The Business Of Importance.
ATTENTION APARTMENT HUNTERS: My buddy Stevo (aka Mr. Fine Lad) is in a bit of a jam. He has to rent out the bedroom in his dope East Village apartment in a massive hurry. Check out his Craig’s List blurb and drop him a line if you or any of your good natured friends are in need of lodging for the next year. I’ll 100% vouch for Stevo which might not mean much since I’m an assbag.

Next up; take note of this bitching party going on in the East Village tomorrow evening. Who ever said Brooklyn is the new Manhattan and the Lower East Side is the new Brooklyn may have been right, (but they still are dicktards). If you read my post regarding the Arcade Fire show that Dirty On Purpose opened, then you surely won’t want to miss this gig. All hail DOP!


If you are in search of a punk(ier) sound on Wednesday night, head over to Pianos and catch Karen, Sivan and Carlos as Demander opens their month long residency at the venue. My plan is to catch the show that has Sam Champion slated to open, but those of you who can’t wait should get to Pianos tomorrow night!

And then there were two. Ty Willingham has been fired from his position as head coach of the Notre Dame Fighting Irish. WTF!!! Is there no pleasing these stinky elitist Irish hicks? Without a whole heap of talent to work with and some crazy academic standards, Willingham was still able to get the Irish to 2 bowl games in three years. I guess when you coach a team like the Yankees of college football (I’m talking popularity) people expect more. Bring on Butch Davis!

Mick Jagger Said It Best.
What a drag it is getting old. Turmoil is my new favorite emotion. Can a word like turmoil even squeeze under the banner definition of emotion? Well, I’m making it so. The past few days were like having my head in a vice. Every time something new was introduced, the clamps would tighten and my eyes would bulge further out of their sockets. Thankfully my vacation was spent heavily medicating myself with various drugs and alcohol. Now I’m back in the saddle. A whole two days. Trust me, I’m not a pretty sight.

Thanksgiving As Remembered By Me.
Wednesday night was a fucking blur. The evening started with Hawkins, Noah and I drinking tequila while we prepared the bird. We later moved to 186 sans Hawkins and proceeded to force ourselves to drink tequila at the kitchen table. An hour or so went by before Lou showed up with his regular bag of tricks only this time there was an addition. Lou called them poppers while I might call them crazy sticks. Have you done this shit yet? I’m no glorified drug user, and as a matter of fact, I haven’t even tried some of the most popular drugs on the books, but wow-wee, everyone should try this. Apparently its something they give you in the event of a heart attack which is funny because I thought they caused one. Think of those scenes from Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas where Johnny Depp is barreling down the desert highway and he breaks something open which tweaks him ever so slightly. Well, that my friends, is a popper and Lou brought some to 186. Post popper the night begins to blur. I managed to take enough tequila shots to kill a large donkey while Lou played house pharmacist to the number of kids that came through that included Stevo, Kyle, Cathy, Hawkins, Dee and Brenda. There were probably more who came over that evening, but like I said, the night got messy. Stevo some how managed to puke behind the toilet. Yes, I said behind the toilet. Cathy reminded me why I must move to San Francisco to marry her, but for some reason I don’t think she’ll have my hand. It was a hell of a night.

The next morning greeted me with a terrible headache and a wicked case of the shakes. Lou sat around watching some of the early football game while I prepared portions of the coming feast in our kitchen. As afternoon became evening, kids like Stevo, Kyle and Jin came through for dinner. I managed to whip up some biscuits, broccoli casserole, sautéed mushrooms, pesto mashed potatoes and some gravy. Stevo was kind enough to bring heaps of wine while Jin also brought some vino and a salad. Hawkins brought the bird, stuffing (which was a disaster thanks to me), drunken yams (which I forgot to try) and the desert. He also brought two lovely southern girls; Lindsey, who you may remember from previous posts, and her awesome friend Mandy. Kyle rocked out some amazing appetizer dishes which came in handy due to the bird needing a couple extra hours in the oven. Around 8pm we were ready to eat. We gathered round the feast and we each gave thanks for something. Not wanting to drop the sentimental bomb or something layered in cheese, I proudly gave thanks for pussy. Yeah, sorry to ruin a pretty picture, but give it a minute; it makes sense.

We wasted the evening drinking and gabbing through our self-imposed comas. We sat around watching the Seinfeld special and were joined by Little Chris and some girl from Wisconsin whose name might have been Angela. As Hawk, Angela and I stood in the kitchen discussing turkey day, I freaked out and explained to the two of them my personal necessity to either move to Wisconsin or the South to find me a nice girl with that wholesome accent. Though some might think its ridiculous, it drives me absolutely crazy. This airing of a preference may set me back a bit with some folks, but dammit, they have it right on. Do you think I could handle Alabama for a couple years while courting the future Mrs. Belin. Ewwww… Mrs. Belin…. That’s so nasty. Sorry mom and dad. Girls, we’ll take your name, but it better be awesome.

The rest of the evening was spent like the better part of my weekend. We wasted Thrusday night playing video games and getting shithoused. It was a solid weekend. A minor snag came when I learned that Erin had fallen ill while visiting her Dad’s family in the Philadelphia area. She had to be hospitalized due to a major asthma attack. Dan was quite concerned so I offered to drive him to her so she wouldn’t have to drive back by herself. Hawkins was kind enough to lend us his car for such a task so Saturday afternoon Dan and I drove to Pennsylvania. We stopped by the hospital to say hello to Erin before I said farewell and started my trip back to the city. Perry was in town for a couple nights so he decided to funk up Builder’s bed while Josh was on the tail end of his trip to the motherland. Now things are back to normal; at least they appear to be.

Thanks to everyone who participated in the first 186 Thanksgiving. We had a ton of fun and hope to do it again in the future.

In addition, futon sex is not permitted in our apartment unless at least one of the actors in the situation lives in 186, (at least?). Let that be a lesson to you all. You know who you are.

posted by jayloose at 3:57 PM 60 comments   

Is Everybody Ready To Rock?
Twas the night before the night before Thanksgiving and all through the city; all the creatures were stirring including two Beach’s. The tequila was poured with destruction and care; in hopes that a Culkin soon would be there. The rockers had gathered all snug by the bar; while many watched the butt wiggler dance from afar. With me in my scarf and Sean in his cap; we looked hipper than ever as a matter of fact.

Enough of that…


Here is a list of things Jay will give thanks for: My beautiful Mother, the two best sisters ever, Bruce the Moose, all the Melisano’s, my killer roommates, my bitching friends and their enduring friendship, Weezer, good health (kind of), the ability to self sustain, Tequila, all the girls in the world (even the crazy ones), Margie Q, Joy Division, Loose Record, The Mercury Lounge, The Bowery Ballroom, Webster Hall, my iPod and last but not least Pabst Blue Ribbon.

Now for a list of things Jay isn’t giving thanks for: Rent (the payment and the play), The Red Sox, George Bush, The Hidden Cameras, hang overs, a complete inability to figure out the opposite sex, Middle America, tofu, Notre Dame’s football record, Phish, Red Lobster, Oveis, a complete lack of balls, Brooklyn, Loan Payments, zits, Radiohead, The War in Iraq, Grandaddy, Con Edison and Scott Toilet Paper (late addition: Pitty Sing for Noah).

And I Know You’ll Win.
Am I hung over? The lethargic nature of my moments makes it apparent. Am I sick? The consistent hugging of porcelain leads me to believe so. Am I an idiot? Typically this question doesn’t need to be answered, but today my head is emphatically howling YES. As I sit in my office sipping coffee and realizing why Blink 182 was one of my favorite bands in high school, another wave of wagon riding comes to mind only to be ignored over the course of the next few hours. Allow me to recount my well worn path to the morning after.

The evening began with a trip to the grocery store. Since I’m fairly neurotic, there was no way my Thanksgiving shopping would be left until the last minute, (I’ll wait for Christmas to fuck up a holiday). Key Foods wasn’t nearly as packed as expected, but there were a large number of crazies in the house. Take for instance the old lady who was in front of me at checkout. She insisted that the checkout girl open the register and exchange her pennies for a dime because she couldn’t be bothered to carry around so much change. It was an on going battle, but the woman waited five minutes for her fucking dime. I was awfully close to giving her a quarter and asking her to move it along.

Mike stopped in for some finalizing of the new Loose Record logo. We are damn near finished with it, and hopefully you’ll all dig it. In my humbly bias opinion; it is quite fresh. Soon we’ll have heaps of schwag to hand out so you can be the first on your block to adorn a pin or t-shirt with our namesake shamelessly plastered all over it. After we finished up, I made my way over to Dana’s house to hang for a quick minute prior to hitting up the Bowery. Dana said she had a present for me and since I love presents a spring was in my step. She hinted that it was a box set so my mind began to wonder… Nirvana… New Order… I was way off. It was ten times better. The new Michael Jackson box set. The Ulitmate. It contains four CDs, a DVD and a huge book. The best part is that is spans his entire career. If you’ve yet to realize, Michael Jackson is the fucking man, (outside of the whole fucking kids thing). Thanks Dana!

After some disgust while watching The Biggest Loser Ever or whatever that show is called, we made way for the Bowery. We were greeted by Noah who was working the door and Sean who was keeping him company. Merida hooked us up with some beverages and we cruised upstairs to get set for Apollo Sunshine. The three boys from New England have made it a long way since I last saw them. In fact, they rocked. They have hilarious songs, ridiculous stage antics and some massive guitar hero moves. Their set included a strobe light session, additional musicians playing guitars, tambourines and cowbells, a song that feature those tiny guitars who's name I can’t begin to spell and a double necked guitar/bass. Needless to say, my eyes were as happy as my ears. Stand up and take note, Apollo Sunshine will take over. As Dana pointed out, they just need a big act like Ween to take them on tour.

The night grew longer and tequila Tuesday came into effect. Sean, Beach and I kicked things off and later some other peps including Dana got in the mix. Someone should follow us around and take pictures of our faces post tequila shot. Last night would have made a hilarious collage. We retired to the basement to meet up with Tumbleweed. Lucy and I thought Beach couldn’t find him, but then Danny, in all his furry glory, cruised into the bar. The evening was shaping up to be a lot of fun.

