Red Stripes / $3 Vox Drinks

If you miss Thursday’s show at Pianos or if you are like me and can’t get enough of Sam Champion, set your sites on Brooklyn:

Sam Champion w/ The Zambonis
Friday, September 24, 2004
@ Freddy’s Bar & Backroom (485 Dean St, Bklyn)
FREE / 21 + / After Party @ Champion’s House

This should feed your need for Sam Champion until they resurface for a huge CMJ show at the Luna Lounge on October 15, 2004 with These Bones & The Giraffes.

Destined For Great Things.

Jin and Jeremy stopped by 186 after a long day at work. They were in the neighborhood pimping ASCAP at Vicious. They stopped in for a quick brew before Jeremy had to split back to the club while Jin and I ventured to Crash Mansion in hopes of winning a copy of The Clash’s reissued London Calling. While walking west on Rivington, I spotted a pair of Rottweilers who were busy looking tough together. I have this tendency to pet every dog that passes by and these Rottweilers were no exception. As we passed the pups, I patted the closest dog on the top of the head and said, “There you go Brutus.” In the next instant the owner jerked the dog’s chain and said, “Let’s go Brutus.” I immediately flipped out. I had guessed the dog’s name. My stoned ass freaked out and decided last night could only be awesome.

We met up with Noah outside of Crash Mansion and headed downstairs together. We were greeted by a table sporting the contest entries. At this instant I knew there was no way we were going to walk out with a copy of the record. We signed up and said hello to a couple kids from Epic one of which I met the previous evening at the Bowery. They were kind enough to buy us a drink as the Dj fumbled over the decks. They played the record too loud, then they over lapped two tracks, then silence and finally they brought it back to its too loud level. It was painful.

Sidenote: One of our student workers just hooked me up with a copy of Napoleon Dynamite. Hopefully Builder knows how to “unzip” a file and we can get to watching. Big ups to my main man Dave.

Have you ever been to Crash Mansion? It reminds me of a club I’ve never been to. Does that make sense? Allow me to clarify. It feels like something from a movie (i.e. the stone behind the bar, the low ceilings & the name plates all over the club). Someone should start throwing blow out parties there with hookers, piles of blow and everything else that made the early 80’s so awesome.

There was also a kid asking us questions for some class he is taking at NYU. Noah took the brunt of the questioning and went as far as telling the kid he only heard about Crash Mansion because one of the security guards raped a girl in the V.I.P. area. Recognizing that we weren’t quote worthy, the dude left us alone to finish our beers and make a hasty exit.

Jo Divestar met us on the corner of Prince and Bowery (is that a real corner) and we went to Inotecca to catch some grub, (Thanks Jin!). We slammed some wine and I had a delicious proscuitto, tomato, pesto panini. Dinner was a bit of a shit show, but we had heaps of fun. I just wish Jo didn’t think I was anti-gay. I love gay. In fact, after all the talk about “cockles and balls” who couldn’t love gay?

As we walked to Rothko, Noah insisted on stopping at 186 for a quick cocktail before going into the club. I didn’t want to miss Cloud Room so I forged ahead without them. Upon entering the club, I ran into Audrey who told me they were a band behind so it was back to 186 with me. Kyle was in the kitchen getting his pirate on with Brian, Jin and Noah. He had some special mojito Builder whipped up for him, but I didn’t feel like fucking around so it was Captain and Coke for this guy.

After a quick drink, we shot back over to Rothko. By the time Cloud Room took the stage Noah and I were getting antsy. Unfortunately, Cloud Room had some serious problems with their synthesizer which substantially delayed the start of their show. With that handicap working against them the Brooklyn four-piece took the stage and played some unimpressive rock. If it wasn’t for their rhythm section holding them together, I think they would have fallen apart. It isn’t my style to completely bash a band because if anything, they have the walnuts to get up on a stage and share their creation, but Cloud Room didn’t do it for me. There seems to be a decent foundation, but they should hole up and practice the hell out of their songs so they can get comfortable with a sound. Once they perfect their craft, they may have something of value, but last night, Noah and I had a tough time finding anything. After a few songs it was time to go.

posted by jayloose at 12:52 PM 0 comments   

Would You Like Fries With That?
Hmmm… Could I be doomed to a life in customer service? This becomes more evident with every passing day. Yesterday I was devoted to helping “customers” for nearly 12 straight hours. Naturally, it all started in the office and progressed into me being a jackass. My jackass tendencies came in the form of being a let down. This is nothing new for a guy like me (neither is self deprecation), but I had to cancel a meeting with some kids because they needed me to pull a shift at the Bowery last night.

So Kyle and I mowed through our weekly dosage of Papa Johns before I said farewell and walked to the club. Epic’s Chevelle was scheduled to play a big label show so they put me on 2nd door. Fortunately the Bowery security staff is comprised the nicest guys around, and if you think differently, it’s probably because you spit beer on someone causing them to toss your ass. On the double fortunate, a couple of ladies from Epic hung out with me for the slow parts of the evening making sure their big guns had no problem getting in. It was quite a welcomed pleasure. Mia and some of the other crew were kicking about, so all in all I got hooked up to hang out. Sweet deal.

After my shift I went into see what Chevelle was all about. They definitely aren’t my brand of cigarette, but the kids seemed to like them. File under New Jersey rock. With a solid evening in the books I walked up Orchard in hopes of stopping at Atomique, but I couldn’t find the damn bar. It was back to the 186 for football and Kyle conversation. That kid can talk.

Tonight!!! Go to Crash Mansion for your chance to listen to the London Calling reissue (check out the info on Jinners) and then head to Vicious at Rothko to see Cloud Room.

posted by jayloose at 3:40 PM 0 comments   

Go Forth And Purchase.
Today marks the reissue of one of the greatest records ever pressed. In 1979 Joe Strummer and the boys unleashed a monster in the form of a double LP on the hungry English public. The record changed the face of all things punk. It pushed the boundaries of artistic expression in a scene built upon simplicity. Back in 1995 I was first introduced to the Clash by a good friend of mine. Not fully understanding the impact of the record I fell in love with tracks like the dance infused Train in Vain and Lost in the Supermarket. There was also a strong attraction to the rockabilly track Brand New Cadillac where they take a queue from the dwindling rocker scene and prove they could play it all. When speaking of their broad musical spectrum one must mention Strummer and Jones' fondness for dub and reggae which shines through on Guns of Brixton. While listening to this record throughout the years, I've noticed that it wasn't just the songs and the attitude; it was the feeling that punk rock was limitless. It was no longer reserved for snotty kids with safety pins in their noses. It took away from the fashionista aspect of the movement and reinforced the fact that this specific subculture epoch would be defined by the musical foundation it was built upon.

