Broken Hearted. Don’t Get Me Started.

Yesterday afternoon I was seriously bumming about Good Times Roll. Despite my need to update on all things weekend, my fingers felt magnetically repelled from the keyboard. There was even a moment where a total disbandment was considered. My attitude was facilitated by the massive confusion caused by my shift during the Bad Religion show on Thursday night. Punk rock kids are such bullshit. Seriously. Indie rock kids (including myself) are complete dicktards, but at least we aren’t punk rock kids. There were so many kids who needed to be kicked in the taint, but that’s not why they pay me. I rip your ticket, take your ridicule, let you smoke and smile when you roll your eyes or give me shit. I used to consider myself a punk, and I’m positive my previous days were full of the same misdirected angst so this is an open apology to all the door people and bouncers who had to throw me out of their club.

This attitude had to be put in check for my office Halloween party. A couple coworkers had costumes so to join in, I taped a tissue to my head and put a sign on my chest that read, “I’m a Booger!” It was a hit. So much sugar was consumed. My tude took a turn for the best. Around 6:30pm we all reported to Webster for last night’s Walkmen show. Let me just say, serving the indie kids is such a fucking treat. Everyone is so nice even if there is a problem. Unfortunately my ability to hear the show from the door was hindered by the 80’s prom night the club was throwing, but I did manage to make it upstairs to enjoy a bit of their THREE encores with Noah, Jin and Doug who informed me that I’d missed The Rat.

At the end of the second encore, I ran downstairs in search of the Beach crew, but didn’t see a soul except for Stephen Culkin who was bouncing dutifully. A quick hello and a hustle back upstairs after they finished lead me to Nista Christina who was rocking out with a friend or two. Then the Walkmen emerged for their third and final encore. Noah and I got a bit giddy when they made the announcement that their final track would be from The Recoy’s catalog. The Recoys was the precursor to the Walkmen. It was Pete, Hamilton and Hugh’s band while they were in college, (or so the liner notes would have us believe). Even Hugh (a Karl Rapfogal double) made it to the show last night, which must have been great for the entire band. Anyway, as they hammered away at Roy Orbison, I gleefully danced away with Juliet who was jamming like a rockstar.

The Walkmen are one of the truly solid rock bands playing these days. They always sound extremely professional and Hamilton’s howl has grown increasingly menacing. Everyone was surprised at his voice, and some didn’t like it all to much, but it’s easy to say that he won’t endure the same Bono comparisons that followed the band in every publication a few years ago. At times it sounded as though he was summoning the ghosts of hometown label Dischord records. It was so hardcore and when you have a kid that commanding fronting a band that not only sounds fantastic, but also looks like they are having fun; you have a pretty good thing going. Thank you Walkmen. Keep it up.

The first portion of my evening was in the books and things were looking promising. I bid farewell to Stephen, Jin, Noah and Doug before hopping in a cab with Beach, Lucy and Daylen. The Mercury Lounge was packed for Dead Meadow and The Warlocks. Upon walking in, we ran into Katie (a 186 neighbor), got some beers and shot back to the show room to catch some of the super heavy sounds of Dead Meadow. I was under the impression they were a three piece, but they were rocking the Mercury four strong. They pumped out their trademark heart pounding psych rock that made my chest feel like it was going to collapse.

A tequila shot later and I was out on the street in search of Paul Bothe. I ran into Katie and Julia who were waiting for some grub before going to the Bowery. After entertaining the idea for a block or so, I decided to go find Paul. Stevo, Christie, Paul and his lady friend were outside Julep and on their way to the Magician. On the way down to the bar I picked up a Sparks in hopes of pulling a big rally, but it wasn’t in the cards. Anoush, Hawk, T.Walk, Dan, Cami, Leah, Jordan, Brenda, Mike tHS, Kyle and some others were in the bar but my tired drunk ass couldn’t hang. A few of us snuck over to Johnson’s for a quick shot which thankfully ended my night. It was definitely time for bed.

The Cocktails Make Me A Little Forgetful.

There is so much going on this holiday weekend, but I want to make sure you all come to these two events because they are going to be so kick ass.

First up, tonight:



Followed by Sunday rock:



3 days until election day. 5 days until my favorite TV show comes back.

Total Eclipse Of My Fart.
Yesterday was gorgeous. No doubt about it. On my way home from the school, I stopped into Urban Outfitters to purchase a scarf. I think they were playing the entire Thrills record in there, but without confirmation, I say it with little certainty. Luckily the store carries the same model of scarf that kept my double chin warm last year. Once I returned to 186 it was supposed to be all about work, but I got side tracked by the last issue of Skyscraper. While leafing through its pages, a review of The Break Up’s album caught my eye. The writer didn’t pull any punches and gave straight up evidence that this record was trite rock. To my pleasant surprise, the writer was none other than Josh from Royal Flush and The Spicy Rizzaks. For the next half hour I flipped through the piles of reviews in the publication reading everything Josh had to offer. Josh, if you read this, I was digging the self-imposed question at the start of a good number of your interviews. Josh has bitching style. If you have the time to throw a few words together for Loose Record here and there, I’d be more than grateful.

Update: The Josh B. isn’t the real Josh B. The writer Josh B. will be Culkined repeatedly until he changes his last name. As jaded as he sounds, he still has a cool writing style.

So I did manage to get some work done prior to my venture over to Ludlow Street when I stopped by Daredevil Tattoo. After perusing the books, I decided on Eli to design my fifth tattoo. Since he isn’t coming back to town for another week, I’m hoping to see if Jigga can come up with anything that would help to fill out my left shoulder. Jeff, do you read this? Let’s talk.

Then a quick walk up 2nd Avenue brought me to Cami’s house. She was having some interior design issues, (read: rearranging her apartment). Since my mom has suckered me into watching many episodes of the Christopher Lowell show, I’ve got a keen eye for this type of mission. Ok, so I’m full of shit. I don’t have an eye for anything, but I was able to help Cami come up with a layout that worked. Hopefully she dug the new style and was able to get some sleep.

Once we finished up the furniture moving, we headed to the street in search of dinner. After a little teeth pulling, we made the decision to hit up the 2nd Avenue Deli. This restaurant is like a little slice of heaven. Tucked within tables full of people who looked of the Jewish persuasion, Cami and I dined on their most delicious grub like a couple of good Christians. Back in 1999, Lou took me on my first trip to the Deli. He couldn’t believe I never had maztah ball soup and I wasn’t privy to the deliciously salty pastrami, (outside of watching Seinfeld). So Cami and I ate so much food we needed to be rolled out of the restaurant. To be honest, I could eat there every day. Cami wants to be adventurous next time by eating some tongue.