We returned to are spot in the corner and after explaining to this kid that I wasn’t Nate we got another shot, (coincidently, Nate got a call later that night from someone who mistook me for Nate on my walk home). Dogs Die In Hot Cars started their set with a solo acoustic song done by their lead singer which recalled the opening to the Franz Ferdinand record. Their set was decent, but holy cow are they gay. I mean, the lead singer just screams gay. This isn’t a bad thing, but wow. Katie and I were basking in its glory. It was like A-Ha, Dexy, The Talking Heads and The Cure had one giant orgy and we were watching its replay. They have a couple songs that make me wiggle which remind me that the butt wiggler was in full effect last night. That guy is really on top of his shit. The night ended with more tequila in the basement and as I feel my arm seizing up, I’m reminded of the few that weren’t necessary.

Happy Turkey! Everyone have safe travels. Call me if you are in town and want to join us for the big 186 meal. And now for your moment of zen:

posted by jayloose at 1:21 PM 4 comments   

Dead Wrong. I’m Long Gone.
Well, your days of knowing Jay Belin are over. Sorry kids, but its time for this chicken to say goodbye to the coop. Where is it I’m going? The destination has yet to be set, but I can promise you one thing; my new home will be international. Don’t get discouraged. This isn’t another political rant about the evils of our current administration. This isn’t another monologue regarding my fear of war and life as a living target. This is merely an attempt for me to hide from my student loans. Yesterday my mail consisted of a Union newsletter, a bank statement and the most deadly of all, a Sallie Mae letter. It seems my first payment is due next month which means its time to disappear. We had a good run. For all those that I’ve offended, I’m sorry. For all those I’ve yet to offend, I’m sorry. See you when I get there.

Tell Me You’re The Lucky One.
Maybe I won’t move away. Maybe I’ll just switch to clean living. Maybe I’ll cut $4 drinks out of my life. Maybe I’ll become a square, get some pleated kakis and enjoy life working in administration. Fuck it all. What I really need is a rich girl. This is an open call to all rich girls. I cook. I clean. I consider myself a morally aligned kid. I will make you happy. Just make me rich. In fact, this is an open call to rich boys as well. At this point I’ll take any option that doesn’t involve a monthly payment for the next 25 years of my life. Interested Sugar Mommas/Daddies should inquire within.

Last night I spent some time sitting in the dark hatching up schemes to make some extra money. My best bet will be finding a weekend job that will put hook me up with some pocket cash for food during the week. Yeah, I already have a night job, but it isn’t as consistent as I need it to be. I’ll hold onto my job working with the clubs and search for a bar back shift or two. If I spent my Friday bar backing at gAyPT, then my weekly budget would withstand this onslaught from my lenders. Friday sucks anyway. Who cares if you are working 60 hours a week just to be able to party one night a week? It’s totally worth it.

Ok, enough of this bummer. Let me get on to the good stuff. Cami stopped by around 9pm last night for a beer before heading down to the Bowery. She put me in good spirits which is never a difficult thing. We sat in the kitchen drinking Coronas and listening to Joy Division. This is something I could do for the rest of my life. Sit at across the table from a good friend, talking about nothing, having a great time and pausing for the occasional mind blowing drum fill. On our way to the club we ran into Mike whose band Winter Pageant just finished a set at the Mercury. Being a bit of a slacker, I’ve continually missed their live shows, but one day, Jin will snag me off the couch and we’ll be king and queen of the pageant.

We cruised into the club and we met by all the usual suspects. Have I mentioned how awesome the entire crew is? I’m a lucky shit. Anyway, we walked up the back steps and ran right into Sean who was grooving around being so Sean. Chernin and Merrida were hanging out near the bar. Merrida had me perplexed. She was carrying around a tequila shot taking nips off the damned thing. Crazy right? We caught the last couple songs of Blanche who really don’t do it for me. It reminds me of the carnie show on HBO. They are a big 1940’s wannabe freak show who play crazy music and have an even crazier aesthetic. They reminded me of being afraid of clowns. During changeover Cami went out front to smoke a stoge so I ran over to say hello to Gigs who was hanging with a couple of her friends. Andy popped his head in and created a John Hughes type moment, but I’m not going to explain. Let’s just say it was hilarious, but everyone is so cool that it doesn’t make a difference. Upon Cami’s return we retreated to the basement bar to score a quick drink before running back to the corner for The Kills.

So back in 2002 I purchased The Kills' Black Rooster EP at Other Music on the basis that it was released on the beloved Dim Mak. I was instantly sold. They had the blues swagger of the Detroit happenings, the darkness embedded in the late 70’s Warhol scene and killer drum beats that make my hips swivel like a madman. Then their full-length dropped a year later on Rough Trade, (another label close to my heart). The record didn’t bowl me over, but it did have different versions of the EP tracks which made it a high rotation record. The problem is, this band is fucking boooooring live. No matter how much sexual tension they try to convey with the positioning of their mic stands, guitar fucking, singing in the same microphone and general innuendos; the stage looks empty and it feels like you’re watching a talent show.

Don’t get me wrong, The Kills sounded great last night. They played my favorite hits from the record and some of their new songs facilitated some boogie in my step. This is all well and good when I’m in the comfy chair jamming out, but when I’m seeing it live; my eyes need to be as happy as my ears. Last night the only thing keeping my eyes interested was Sean’s animated nature. Here are a few observations about last night:

--- They need a drummer. They need someone to ground the band. Right now its just these two floating around being butthumpers.
--- The lead singer bears a strong resemblance to writer Marc Spitz.
--- Sean is one of the best kids to have with you at a show.
--- The Kills story of coming together mirrors that of the Postal Service. Chicken or egg?

Cami and I ducked out prior to the end of their set. We stopped in the Allen Street Park for a few minutes to hang before departing. Beach was still at the Mercury so I popped in for a quick drink. Dana and Mia were reveling in Sam Roberts’ hotness so I spent most of my time trying to point the boy out. No luck though. With a healthy buzz and a need for sleep Dana and I broke out of the club. We exchanged stories about Friday night, had a laugh and said goodnight.

It was a good Monday.

posted by jayloose at 1:30 PM 6 comments   

I Was Feeling ‘Bout Half-Passed Dead.
Faithful reader do not get discouraged by my lack of meaningful (or meaningless depending on how perceive it) updates. As the focus of this new job comes into scope, a better understanding of an update schedule will develop. For now, bear with me and enjoy the ride. First off I’d like to say a few words regarding Wednesday’s show at Pianos.

Prior to the Head Set / Sam Champion gig a bunch of kids rolled through 186 for beers. Sean Bones and I decided we should start a band that will take down Walk Humongous. Be prepared for the band that will knock the white cowboy boots off of Williamsburgers. We will destroy all in our path, and Walk Humongous is first on the list. As the time grew close, Max, Dan and I finished up a card game and cruised to the club with Emma, Matt, Pooja and Dana. Pianos was nice a packed which is always a welcome sight when your friend’s bands are playing. After some quick hellos, we slid to the back room for Sam Champion. They debuted their new line up with Sean (x-bones) on guitar. Sam Champion let the screws loose on this set and really brought the rock. With the addition of Sean on guitar, little changes, but the songs do have more of a big Alt-country-indie-rock feel rather than the singer songwriter style portrayed by the quieter sets. It’s nice to see the band swing to opposite sides of pendulum. Their huge set pleased all the warm bodies in the packed room. I’m looking forward to watching them evolve as a four-piece.

Everyone filed outside to get some fresh air after Sam Champion finished. Christie was kind enough to score me a margarita from El Sombrero which I sipped while talking to Dave and some of the other Razor and Tie crew that came to the show. Jin was hanging with Dj who was a pal and let me nip off his Jim Beam. The three of us returned to the back room to catch a few songs from The Head Set. Pianos is rarely mentioned in a discussion of my favorite clubs, but something was on the money Wednesday night because The Head Set sounded superb. Jordan’s confident swagger fits his personality, and he just lets it shine through on stage. Though one could easily lump them with the New York sound (read: The Strokes, The Walkmen, etc), it’s important to note the instances where they step away from these bands. First of all that’s Jordan’s real voice you are hearing. Julian Casablancas please take note; though I love the Strokes, real singers don’t need vocal effects. Additionally, there are some unique guitar parts and drumming that give it a reggae or dancehall type feel. If I’m not mistaken, Elliot pulls off some great upstrokes on his axe that add a great layer to their well constructed songs.

Near the latter half of their set, Dj, Jin and I ducked out and made our way to The Delancey in hopes of seeing Free Blood which is a band that includes a couple members from one of my favorites, !!! (Chk Chk Chk). Unfortunately they were hitting for another hour so we decided to have a quick beer and call it a night.

Take A Load Off Belin.
Thursday wasn’t nearly as crazy as Wednesday, but it still had all the elements of a solid day. My morning and afternoon was spent in class at Cooper Union. My new position requires some training so I found myself back in the classroom performing the same time passing techniques I employed during college. Did I mention my severe distaste for schooling?

My early evening was spent with Christina who came over for our Loose meeting. We dined on the delicious Tiny’s prior to getting down to business. The meeting went really well, and we have resolved our copyright issues and are now ready to move forward with a new logo. Keep your eyes peeled for the new digs. Mike did a great job. In the aftermath of the meeting we toasted our step forward with some delicious bourbon Builder had squirreled away in his bedroom. The boys left Christina and I so we watched my taping of the O.C. episode that ran early that evening. Did you see it? It was mentioned in a previous update, but if you missed it, let me know I have it on tape. The Walkmen were featured in the episode, and if you know what’s good for you, you’ll see the episode.

Endless Shrimps And A Side Of Puke.
Friday’s class was a breeze. Entertainment was provided by an email scandal surrounding the pending trip to Red Lobster. Christie was kind enough to entertain me during my lunch hour. We sat on a 9th Street stoop and sipped coffee in the decent weather. Builder and I sat around after work bitching at one another before the Shrimps crew began to trickle in. By 7:30pm we had Chernin, Beach, Daylen, Mia and Gigs in the house. We took a quick knifer and set out for Time Square. On our way in the subway, Builder made the call on a perfect Belin that found Noah, Builder, Gigs and I in a cab while the rest of the crew took the subway.