Today, Epic resurrects a welcomed demon from our past in the form of a three cd reissue of the classic album. It includes the "Vanilla Tapes" which are demos and studio sessions from the recording process for London Calling. They have also included a third disc DVD documentary on the making of the record. I see a purchase in your near future.

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posted by jayloose at 2:54 PM 3 comments   

Toned Down By The Tone Deaf.
Say it with me now: J-E-T-S, Jets, Jets, Jets. This was another great weekend for my sports teams. Notre Dame is on the verge of getting a Top 25 ranking after their win over Michigan State, (props to the Irish for making the Michigan teams their bitch). The Jets are 2-0 after a nervous victory over the Charges, (the defense needs to play all four quarters). Finally, the slumping Yankees returned to mid-season form against the Boston Shit-Stains. With all the questions involving their pitching, the Yankee hurlers silenced critics save our ace-in-the-hole, Mo who blew the game on Friday night.

Culkin Gets Culkined.
Thanks to all of you who sent me an email regarding the arrest of the Culkin to end all Culkins. Our beloved Culkin was arrested for pot possession. Nice to know our man keeps it green.

Turn My Headphones Up.
Do you know what can ruin a club experience no matter how great the band is? Well, keep reading and I’ll let you know. Alistair, Builder, Howerton and I eased into Friday night with some Spanish Tapas at some joint called Olivas on Houston Street. The crab bisque was delicious, but the rest of the food was overpriced and poorly spiced. After a quick run through the rain, we made it back to 186 for some hang time prior to going out. As my budget grows ever tighter (I actually had a nightmare about paying my student loans), I’m realizing the importance of pregaming more so than ever before. Eventually Jin and D.O.P. minus Erica stopped by the house to have a chat and drink some beers.

The evening pressed on under the guidance of PBR and Sparks. Most of the kids went on their way, but George stuck around as we waited for the witching hour. Leah, Cami and Dan popped in to eat some pistachios and have a beer. Around 11pm we walked over to Sin-e to catch The Head Set’s gig. They were already a few songs into their set when we arrived. They looked and sounded tight, but there was a major problem. The mix was ear bleeding loud. I’m not talking about something that was just pushed to 11. They were playing at 14 or something ridiculous. It ruined the set for me because it was so unbearable. The sound (wo)man needs to realize this because they are integral in the creation of a positive experience, and they definitely didn’t hold up their end of the bargain. Like I said their music sounded good and they had a great stage presence, but it was overshadowed by the poor mix.

During their set Stevo and Yappers showed up with the West Coast Transplant known simply as Moser. He flew in on Friday and his surprise attack was quite welcome. Who would ever think that some company would fly Moser across the Continental U.S. of A. for “bizzness”? He was in top form as they took off before Film School had a chance to play. With the buzz surrounding Film School, I wasn’t going to take off before seeing some of their set. The San Francisco boys impressed me despite the same problems as The Head Set. The vocals felt like the weak link, but I’m sure they’ll improve as the band matures. The foundation is set for this band to become a West Coast representative of the style that meshes the indie droning of Ambulance Ltd with experimentation new comers Dirty On Purpose.

After the set I combed the area for some Sparks. It dawned on me that I was hammered, and walking around drinking Sparks from a straw wasn’t my best idea, so I stood on the corner of Ave B and 4th Street pounding the sweet nectar. With a newly buzzed head, I cruised into Ace Bar where a large crew had assembled. My wife came into town this weekend. If you didn’t know, I got married a few years ago to a nice southern bell named Lindsay. We are so cute together, so it’s a shame we don’t see more of each other. After a couple games of pool we shot up to Bside to drink some Tequila with Beach, Daylen and the ever so cute Wendy. My night started to blur so I removed myself from the potentially volatile situation and went home to sleep in my jeans.

Deep Fried And Pie Eyed.
Oh glorious Saturday, let me love you. Did you hear the storm around 8am on Saturday morning? All of the racket woke me up so I slid out of bed to take a piss only to find Kyle and Dee performing their interview process on the unsuspecting Rudy. I’ve never met two people that could match the party ability of Kyle and Dee. Fortunately, they are both championship sleepers, so recovery is never a problem. For some reason I couldn’t fall back asleep so I sat up reading until John, Alistair and Builder woke up for brunch. After a wait in the hurricane induced winds, we got a familiar table at Clinton Street Bakery. My quest to taste everything on their menu lead me to the Tunafish sandwich that was a-ok, but it couldn’t stand up against the Spanish Scramble.

During lunch Builder got worked up about taking advantage of the wind in terms of kite flying, so we decided to make a trip out to Prospect Park. Unfortunately the weather turned on us while we crossed the bridge, so instead we stopped by Academy Records on North 6th Street in the ‘Burg. God damn those record stores who don’t cater to those without turntables, but I have to say, if you work with vinyl you should go waste an afternoon at this store. We came back into the city and gave an old fuck you to the rest of the day.

My evening began with some dinner indecision. First stop, Max’s, where Lindsay and Hawkins were up for the hour table wait. Since I’m impatient and wanted to get my night started as early as possible, I met up with Builder, Miriam and Katriona for some sushi at Jeollado on 4th Street. This place was great. Excellent specialty rolls and big cans of Sapporo. I previously thought it was an extremely hip place that over charged its hipster clientele, but that assessment was way off. The price tag won’t break the bank and the food kicks Jackie Chan’s ass, (wait, I believe he is Chinese).

Following our A+ meal, we stopped into the Mud Spot that was celebrating their 1-Year Anniversary with a party in their newly expanded garden space. As we walked up to the café Kyle’s boss, Greg, came storming by with a few dudes, but I didn’t think much of it. When we got to the backyard, we realized Greg had gone in search of the jerk who was hosing down the party from a neighboring back yard. Um… Hello, Fuckhead, it’s only 10:30pm and you have the walnuts to hose down a group of people before taking any other action? After the rain stopped, we made our way to the bar. Ian was manning the operation and took good care of the loyal drinkers. Beers were cheap and spirits were high. The entire Mud Crew including Rudy, Scott, Liz, Rachel, Nina and Gretchen were rocking out deep into the night. Kyle made a point to introduce me to every girl in attendance, which in retrospect was more of an effort than I ever make.