On my walk home, it was difficult not to notice all the people in the street staring at the moon. Upon joining the crowd, my phone rang. Dana was calling to make sure I was checking out the Lunar Eclipse. Before the earth completely shaded the moon, I managed to make it to Rivington and Norfolk where Dana was watching. There were heaps of kids in the street who got rowdy when the moon went completely dim. We had some trouble figuring out the logistics of the eclipse (yeah, we’re retarded) so she called her mom to confirm. After our star gazing, we were in search of libations.

We joined the rowdies at Welcome to the Johnson’s. Dana secured the front couch while I picked up some PBRs. After a couple drinks, some solid chit chat and some dinkas knocking my beer into my lap, we decided to call it a night. Back at 186 I couldn’t get my dam FUGU working. I’m trying to post a bunch of flyers here, but someone (Builder maybe) has done something that is preventing me from using my server. Fucking Interweb.

*** In some rawsome news, The Gothamist catches up with These Bones who recently played The Plan in Boston (boooo) and are hitting the skins this Sunday at Mercury Lounge. Make sure you get there on time because this show also includes sets from the Sam Champion Big Band and Demander. Kisses to Sean for the shout out.

*** Walk Humongous is also playing a show this weekend. Get to the Luna Lounge on Saturday for a rocktabulous show. Bring things to throw on stage, and I don’t want to make any promises, but I may have to jump on stage and beat the microphone out of Max’s hand when they play Changing the World. Though, by the looks of this picture, no one is stealing his mic.



Hearing Is Believing.
Why don’t people take me by the hand and lead me to my love? Seriously, Builder has told me about this band before, but we never got around to sitting down and listening to the record. Since I’m one of the few audiophiles who lives life without vinyl (except for the occasional 7inch or DFA single), I don’t get to sample the shelf of records Builder keeps squirreled away in his room. Though our house has four turntables, not a single one of them resides in my bedroom. Anyway, I have to cut this short. Go buy Neu! 2. Sorry to fluff you and not rub you off. Read about it here.

In Case You Were Wondering.
Beach just sent out an email with String Cheese Incident's reaction to the Ashlee Simpson fuck up on SNL this past weekend. Since I've yet to mention it, now is as good of time as any:

Just about everyone has a comment in response to Ashlee Simpsons announcement that she needs to lip sync during live performances due to her problems with Acid Reflux Disease. Some responses are critical of Ashlee’s explanation; others are more supportive and sympathize with her struggle.

The String Cheese Incident doesn't have much to say regarding her recent lip-synching debacle. But they would like to take this opportunity to announce that the band never lip synchs during live performances, even when they are on acid. Perhaps they should, but they won’t.

This Coffee’s Weak And Useless.
So go back to sleep. Do you think there is any chance I could develop some self-imposed coma in order to fast forward to next Wednesday? This would prevent the daily ulcer I’m facing with each viewing of the evening news or skimming of the newspaper. Anyway, I want to spare you the political details because if you are reading this (and I know a couple people do) then you most likely lean to the left. If not, wise up or fuck off. I’ve lost all tolerance for you Republicans, (including Oveis).

Last night was an excellent drug and alcohol free Tuesday evening. Around 7pm I reported to the Bowery for work because the dynamic door duo of Cherlin or Bernin was scheduled to work. Rachel Yamagata, a new artist on RCA Victor was playing to a sold out crowd of smoking hot girls and the dudes they dragged along with them. Seriously, I’m thinking of following Rachel on her next tour because there were so many drop dead gorgeous women in attendance. This included my friend Robin, along with The Head Set hotness of Jordan and Eliot. Oh, and for the record, I got to talk to Clive Davis for a hot minute. If you want to throw the word legend around, he is a proper figure to attach it to.

Following my shift, I hustled over to Dana’s house to check out Laguna Beach. Many tout this show as the reality version of The O.C., but those critics should check themselves. Stephen and his harem can’t hold a candle to the Cohen’s the rest of the county’s crew, (season premeir is next Thursday). It almost baffles me to think that these kids really exist. Where did they come from? How do I get that rich? Watching Laguna Beach did one thing for me; it made me depressed that I’ll never be filthy fucking rich. Seriously, can anyone help me get so damn rich that I get to hang out with high school blondes with pornstar-in-waiting bodies? Money kicks ass. I bet it kicks even more ass when you have some.

So we finished up the evening watching the Red Sox take a 3-0 lead in the World Series. It looks like they can’t be stopped, but history can repeat itself, (doubtful). My walk short walk home was filled with the sweet sounds of Dirty on Purpose’s Monument which I’m praying they rerecord for their full-length. It's such an epic track.

Need to get out of the house this evening? Here is an open bar put together by your favorite NYC Tarts of Pleasure. I hear it’s a good time, so make the most out of your Wednesday and go get your drunk on.

Believe Me, This One's The Worst.
I hope you saw The Big Sleep last night. Unfortunately, I had to work, but let me know if you saw the goodness. Were you impressed?

*** If you are like me or Cami, and you want the inside scoop on the third effort from NYC's golden boys, check out a column Gordon Raphael wrote for Rockfeedback. Don't expect an all Strokes article. It's merely the butter on his toast.

*** I'm usually all about new Apple technology, but this noise about U2's limited edition Ipod is less interesting than the dump I took this morning. At least the Edge's name is inscribed on the back so you can totally geek out with other U2 obsessed fan's in various chat rooms. It is black and red which reminds me of the good old days as a bison at Clearfield Area High School.

*** The pirate that lives deep inside me is giddy with joy. Keith Richards is set to play Jack Sparrow's father in the sequel to best pirate film ever.

*** Ever have the desire to see a hip-hop mainstay tread water? Now you can!

*** Another Libertines Live review pining over the loss of Pete. Can't we just get over it and love the Libertines who are still giving us the rock? They are fucking rock. That's it.

*** John Peel was the man. Check out a portion of his epitaph.

*** Another big name in rock passes away. Greg Shaw, who was on the cutting edge of DIY publishing, passed away due to heart failure.

*** A few months ago I stumbled upon one of the Go Team's singles in a bargain bin in the Virgin Megastore. Ever since, Kyle and I have fallen deeply in love with this creative group. Now they have a full-length and the approval of some uber critics.