Time Square is a terrible place. Why do people flock to it? Tourists are fucking idiots. Anyway, Red Lobster was a mad house. Think of a packed show or some Vice party at Happy Endings and then image it ten times worse. So the party moved over to the bar portion of the three story fuckfest and sipped drinks while waiting for shrimp. With the prospect of a table growing distant, Noah and I decided to take matters into our own hands. We managed to snag a booth in the bar area where Builder, Noah and I ate a disgusting amount of food. This kind of shit needs to stop. Chili’s is definitely worth the bloated feeling one gets after eating Awesome Blossoms and what not, but I’ll never eat at Red Lobster again, (at least not until I have a few kids and work a shitty job in middle America). After dinner we took a quick walk, but it didn’t help much. We cruised upstairs to say farewell to the rest of the party. Noah, Lucy, Tumbleweed, Eileen and I snagged the F Train and returned to the neighborhood.

Noah and I hung out for a few before he took off and left me waiting to decide what the hell should be done with my evening. Stevo stopped by around 1am. His visit pushed me over the edge, so I chugged a Sparks, took a shower and made way for Welcome to the Johnsons. Did everyone in the East Village stop by Johnsons on Friday night? The bar was ridiculously packed, but we got drinks and had a seat with Dana and her friend Teresa. A few drinks and a few punches from Dana later, we were joined by Dee and Hawkins who added to the whole craziness of the evening. By the time last call was announced, everyone seemed to be in the bag. Everyone except me.

We figured our best bet would be a return back to 186 where we quickly woke the sleeping beauty known as Builder. We retired to the kitchen for some drunken antics that got sketchy as hell. It was the most awkward situation that has unfolded in 186’s chow room. Eventually most people trickled out while Dana and I decided it was time for her to watch last weeks episode of the O.C. Bad idea. I was passed out by the end and Dana can barely remember a second of it.

Talk Like A Moron. Act Like A Kid.
Saturday didn’t get started until 3pm. At this point I was on a mission for food. A quick call to Hawkins found me at Clinton Street Bakery with the Hawk, Anoush, Caroline (little Burley!) and her friend Chase. We dined over discussions of prescription drugs and how to get pot at different vacation spots. Little did they know, I’ve never gone anywhere. After brunch I hustled home to clean up for a night of work at Webster Hall. The Hives were headlining with the Rogers Sisters and The Deadly Snakes opening up. The night was a bit of a cluster fuck because we had a sold out show and the club had a big line for the dance party. Since I was directing traffic on Saturday, I froze my ass off. Following our shift, Noah and I went down to 186 to waste the evening watching U2 on Saturday Night Live. They are such loveable wanks. By the way, when did SNL get so fucking funny?

Sunday, Busted Sunday.
My Xanax induced slumber was interrupted by my need for football. Dan came over to watch the Jets stumble to a win against the Cleveland Browns. It was a terrible game, but Curtis played well and we got the win. Then I watched the Giants drop a ton of passes in Eli Manning’s NFL debut under center. It was quite pitiful, but sometimes you just have a bad day. Sunday the entire receiving core for the Giants had a collective poor game on Sunday. It was back to Webster Hall for work. The second night of The Hives was really mellow and the few songs I got to see were fantastic. Though I didn’t like the set they played at Irving a few months ago, they sounded right on last night. Pelle is a riot.

Turkey Day.
Are you one of the kids who, like me, decided to skip the holiday traffic this Thanksgiving to stay in the city? New York will come to a standstill, but we still want to party. If you know me or are completely at a loss, drop me a line because we are cooking a big dinner on Thursday. Consider yourself invited. It should be a drunken good time with the leftovers, (yeah, that’s what I’m calling the kids who stayed behind). If you have turkey plans and just want to party later in the weekend, give me a ring and we’ll set up a Culkin.

Random Notes.
*** The Sons of Sound changed their name to Saints and Lovers. They have a December 18th gig at the Mercury Lounge with Bishop Allen and We Are Scientists. Nice work on another local all-star evening.

*** Vanilla Ice or The Crocodile Hunter?

*** Who would have guessed? Craig IS crazy, (thanks to Jordan for the links).

posted by jayloose at 2:18 PM 4 comments   

FREE U2! Today!
U2 will be performing live tomorrow, Monday November 22 in DUMBO north of the the Brooklyn Bridge. The performance is being filmed by MTV for a feature on the release of "How to Dismantle and Atomic Bomb", and tickets are free through 1iota:

www.1iota.com , click on MTV surprise performance (it doesn’t say U2, but it is)

Monday, November 22, 2004
Arrival Time: 2:30 pm (show starts at 3:00pm)

Meeting Place: Empire Fulton Ferry State Park
Corner of Plymouth & Washington street
Brooklyn, NY (btwn the Brooklyn and Manhattan Bridges)

(You can take the F train from Manhattan to the York St. stop)

posted by jayloose at 8:21 AM 1 comments   

Welcome To The Promise Land.

I advise Builder to divert his eyes, lest he wants a perma-hard-on.

posted by jayloose at 3:19 PM 4 comments   

posted by jayloose at 9:45 AM 0 comments   

posted by jayloose at 3:23 PM 0 comments   

This Ain't Your Momma's Rock N' Roll.


*** So you already have plans tonight (Pianos... bitches), but tomorrow hop on the train and head uptown. Knife Skills will rock your shit, and then you have the whole K Records/Portland scene which is hotter than white cowboy boots. Do it!

posted by jayloose at 6:20 PM 5 comments   

Don’t Worry. We’re In No Hurry.
Last night was a blast. It began with Builder and me going over various business papers and me getting my Flavorpill listings in on time. Dana stopped in after work and our plans to get dinner were nearly thwarted by her love for the television. First it was some Million Billionaire show and then the Vibe Awards came on which could have spelled disaster. After much deliberation we made it to Kai Kai Thai on 1st and 1st, but I don’t believe it is Kai Kai any longer. Can someone explain this to me? We enjoyed a nice serving of gossip (I’m such a dink sometimes) along with our Pad whatevers and spring rolls.

Mike was hanging at 186 so I swept him up on my way to the Hanger. Natalka and I were supposed to talk party, but unfortunately she left minutes before we arrived. We decided to skip on drinks there and head up to Bside. On the way up Avenue B, we ran into the lady of honor outside of Max’s. She had just finished dinner with Molly, Brian, John, Christian, Kimmy, Ariel (I think) and maybe a few others. We joined forces and cruised up to the bar. The friendly confines of Bside were extremely inviting last night. There was a sense of nostalgia in last night because, as Anna put it, “I’m going out the same way I came in.” Bookends are choice. We all should have the ability to bookend our life. To put the sugar on the doughnut, Anna approached me when the White Stripes, You’re Pretty Good Looking came on the jukebox. She reminded me of the first time we met. It was a few summers ago in Grass Roots Tavern after a Kick gig at the Continental. We immediately clicked on all cylinders and by the end of the night I was promising her a mix tape.

Yeah, go ahead and judge me. A mix tape! How fucking cliché am I? Just hold your judgment for one goddamn second. There I was, dumbfounded by a beautiful California girl who loved rock n’ roll and was actually interested in hearing me blabber on about bands she knew only by name. So a mix tape was the answer. Was I trying to win her over? You bet your ass I was. You meet a girl like Anna Lane and you automatically want her in your corner.

As Anna told me last night, she figured that tape would never be made. Little did she know, that night I was already constructing the zenith of all tapes in my head. There is always that innate want to push your taste on someone, but for Anna it was about introducing her to the rock that would fill the rest of her summer days in NYC. The mix tape was constructed in the days that followed, and I carried it around like a lap dog hoping to see her in the L.E.S. The next time I saw Anna, a surprising handoff was made and a kickass friendship was started. Anna and I have seen some good times and even a bad time or too, but through it all, it’s the things like our trip to D.C., our nights together on dance floors and my visit to San Francisco that stand out beyond anything else.

Additionally, there is one moment with Ms. Lane that will always stay with me. She probably doesn’t remember this lazy day, but I sure do. It was like a dream. The summer we met, we spent a day lying in Washington Square Park starring up at the clouds talking about nothing in general. We weren’t together in any sense of the word, so don’t misconstrue any of this, but my head was in her lap and at that moment, I was able to feel completely vulnerable again. Though it was fleeting, it did help me realize that sometimes we just need to get lost in nothing and feel completely at ease with it.

This sounds like a longwinded love letter, but it’s just my thoughts surrounding a classic girl. It’s not like she is leaving forever. Anna did promise to be back later this summer. Will she make it? I know one guy who sure hopes so. Good luck Anna!

As the night pressed on, Mike and I were playing some Connect Four when Josh Stein joined us. Josh informed me he is now part of the Flavorpill team which is sweet because that kid is entrenched in a scene I couldn’t begin to explain; burlesque. Then Hawkins felt me up upon his entry with Sean and Anoush. Hawkins has to stop groping me. Doesn’t he know I hate it when anything touches me? I’m a fucking head case. He should be the first to realize this. Anoush and I got to bounce some business ideas off each other. His company is called ECAD Consulting and it’s an Apple only consulting and solutions firm. They are currently based out of NYC, but Anoush has plans to open operations on the West Coast. Anoush and I were neighbors during our first semester at NYU, and the kid was always working on his computer. The company he’s started seems like a natural fit. If you, your family members and/or especially your bosses are clueless and need some assistance setting something up for your business or home, drop Anoush a line. He’ll hook you up; my boy is wicked smmmmart. Cami stopped in and we got to have a quick hang before I decided to head home for some much needed rest.