As the night progressed, our friends started to poor into the back. First there was Cami, (a Red Bull crazed) Leah, Erin and Dan who were followed by Moser and Stevo. Then came the Champaign wielding Hawkins who arrived my wife. We continued getting sloppy (especially when the 2nd keg showed up), until 2am rolled around and Greg had to throw the hammer down. Congratulations to Mud Industries in their continued success. If you aren’t a fan of their java yet, go have a mocha.

We ended the evening back at the 186 in the smoke filled kitchen. Kyle, Dee, Erin and Dan were once again the late night champions.

The next morning I got some brunch with Builder and Lindsay at my favorite scallop spot, Essex. After the solid meal, Builder and I went to Howerton’s Dad’s apartment to watch the games in high definition. Chris has a crackhead dog named Rocco who was pretty fun to have around even with his spaz qualities. Rob, Beach and Daylen came through for the Jets game while Miriam and Katriona showed up in time for the feast.

Though it felt awfully short, we logged a solid weekend filled with good times.

Is This It?

Shit yeah it is. Audrey aka Melody Nelson aka that cute French girl is hosting another Atomique party this evening at Eleven. Tonight she booked the Tarts of Pleasure to spin you all the rock and soul that makes both sides of the Atlantic swoon. Check it.

This reminds me... My apologies the Stammers for not making it to Trash on Friday and to Dennis of the Sons of Sound for not making it to Sin-e on Saturday, (after Friday's experience, I don't know if I'll be back).

Oh and before I forget: Field Gay, round 2.

And Mom, if you made it home safely from your hurricane dodging, give your son a call. He's worried about you.

posted by jayloose at 1:55 PM 6 comments   

posted by jayloose at 2:28 PM 7 comments   

A New Day Is Dawning.
God bless Rosh Hashanah. Since most of you Hebrews out there were celebrating the New Year yesterday, my office was quite slow which made it a day for me to catch up on some paperwork, (I’m such a fucking herb). Upon entering 186 after the quiet work day, I was startled by Adiera who was in the kitchen preparing harvest food for the roommates holiday dinner. She baked up an apple pie that could rival most I’ve seen. She kept me company until I retired to my bedroom to finish up a recent rental.

As I sat in bed watching the piss-take of a film titled Elephant, I couldn’t help but think that Gus Van Sant was capitalizing on the numerous tragedies throughout the country. The film felt so self effacing and extremely transparent. Van Sant allowed his camera to do most of the talking which was a poor decision on his part. The steady cam work in the hallways of the school was so nauseating, not because of the continuous movement, but because it didn’t lead you anywhere. The see-through character development barely broke the surface of any character, and it didn’t emotionally attach the viewer to anyone in the story. The non-linear nature of the movie may have been the only redeeming quality of the film. Seeing the characters lives woven together through a series of scenes shot from different p.o.v.’s was a nice touch, but then again, it didn’t matter because I simply didn’t care. I’ve been a big fan of Van Sant’s previous work, (My Own Private Idaho, To Die For and Good Will Hunting) but Elephant was downright terrible. Gus, please stop with the fancy camera work and concentrate on the story.

Unfortunately, I’m the type of person that allows horrible films and emotional films to affect my attitude. That’s great news for the filmmaker, but it threw a wrench in my game. Luckily Chernin showed up and we hit the kitchen for another installment of breakfast for dinner. For a jew, Noah sure can cook up some wicked bacon, (I stole that line frome K-money). Kyle did the toast while I rocked the potatoes and eggs. We feasted like kings. Adira hooked us up with some caramelized apple crisps for desert that were so tasty. With a solid meal down the hatch, Noah and I stopped by the Mercury for a quick drink with Beach before walking over to the Bowery.

Modest Mouse In NYC: Take Two.
Last night the stars were aligned because I was lucky enough to get invited to the Rolling Stone party at the Bowery Ballroom. Miller sponsored the event so there was free MGD and Miller Lite all night long. We picked up Ryan Champion and DTL on our way into the venue and after a 15 minute wait we had our first beer. Beach commented on how psyched he was to see everyone in the Bowery double fisting cups of beer. He couldn’t have been more right. While Wolf Parade bounced through a herky-jerky set, everyone aimed to get sauced before the main event. There isn’t much to be said about Wolf Parade except for the one legged Moonwalk their guitar pulls off when he’s singing. When Wolf Parade was finishing up, we popped up the stairs so I could see the Moonwalk from the backside angle. While we were on the steps, Issac came down, and his size surprised me. For a man with such a powerful and commanding stage presence, he is just a small guy. He looks like he could kick some ass if needed.

After their set we ran into Joey and Robin who looked fabulous and poised for the Modest Mouse set. Daylen, Beach and I decided to warm up with a monstrous tequila shot that nearly had me puking. The Bowery was rocking some L.E.S. mixtape that included The Walkmen, The Rapture, Interpol, Bloc Party and The Killers. It felt like a little piece of home.

Now it was time for the main event. Modest Mouse took the stage in the same fashion as the previous evening except the stage didn’t accommodate them as comfortably. They played a similar set, but they mixed it up a bit. They kicked things off with my favorite track 3rd Planet and then rocked out Black Cadillac. The View also came quite early which was another welcomed treat. They also hit us off with a rousing rendition of Paper Thin Walls. They played all the hits from the new album and had me bopping for a solid hour and a half.

The Mouse was kind enough to grace us with an encore. Ryan, Noah and I made our way to the third row of kids and gladly watched them close the set with The Good Times Are Killing Me. Ryan’s love for the percussionist had me in stitches. We were all quite sauced and stuck around talking Chilis with Mia while she gawked at the Melvins drummer. After another round of beers I walked home and called it a day.

Notes From The Underground.
*** This is grrrrrreat news for all of us with bikes. Thieves now know how to break into U-Locks. Fuck dude, just leave us alone.

*** Beck doesn't want you to dance... yet. He put a hold on his new record until 2005. Bummed? You bet.

*** The Super Freak was super fucked. Rick James went out in rockstar style; old and druged up.

*** This is strange because I can't figure out if anyone cares?

*** So Dan and Yackie Boy have been raving about this record for quite some time. I may have to give Swedish metal a chance.

*** A great piece on the fallen hero, Johnny Ramone.

*** At this rate, the Strokes will never put out a new record. Julian wasn't happy with the quality of the master so he scrapped the live release.