*** Junkmedia catches up with The Faint as they pass through the city of brotherly love. It's actually an solid interview so if you dig these Omaha kats, check it out. Oh, and that guy from their show who gave me a hard time is still a dick.

*** If you want to be the last to hear, then click here.

*** I'm a huge Trail of Dead fan, but this has me worried.

*** Franz Ferdinand and Epic try to milk the hell out of their debut album. The bonus songs are top notch though, so if you didn't buy the singles way back when, and you have yet to purchase the record, late November is your time to get with it. Scottish boys make great Christmas gifts.

*** Speaking of Jesus' birthday, one thing I'll never understand about our older sibling across the pond, is their love of Christmas Singles. Every holiday season is filled with news about records we American's could care less about.

*** Yesterday wasn't such a bad day for new records. The release of full-lengths from The Futureheads, Death From Above 1979, Razorlight and The Soledad Brothers were overshadowed by the reissue of Pavement's classic Crooked Rain, Crooked Rain.

If Sleeping Is Giving In.
Then this kid gave up. Today at 10am Trevor is taking off from Dubois (pronounced Do Boys) on his way back to the army. Last night he went over to my mom’s house to hang out and use the computer and she said he was heartbroken. Once I get his address I’m going to post it here and all of you should send him a note, a cookie, a porno magazine or something to help his days pass by. He told me about a few of his friend’s experiences. They told Trevor that the first few weeks of processing and training fly right by, but once you get shipped to the dessert, time slows almost to a halt and they are forced to count the days. One of his pals likened it to scenes in Platoon where the soldiers desperately awaited their final day, (though the friend did realize this war is nothing like the one in Vietnam). I’m going to need your help inundating the kid with mail so he has something to look forward to. A positive attitude will keep him sharp and hopefully out of harms way. Good luck Corporal Sheaffer. Keep your head down and your spirits high.

The Wheel Fell Off.
Has the Arcade Fire bandwagon passed? Sure, some people have been hyping them for months, and I know Canada has been singing their praises the past year. Pitchfork did give Funeral, their debut record on Merge, a 9.7 on a scale of 10. Additionally, they played the biggest (in terms of hype) show at this years CMJ festival when they graced the stage at the Mercury Lounge. This prompted a massive ticket buy which sold out their Bowery Ballroom, November show with Dirty on Purpose and the Hidden Cameras. It seems as though the wagon pulled into station, dropped off the accruements necessary for stardom and left the public to make an informed decision.

Well, it was enough for me. I’ve since bought the album and realized the supreme beauty of their song craft. Is it good because it’s different? Are we pissing our pants in ecstasy because it isn’t fueled by four on the floor or darker than night vocals? Is the public gravitating toward this band because we see a bunch of kids creating delicate sounds on the brink of falling apart? Or is it simply the inner band geek in all of us who loves flutes, harps, recorders, cellos, xylophones and any other instrument you can think of including a 12 string guitar. They name check all the necessary visionaries, and yet its nearly impossible to pin them down like the overused Interpol/Joy Division or The Killers/Duran Duran comparisons.

So here I am, the last of the bloggers, commanding you to go and spend $15 on the Arcade Fire album. It’s better than three vodka tonics at your favorite bar. Come on now… there’s nothing to it!

Pulling A Belin On The Regular.

Monday evenings are completely unproductive. Yesterday, with the help of Apple Boy extraordinaire, I was able to install a wireless card into my Powerbook which means I can finally surf for internet porn in the comfort of my own bed. We also had another Loose Record meeting. If you haven’t taken the time to sign up for Loose Updates, do yourself and me a favor by checking out the website and submitting your email information. We promise not to sell your addresses to any porno or prescription companies, unless you want me to.

Speaking of which, a family member of mine recently tried out one of those emails for Vicodin. I’m sure at one point or another one of your inboxes has been flooded with spam from companies offering cheap prescription drugs just by filling out a form. Well, they actually work and the drugs were even sent from New Jersey. I’m not one to dabble too heavy in the world of pills, (well, not enough to order them over the internet) but any of you kids looking to get your fix, believe the hype and get your drugs online!

Anyway, my evening wound down with a couple big phone conversations, some Nyquil and a bit of the football game. My tired ass should have stopped by Atomique at Eleven to make sure Dennis was representing in Melody’s absence or I should have been in attendance for the Brian Jonestown Massacre at Mercury, but my head wasn’t in the right place for a party. Instead I pulled a Monday Night Belin. It could be a new trend. Since Sunday has been deemed the new Friday by a friend of mine, then Monday is the new Sunday. Do you follow?

The Long Lost Art Of... Seduction?
Can I Borrow A Feeling? Please close this window if you don’t want to hear me bitch. After reading some other blogs and a conversation with a long standing girlfriend (read: girl-space-friend), I feel the need to get a bit emo. There was some hesitation in this necessity, and even as my fingers peck away, I’m figuring this portion of the post will get erased before it sees the light of day. It feels like a practice in futility, but I’m continuing anyway.

It’s been a long time since I’ve committed to anything. Seriously. Girlfriends? Yeah, right. There have been girls throughout the years, and I’m by no means a lonely guy. A relationship or two has crept into my life, but nothing with any sort of longevity. Granted this isn’t entirely my fault, but I’ve been known to bail from a situation way to early. This has caused me to screw up potential relationships with fantastic girls without even giving the notion of “us” a chance. Lately I’ve been trying to come to grips with why this happens on a regular basis. Jay likes girl. Jay somehow finds a way to trick girl into liking him. Relationship buds. Jay bails. This has been going on for nearly three years now. Is there some idealistic situation I can’t seem to create within the framework of reality? Am I afraid of commitment? Am I too picky? Am I incapable of feeling emotion? Am I incredibly selfish? It’s frightening to think all the answers to these questions may simply be yes.

Way back in 2000 I entered into a meaningful relationship with a lovely girl named Christine. Some of you may know her, and know that we were really different people, but for some reason it worked. We fell for each other rather quickly and in less than a year’s time we living together. It didn’t seem too crazy at the time, but in retrospect this living situation may have damned the possibility of another meaningful relationship. After the first few months, which were all butter, my neuroses caught up with me and pushed me to focus on the negative aspects of our relationship. After a month of suppression Christine, as naïve as she wanted to remain, questioned my attitude which caused an eruption leading to the end of our relationship. This isn’t me blaming her for anything. In fact, the demise of our relationship is solely my fault. I had a girl who was a real giver, the type of girl who would do anything for you, and yet I couldn’t bring myself to open up to her. My fucking trust issues are starting to catch up with me.