And It’s A Pretty Nice Haircut.
Now that I’m done with all the reminiscing, allow me to get to some business. Tonight, a bitching show is going down at Pianos. The bill showcases The Head Set who is currently in the second leg of their month long residency (congrats!). They will hit at 9:30pm. Taking the stage prior to tHS is the good ole boys of Sam Champion who now feature Sean x-Bones on guitar. They are kicking you in the nuts around 8:30pm. You’ve heard me talk a lot about both of these bands. You know I dig them, so get off you ass, come down to the club and figure it out for yourself. The show is only seven damn dollars. Eat Subway this evening and save the rest of your cash for this rock show. Make sure you arrive on time because a birdy told me 8:30SHARP.

Question: Does anyone know if Chicago’s, The Changes is playing? WTF?

posted by jayloose at 10:04 AM 13 comments   

posted by jayloose at 3:03 PM 6 comments   

Field Day For The Sundays.
Another weekend has come and gone, and though I spent most of Friday trying to convince Beach that my drinking skills have declined, Friday night would beg to differ. My Dirty On Purpose imposed hangover lasted all day. A headache refused to leave me alone, but my last day in the old office couldn't have been better. It came and went like any old day, which is exactly what I requested. No parties. No speeches. No nothing. My boss teary towards quitting time, but the younger crew was pumped for the post work drinks. David, Lauren, David and I walked around in search of cheap margaritas. Our search led us to Caliente Cab Co. Its one of the cheesiest places in the neighborhood, but it suited our needs. We got the evening started with heaps of frozen drinks and shots of tequila. David, who has no qualms about being a lightweight, got hilariously drunk. He also threw down for the bill, which was amazing. Thanks David! Lauren's friend Barbara joined us and rounded out the crew nicely. I was really lucky to have worked in an office with amazing people.

My night was just beginning, but I could barely hold myself up to hail a cab. I made a quick stop by 186 to pick-up the tape of Thursday's episode of The O.C. before heading to Dana's to bask in her illness while catching up on the Cohen's with her and Sylvia. This week’s episode was a hundred times better than the season premier. We see the kids quickly returning to last season’s form. Seth tried the whole table top love profession. Ryan saw Marissa making out with sketch-city, the pool boy. Summer is trying to hold out against the Cohen charm while Marissa throws her frumpy self all over the town. Did you see that house Caleb lives in? I’d shit my pants on the regular if my hat hung in that domicile. The big story on this episode, besides Jimmy’s desperate attempt to get Haley to stay on the show, was Caleb’s indictment. The family was sitting around enjoying some Chinese take-out when the poe-poe showed up to take grandpa to the slammer. It’s up to Sandy to bail him out, but what can he do with a cunt like Julie Cooper threatening to drag Kristen through the mud with her husband. This week should prove to be mucho interesting.

Once we finished our post show wrap up, I made way for the Bowery. Being one to sacrifice fashion (or lack there of) for comfort, I froze my ass off on the way to the venue. Kyle was waiting out front when I arrived, and we quickly slid into the warmth thanks to D. who was working the door. We searched the ballroom for pieces of the crew and eventually stumbled upon Nate and Amy who were guarding the back corner. While we waited for Hot Snakes to take the stage we did a quick tequila shot and I endured some ribbing from Tony who wouldn’t believe that Nate and I aren’t brothers. We definitely have a separated at birth look to us, but can’t we just leave that joke alone? Hot Snakes finally took the stage and their first three songs were a little off. They weren’t flashing the innate power of the music, so when they finally took a break after the third song, numerous onlookers (including me) yelled, “Turn it up!”

By the fourth song, they were rocking my face off. Some might think the monotone vocals get old after 40 minutes, but they could have played all night. The crowd was definitely digging the rock Hot Snakes was serving. They played one of my favorite new songs, Mystic Decade, early in the set, but they also (from my accounts) neglected to play another great new song, Kreative Kontrol. It didn’t really matter because they played all my jams off of Suicide Invoice. Halfway through their set Jin called me from an oddball number. She told me to shoot up to the balcony for a quick drink. She was hanging with none other than the infamous Scat Turdly who also goes by Jamie, (for work and church purposes). It was great to finally meet the faceless rogue who pleasantly pollutes the comments section with witty banter.

We returned to the floor where Denise came up to join us for the rest of the set. Following the encore and the conclusion of the set, S.T. came down and graciously bought us tequila shots. How many? I couldn’t begin to remember, but he played a major factor in me passing out at the foot of my bed in all my clothes while using a backpack for a pillow. We went downstairs to hangout for a bit, and Nate took me upstairs to meet the band. It was my first time in the Bowery band room, and like a jackass, I lined my pockets with Coronas. Thankfully the band wasn’t in there to see me pulling my own sketchball move, but we ran into John on the main floor and I can’t even remember what was discussed.

Never Under Estimate The Weight.
Fast forward 8 hours, and I had to peal myself off the floor of my bedroom. Builder returned home from a self-imposed exodus to New Jersey with a heap of good books which reminded me it was time to finally read The Catcher in the Rye. With J.D.’s masterpiece in my pocket, I hit the F Train for a trip out to Brooklyn. Since it had been nearly a month since I ventured to the faraway borough, it felt nice to take a day trip even if a transfer was necessary.

Noah’s place has changed since my last visit. The boys who reside in that apartment have turned it into a prime party spot, (that’s a big hint to Noah). We sat around listening to some records before Noah destroyed me with a single knifer. Then we got the bright idea to play video games, but it was a little too intense for this stoney baloney. We sat back and enjoyed a Dave Clark Five record which really blew my mind. For awhile I thought it was a Beatles record, but Noah set me straight. Dan and Emma stopped in and we all marveled at the new William Shatner record, Has Been. The album is so self-effacing, but as Dan pointed out, when you are a joke and you embrace the fact that you are a joke; you are no longer a joke. Shatner enlisted Ben Folds to produce the record, and though the desired results may have satisfied the creators, it made me want to puke in my mouth. Shatner is so full of shit and the fact that Henry Rollins added some vocals to this proves he should be lumped in the same category.

One bright spot on the record was the Joe Jackson assisted cover of Pulp’s Common People. The arrangement of the song and the spoken word style of vocalization gave the song an entirely different fell. It stripped it of its party atmosphere and forces listeners to take part in the tragedy of the lyrics. All bands attempting to cover artists should use this as a blue print. It affects the audiences approach and emotion relative to the song.

Dan and I walked over to his neighborhood for a quick hang before Dilly and Joe from Arbor Day came to pick us up. On our way to the city, we picked up Andy and stopped by Abe’s to snag the Bahamas’ new record. From what I heard, the new record is much more thought out than the rushed first effort, (partly my fault). The record shows their maturity and willingness to grow as a cohesive song writing team. Let’s hope they play another show.

Alister, Kyle and I hung out for awhile at 186 prior to me popping into the Mercury Lounge to have a quick drink with Beach, Tumbleweed, Makia, Daylen and Lucy. We snagged a beer and caught a set from Your Code Name Is: Milo. It’s a terrible name, but the band kicked some serious ass. They are a five-piece British band who pumps out aggressive rock akin to At the Drive In, but with more metal drippings than hardcore tendencies. The little elf of a lead singer squeals and screams when needed, but he brings it back to earth for the verses. Expect a full-length out soon. They may a good version of bands like Funeral for a Friend.

After their set, I stopped into the Luna Lounge to catch a glimpse at Pela. I only caught a couple songs, but they weren’t really doing it for me. This could have been due to the fact that YCNI:M just finished filling me with the need to break things. This prompted me to go back to 186 to slug a quick beer before returning to Luna for a solid Arbor Day set. These guys are starting to come together, and even though they still wait till the 11th hour to promote their shows, the room always has bodies in it. They finished up and the crew milled about outside, as we always do, so I decided to shoot back over to the Mercury Lounge. The Upwelling was taking the stage, and this three-piece didn’t do much for me. Cami, Builder and Alister stopped in so we took the party to the basement for awhile. After a few more drinks, a successful Culkin on Makia and some drunken J.B. antics, Cami and I set out to meet up with the rest of the crew.

On our trek to The Hanger, we realized no one was actually there so we decided to grab some food. After much deliberation (Katz or Bistro), we decided to hit up 7A. Naturally I scored a Tuna Melt and Cami was all about her burger. We enjoyed the food and the company before parting ways. Cami and I always have a kick ass time when we go on little missions. Then I wondered aimlessly trying to find the kids, but they weren’t picking up their cells. Sarah and Sean were in Johnson’s where everyone else was supposed to show but didn’t. We stopped back into the Mercury to no avail and decided to call it a night. A half hour later, Dan, Erin, Kyle, Stevo and Deeznuts walked into 186 and we sat up talking about nothing of importance for hours.

No Rest On The Sabbath.
My non-alcohol induced slumbers always end a bit to early, but it ended up being a good thing because Dana and I were able to meet for a cup of coffee prior to the Loose Record meeting. Dana took me to her regular spot on Avenue B called DT/UT, (I think it stands for Downtown Uptown). After managing to spill my coffee twice, we finished up so I wouldn’t be late. Christina and Builder were already working when I returned. Mike soon joined us and we had a promising meeting. Following the bizness at hand, Mike and I set out to find a piece of equipment he could shoot for the logo. We walked down to the Triple-Five store so Rothfeld could do a quick exchange and then made way to Union Square.

Our first stop was Guitar Center on 14th and 6th. They have tons of equipment in that store. We searched for my cousin Jared who is a manager in the store, but we came up empty. We did find the holy grail of logo equipment. I took the tag off it and Mike took heaps of photos. We were psyched to find it, but pressed on in search of a receiver or soundboard that could be the big winner. Stops at Circuit City and PC Dicktard and Son proved to be worthless so we called it an evening. Later that night, I was called into work the Helmet show at the Bowery Ballroom. It was super slow, but I had a good time working the 2nd door. The nice part was I was home by 11pm and watched a tape of Arrested Development. That show is gold.

New Ryan Leaf.
Yesterday I started my new job. Having an office with a door is so fucking sweet. Right now I’m just hanging out on my lunch hour listening to The Flaming Lips while hammering out a blog entry. Expect more of this in the future. For now enjoy a couple links.