*** And finally, having big tits can get you in trouble.

*** One more Pitchfork link for you. They are eatting up Bloc Party and rightfully so. I enjoyed this blub about their track especially the DFA name check.

posted by jayloose at 10:22 AM 2 comments   

I Got Mad Hits. Like Rod Stewart.
That’s not right, is it? Yeah. So this idea of laying low due to limited access to financial backing, (read: I’m poor) never really panned out. Monday was successful, but Tuesday refused to let me pull the same Bail’n shit the previous evening afforded me. It began with a breakfast for dinner cooked by moi. If you are not a practitioner of this flip-flop, (not in the dirty democratic sense) of meals then get on the hook because its mucho deliciouso. After dinner I walked over to Mercury Lounge to check out Chris Howerton’s band, Fighterpilot. While waiting for Christie to show up, Jeannie entertained me with her stories of moving to Harlem and massive back scars which were actually tiny.

It was like a Westchester reunion in the club. There were so many hot, rich girls with awesome butts in attendance. Good work Chris. It was nice a chance to talk to Denise who was working the show room bar. Denise along with some other friends are heading to Austin this weekend for the Austin City Limits Festival. These lucky ones will see Wilco, The Pixies, Franz Ferdinand and Modest Mouse in a few days time. After a quick drink Fighterpilot hit the stage and played a set of radio friendly rock. Though it my not be my particular brand of cigarette, Chris’ band is extremely effective and awfully tight. It’s made up of a group of Berkeley music kids and you can definitely hear the influence of four years in the sunshine state. At the close of the set, Beach, Alistar, Builder, Michelle and I partook in a Tequila Tuesday tradition as old as the Killers popularity.

With my head beginning to spin, I managed to coax Christie into joining me on a trip over to Rothko to check out Hal and Jason’s band, The Morning After. Upon arrival we were met by the couple about town, Audrey and Dennis who are always a pleasure to see. Audrey even commented on my ballistic nature on the dance floor at last weeks MisShapes party. I couldn’t help but blush. Dennis, the always inoffensive self-promoter, reminded me of the Sons of Sound gig this Saturday at Sin-e. You should add this to your weekend agenda because this band will continue to grow behind the charisma and song writing ability of their refreshingly earnest front man.

The Morning After began to pour out of the sound system so Christie and I grabbed a drink and made way for the front. I have to say my reaction to their tunes was quite good. It reminded me of my first time seeing Walk Humongous. Maybe its time to dive right back into punk rock and forget all this indie bullshit, but I’m going to take my time making the transition. They were a lot of fun, and though I can see and hear the Stooges comparison, I won’t let them get off that easy. There were certain points where their rhythm section had the dark beauty of Joy Division. It wasn’t flashy, particularly from behind the kit, but the bassist made me stand at attention on several occasions. Some of their down tempo numbers reminded me of Vietnam or the Soledad Brothers while Jason’s guitar playing had a straight up art punk feeling especially when he backed it with spastic dance moves. Hal pranced around the stage and made me smile with his solid banter. I was altogether impressed and will definitely see them again.

Christie and I checked out the wine bar Inoteca post show. We shared some scrumptious white wine and an antipasto platter that reminded me of the stuff Momma Belin dishes out at Christmas. MMMMmmmm…. Tastes like nostalgia.

Laugh Hard It’s A Long Way To My Pants.
Modest Mouse is top of the pops and if you were in attendance last night, then you know what I’m talking about. But let’s not get ahead of ourselves. The night was fruitful and hopefully this recap proves the same.

On my walk home from the office I ran into Beach and we discussed the giant crew that we were rolling with last night. After picking up some dinner at Tiny’s I headed home to chill out for a hot minute before the door started swinging. It started with Noah and Jin who were followed by Hawkins, Alister, Mike, Del, Allie, Tim, Katie (aka Shaniqua), Vahad, Rob and Sean Bones. If someone is missing, my apologies. We sat around the house listening to records and slugging beers in giddy anticipation of our trip to Webster Hall. At the 11th hour we hit the streets and ran into Christina (Happy 22nd Bday Blondie!) who was joining the mass of kids for the show. While walking up to the venue I spotted a couple Strokes standing outside of the movie theater with some hot blonde. All of a sudden Kyle walks right up to her and starts talking. I didn’t get the story, but that reminds me… I need to ask him.

Anyway, upon our entry to the club we were greeted by the likes of Tumbleweed, Daylen, Jomo, Lucy, Mia, Oveis!!!, Jo Divestar, Eric Say Hi, Doug DoP, Ry RANA, Pooja, Emma, Denise, Ramie, Kristen, Gerard, Phoebe and I’m sure the list goes on. Like I said, a huge crew was assembled. If anything, this aspect of the show made it fantastic. Going to see an amazing band with a huge group of friends is a feeling like none other. Everyone is there for the same reasons: get drunk, rock out and see a great band. We were all in sync last night.

After a couple beers Issac and the crew took the stage and pounded out a fantastic set. Though the mix sounded a bit better last time through, I thought last night’s show was fantastic. It was also my first trip to Webster under the Bowery Presents banner and you could tell the kids are making strides with this venue. Beers were knocked down a couple bucks since the Franz show, security wasn’t nearly as dick and there were heaps of great kids in the house. The venue is also a really interesting place to see a show. It has such an old school feel to it much like the Orpheum in Boston. You feel like at any point you could stumble upon a secret passage that will lead you to hidden treasure.

Anyway, Modest Mouse played a wealth of new material that included, Ocean Breaths Softly, The View, Dance Hall and Float On. My personal highlight was Paper Thin Walls. They played it early and it got me so hyped for the rest of the set. From that moment on I was a sweaty hopscotching mess. Rightfully so. They did a version of Doin the Cockroach that wasn’t very impressive. I was so psyched upon hearing the first note of this song, and then it didn’t deliver. Nonetheless, we continued to rock all the way to their 3rd Planet finale that made me smile like I won the lotto. After some serious noise from the crowd the boys came back out for an encore that included a great run through of Once Chance and an extended jam version of Cowboy Dan, (thanks for clearing that up Noah). They were truly a spectacle. Issac’s flair for the dramatic can’t help but make you want to throw down. He is guided by a serious passion for his craft that is evident in his stage presence.

After the show we hung around outside the venue for a bit before I made the call to hit up Cherry Tavern. A drink and a tequila shot later (thanks Eric) and I was home watching a film. I’ve had two amazing nights in a row, and if things work out tonight, you will be hearing about one more tomorrow.