Has this personal diatribe sorted me out? Not bloody likely. The fact remains that after three years of having the complete inability to stabile one relationship in my life, I’ve determined that I no longer hold the ability to court a young lady. If only we could go back to the days of note writing. Those days were so simple. So cut and dry. There weren’t any games. There wasn’t the thrill of the case. There weren’t days between phone calls. There wasn’t the fear of looking needy. There wasn’t any bullshit.

Do you like me? Circle YES or NO.

R.I.P. John Peel.

The world renown English DJ died while on holiday in Peru. He will be sorely missed by all who invested anything in music. His influence will echo through time, (thanks for the heads up Dave).

Watch Out Boy, They’ll Chew You Up.
Where do I start? What do you want to hear? To say the very least it was a trying weekend, but I can’t complain because I got off easy. As you may have read, one of my best pals from home, Trevor, has been called back to the Army after serving 4 years in the hopes of getting a free college education. Trevor did his time and was finishing his first year as a student at Penn State in the drama department. He is made for the screen, but you wouldn’t have guessed it this weekend. I’ve never seen him in such a state of dismay. His looming 18 months of service put a serious damper on my visit home. Once again, I got off easy, because I’m back at my desk bitching about the current administration while Trevor waits to be shipped off in less than 24 hours.

Upon finally seeing Trevor on Thursday, (he though I wasn’t coming home Wednesday night so he went to spend time with his relatives) I asked him how he felt. He replied, “Every day gets worse.” This indicated to me that the next few days wouldn’t be easy for anyone. With this in mind, I cruised down to Evan’s house and spoke to him and his mother about the election. Bonnie told me people stole the Kerry/Edwards signs from their front yard so they had to hand make signs. Clearfield County is Bush country. It’s a scary thing. Every discussion I engaged regarded politics and the main reason people are voting for Bush (from what I gathered) is their belief that our country needs to be on the offensive. This inspired a correlation to another “offensive” world leader who attempted to homogenize culture in the late 1930’s. They didn’t appreciate that, though most of them don’t care for Jews.

Many friends and some family told me they believed if we didn’t continue our war on terror that “we” would be at serious risk. This prompted the freak out response of “We! What the hell are you talking about we?” These people live 150 miles from anything that could be remotely considered a “terror target.” I explained to them, that if they are living in fear of attack, then I must be walking around with a huge target painted on my back. They explained to me that it is my choice to live in an area deemed a “primary target” (this made me question where their information came from) which caused another gasp in disbelief. Maybe they are right and the rational thinkers are wrong, but if we choose to live in a high risk area, should we be the only people permitted to vote in an election that determines the course of international relations? This led me to believe that this election isn’t about Left and Right or Democrat and Republican. This election is Rural vs. Urban or Small town overly patriotic minds vs. Big city overly informed minds.

Returning home a couple weeks before the election was truly an eye opener. Kids, if you are reading this and taking any stock in what I’m saying, please call your friends and relatives in the swing states and talk to them about the major implications of their decision. The race is so close and we can’t afford to let this slip through our hands. Can you imagine what G.W. Bush is capable of if he doesn’t have something like the possibility of a second term keeping him in check? And God forbid we lose some Supreme Court Justices and the Bush administration gets to appoint new ones. It could be the end to fundamental rights like privacy, free speech and even an overturn of Roe V. Wade.
Ok, I’m going to stop preaching, but you get the picture. Please activate yourself. We have barely over a week left in our attempt to win back this country and begin the rebuilding process in the wake of the Bush Administration. Make the calls, send the emails and keep on keeping on.

Oh, So I Went To Pennsylvania.
Last Wednesday, Christie picked me up from work and we hit the road with central PA in our sights. The drive went surprisingly well, and I managed to make it home in time to see the Yankees complete the worst choke in playoff history. It was so disappointing, especially since Johnny “Charles Mason” Damon hit two homeruns in their final rout in the Bronx. It was a serious dagger through the heart, but you have to admit, Boston deserved it. They played harder and wanted it more. They gave it everything they had and in the end, they certainly looked like the better ball club. Our bats shut down, our bullpen blew some big games and our starting pitching was at Tampa Bay levels. Hats off to you Boston, but I still hate you.

After the game, it was time to get drunk. Without Trevor and Evan, I didn’t know where to start. Luckily my old friend Jeanette was camped out at a bar called Dingers. We sat around getting wasted and smoking cigarettes until the bar closed at 2am. It is always funny seeing kids from high school who want to tell you their story about coming to New York. They tell you how they went to Ground Zero and ate delicious food. Those conversations are oddly comforting.

On Thursday, Rachel, my older sister, and Mom met me for lunch at a downtown (term used very loosely) establishment where all sorts of upper middle class folks meet for lunch. Unfortunately, my mom’s old boss was in the house so she was a bit rattled because the guy was such a prick to her. I asked her if she wanted me to start shit, but she calmed down so I didn’t have to kick some adult’s ass. John Kordish is a pussy and if given the right opportunity, I’d punch him where his balls should be. Then Judge Ammerman and his wife who live a few doors down. Though the guy always seemed like a bit of a dick, he was quite nice to me despite our previous encounters when I was facing some minor criminal charges.

Then it was on to running errands that included an oil change and crock pot purchasing. My next stop was the hot tub in our backyard that could house a cheerleading squad. I managed to log a good amount of hot tub time this trip and I plan to continue this trend on future visits. Evan, Trevor and I met up to ride to Clarion where my little sister attends college. We met her at The Roadhouse which is the restaurant she works for. After a heated political discussion and some ribs, we cruised over to check out her apartment before returning to Clearfield to spend the night in the bars.

Friday crawled by until we ended up at home watching Ali G with the family. My mom thought he was retarded because she was in the other room listening rather than watching with us. She said, “I only hear what I can see.” That is a direct mama Belin quote, and I’m sure she’ll give me shit about posting it, but it was hilarious. Anyway, she cooked an amazing dinner for Trevor and the rest of us. At dinner we had another heated political discussion which ended in the typical frustrating fashion. Mom, Bruce, Trevor, Evan and I settled into a solid game of Balderdash which ended with a JJJay win. My mom thought my “King of Bullshit” title was fitting. We passed out in front of the TV after various extracurricular activities.