*** If you are looking for action tonight, check this out.

*** If you hate anything below the Mason Dixon, check this out, (Thanks Tumbleweed).

*** If you love drugged up former playmates, check this out, (Thanks Dana).

posted by jayloose at 1:20 PM 4 comments   

Ten Years To The Minute.
Ahhhhhh… this feels good. It is my final work day in a cube. On Monday I’m moving into my own office. I’m considering driving home to get the show flyers that adorned my bedroom for so many years, but come to think of it, mom striped them off the walls and painted the room. So I’m in need of some artwork for my office, because it is lacking serious flavor. Honestly, the new NYU Law building’s administrative offices have only one color; grey. The designers must have looked to Brazil for inspiration. There are many shades of grey, but its all grey. The carpets, the walls, my file cabinets, my desk, my lamp, my computer and even my chair are all grey. The office in need of a serious color injection, but I’ll probably just hang up my Ramones poster.

Today marks the end of an era. Since 2000 I’ve worked with the people in my office. A few have come and gone, but we are still the same core. My initial job was a student worker, but my need to stop the financial bleeding along with the departure of my superior opened the door for me as a full-time employee. Did the kid who used to play air guitar along to his Queen records envision this life style? Definitely not, but something has to pay the bills so I can play in the nighttime. Thankfully my boss, Margie, has championed me throughout the years. She guided me through these questionable years; an action which deserves my utmost appreciation.

Packing my desk is easier than expected. Though the new office has me totally psyched, I’m going to miss my frontline co-workers. Early morning conversations with my boy David and various scandalous talks with Lauren will be sorely missed. The recent “Shot Challenge” between co-workers may culminate tonight if the Hot Snakes don’t contact me soon, but hopefully it will sort itself out. So you know, I have to take a shot every time I say “Bitches.” My count is nearing 20.

Make Room For Our New Friends.
Yesterday’s post work hours were filled with… guess what… more work! After some home cooked Japanese treats and an extremely difficult abstain from watching the first half of the O.C. (it was taped, so don’t give me any clues), I headed for the Bowery. On my way down there, I ran into Dan of Second Dan which is an Australian band that is making some New York appearances while Dan finishes some schooling. Keep a look out for their name in the coming months.

It’s been awhile since my last time through the Bowery, so it was great to catch up with all the security guys. Noah was working the door last night and made me pay double, which wasn’t cool, but I dealt. Del was hanging by his side with a solid buzz working. We decided to go sit at the balcony bar for a few where Jim was making the drinks. His buddy (maybe Andy) joined us as did Jin and DTL. Jin may have been the only person more psyched for the show than me. Dirty on Purpose started their set to a handful of people and by the end of it, the room was filling up. They kicked off the set with my favorite song, Monument which is an instrumental track DJ wrote. The song began with some haunting sounds from George’s guitar. They had the unique familiarity of whale calls or something that was immersed in water. These sounds mixed with the sporadic strobe of the stage lights made for a grandiose intro to one of the best songs in my heavy rotation.

There is something about Dirty on Purpose that is simply untouchable. They have it all. The songs are there, and even the new tunes (which George later told me aren’t new, but they are newish) have this undeniable authenticity. It’s nice to see five kids really care about what their producing rather than just writing a song built around one hook and rushing its release to make a few dollars, (only to be a footnote in most press outlets a year later). They played some of my favorites like (and forgive me if the names are wrong) Go Back to Sleep, Mind Blindness, All New Friends and Spider Eyes. A great aspect of the band is the delicate nature of all the vocalists. Some may misconstrue this as a lack of confidence, but even though each vocal part feels like it could fall off the map at any second, they are right on.

Let’s take a quick second to recognize George’s craft on his guitar. The kid must sleep with his guitar. The guy knows how to get exactly what he wants from his instrument. I was watching his finger tabbing while he was using the bow during a song. It’s an amazing sight. You must give it a look.

Another solid aspect to seeing DoP in a Grade A venue is the volume. They were turned way the fuck up and it wasn’t that ear bleeding wall of sound shit that makes you want to leave Sin-e. It made their music powerful. The volume forced the audience to not only hear the songs, but also feel them. I’m not talking about some drum and bass thumping in your chest. There was an emotional attachment to the songs. A seriousness that sometimes get lost when they play a more intimate venue. Last night I felt Dirty on Purpose, and let me tell you, they felt good (insert a perverse joke from Joe here).

While the Hidden Cameras hammered away at their circus pop that doesn’t turn me on, I sat upstairs with the kids from Dirty on Purpose. They are such a great make of people. Though I’ve yet to properly meet Erika, I can safely say they are the nicest band in the tri-state area. DJ clued me in on the fact that he regularly visits the blog which always makes me feel like a nerd, but thanks for reading. He told me this show was the first time he played his new homemade bass rig which sounded spot on. I had to ask Doug if he was holding back at all because he wasn’t pounding away at the kit, (except for the Spidereyes intro). He explained how the drums were really loud on stage, and I explained how it was merely an observation rather than a criticism. Joe seemed preoccupied, (being the only member to cash in on actually being in a band). George filled me in on the new lighting guy who had only been to a one practice before pulling off last night. DoP is fucking rad.

Next Stop: Bowery Ballroom.
Along with the Arcade Fire, the hype train made a stop at the club last night. The Bowery was jammed with kids trying to see the Canadian boy (and one girl) wonders. The crowd included heaps of bloggers, tons of friends, the entire Bowery crew, David Byrne and David Bowie. Yes, that’s right. While we anxiously waited for The Arcade Fire to take the stage, Gigs and I were combing the balcony in the hopes of getting a glimpse at Mr. Bowie. In the same instance Gigs and I found him and squealed like school girls as we basked in his radiant cool. It was delicious as was the tequila shot Beach passed me during the set.

Speaking of the set (I’ve never seen Lucy and Danny so excited for a show), The Arcade Fire were good, but not great. They played all of my favorites and I dutifully sung along, but there was something missing. It was too quiet. The show reminded me of the snoozefest that was The Concretes CMJ show. Their energy and the bouncing around of the Napoleon Dynamite looking member brought it all together. Did they ask for it to be a comfortable volume? It wasn’t at the volume you fall asleep to, but it was at the volume just loud enough for homework. By the near end of their set, I was drunk so before an ass was made, my wobbly legs guided me home.

GO SEE THE HOT SNAKES TONIGHT @ THE BOWERY!!!

posted by jayloose at 3:46 PM 5 comments   

posted by jayloose at 2:40 PM 0 comments   

Can I Get A Drum Roll Please?
After much anticipation, November Eleventh is finally here. This date marks the beginning of three nights of rock shows in a row. First in my date book is tonight’s show at the Bowery Ballroom. Kicking things off is an all around bunch of nice kids who are better known as Dirty On Purpose. You’ll want to make sure you get to the club early because this five-piece is hitting at 9pm and if we’re lucky they’ll play Monument. Take a minute to stop by the merch table because word on the street is they have something special for those in attendance. We love hand made collectibles. Squeezed in between two of my current favorites is the Canadian queer pop of the Hidden Cameras. Their kooky rock style isn’t my particular brand of cigarette, but it is refreshing in a land ruled by post punk dance rock. Headliners, The Arcade Fire, sold this show out a few days after their much hyped CMJ show at the Mercury Lounge. If lady luck is on my side, I’ll be able to check this band out and deliver my extremely biased opinion to the two of you waiting in the wings.

What could top a huge night like Thursday? The answer lies in the Hot Snakes show on Friday night at the Bowery. This will be my first time laying eyes on their gritty punk sounds, and I couldn’t be more excited. My formal disclaimer to all those who plan to attend on Friday; I apologize for spilling beer, dancing obnoxiously and otherwise altering your opinion of the show. My advice to you: let loose, get drunk and prepare for some ruckus. If you’re a fan of Rocket From the Crypt or Drive Like Jehu, come see why they are raising such a stink.

The cherry on top of this sundae comes in the form of a Saturday night FREE show at the Luna Lounge featuring my good friends in Arbor Day. As they continue to tighten their sound, one thing can be certain; these boys are obsessed with Brian Wilson. Their sun drenched pop style is often interlaced with the occasional heavy riff or dark melody almost to prove they are really from the East Coast. If you like FREE rock, Dan’s beard or the Beach Boys then you’ll dig this show. Get there early for the local kids who call themselves Pela. I’ve heard good things, but will hold my opinion until after the show.

Don’t forget to return home after the Arbor Day gig because Modest Mouse is playing Saturday Night Live. Their schedule has them playing the standard two songs so expect to hear both singles from the new record.

I’d Give Up Sex For Kreative Kontrol.
The past couple nights have been down right cold, but most of us know it’s just the tip of the iceberg. This winter will probably be harsh and my delicate skin isn’t ready for it. Actually, I could care less. Winter is my season. Having all this human insulation comes in handy when trying to uphold the mission of fashion before comfort, (if you consider fashion jeans and a t-shirt).

With the cold on my mind, I bundled up for Tuesday night’s Sold Out show at Webster Hall. Who knew this band was so huge? The room was more packed than I had ever seen it which is good for everyone involved. We managed to get close to all of the Muse fans into the ballroom. Everyone was in high spirits, except for my frozen toes. After finishing my tour of duty, I went upstairs to catch a few songs only to confirm my disliking of the band. It was the second time I’d seen Muse live and like the first, I couldn’t handle more than a few songs. Someone tell me why there is so much love?

Yesterday was super mellow. Instead of braving the elements, I stayed at home and did some much needed catching up on my personal work. It’s always nice to be productive without being pushed. This kitchen work session also gave me the chance to listen to the Louis XIV single Sarah kindly brought to me on Tuesday evening. Sarah is definitely a purveyor of Jay Rock. On most occasions our tastes seem to align (sans Killers), and she introduces me to something that would have taken me a few weeks to find. Call it cutting edge or whatever, but I just call it helpful. So buy the first single on her label endeavor called Stolen Transmission. It’s quite good. It has the post-punk dance feel to it, but I also hear a lot of The Hives angular rock riffage, some Eagles of Death Metal harmonies and the dark rhythms of Joy Division. I also listened to Wilco’s latest; A Ghost is Born. This record has a couple songs that have timeless rock riffs and some pretty big sleepers. Though some of this album forced me to turn on the snooze, Spiders had me standing at attention with my air guitar in hand.