Until then, good luck and god speed. Only 8 more working hours till the weekend.

posted by jayloose at 3:40 PM 7 comments   

And Then There Was One.

Cami just sent me the link to the CNN announcement of Johnny Ramone's death. If you never played air guitar or bopped alone in your bedroom to one of his accessibly catchy riffs, then you should do yourself proud by going home after work and kicking it out for our fallen brother. RIP Johnny, you changed the course of modern music simply by being yourself. We should all be so lucky.

posted by jayloose at 9:34 AM 3 comments   

Give Kerry A Chance.

Since the Republicans left our fair city we've seen the polls slowly turn to show Bush as the projected favorite. This has spawned many doubters and after reading some stories I had to agree, but let's not get down. If we are to take back the White House, we need to stay focused and positive.

Oveis makes this point without even trying. Check out the article he quoted this morning.

posted by jayloose at 12:56 PM 4 comments   

posted by jayloose at 12:22 PM 0 comments   

Some Crackers With That Cheese?

So I'm guessing most of you weren't watching the Green Bay Packers dismantle the Carolina Panthers on Monday Night Football. What you missed, besides the deranged banter of John "Totally Mad" Madden, was a Beastie Boys half time segment that spliced clips from the production of their new video with football highlights. Now I am a huge advocate of indie jocks (minus the frat aspect), but this was just bogus. The Beastie Boys used to have youthful exuberance that characterized a movement and bridged the gap between suburban kids and hip hop. Then they were responsible for using their celebrity for creating awareness regarding certain injustices plaguing the globe. What have they become? A group of old men who are more worried about their children's trust funds then creating powerful music. Are we all doomed to this plight?

Additionally, Modest Mouse's track Float On was used during one of their cut to commercial segments. Bring on the big bucks. As Jay-Z once said, "Thugs hating cuz we getting money like athletes."

posted by jayloose at 8:59 AM 2 comments   

Lucky You.

How is there still tickets available for the Modest Mouse show on Wednesday at Webster Hall. Are you not aware of the brilliant music they create? I'm serious folks. Is it because you are religious folk? Its only a matter of time before this concert sells out, but who would have thought tickets would last this long? They just sold out two nights at a venue twice this size and the ticket price wasn't $20. I don't get it sometimes. Yeah, they just played, but does that really stop us from going to see one of our generation's best bands? Apparently.

Now go to this link with your loyal indie rock love on your sleeve and purchase your tickets. Put God aside for an evening and embrace the rock. This is the last time I tell you sonny, (shaking my finger at you).

posted by jayloose at 7:52 AM 0 comments   

Look At His Face. What Do You See?
My neck hurts. As I sit here in my designated cube, I’m in massive pain. Someone give me a damn massage. Maybe I’ll see if Denise needs some practice for an up coming exam, but either work needs to be done, stat. My complaint is somewhat illegitimate because the pain was self-imposed. If anyone is to blame, it’s Audrey, Sarah and Karen who had me shaking my ass on Saturday night. Pain killers will be necessary, and I may even scold Audrey tonight at her Faint listening Party.


Whitney Is My Drinking Muse.
This weekend rekindled my love affair with the weekend. It was filled with fabulousness from start to finish. It began Friday when Builder and I sat around practicing our cover of Weezer’s, The Sweater Song. We were sitting around in our underwear playing Weezer. Life can be so sweet some times. Speaking of Sweet, Mr. Whitney Sweet showed up at my doorstep sometime after 7pm. He joined Dan, Noah, Mike, Builder and I on a trip to Motor City to have a couple beers while Dj Del played us some choice cuts and I starred at the gorgeous bartender.

We packed it in after a few drinks and headed back to 186 to continue the bevy intake until it was time for the Mercury Lounge. A few beers later and my head was feeling the effects of my empty stomach. Despite the impending doom of a stomach full of beer with little or no food to soak it up, we stopped by the Mercury to catch Dirty on Purpose’s set. Unfortunately we were misinformed in regards to their set time. We managed to see the last few songs of the set from the back corner. Jin, Beach, Daylen, Tumbleweed, Lucy and some other kids were there enjoying the rock. Following the show Whitney, me and a third person who I’m having trouble remembering jumped into a cab and headed to Trash Bar.

We were greeted by Max and Stevo who were standing post outside of Trash guiding the kids into the club. There were heaps of kids there (at least it felt like it) ready to welcome Stevo into the Walk Humongous family. Its great seeing other bands come out to support the cause, (i.e. Surveyor Pue, The Stammers, The Head Set and so on). The band ripped the crowd open and the back room became a beer soaked mess. I was on the wrong side of a massive Culkin, but it didn’t matter because I was tossed. As hard as I’ve tried, I can’t recall much of the set outside of Builder taking swigs of my beer and spitting as much as possible on Max while I tossed my empty beer cans at them. Their cover of Iggy and the Stooges, I Wanna Be Your Dog had us up in arms. Someone even picks up a bag of empty bottles and threw them on Max. Good times. Stevo informed me that Walk Humongous recorded on Sunday so get ready for some epic tracks.

With my hunger and Whitney in tow, we shot back to Manhattan for some shots at a random bar and way to much pizza. The evening can be recapped in the fact that Whitney thought we were still in Brooklyn while we walked up Clinton Street.

Cause That’s My Fun Day.
Saturday started with me waking up in the previous evening’s clothes and rallying Whitney and Builder for some brunch. We met up with Sean Bones at Clinton Street Bakery and after a long wait we feasted in fashion. Everyone scored sweet breakfasts and we were now able to welcome the day with open arms.

After Whitney introduced me to the piss-you-pants humor of Ali G, Christina came by the house with her friend Kaley. Christina, Builder and I managed to have an extremely productive meeting while Noah kept Whitney company in the living room. By the time we finished our business it was time to grab dinner. Because I want to spread the love, Noah, Del and I took Whit to Boca Chica for a mojito and some coconut shrimp. My weekly crack fix was placated.

It was back to 186 for a serious hang and more Ali G before rolling out to the keg party. We had to be nice a tricky because Dee and Kyle had stopped in prior to their dinner date. By 9pm we had assembled a crew that included Builder, Noah, Miriam, Whit, Jordan, Stevo, Tim, Adam Roth (who is my link to the Olsen twins) and maybe a couple more. We rolled up 1st Ave, hopped on the L Train and were welcomed to the party by Louis, Dano, Erin, Leah, Cami and Elise. We got our drink on for a solid hour before the Maid of Honor showed up with the boyfriend of the year. Dee was genuinely surprised thanks to the efforts of Kyle and all those involved.