Trevor and I woke up mighty early on Saturday in order to meet Christie and her sister, Jen, in time to get some tailgating in before the Penn State vs. Iowa game. This was one good way to get Trevor’s mind on something other than him impending service, but it didn’t do the trick. The poor kid seemed out of sorts all day and it was with good reason. We managed to shotgun a beer and put back a couple sandwiches prior to heading into the stadium for the 12pm kick off. We had great seats, but the funny part was that her seats were two rows up from my family’s seats that I frequented during my childhood. It is really a small world. I’m sure Christie and I were at the same games back in the day. We sat a few seats from each other in a huge stadium not knowing we would one day be friends. It was strange.

Penn State completely sucked. Well, let me be fair. The Penn State offense completely sucked. The Defense played a fantastic game, but the offense couldn’t back them up with even a field goal. The final was Iowa 6, Penn State 4. Yes, they only scored 10 total points which was doubled later that night in the first game of the World Series. Despite the low scoring contest we had a great time and ran into some old friends. Later that evening, Trevor wasn’t feeling up to any public appearances so we sat in his room and slammed PBR’s while playing the new James Bond game. Awhile after midnight I said good bye and good luck to the bravest kid I know.

I’m not going to mention anything about the Notre Dame collapse. Feel free to rub it in at any given time. I still hate Boston.

Back To Life. Back To Legality.
Sunday morning mom cooked me a farewell breakfast before hitting the road. No one was home at the Zangrilli house when I stopped in so I loaded what looked to be Christie’s bags and hung out for a bit. Eventually she showed up and we hopped on the highway. We didn’t have any trouble getting back to the city, and the alternative route she purposed worked out with roses. Kyle was kind enough to help me unload the car before we settled into the third reason why I hate Boston; the Jets and Patriots game. Dan joined us to watch the Jets squander many different chances to win the game. The Patriots proved to be the better team, but the Jets held their own against the defending champs. Hopefully we will fair better at the Meadowlands.

Then it was off to some Mexican joint on St. Marks for Mr. Ian Perry’s birthday dinner. Happy Birthday Warrior Perry, you are a maniac. We had a bitching crew assembled that included the man of honor, Noah, Action, Daylen, Beach, Little Beach, Justin, Liz and some dude I didn’t know, but I think his name was John. We powered through some chips and salsa while watching the game on Action’s handy handheld TV, (sorry for that). My enchiladas reminded me why I love New York while the margaritas began to take their toll. After dinner we headed to 2A for a few drinks and Tequila shots before I had to call it an evening. It was a long trying weekend, and despite Perry’s request for karaoke, I couldn’t stand to be awake a minute longer.

Additionally, happy birthday to mi main man Karl who's team better pick it up if they don't want to go the way of the Yankees. Anyway, I’m back, so prepare for more regular updates. Sorry for the absence, but it was necessary. Please activate and for the love of god, vote.

Self Promotion With Some Emotion.
Writing about Loose Record got me a bit excited about the project. This prompted me to check in on my boy's website. If you don't know the story, back in August, I was prepared to move home to save some funds prior to moving to Portland. The specifics were worked out with Mama Belin and I was planning to ditch out in September. These plans were thwarted by Graeme's out of nowhere email that contained a front page for Loose. What he sent me looked so good that it would be completely moronic of me not to push things forward. Now we are well on our way to becoming a Real-Deal-Hollyfield web publication, and I have Graeme to thank for it. Though he is miles away in London, I hope he can feel the love. Check out a recent interview Graeme and his partner had with a Scottish News Site in regards to their design firm Random Feature.

If you need work done, look into these cats. They have a sharp eye and all the necessary skills to actualize whatever you need. Tell them Jay sent you.

Shit Sticks And Shoe Shines.
My one million apologies to Patrick and Audrey for my absence at last night’s Vicious party at Rothko. Unfortunately, I was at home watching the Yankees break my heart for the third night in a row. It just isn’t fair. I missed the first three games of the series due to CMJ and my work shifts. The last three games that I’ve watched have been nail biters all ending in Yankees’ loses. Maybe I’m giving them bad luck, (yes, I’m crazy enough to consider it). Either way they better turn it up tonight and prevent history from being made. If the Yankees go down this evening, it will be a tough pill to swallow, but we must go into this game with a positive attitude in tack.

The one good thing about a Yankees vs. Red Sox game tonight is the fact that I’ll be watching from the comfort of my Mom’s couch. This afternoon Christie and I are going to barrel down Interstate 80 with central Pennsylvania in the crosshairs. I’ll drop Christie off in State College and continue home to Clearfield to drink High Life while talking shit to Bruce. It will be fantastic. Following the game, Trevor and I will riot in Clearfield in the name of the Bronx Bombers. Later this weekend, Christie was cool enough to hook us up with some tickets to the Penn State vs. Iowa game. We are going to tailgate our asses off and show Trevor a bitching last weekend at home.

It’s Time To Get Loose.
Some of you were at the Loose Record listening party that Hawkins and I put together this past May. Some of you may have even been a part of the brainstorming process Noah and I went through last summer. Either way, you should check out the Coming Soon page to my new project, Loose Record. I’m going to spare you the description because there’s a blurb on the page. I highly urge all of you with an interest in live music to sign up for Loose Updates. If you are in a band, want to write or have any other concerns, send us an email. We are projecting a launch date in early 2005 so get ready for a lot more news and a better way to experience live music.

Are You Being Served?
I know some of you are sitting there thinking, “Oh God, Jay is gone for the weekend, what do we do?” Yeah, there are so many of you up in arms, but don’t worry because I have some answers for you. Just because I’m out of town doesn’t mean the rock stops. Sorry this is such bullshit, I’m delirious this morning.

Wednesday, October 20, 2004.

1. This evening you have a chance to see The Boy Bathing at Luna Lounge for FREE. Dave D. and Jeannie of The Boy Bathing highly request your attendance. Though I’m behind the curve on seeing these cats, what I hear is that you’ll dig on it if you are a fan of the somber side of Saddle Creek. Check it out and let me know.

Thursday, October 21, 2004

1. Even though Matt D. has moved to Beantown for awhile, I won’t hold it against him. We all know he is a Cubs fan so he isn’t coming back to NYC just to gloat in the calm before a pending disaster. Matt is returning because RANA is rocking the Knitting Factory on Thursday night. This show is a record release party for their new full-length records. Get to this show if you are in search of extending jams laced with R&B.