Speaking Of Loose Record.
With our launch date growing ever closer, I’m hoping more of you will come out of the woodwork with a desire to put your penmanship to the test. We are looking to put together a solid team of writers, so if you or someone you know has the skills to pay the bills or just loves independent music, please direct them to Loose Record and ask the to drop us an email.

Don't forget to watch O.C. Episode #2 tonight before heading out! Noah tells me that last night Conan told Seth Cohen how much he loves the show.

posted by jayloose at 11:18 AM 0 comments   

Need A Time Waster?
Leave it to good old Tumbleweed (who was rocking to Muse last night) to send me yet another terrific tool of procrastination. Check out the gallery section of Sorry Everybody and realize most of us are not alone. It's the lighter side of losing one of the most important elections ever.

Here is a sample of what you'll see...

posted by jayloose at 9:16 AM 4 comments   

Delicious Monkeys.
Since so many of you love a good monkey, check out this link for a gallery of monkey portraits that Tumbleweed sent me today. Monkeys are so choice.

You Got Old Man Feet.
Last night Jimmy Eat World played a sold out show at Webster Hall. Recover, Gratitude and Razorlight played in support. Outside of Razorlight, the whole show sounded emolicious from the front door. Del was stationed inside with me and apart from a couple busy moments the night went without a hitch except for one big thing; my toes were freaking freezing. Converse needs to step it up and develop Chuck Taylors with built in heaters or something. Otherwise it’s going to be a long winter. When Momma Belin reads this, it will give her more fuel for her annual argument against my persistent donning of my black low cuts.

After my shift was done, I cruised upstairs to have a listen to what Jimmy Eat World had to offer. Let’s just say I’m not a fan of what they are doing. It sounds a bit generic and though I’m not versed in the lineage of the band, it’s been done before. The kids do seem to like it though. All eyes were fixated on the boys bringing the rock. If you can sell out a venue like Webster Hall someone thinks you are doing something right.

One big jackass thing to note: I asked Mick Rock for his ID. Mick Fucking Rock. He couldn’t have been cooler about it.

And The Beat Goes On.
This Tuesday sure has a lot to offer. If you aren’t afraid of the cold, New York City is a beautiful place. Just think of what people in Kansas have on their plate for a Tuesday evening? It definitely doesn’t contain options like this:

*** Muse and The Zutons at Webster Hall. If you aren’t one of the lucky kids to purchase a ticket to this sold out show, don’t lose hope. There is always the faintest chance that a few tickets may be sold once the show is well underway, but it may not be worth your time because at this moment the show is sold to capacity.

*** Hot of the heals of their gig as curators for the Los Angeles leg of All Tomorrow’s Parties, Modest Mouse is in town for a big night at Radio City. There are still some tickets available for this gig. If you have not seen a show in this venue, head over tonight for a great concert experience. If you miss the show, tune into Saturday Night Live this weekend where they are the musical guests. Word on the street is that Issac is learning the lyrics to the singles so he doesn’t have to lip sync. The guest host is Liam Neeson.

*** In local news, Coolfer’s favorite purveyors of pop, Elkland, is playing at the Delancey with Chicago’s Chin Up Chin Up. Winter Pageant is planning to play at Rothko, but I don’t believe the club has reopened. Pitty Sing is at Pianos, but I don’t really care for this band. Johnny Lives is playing Mercury and he’s a nice guy so go check out his rock band.

*** If you don't have Friday plans yet, now you do. This Friday Hot Snakes will be destroying the stage at the Bowery Ballroom. You can check out the full preview I contributed to this weeks issue of Flavorpill. Get your tickets before this show sells out.

posted by jayloose at 2:15 PM 6 comments   

Reflect. Revisit. Incarcerate.
Thursday was a day of mixed emotions. Thankfully, I have some roommates who double as solid friends. Kyle met me back at 186 to talk over some stiff glasses of Crown Royal. He knew that Crown was the only drink I ever got to share with my dad. My pops snuck me the occasional sip of his beer here and there, but at my grandfather’s funeral, nearly a year before my father died, my dad and I gad a cheers to Carl Sr. with glasses of Crown Royal. Knowing this story, Kyle hooked us up with the gift set. It came with two sick whiskey glasses and a bottle of the good stuff.

As it approached 8pm, Dana and Miriam came over to watch the season premier of The O.C. Many friends expressed disappointment with the first episode of season two, but we all knew they would have to use it as set up. The fact that everyone was back in the county by the end of the hour didn’t sit well with me, but I was psyched to see these kids primed for their old shenanigans. The best performance of the evening came from Luke who now lives in Portland with his dad. They housed Seth until Ryan showed up to lure him back to the promise land. Some week one observations: Seth’s witty banter picked up right where it left off, Marissa must be on the pill or she got a boob job, Summer has lost all the meat that made her sexy, Jimmy looks hot with a beard, Teresa is a bitch, someone waxed Sandy’s eyebrows and someone forgot to feed Kirsten. Yes, the show wasn’t up to the old standard, but haven’t you kids heard of foreplay?

After the show and some crock pot goodness, Kyle and I decided to cruise out to Brooklyn to wish Ryan a happy birthday. Upon our arrival at the F Station on Essex, Kyle realized he forgot his wallet. In an effort to avoid tracking back to the house, I offered to spot him for the evening. As we entered the train station, we doubled up through the subway only to be greeted by a bunch of undercover cops who were dutifully guarding the two dollar turnstile. Did you know it’s illegal to have an out of state license if you’ve lived in NYC for over 3 months? Yeah, I didn’t either. Did you also know that you can be placed in a holding cell with a piss drenched hobo for nearly 7 hours for doubling up through a turnstile? Yeah, I didn’t either. After the egregious stay and some ribbing from the cops because they believe I look like Austin Powers, I gathered my shit for release and returned home. It was a textbook shitty evening.

Things I learned in jail: Using the fold method for free subway rides is now a felony, transit cops are fucking jokes, everything a cop tells you is a lie, Miranda Rights are no longer used in the arresting process, Mr. Clark is a crack addict who needs to bathe, kids who talk about moving pounds while under lock and key are idiots, uniformed officers actually have a decent sense of humor and immediately take a shower when returning home.

It’s Like Screaming At The Wall.
Talk about completely redeeming myself. If Thursday was a total bust (pun definitely unintended), then Friday was a complete success. My 3pm wake up lead me directly to the kitchen where a huge omelet was constructed. Freedom never tasted so good. Then it was time to head to Webster for the Skinny Puppy show. Not really knowing anything about the band, I was a bit surprised at the number of Goth kids who were on line at 6pm. You’ve heard me bitch about the punk kids and compliment the indie rockers, but for the record, goth kids are the nicest bunch of show goers I’ve had to deal with. Erin informed me that this is the case because they try to live under the guise of the Victorian period. There were a few younger Goths who acted more like punkers, but on the whole, they were a delightful bunch. Skinny Puppy took the stage fairly early, and from what I heard, bands like The Faint and Orgy owe some dept to this group of fucked up individuals. Their bass heavy, industrial laced rock was a sight to be seen. Their guitarist had a double neck guitar and both necks were without heads. Now that is metal.

After the show, I stopped in at Cami’s to have a couple drinks with her, Erin, Leah and Barbs. It’s always nice to spend a couple hours in a room full of hot girls. A Red Bull and Vodka later, and I met with Stevo who had just gotten finished at Webster. We grabbed some beers and stopped by his house to quickly slam some dinner. Around midnight we strolled over to 186 where a party was in progress. Thanks to everyone who came down to celebrate “No Balls” Paul and Marian “The Librarian’s” last night in town. House parties are sick, especially when the house is full of great monkeys. Though my night got incredibly blurry, it seemed to go without a hitch, (except for throwing beer on Builder and then offering him 10 bucks to call us even). The party had all the makings of a solid winter kick off.

Hung Over Hang Out.
Saturday greeted me with blurry eyes and delicious brunch. Builder, Baldass, Birthday Boy Rob and I decided the long wait at Clinton Street was well worth our time. The Lobster Bisque made everything worth it. After brunch we ran into Del and his friend who were going to eat and then hang. Nearly an hour later, Del and I decided to roll up to the WFMU Record Fair where Builder was volunteering. The fair was in a huge room full of music geeks and the avid collectors. As we started our venture through the rows of records, a cover band was blasting away at classic rock in a far away corner. There was so much gear in the room; we had no idea where to start. We milled about for a bit before getting elbow deep in stacks of records and cds. I managed to purchase a couple 7inches, including a 7 song Minor Threat live recording, and the new 3-disc DFA Compilation. I ran into Mike who had been digging since 12pm. Mike is a kid who truly knows what he’s talking about when it comes to obscure records and the like. After another couple hours, Del and I called it quits and walked downtown with a stop at Academics and The Megastore where we bid farewell.

My next stop was Casa de Beach so I could watch the second half of the Notre Dame versus Tennessee game. If you didn’t catch it, the Irish upset the 11th ranked team in the nation. This pretty much locks them in for a bowl game, which is pretty sweet. With their final home game next week against Pitt, they should be looking at a 7-3 record going into the showdown in SoCal. If they managed to upset the Trojan’s hopes for a national championship and finish with a record of 8-3, it would be like an early Christmas.

Speaking of Christmas, I was wondering why Santa Claus doesn’t visit Jewish kids? Can anyone answer that question? Is Claus a Christian in non-denominational clothing? Is it because the story of his origin is based on the idea of St. Nicolas? Please tell me. And Builder, don’t worry, this year, Santa is visiting you.

The rest of my evening was spent being entirely too lazy. We had a Loose Record meeting, Kyle and I made a song and I watched some of Gladiator. You don’t have to tell me, I already know.