Kids continued to trickle into the party and at some point Jin and Juliet rolled through. We walked to a deli hoping to find some vino for the ladies and some Red Bull for the boys. Instead of downing a Red Bull, I decided to lose my Sparks virginity. If you haven’t heard, Sparks is some sort of malt liquor energy drink that cracked me out more than pure Columbian cocaine. My head was spinning and Whitney wanted to dance so we accompanied Juliet and Jin on a trip to Misshapes.

Juliet pulled some sort of string that helped us snake our way past the huge line for the party. Once inside we headed straight for the bar. While waiting for my vodka tonic, Dennis sped by with Jarvis at his side. I may be a straight man (as are they), but those boys looked glorious together. This was the only look I scored of the Pulp prophet. Much to my dismay, we missed the set Jarvis and Steve Mackey laid down. We made way for the dance floor that was shaking like crazy because of Melody’s work on the decks. As if that wasn’t enough, the Tarts of Pleasure hit the decks and played some of my favorite tracks, (including Queen and mucho Bloc Party). The room was packed, the dance floor was crazy and my head was spinning. Hawkins, Tony and Kahn showed up and got down for a bit. The entire party was tons of fun, and mi thinks I’ll be gracing it again soon.

We finally got Whitney to leave the party despite his drunken belief that some girl was coming back to make out with him. The boy could barely stand up, but who was I to stand in his way. Luckily we managed to trick him into thinking we were doing shots downstairs, and we pushed him out the door.

Following the party, Hawkins, Jin, a passed out Whitney and I cruised back out to Brooklyn. Life drastically changes when there is an automobile in the picture. We returned to the kegs to find Dan, Dee, Kyle, Mike, Christie and a few others wasting the night away. We sat in the backyard until the sun came up and then we shot back over the bridge. We dropped Whitney off (read: I carried him up the stairs and threw him one the couch) and had to shoot up to Times Square where Tony was dealing with some girl drama. After a quick drop, we went to Hawkins place to drink wine and play spin the bottle. Yes, we played spin the bottle and I have no regrets except for the fact that the Hawkins managed to slip his tongue in my mouth.

Around noon, Kyle, Dee and I took a surreal walk down Avenue B back to 186 where Builder was getting up to go watch football. We also managed to wake up Whitney who was a bit out of sorts but proud of our partying. I managed to lay down around 12:30 and caught a few hours of sleep.

God. Family. Football.
Fuck Maslow’s Hierarchy of needs. He was way off. When I was a young chap navigating through the murky waters of Catholic School and small town minds, my life revolved around three things: my insane belief in religion, my love for my family and a serious passion for football. Though the first in this trilogy has long been subdued, the other fires are still burning brightly. With the NFL football season now in full swing, my life has added purpose.

Before I forget, big ups to T.W. and the Irish for their huge dismantling of Michigan in the fourth quarter. All hail Notre Dame. Too bad we lost to BYU the first week of the season.

Anyway, I woke up after logging 2 hours of sleep and watched the 2nd half of the Jets game. For any of you who may doubt Curtis Martin and his veteran status, take a look at his numbers; 196 yards on the ground to compliment his two touchdowns. The boy can play. After the game I watched a bit of the Giant beating at the hands of the Eagles. Christie and I met at Blockbuster and wasted our late afternoon watching Head of State. Could someone please give Tracy Morgan a job? He is a funny fucker. Who sells meat out of a gym bag? The movie was rubbish, but I’m a sucker for Bernie Mac. We closed the weekend with Builder and some Japanese food.

What a riot! Its weekends like this one that make me love NYC.

*** A quick news bit: Pete says, "You complete me," and Karl agrees. Let's hope he can stay off the smack until the Webster Hall show.

posted by jayloose at 2:16 PM 2 comments   

Tired. I Don't Want To Hear It.

So once again it's Friday. Work weeks don't even feel like weeks anymore. Its more like one extended blur of shows, drinks, projects and self loathing. Either way, we fight through it for this most glorious of days. Without further hesitation, I'd like to present to you the weekend.

First on the agenda, Dj Del is doing his Friday afternoon segue into the evening at Motor City. There is cheap PBR and a promise from Del (did you get that email?) that he will play your favorite song. He claims my taste in music doesn't span much further than, "freshmen bitches." He must have overheard me at the Shins show last night.

First things first. Tonight Dirty On Purpose is rocking your world at the Mercury Lounge. They hit at 10:30pm, but if you don't have a ticket, get there early because this son-of-a-bitch will sell out. Whitney will be present. Thanks for the picture Jin!


Then we pack it into a cab and make way for Trash Bar in the Burg. Tonight Walk Humongus is welcoming a new member. Stevo will be bringing the noise on guitar. I can't wait to see his chops.

After the show we are going to kick it at Union Pool. Someone should call and give me directions. It's in celebration of Eric's Birthday, (Say Hi to Your Mom). I think he is 46 or something, but even though he's an old man, he still retains the fever of a 16 year old.

Holy Shit. More Kegs?
With Friday mapped out in serious detail, the canvas for Saturday night has barely been brushed. There are various options, but most importantly we have Dee's birthday to celebrate. How are we fixing to pull this off? With a surprise Keg Party of course. Kyle assured me that Dee does not read the blog, (and apparantly most of my close friends have given up on it) so I'm free to post the information regarding her party on GTR. Be there by 9:30pm for the 10pm surprise. Check out the details on how to get to Danielle and Erin's house:

La Casa de Erin & Dizzy
149 Powers Street - Rear hosue (bottom buzzer)
Brooklyn, NY 11211

VIA TREN:
- take the L to the the Graham stop - third stop in Brooklyn
(note correction) - take the exit to your right when leaving the station
- when you get onto the street, amke your immediate right onto Graham Ave.
- walk three blocks to Powers Street - make a right
- 149 Powers Street is on the right side of the street
- ring the bottom buzzer - rear house

VIA COCHE:
- Williamsburg Bridge - stay in the right lanes
- take the second exit - South 5th St. exit
- at the first light take a left and then take a right at the next light
- go straight on Borinquin - Borinquin eventually tuirns into Grand Street
- turn left onto Graham Ave - you'll see a Payless Shoestore on the corner
- make your fiorst left onto Powers Street.
- 149 Powers is on the right side of the street by the first streetlight.
- ring the bottom buzzer - Rear house

Also if you are hipper than "sin" as Whitney might say, then you already know that Jarvis Cocker, of Pulp fame, is spinning at the much hyped Misshapes party. Sharing the decks with the Prince of Swoon, Morrissey being the king, is Melody Nelson, Ultragrrrl and Karen +1. This should be one killer dance party. Wear your Sunday best.