2. If you aren’t up for leaving the L.E.S., keep things in the hood with a stop by Rothko. This evening The Witnesses will be styling and profiling all up and down your ass. It recently came to my attention that Jack Champion used to play in this band. They are such a hair band. Headlining the show with their sweeping aural pleasures and engaging visuals is Brooklyn’s own Sea Ray. These guys impress me every time I see them which means a lot because I once saw them at Sin-e.

Friday, October 22, 2004.

1. If Thursday night didn’t provide you with enough Matt D. to get you through the coming weeks, head up to the Tank this evening for his side project known as Leafcutter. If I’m correct, which doesn’t happen often, Matt will be playing a set with Noah Champion on guitar, Ryan Champion on the skins and Steph on bass guitar. If you are a fan of the songs Matt’s been posting on his blog or you’re like me and love the kid, check out this gig.

2. Speaking of kids I heart, Dennis Cahlo and The Sons of Sound are playing Friday night’s Social!sm party at Rothko. This is the show I’m really pissed about missing. I haven’t seen the Sons of Sound since their first show as a three piece and word on the street is they’ve taken great strides to crafting their own style of the dark melodic rock. This is right up my ally and god willing I’m going to see one of their shows in the near future. In the mean time, keep their train rolling with an appearance at this show.

3. Maybe you aren’t interested in anything but a beer guzzling, foot stomping good time. If this is the case, get your ass down to Lit so it can shake-shake-shake to the raunchy sounds of The Morning After. Jason recently announced they have added another guitarist to the band, and though I didn’t quite understand the email, I’m under the impression they are going to be a five piece… me thinks. Either way, Hal is now toothless and plans to pass that love your way. Go dance. I command you.

Saturday, October 23, 2004.

1. Yet another show for me to lament over my absence is Ratatat at the Bowery Ballroom. These guys rock so hard and I haven’t seen them since the record came out and they became the 10th and 11th members of the Wu Tang Clan. They are such an interesting band and their songs get stuck in my head for weeks on end. Check these kids out and remember the Bowery is now a Culkin Free zone.

2. Even though you won’t see me going to Brooklyn anytime soon, you shouldn’t let that stop you from crossing the river Saturday evening. The recently acquired Razor and Tie artists, The Giraffes will throw down a set of the beer soaked hard rock at Asterisk Art Studio. Dave will be there throwing down like a proud sibling while The Giraffes thrash through some ear splitting songs. If you are in search of a riotous good time, get on the train and brave the frontier.

Though I wish to miss none of these shows, it’s imperative that I go home to wish my best buddy off. This reminds me; don’t forget to vote in a few weeks. Trevor is counting on you. This situation is so shitty for him, but he keeps on the bright side. He already sees the light at the end of his service tunnel. I’m sure he feels helpless to the machine, but hopefully he can maneuver within its framework to keep himself out of harms way. I feel helpless for him, but this isn’t about me because when I’m doing something like rocking out to the Pixies in December, my best pal will be dodging bullets in the desert. It kills me, but I don’t have the balls or the desire to sign up for the armed forces. I can rest easy knowing we are in good hands with someone like Trevor “Stanley” Sheaffer watching our backs.

Have a great weekend and keep an eye to the mean side. Winters coming so buy a sweater and find a teddy bear (this one is still available) for those long cold nights that are on the horizon. Most importantly, keep it loose and Go Yankees.

Watch The Yankees. See The Rock.
TONIGHT!
Vicious @ Rothko
(116 Suffolk)
21+ / $8

Featuring…
The Comas (8pm)
Caulfield Sisters (9pm)
Soft Explosions (10pm)
PS – Record Release! (11pm)
Silver (12am)

Come support Patrick (pictured) and the rest of PS as they celebrate the release of their first full-length titled Double Standards.

Tonight is going to be what Tim McCarver would call a, “game of inch.” Yes, the past two evenings McCarver, one of my least favorite announcers, said “Baseball is a game of inch.” What the shit Timmy? You are falling into the world of John Madden idioms. Pretty soon you’ll be spouting off reasons why the Golden Retriever has most fun out of all dogs. WTF?

Anyway, tonight I’m planning to watch the Yankees seal the deal at The Stadium. Let’s hope this game is a quick one. As my luck would have it, the only two games I’ve been able to watch were the last two. If you aren’t aware, the last two games have been excruciatingly long so I’m hoping for a quick one tonight. Get us into the series, and get me to Rothko for the PS show brought to you buy Audrey aka Melody Nelson and Jasper who I’ve only met a couple of times, but it is his birthday, so any reason to party is a reason to party.

Speaking of birthdays, I missed my main man David Black’s birthday on Sunday. Sorry Dave. I was pulling my hair out watching the Yankee bullpen fall apart. I trust you had a wonderful 24th!

Jon Stewart Isn't Backing Down.
If you haven't seen the video of Jon Stewart's guest spot on CNN's Crossfire, check it out here, (Thanks so much Leah for the link to this goodness). It's painfully hilarious.

CMJ(ay Belin) Is My Bitch.
With the CMJ Festival is disappearing in our rear view mirrors, I couldn’t be more excited. The light at the end of my tunnel has been my looming trip back to Clearfield. Now the four days of running and rock are behind us, and I can look forward to a few days of the simple life. Before I’m able to completely shake the metropolis off my shoulders, I’ll need to get through a short week. This is a welcomed challenge in the rubble of CMJ. For a kid without a badge, it sure felt like I was a big part of the festival. Work went well while the rock went better. Let me explain.

Before I get to the rock filled weekend let’s just give a big round of applause to Notre Dame who cracked the Top 25 (ranked 25th) after defeated Navy at the Meadowlands. Another standing ovation is in order for the 5 and 0 New York Jets. After a shaky start against San Francisco, the Jets dug deep and pulled out a win. Let’s hope they come out of the gate with more fire again the Patriots next week. The only blemish on a solid sports weekend was the extra innings loss last night by the Yankees. Mo blew another save against the Red Sox, but hopefully Moose can close things out this evening.

And You Will Know Us By the Trail of Culkins.
If you looked the word awesome up in the dictionary you might find an entry dissecting Friday because it was definitely an exercise in awesomeness. The day began at 4pm after a somewhat long day at work. The good news is that I’ve been offered a promotion within the University. On Thursday my dean pitched me the idea and on Friday we began working out the details. The best part about the whole deal (besides the increase in pay) is that I’ll finally have my own office complete with a door… That closes! The position isn’t anything to write home about, but it’s nice to know some people appreciate my effort. The entire transaction hasn’t been written in stone so keep your fingers crossed, but things are going to change. I can feel it.