Where Did All The Sunday’s Go?
Sunday was about as exciting as my Saturday night. It started with a bit of a stroll up Avenue B with Dana and Sylvia. They shopped while I made phone calls. It was such a beautiful day; I had to get out before football. By the time I got home, the Jets were already playing poorly. It was like the real Jets didn’t even bother to suit up. Del came over and listened to me yell at the television for a couple of hours. As the day turned to night, Christie popped in for dinner and Sunday evening tellie. We ate scrumptious Italian while watching a poor Simpsons premier (kudos for usage of the Perfect Strangers theme song and thanks to PB for the correction) followed by a top notch Arrested Development premier. Then it was on to My Big Fat Obnoxious Boss. Hi-fuckin-larious. Best show ever. Now I understand why Bush has a second term.

Get Out. Rock Out.
There are a couple solid events going down this evening so try to brave the cold to support the cause. Here is the rundown:

*** Knife Skills are hitting around 10pm at The Delancey. If you like tough as nails punk rock, get to this show and be amazed at Anna’s ability to instill fear in the burliest of men.

*** Razorlight is opening the Sold Out Jimmy Eat World show at Webster Hall. If you don’t make it into the club, you should stop in at the after party and pretend you where there. Just say you couldn’t believe how skinny they were. It will add authenticity to your blatant lies. The after party is being throw by Melody Nelson at Eleven. Click her link for all the details.

posted by jayloose at 1:18 PM 22 comments   

I Love The Smell Of Commerce.
I like you. Do you like me? I like Modest Mouse. Do you like Modest Mouse? Can you tell Kyle and I sat around watching Da Ali G Show last night? Next Tuesday Modest Mouse is playing a huge show at Radio City Music Hall. Unfortunately, Tumbleweed purchased tickets before he knew one of his favorite bands, Muse, would be playing the same night at Webster Hall. Now Tumbleweed is stuck with two Orchestra Section 6 tickets. If you have yet to purchase, he is selling the pair for $80 which is less than what he paid for them. Send him an email if you are interested.

Tonight the O.C. returns. I’m sure you all have plans to watch the show, but in your post viewing bliss, head out to Brooklyn to wish Ryan “Rana Champion” Thornton a Happy 25th Birthday. Here are the details on the celebration from the email:

It is tonight (Thursday, November 4th.) in Brooklyn. We will have a whole basement bar to ourselves to do whatever we want. Good music? Absolutely. Flip Cups? Sure. A lot of laughs? Guaranteed. My friends Stephanie Sanders and Emma Pildes will be the bartenders. The Bar has a big TV so if you want to watch the OC at 8pm so come early, I'll be there. Tell other friends, everybody is
welcome. Here are the deets:

Village 247 (where I work)
247 Smith Street, between Degraw and Douglass
This is in Carroll Gardens, Brooklyn

Coming from Manhattan: Take the F train to Bergen St (3 stops into Brooklyn) Walk against the traffic on Smith St. 'till you get to 247 Smith (on your left)(Map).

Coming from Brooklyn: You guys know what's up.

Walk through the restaurant; go down the stairs in the back. Thanks guys, my friends make me happy; it would be great to see as many as possible, respek.

Much Love To My Pops.
Michael John Belin
March 18, 1947 – November 4, 1997

You are sorely missed every step of the way.

posted by jayloose at 11:07 AM 4 comments   

We Have But One To Blame.
If your office is like mine, you just stood around a Tele with a group of mixed voters listening to John Kerry's concession speech. It was very upsetting, and we as a party must turn inward to understand our problems in reaching potential voters who should by all means be casting for the blue team. We have more time to think about it than the Yankees about Boston, but to keep on that note, here is a concession email from Beach. He knows where he stands.

Check it out...

Simply put, the city of Boston should be blamed for everything......

The Red Sox came back 3-0 to beat the Yanks and then go on to sweep the Cardinals. This was truly a devastating tragedy. The fine folks and cops of Boston danced around the streets, flipped some cars and killed a person or 2 in the celebrations. Then a few short days later, the other Boston team, the Patriots dealt my Jets their 1st loss of the season. Since all of this has gone down, the city of Boston has been glowing and on top of the world. Our choice to defeat George W, Mr. John Kerry also happens to be from Boston. And since they've won the Series I don't think he's taken that ugly Red Sox hat off his head. I was thinking; well as much as I hate that hat I still need to really pull for this guy to win. As I was looking at the pictures of all the jackasses in Boston gathering in Copley Square yesterday to wait for Kerry to speak if he won the election, I realized that I needed to actually side w/ these folks for a minute. The same folks that were still on a 2 week drinking binge from stealing the season away from the Yankees. And side with them I did as I got excited to see the election unfold. Fast forward 6 hours, the big crowd at Copley Square starts to filter away as its now 2am and the race is all but over for Kerry. And that is when I realized that Boston really does suck. They beat the Yankees, they beat the Jets and now we've lost the election.

So as we all sit around today, speculating as to how much worse our country is going to get with another 4 years of W and even greater Republican control of Congress, I tried to come up with a list of a few things that I still have to keep me happy this week.

Quite overshadowed by the election last night was the opening of the NBA basketball season. Yes folks we now have basketball to watch again. And in the opening night, the Denver Nuggets were playing the LA Lakers. Now I don't root for a team as passionately in basketball as in football or baseball, but I really like the Nuggets this year. They are a great young team that should be lots of fun to watch. They have a guy named Voshon Lenard, who I believe is one of the best shooters in the game; he's just hands down awesomeness. So I turn to the game to take my mind off the election, midway through the 3rd quarter. And what happens? Oh yes.....he is on ground in pain. What happened? Broken Achilles tendon. And yup, you guessed it, they'll lose him for the season. Now I am trying to figure out how to blame this on Boston, and I'm not 100% sure how I can do it yet, but I will get back to you shortly.

So here are a few things I know that even George W should not be able to screw up for me:

1) My 2 football teams have a combined record of 13-1.

2) There are several places in the area where I live and work, that anytime day or night I know I can go to and get a fantastic plate of nachos.

3) Saturday afternoon I can watch Notre Dame upset Tennessee, and Belin will be so happy he'll buying everyone a margarita, and then we will drunkenly throw Oveis into the East River.

4) Sunday I will watch football, most likely with some Nachos, and be happy.

5) It is still legal to drink tequila. (*If you are 21 of course*)

6) The Red Sox will not win another baseball game for a good 5 months.

7) While the Presidential election went a different course than I had hoped, I'm still happy to say that I voted. I'm still registered up in Bedford, NY and voted by absentee ballot. When my ballot arrived in the mail, I had a separate envelope from a candidate running for the state assembly. It was a 1 page later of a why you should vote for me kind of thing. The guy was a Democrat, and I couldn't even count all of the grammatical errors and misspellings in the 1 page letter. I could never imagine how he could let such a poorly written letter be sent out. And this is me picking up on it and most of you know I am far from Dr. Grammatical Perfection. So I said, buddy you've lost a vote, and it was the 1 Republican candidate I voted for. I just saw that that race is still "too close to call" and separated by a couple dozen votes and they won't have the results finalized until "they count all the absentee ballots." So, maybe I did make a difference.

Thanks for reading and please everyone feel better....things could be worse, as they will be getting soon. I'm just kidding....we will be on the upswing now. And please remember this; anything that goes wrong in your life or the lives of your friends and family is definitely Boston's fault.

posted by jayloose at 2:19 PM 6 comments   

Gore Abandons Demos For A Real Party.
In a unique turn of events Al Gore has abandoned the Democratic Party. Gore was spotted at the Bush twins' celebration party in a downtown Washington D.C. club last night. As a familiar N.W.A. song flooded the house, Gore was seen stumbling to the bar and screaming his own version of track; "Straight out of Texas, with a brother named George Bush." When reached for comment, former Vice-President Gore said, "Tipper is such a stuck up cunt. I don't know what she has against the blacks making music. Do you hear the power in this cut? For some stupid reason the lower class is really angry. I sleep better at night knowing they'll never make a difference." After some prodding, the last democratic nominee for president said, “Look at the last election in comparisons to 2004. Middle America is still voting for Bush. They love that old S.O.B., and no one knows why. Republican’s have it made. If the pussy “demofags” had any balls they would grow balls bigger than Cheney and Rove combined.” Then Gore snagged three vodka tonics and shuffled back to the middle of the dance floor where he was greeted with kisses by Jenna Bush.

Gore and Jenna Bush were cozying up for most of the evening. On another trip to the bar, we had a chance to ask Big Al his opinion in regards to the first daughters. Gore replied, “Barbara definitely has serious D.S.L. (which he later explained meant dick sucking lips), but if you asked me, I am definitely a Jenna kind of guy. Did you see the rack of lamb on that girl? Those are some milk fed jugs.” As the evening progressed Gore was seen leading the crowd through his own version of the Electric Slide before taking Jenna to a private V.I.P. room. Nearly an hour later Jenna came running from the room with disheveled hair and her top left open. Many witnesses confirmed she was crying. When Gore emerged five minutes later we attempted to reach him for comment. While straightening his belt, Gore quipped “If Jenna wasn’t so damn Christian I could confirm her carpet matching the drapes. See that’s the only problem I’m having with my future father-in-law. If his moral projections prevent the girls from letting me take both of them for a test drive, how am I to make a decision between the two." In a quick fit of fustration, Gore sneered, "Fuck this, where the hell did Barbara go?” With Gore disappearing back into the fray, we can’t help but think he is taking the hopes of a future Democratic President with him.

posted by jayloose at 11:41 AM 0 comments   

posted by jayloose at 10:13 AM 6 comments   

Don’t Blow Into This.
I’m trying to keep my mind off the looming election results. For this reason I’m posting a little recommendation for a band you might dig.