Enough Promotion Already.
Well... Almost. Don't forget to buy your Modest Mouse tickets. I keep warning you because if you don't act fast you will be shut out of the best band playing these days. Issac and the kids rip.

So anyway, last night was a bit of a bust. A bunch of kids came over to 186 for pre-Shins festivities. I wasn't feeling it last night. We made our way to Coles sports center for the show. It was hot. It was hotter than hot. It was indoor swimming pool weather. There were tons of hot girls most of which I would be sent to jail for making out with. Nate and Builder tried to Culkin me. Nate got his. Jomo needed a Culkin, but Mia didn't catch my signals. We left after 6 or 7 songs and went home to watch a kick ass football game.

It's time to shake the leftover Thursday blues.

posted by jayloose at 12:29 PM 4 comments   

posted by jayloose at 10:02 PM 7 comments   

Come And Get It!

This weekend Whitney Sweet will be making his final trip to NYC to visit. He got the balls to pick up and move to Portland which certainly shows my NYC dependant ass whats up. Why the fuck can't I leave this place. No money. No girl. Undesireable job. Fucking eh. Well, at least he is more insentive to skip to the other coast. Another buddy may be moving there soon as well. Then we will run Portland. Anyway, he is coming up tomorrow so we will be bumming around together looking cute. Come and make out with Whit for me, trust me, he's great at it. Here is the email he sent me regarding this weekend.

Jay-

That sounds cool for saturday. I was thinking that I might go hang out in Brooklyn. I just got this really sweet rainbow striped mesh tank top. I figured I would wear that with some super tight cream colored jeans and a pair of 1987 Rossignol ski boots I bought off the side of the side of the street, and just look super New Yorkish and hip as sin. Actually, I'll probably just sleep. Sleep and make out with girls. And guys. I've really been putting a lot of thought into this lately and I'm pretty sure that the key to getting really hot chicks (like uber super hot chicks) to blow you is to convince them you're bisexual. Honestly though, if I walked into a bar and some girl was even slightly interested, but then saw me prancing around with my shirt off talking about dress shoes and shit and also making out with some dude, well we'd be fucking in minutes. So basically get ready for some heavy frenching with me because obviously the pay offs will be huge.

-Whit

posted by jayloose at 10:57 AM 1 comments   

As If You Needed A Reason.

So its that day of the week where you sit on the fence trying to decide whether or not you want to push the limit by ushering the weekend in a day early. Well, Sivan is here to aide your decision. Today Bside is having a Absolut Raspberry promotion. This means that on top of half price beers during her fabled happy hour, you will score a free shot of Absolut Raspberry with each beer purchase. What does this mean? It means you will be wasted before you go see the *cough* Shins *cough* or Franz Ferdinand. The promotion goes from 6-8pm so skip right through after work. Drinking makes me attractive.

posted by jayloose at 9:54 AM 2 comments   

I Want To Eat It.

I'm not a big fan of kids. They scare the shit out of me. I'm great with them. Always have been, but I'm weary of having my own. Not because I wouldn't be a good father, but because the world I'd be trying to raise them in is certainly on strange terms. We aren't battling a Great War or even a Cold War, but we are in the middle of tumultuous times that I wouldn't want my offspring to endure. In any event, this picture is of Matt and his nephew. How fucking cute is this snap shot. I'm puking in my mouth as we speak.

I'm thinking Uncle is the best option for me. If you think different, lets make it happen, but I don't know if any kids are ready for another sitcom like this. Gawd! I'm kidding. I'm straighter than Bush's poker face, (minus the coke nose).

posted by jayloose at 9:35 AM 0 comments   

We Getz Tha Money.


This is just an addition to today's earlier post. Another show you need to watch out for this weekend is rocking Brooklyn on Friday night. Walk Humongous is playing Trash Bar (used to be Luxx) around midnight. If you aren't checking out Dirty on Purpose (shame on you) then you should get out to Trash in time for the open bar from 9-10pm. If kick ass rock and free booze don't tickle your fancy, Stevo will definitely fill your quota. He joins Max, Noah and Colin as the fourth member of this Slope based band. Take the L to Bedford and walk South (against traffic) and make a left on Grand. Trash is a couple blocks down Grand (away from the water). I can't wait to see Mr. Metal rip it!

posted by jayloose at 5:08 PM 3 comments   

Take Warning! Take Warning!

Ok folks, I'm giving you the goods today, why? Because I care. After a couple of slow weeks we are set to turn the rock back up with heaps of shows followed by some big ole CMJ showcases. Before we get ahead of ourselves, there are a couple shows deserving of your undivided attention. The first is Dirty on Purpose who are playing this Friday at the Mercury Lounge. You can score your tickets here. They are playing with Pela and Rainer Maria. Check them out and then hop in a cab with me to see Walk Humongous at Trash.

The second show is on Wednesday, September 15th at Webster Hall. I know its a Jewish holiday, but I recommend you stop being such a Jew. I would skip Jesus' Birthday for this show. It's booked as Wolf Parade and FRIENDS! If you've followed Wolf Parade at all, then you will know which band is considered friends. Buy your tickets here. This is sure to sell out, and you will kick yourself in the ass if you aren't there. Trust me on this one.

Sorry for the delay. Blogger has been busted all day.

posted by jayloose at 3:18 PM 3 comments   

Support Our Troops.


I never posted my story regarding the unsuccessful mission to see Presidente Busho in action at the RNC. Noah and I got the call from Builder and his friend Max while slamming drinks at Bside. We met up with the properly dressed boys and made way to Madison Square Garden. We promptly split up upon arrival. Max and Builder knew they didn't stand a chance gaining enterance if they were with a couple slack jaws like Noah and me. After some misdirection from the cops, Noah and I found ourselves on 6th Avenue and 34th Street. At this point we ran into Action who was heckling Republicans as they entered the Convention. He was talking with Stephen Bozich of the US Army. Noah didn't want to give a final try to get in, so Stephen and I made a push for the line. They didn't buy my story so after some parting words, we gave all the passes we had to Stephen in hopes that he would get to see Bush speak. Obviously he did. Instead of hanging with the aristocracy, Action, Noah and I watched the speech from a nearby bar.