So after work I headed to Webster Hall for round one of the Faint. The Saddle Creek showcase was set to be a big CMJ to do, and yours truly would be one of its traffic directors. This evening I was working the main door by my lonesome, but thankfully towards the middle of the night, a security guard named Starr came to make things easier. He was a champ and his help made the whole night run incredibly smoothly. I have to say it some of the out of town CMJ kids were great. They would chat me up on my slow periods and then let me work when the line got out of control. Was this due to their out of town attitude? Either way it was a welcomed change from the norm.

Around 10pm they cut me off and I was sent on my way to the Bowery to help out with the late show. The bill was quite eclectic and it included Mates of State, Aesop Rock, Sun O:))) and Trail of Dead. Before the doors opened there was a line down to the corner which is never a bad thing. The rush was handled in perfect fashion and by we were actually able to accommodate nearly everyone who stopped down to check out the show. A few disappointed folks didn’t stick out the wait, but when they did, it usually paid off. Ray and I lamented our long days, but by the time …And You Will Know Us By the Trail of Dead took the stage, I was hit with a second wind that carried me deep into the morning.

The second door shut down as soon as Trail of Dead started. I rushed downstairs and sewed everything up before heading upstairs to rock out with a top notch gang that included the newly legal drinker Lucy Beach. Happy 21st to the little lady who took her birthday Culkin like a champ despite the bumps she sustained from the fall. We aren’t in the business of dishing them out at the Bowery anymore, but Friday proved to be a special occasion, (read: shitfest). Rocking the back corner with the likes of Beach, Daylen, Tumbleweed, Lucy, Nate Belin, Del, Julia, J.M., Mia, Robbie and Macchia was a so much fun, (if I forgot you, my apologies). It seemed like my drunkenness set in awfully quick due to Merrida’s huge tequila pours and my lack of rest.

Trail of Dead dropped a massive set on all those in attendance. They were fantastic. They mix the melodic with the hardcore in a fashion that would make Victory Records come to their knees. Their sound is simply menacing because even at its soberest of moments it has you on edge due to its tendency to destroy. And destroy they did. One of the coolest aspects of the band is their ability to change style in the blink of an eye. When Jason (usually one of two drummers) takes to the microphone, you ears prepare for an angst laden assault that is 100% testosterone. When Conrad sings there is a different feel to the music, but this duality is part of what makes the Trail of Dead so appealing.

During one of their last songs, I can’t be exact due to the time of day and the amount of drinks consumed, the guitar player beat the piss out of his instrument. As we watched in horrific excitement, he whipped his ax until it was no longer recognizable. He threw a piece of the guitar into the crowd which I later learned hit a girl on the head and made a bit of a mess. On their next number, they invited the crowd on stage to join in the destruction. It was raining beer in the Bowery. Kids were throwing drinks from the crowd, from stage and even from the balcony. I’ve never seen the place get so up in arms. It was at this point that I decided to run to the front of the room, shoot up the back steps and dance around on stage. Only a minute into my onstage appearance, the same guitar player who destroyed his guitar, stole the drink right out of my hands. I gave him a what the fuck at which point he grabbed the back of my head, forced my entire drink in my mouth which caused me to spit it all over the front of the crowd. It is a high I’m still riding. Some kids who caught the show have made a point to tell me I had a nice cameo to which I answer that I’m quitting my job and going on tour.

The night closed out in the basement of the Bowery post Culkins. We had such a great time with the staff and our friends. Everyone in that place is so nice and we reveled in a job well done. The night got a bit ridiculous, but we were all in top form. On my stumble home, I ran into Kendra who was in search of the same late night booty as me. A slice of pizza later and I was sleeping like a kid coming down from a sugar high

Good Day Sunshine.
If Friday was awesome, Saturday was amazing. It began with me fighting to fall back asleep after I was stirred at 11am. Why couldn’t I crash back out? Maybe my anticipation of the last CMJ day was keeping me up, but either way my body wasn’t cooperating. Around 1pm I hopped on my bike and sped to Mogador for a brunch with Leah and Cami. We went so big with our order, but for some reason I could barely get through any of my Middle Eastern Eggs platter. With my attendance at these kinds of brunches dwindling, it was nice to get a chance to hang out with two of my favorite lady friends.

Then Blue Steel led me to the West Village where I met up with Liz who was studying at the NYU library. She met me out front and looked very astute and cute in her glasses with all her books. We cruised over to an old haunt, Espiranto Café, on McDougal Street for a cup of coffee and what I referred to as “face time.” For some reason Liz and I can give each other a hard time, but when it comes down to it, we are totally sweet to each other. She is a valuable friend.

After we parted ways, I made the decision that it was time to shop. It had been ages since I’ve purchased anything, so it was on. Visits to Tower Video and Other Music set me back a good chunk of change, (btw: I think Dungen is doing an OM instore today). Then it was back to 186 to ready myself for the evening.

Open Your Eyes And Stare Into Mine.
The Faint’s second show at Webster ran smoothly and once again we were able to accommodate most of the kids who eagerly waited outside of the venue. Besides one guy who turned on the jerk at the end of the evening, I was completely psyched on all the shifts they were able to throw my way. The venues did a top notch job and everyone seemed pretty happy with the results. It’s just more confirmation that clubs like Mercury and Bowery are the best the city has to offer.

After I blew off a little steam on my walk, (thanks to Dana for keeping me in check and thinking about anything being pissed) I was able to score entrance to the Mercury Lounge. All the proper kids were in place to make it a killer evening. Jersey Dan lead Daylen, Noah, Jin and I downstairs for a quick hang before we ran back upstairs to catch the second half of the Helio Sequence. Dana had made it to the venue by the time her friends played and she was pumped for their poptastic set. I didn’t pay the best attention to their songs, but I did notice that they are all over the place. There is definitely a lot of blues, some rock and heavy splashes of electronic pop. They get by on pure energy. Helio is a duo from Portland who play drums and guitar over a loop that includes blips, beeps and bass lines. It’s about time I give their record a shot.