A few weeks ago Builder was raving about some tissue boy fantastic band. I didn’t take any note because the name was ridiculous and I was wrapped up in Interpol’s sophomore record. During my last update from the future, I came across the Kleenex Girl Wonder album, Ponyoak and threw it into the massive Ipod update. This weekend was the records first chance to grace my eardrums, and they couldn’t be more impressed. In recent rants to friends, I have included the phrases “pop gem” and “indie genius,” but there is definitely more too it. Midwesterner, Graham Smith, is the one man force behind this band. He pens, plays and records all of Kleenex Girl Wonder’s music. The best way for me to describe Smith’s work is that he channels the song craft of The Beatles and puts it through a lo-fi filter ala Guided by Voices. This seems all too appropriate since he toured in GBV before getting the boot due to some on-stage improve antics. If you listen carefully, you can hear some the post industrial sounds made popular by The Faint, but most of them are buried beneath the pop façade. Another one of my favorites who seem to play a hand in Smith’s influence is the Bob Mould (x-Husker Du) led Sugar. Their radio friendly 90’s pop is laced with tints of angst driven grunge without falling into the typical Seattle stereotype. So my assessment is any self-respecting GBV fan or lover of all things pop should give this record a shot; you just might like it.

posted by jayloose at 1:49 PM 1 comments   

The People Are Prone To Change.
The day is finally upon us. We fought for our respective candidates during the primary. We sat back and bit our tongue while Karl, Dick and George attacked Kerry's "soft" record. Now its time for us to speak up and get Bush out of office. Pitchfork has surprised me by doing something very cool. They have suspended today's music news and reviews in order to place all of their readers attention on the task at hand. This image is what you'll see if you try to access their website.

On a positive note, my older sister is actually registered to vote! My mother checked for her name when she went to the booth this morning. Another blue vote in Pennsylvania. My experience with the booth was a bit disappointing. They didn't have my signature so I had to fill out a vote. Will it even get counted? Some say it wouldn't matter because I'm voting in New York, but it's always nice to win the popularity contest on top of being crowned prom queen.

posted by jayloose at 9:43 AM 2 comments   

Fright Night Is Damn Right.
Dear Middle America and the rest of the suckers out there. Do not allow your vote to be swayed on the basis of the Bush/Cheney fear rhetoric. How could captain Halliburton think that “Bush understands the war”? No one understands the war including the jackass who decided to push us into this conflict despite pleas from the United Nations to hold off until they were done searching for WMD? Let’s just hold out hope that democracy still exists in the country and we won’t have to endure the pilfering of the White House at the hands of the Republicans.

Piece It Together. Edges First.
All the rocking out on Friday may have ruined my Saturday morning, but after finishing a previous blog post, I headed to Webster to retrieve my Ipod. Thankfully, Paul was getting things set for the evening’s show so he was able to let me in the office to grab my precious. On my way back to the house, I ran into Beach who planned to aimlessly search for a costume. Some luck wishing and a cab ride later lead me to Clinton Street Bakery where Builder and I planned to eat. The Bakery has turned into quite the rage as of late. Our waits are getting longer and longer, but it’s well worth it for their delicious BLT and split pea soup. It’s also fun to patronize a local establishment where everyone knows and recognizes you from your previous visit. After brunching, a quick stop at Blockbuster found me with Cool Hand Luke, Easy Rider and Mr. Smith Goes to Washington.

Later that evening Kyle and I had Louis, Dan and Dilly over for a bit of pregaming before the evening’s official start. We caught the end of a fantastic Michigan versus Michigan State game. Michigan came back from a huge fourth quarter deficit to win in the third overtime. After the game we made way for the Luna Lounge for the Walk Humongous Halloween Spectacular. Everyone was giddy with excitement as the band took the stage. Their costumes were grade A: Max as Lady Liberty, Colin as Abe Lincoln, Noah as a soldier and Stevo as a spot on post crucifixion Jesus Christ. They thwarted Dan and my plan for an onstage Culkin by playing Changing the World first. The spectacle started out with the focus on the music, but it quickly turned into a shitshow. By their third song, Tommy Was A Dancer things were starting to get out of hand.

Sidenote: my coworker just IM’d me this: “Made out with a man dressed as a hooter girl.”

This song gave me the proper chance to nail Max with the dozen roses I brought for the band. Right before the chorus count off, I nailed him square in the chest and the flowers exploded everywhere. It was choice. During the same song, Max jumped down closer to the crowd and was pelted square in the nose with an egg thrown by Kyle. At this point everyone knew it was on. Beer was spit, everything and anything was thrown at them (including corn beef hash that had been in my kitchen for over a year) and the packed room smiled and danced in full blown approval. They played a hilarious cover of Move It, Move It or whatever the hell that song is called. The latter half of their set included some kick ass tracks such as Pantalones! and I Don’t Like That. If Halloween ever needed an official band, it would beg Walk Humongous to sign a contract. They are what you think of when you hear the word fun.

Following the set and a quick margarita (half of which I threw on Bothe who was dressed as Luther from The Warriors) a couple of sweet bees made me privy to the free vodka drinks at The Hanger. After some dinking about, Cami and I walked over to the bar with a Sparks in tow. Natalka was tending her own bar in a bitching Wonder Woman costume. Everyone from the show eventually made it to the bar and we collectively got wrecked. The best part was the total control we had over the bitching jukebox. Seriously, they have collected some of my favorite records and made them available to all the local drunks. Nicely done. My night got blurry when Cami and I got nestled in the front corner of the bar and I took down shot after shot of tequila. Tonight was especially sweet because even though Cami and I are always out at the same bars, we never hang out when we’re in big groups. We finally did, and it was wonderful. Jigga, Builder and I ended the night with pizza and knifers as I pulled a serious Belin on a good friend. My B.

Got More Moves Than Iverson.
For some damn reason, I woke up on Sunday at 8:30am again and I couldn’t fall back asleep. This prompted bedroom viewings of Cool Hand Luke and Easy Rider both of which are superb films. There is a making of Easy Rider on the DVD and I highly advise any fan of the film checking it out. Who knew Peter Fonda was so fucking cool? Around 1pm I met Dana in front of Clinton Street which was once again packed so we opted for the General Store. We were waiting for Sylvia outside of the restaurant for a bit before we decided to take a seat in the joint. There were numerous open tables so we took one for three. A minute later some jackass said we could not sit until our entire party was present. What the fuck guy? Your restaurant isn’t nearly full and you are kicking out customers. This got me fumed so once Sylvia got there we slid into B3 for brunch. Matt and Alex, some of Sylvia’s friends, were already in there so they joined us for a meal characterized by garbage service and incorrect orders. Outside of the conversation, Sunday brunch was a disaster.

Dana and I popped into Croxley Ale House to say hello to Paul and his lady who were finishing up their lunch. They took off, but Dana and I stuck around so she could watch the second half of the Packers game. Thankfully, Brett and the boys hung on to their lead. This meant two very important things: 1. Dana would be in a good mood for the duration of the day. 2. Kerry is going to win tomorrow’s election. We parted ways and I returned home to search for Crock Pot recipes on the web.

Later that evening, I joined Beach, Daylen and Noah at J.P. Wards to slug a few PBR’s and watch the end of the Steelers dismantling of the previously undefeated Patriots. It’s nice to see the Pats aren’t invincible. We stopped in at 186 for a quick minute before gearing up for the big Mercury Lounge show. Some final tweaking to my costume and I was ready for the rock show. If you weren’t there, I wore the same costume as last year: velour Puma track suit, tons of bling, Boys In The Hood t-shirt, glasses, bandanna, cocked personalized graffiti hat and the ghetto blaster. To say the least, I looked damn good.

We rolled into the club as the Sam Champion Big Band was taking the stage. They played a Marc Bolan interview prior to taking the stage. The boys looked fantastic. Big ups to Miller’s mullet, Noah and Matt’s boas, Sean Bones’ fringe and Ryan’s vest with a tie (he definitely looked the best). They played T Rex’s classic record Electric Warrior from start to finish, and besides Noah vocal level for the first 20 seconds, the set was so on point. They flashed serious talent with last nights set and Noah’s voice channeled Bolan so much so that a mere blink of the eyes made me think it was 1971. My favorite part of the whole set was Brian flush on stage right hammering away at his bongo drum. This added a deliciously authentic feel to the entire set. Matt’s backing harmonies also added another beautifully necessary layer to the songs. They looked like they were having a grand old time and its now my contention that they should consider quitting all their respective bands to hit the road touring as the premier T Rex cover band. A one man standing ovation is deserved for pulling it off this experiment with such accuracy.

During change over, I went outside and propped the ghetto blaster on the telephone box outside of the club and danced as strangers passed by. Later that evening Mikey was shooting this scene and we even got some shots of me dancing in Pun Jab and the middle of traffic on Houston Street. Kudos to other great costumes like the Phish girls, Del as Napoleon Dyanmite, Emma’s Flava Flav, Pooja’s devil in a blue dress (hhhhhot), Mia’s Polyphonic Spree tambourine player, Katie’s Medussa and Dave’s Slim Jim.

These Bones played what may be rumored as their last show. Their incredible set was overshadowed by word floating around the club that they are breaking up. Is this true? Hopefully Sean Bones drops me an email explaining the situation. They dressed as the Beatles on the Abby Road record. They were a cover band, get it? Anyway, their set started with their normal closer, Rock and Roll Part Two before rocking their Britney cover, Toxic. They sounded so big last night and since my head was still with me I was able to do a bit of listening. As Stevo and I discussed, These Bones write amazing songs. They really have a good craft. Each part is unique and yet they can’t stand alone. It is the whole of These Bones that makes them great. It would be a shame to see that come to an end. The set included rock-solid numbers like Time Capsules, Liquids and Solids and they closed with my personal favorite, Line For a Line. Say it ain’t so These Bones.

After taking a tequila shot out a pumpkin shot glasses Daylen carved at Beach’s request, Demander brought more rock to the Mercury. These kids always put on a good show of hard melodic punk rock. Big ups to Carlos for dressing up like a crazy dude who stepped out of 1986 with a hint of irony and a whole lot of shiny. For the first time I could really hear Matt's parts. He is a unique addition to a band who is know for bringing some serious heart stopping rock to the stage. As they wailed away at tracks like Wicked World, I fell extremely tired and at the close of their set, I hustled home.

It was great to see everyone come out last night. Halloweens are definitely meant to be that much fun. For the record there were two botched Culkins. Builder and I failed to take Beach down and I pulled a ninja move on the Beach’s as they attempted to bring J-Money to the floor. Addition thumbs up to late night glam Beach (outfit sold separately).

posted by jayloose at 10:51 AM 5 comments   

posted by jayloose at 8:27 AM 2 comments