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Come And Get Your Love.
Well, the long weekend is upon us. Do you know what that means? Yeah, that’s right, I’m posting a list of cool shit to do. Tonight there are a few different options, and you should get out and exercise one of them.

*** First up, a couple of us are planning to head to the Museum of Natural History to finally check out Sonic Vision. Christie is organizing this field trip. The show begins at 7:30 and will cost you $15, but think of all the pot we could smoke before having our minds blown? This reminds me of something my mother might have done back in the day.

*** If you are one of the few sticking around the city this weekend and you’d like to get your drinking started early, then why not share this experience with DJ Del. He will be playing all the hits while singing along with the passion of Iggy Pop. Del’s set is at Motor City Lounge and will be rolling from 6pm-10pm.

*** If its live rock you are seeking this Friday night, then stop down to Lit and check out Jason Productshop’s band The Morning After. They boast an awesome name and a live set full dirty garage goodness. Check out the flyer on Jason’s blog for all the details.

*** Saturday night is a bit slow, but if you are trying to turn it up, then check out Audrey (Melody Nelson) who is playing records at the Crashin'In Party at Rothko. If you haven’t gotten a chance to check out the downstairs lounge at this place, now’s the time. You may even hear Audrey play a Pulp song, and you know how I heart Pulp.

*** Sunday is going to be the big day on this three day shitfest. If you checked this blog yesterday, you know about the BBQ in Carroll Gardens. They have been kind enough to hook us up with detailed directions:

Take G or F train to the CARROLL STREET stop in Brooklyn.

If you exit at President St. and Smith St.:
Make a RIGHT on PRESIDENT.
Walk a couple blocks to HENRY.
Make a LEFT.
540 HENRY.

If you exit the station at 3rd Pl. and Smith St.:
Make a RIGHT on 3RD PLACE.
Walk a couple blocks to HENRY.
Make a RIGHT.
540 HENRY.

Call Jeff: 646 346 9817
or Simon: 917 304 9342
and we'll toss the keys down from the roof.

Someone asked if this party was open to anyone even if they don’t know me or the kids throwing the party. The answer to that is, Abso-fucking-Lutely. Come one, come all. There will be 2 kegs, but keep in mind you need to bring your own food to grill, munch and devour.

*** Later that evening, (if we are still standing on our own accord) Motherfucker is having a Labor Day throw down at the Roxy. Go early for the open bar (10-11pm) sponsored by Absolut and Redbull. That should provide you with enough fuel to get through an 11pm set by Stellastarr* and hours of dancing till dawn.

So those are just a few of the throw-downs occurring over the next couple of days. If you don’t get out and party, you may kick yourself in the morning.

posted by jayloose at 1:27 PM 1 comments   

Third Installment Of Rooftop BBQ! Did you miss the last two Rooftop BBQ’s that Jeff and Simon hosted? If so, they are giving you a chance to pull your foot out of your ass just in time for Labor Day. This Sunday, September 5th, the boys will be at it again. Culkins and hotdog throwing have been suspended, but I can’t make any promises. Come early and get shitty while the day changes to night and casual acquaintances turn into make out sessions. So you know, Jeff has assured me that once again there will be two kegs so bring your friends. We have drinking to do.

Corona + Lime = My Bitch.
Yesterday was awesome for a number of reasons, but mostly because I got done with another wretched day in the office, (actually it wasn’t bad until 4pm, then the boat got rocked) Builder was at the house ready to hang out. After a quick session I packed another bag of cloths and headed to Hawkin’s errrr… ummmm… my apartment to hang out with the Zangrilli’s before meeting with some kids. Being one of the girls is so fun. We sunbathed (sort of), had a pillow fight and talked about boys we want to make out with, (all of this is true except for the last part. I swear I’m straight).

Sean Bones made his way into 172 which is the new 186. He brought some Coronas with him which was so choice. We tried to formulate a plan of action to get his band out of the NYC and into other major outlets in the North East. Jin stopped by to impart her wisdom on the do’s and don’ts of touring. In case you forgot, she just got done taking Dirty on Purpose on a mini-tour through the same targeted areas. Mr. Champion also stopped in to get in on the round table, but the evening seemed to spiral into drinking and various other activities. Around 9pm we were out of beers and decided to call it a day.

It was well past dinner time so I decided to introduce Jin to one of my favorite restaurants ever, Cafecito. You’ve heard me talk about this Ave C Cuban joint before, but last night it was even better. My steak was tip-top and quite affordable. Jin humored me while I stuffed my face and made ridiculous discussion.

Sleep was the only option after dinner so I returned to 172 and had a couple beers on the terrace, (best activity ever) before crashing out.

Beat The Buzz. Get The Fuzz.
If you are the forgetful type, (god damn, it was only yesterday) than here is a reminder that The Head Set is playing this evening at Arlene’s Grocery. Their website claims they are hitting at 11pm so be there on time. I’m pretty excited to catch up with tHS because it’s been awhile since I’ve seen them live. Noah and I are planning to check it out so if you want to jump on the J(ay) train than give me a ring, (Paul, please spare me any “I’ve ridden the J train comments).

Gmail Accounts.
This is just an FYI that I still have some Gmail accounts to dish out so drop me an email and I’ll hook you up. If not, its time to start signing up names I can sell on Ebay. Is turntable@gmail.com gone yet? If not; Whit, it’s all yours. Also note that Whitney is making his last NYC appearance before heading out West. This presents some serious incentive for me moving to Portland. If I only had some balls. Anyway, Whitney will be up here next weekend and he is currently scheduling make out appointments. I’ll pencil you in.

posted by jayloose at 12:53 PM 10 comments   

Cute Band Alert!
I love when magazines geared toward teenage girls have this kind of heading in their music columns. It makes me think that Sarah rules our world. Rest easy girls, we're in good hands. In any event, I'm sounding the alarm about The Head Set. All you swooners come out to the show tomorrow night. It will be a good one. Trust me, they are hotter when viewed at a closer distance and their songs kick some well developed ass. Notice to all bands, please stop using java so I can steal your pictures. Here are the show details:

The Head Set
Thursday, September 2 (11pm)
Arlene's Grocery (95 Stanton)

Also for the record. I was in Tower Video picking up a copy of SLAP to send to Momma Belin, and there was a table registering people to vote. Since I needed to get registered at 186's address, I dutifully filled out a form and submitted it to CHUCK D! That's right kids, Chuck D is registering voters at Tower Video. Way to help the cause Chuck.

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