Following their set we ran around for 20 minutes before Cathy, Hutch and Jordan, better known as The Thermals, took the stage and blew through a set of their patented punky pop rock. As kids like Lucy, Tumbleweed, Beach, J.M., Jersey Dan, Tom, Jin, Dana, Mia, DTL, Noah and I rocked out to all of their hits; it dawned on me that seeing this band is the more fun than a high school mosh pit. Though they don’t cause a stir like a Pennywise, the kids pogo around while going absolutely crazy for them. This was evident on Saturday in a room that rarely sees a head nod due to fear of lost indie cred. It was refreshing to see some kids rocking out, though most of the set was blurred due to my persistent head banging.

The Thermals played all of my favorites, (in record time no less). Their set included It’s Trivia, Back to Gray, Every Stitch (perfect opener), How We Know, I Know the Pattern, No Culture Icons and my personal favorite A Stare Like Yours. The only disappointment was they didn’t play Everything’s Thermals as their closer. It wasn’t a big deal though because they freaking ripped.

After the show we picked up some Sparks at the corner deli and made our way up Avenue B to Lakeside Lounge where Ryan and Steph played a show with some dude. Emma and Pooja were hanging out in with the kids when we showed up, but the door guy didn’t take one of Lucy’s friend’s IDs so they went up to Bside. After finishing my Milwaukee’s Best, Dave, Jin and I walked up to join them. The bar was packed so we hunkered down around a seat we found at the bar. Later that evening the rest of the crew showed up and we took the evening to another last call. Jin, Dana and I made our way down Avenue while Jin and I closed the evening out with a Dunkin Donuts appearance.



Why Can’t Indie Kids Love Sports? I love sports and a big shame on you if you don’t. Anyway, I woke up and Jin was still hanging on the couch so we ordered some Gracefully sandwiches and settled into the Jets game. Well, actually, she didn’t pay much attention, but I was fired up at their dismal first half. Dana joined us for the miraculous second half and by the end of the game she totally impressed me with her football knowledge. She was referencing big plays that happened years ago, and I think it made my heart flutter. Anyway, they left me to my own devices until Del showed up to watch some, you guessed it, sports. We hung out watching the Steelers pull off a huge victory over the Tuna and his Cowboys. As we got closer to the Yankees attempt to sweep the Red Sox, Mikey, Beach, Daylen, Dan, Erin and Christie showed up for the game. We were a bit let down, but after the clock hit 1am we just wanted the game to end. Tonight we try our second attempt to get in the big show.

Nice work to everyone involved in the festival. We rocked it.

Additionally, I’m just wondering how many potheads were watching the game last night. When they showed the stat that the past two games’ length was 4 hours and 20 minutes did anyone have a Tequila Jones like reaction of “Yeeeeeeeeeah!”

Forecast Calls For Rock.
Wondering what to do with your Friday evening? Well, there are a million events this evening. Shows and parties are in full force, but there are a few events where your attendance is necessary. Let me give you the rundown.

First on the two do list is the Sam Champion and These Bones show at Luna Lounge (Ludlow btwn Houston and Stanton). It is considered a CMJ show, but it still adheres to all the typical goodness that characterizes the club. The show is FREE to any and all concertgoers. Sam Champion hits at 11pm and These Bones grace the stage promptly thereafter. You may want to get down there a bit early. Since it is CMJ and both bands are making a stir, this show will get hectic. Both of these bands have perfected their stage craft and they are ready to blow your minds. Make the effort. Support local music. Get drunk. Make out.

Check out Sam Champion’s Sets in the City interview over at Gothamist. Isn’t Noah a funny little fucker.

Also this rocking out this evening is Dirty On Purpose. They’ll be hitting at Fez (380 Lafayette) around 11:30pm. This means you have a decision to make. Choose wisely, but remember if you miss them tonight, they are playing with Arcade Fire on November 11th at the Bowery Ballroom. Word on the street is this show has sold out, but you may want to call the box office to see if they have any tickets left. It’s going to be a dandy. It’s FREE if you have a badge or $12 without.

Additionally, Anna and the tough as hell crew of Knife Skills (best band name ever... after weeezer) will be breaking your rock bones with an early set at Lit (2nd Avenue and something like 5th Street). Knife Skills are few and far between so you should take this chance to see them rock the basement at 8pm. I’m sure Jin will be running around like a parent making sure all their kids get to the proper soccer practices. Bring your ear plugs cause I’m sure these kids will be kicking out the jams at a level that will make your ears bleed with joy.

Good luck to Sam Champion, These Bones, Dirty On Purpose and Knife Skills. Unfortunately I’ll be working two shifts tonight and the only rock on my schedule consists of the second half of the Trail of Dead show at the Bowery. If you come through, say hi and buy me a shot, (or help me Culkin Lucy Beach who turns 21 at the stroke of midnight).

Two Down. Two To Go.
CMJ round two is now in the books. Last night was so much fun. My evening started with a stop by the Mud Truck to catch up with Kyle for a hot minute. He told me stories of battling off high school girls. He discussed fighting this young girl off while she tried dancing with him at Welcome to the Johnsons. Kyle is totally devoted to his lady friend, which is refreshing because most of my friends would welcome a 17 year old girl who was asking for it. Yuck. That is super dirty.

Next on the hit list was Webster Hall. We were gearing up for the first CMJ show at the club and despite the lengthy lists everything went well. From the ground floor all of the bands sounded pretty fantastic. They had Duke Spirit, Dogs Die in Hot Cars, The Music and Hope of the States. Denise and I were holding down the fort at the front door. We danced around like kids fresh off major pixie stick consumption. We talked about boys, (I’m so good at that despite the whole heterosexual thing) and spoke in accents. We were grasping at straws to pass the time. D. popped in a couple times to check on her people, and the whole night went pretty smoothly.

Julia relieved me once we knew things were nearly finished so I joined Dan, Denise and D. in the balcony for a few songs by the headliners. Hope of the States has a few things going for them. They are really passionate about the music they play. This is apparent in the band members bouncing around the stage and rocking out. It’s always good to see a high energy band, but there isn’t anything terribly defining in regards to their sound. We finished a drink or two and headed out of the club.

Dana and I walked over to the LES together, but we parted ways at Niagara. She wanted to go meet friends and I, at all costs, try to avoid Niagara. My sights were now set on a good night’s sleep, but my CMJ conscious got the best of me so I hopped into a cab and made way for the Bowery. The bitching security crew and Mia were hanging outside the club making sure everything was smooth. The manager came upstairs and was puzzled at my appearance. Apparently he thought some other kid was me. Big T. shook the kids hand and called him by my name, but there was no negative reaction. Yes, I look like everyone. It’s a blessing and a curse.

Stevo was working the mer