Snow Excuse For Staying Home.
Last night I stayed in to power through some work that piled up over the past few shitshows. There was an obvious break in the action when 8pm rolled around. Yesterday’s episode of The O.C. made me laugh out loud at its absurd nature. All of a sudden the writers are trying to transport us back to the middle of last season. The new characters are pulling an Oliver, (the gun waving pill popper from last season). Lindsay is moving to Chicago with her mom even though Caleb is her real father. There was some definite confusion in the doctor’s office when they gathered for the DNA test results. Once they announced the positive match, there was a lag time in which I thought they might say her mom isn’t her mom. Either way, she is gone. I’ll miss you Lindsay, but not as much as Anna. Then there’s the kindhearted jock named Zach who can’t seem to match the lure of quirky Cohen. Summer bailed on the trip to Italy on which Zach planned to let her use his V-card at the VTM. Zach will still be in Newport, but from the looks of ‘scenes from’ he will be written out or play the post dater role like Luke. Alex survived this episode, but it isn’t looking good for her character. Ryan and Marissa shared a moment, and the next new episode has him eavesdropping on some girl chat where Marissa reveals her feelings for him. The best part about last nights episode was the Louis XIV riff played over the scene where the girls were making out behind Julie Cooper in the kitchen.

Speaking of Ms. Cooper, she used to dine at the pink taco stand much like Marissa. Julie probably made for a delicious lesbian, but a girl like her doesn’t strike me as the type. She probably just got drunk at her sorority with a few girls and had a bit of an orgy. Her experimenting couldn’t have involved calling another beauty her girlfriend. While were talking about adults, what the fuck is the deal with the fugitive. Rebecca has caused enough problems, and I wish she’d let the Cohen’s go back to their normalcy. Fortunately my wish came true when she fled the scene of a car accident where Sandy was piloting the motor-coach. This left some more questions such as: where the hell are you going, do you have any money and aren’t you concerned no one will pick you up after the rain strips your makeup to reveal your hidden manhood?

One last thing: The Spiderman rip-off was fucking ridonkulous. It made me puke. But don’t worry; the show is redeeming itself with the indie rock. The new Soundtrack (MIX 4) comes out April 5th and it features The Futureheads, Modest Mouse and Beck. You can get the details here.

Current Obsession: The Upwelling, Murdered By a Big Bomb (Self-Titled EP)

No Sleep Till Crooklyn.
So it snowed. Cry me a river. Mother Nature should not hamper your weekend plans. If your calendar has yet to be filled, check out some of these options. It should be a solid weekend overflowing with drunken memories.

*** Tonight the nice chaps of Arbor Day are playing an early set at The Delancey (168 Delancey). Stick around for The Victoria Lucas which must be Andy’s 69th band or something. Arbor Day is booked at 9pm and the show is a mere $7.

*** Unfortunately I’m missing the Arbor Day show to go see I Love You But I’ve Chosen Darkness open for Longwave at the Northsix (66 N6, Bklyn). Yeah, it’s a big leap. Brooklyn two weekends in a row, but this is a great show for only $10. Tickets seem to be still available, but give the box office a call just so you don’t get shut down at the front door. You can check out an MP3 of Chosen Darkness in their Catalog page.

*** Attention Dancing Machines: If you are at the show, why not join us in continuing the party at Justin Carter’s party. The always smiling, bent on revenge friend of mine throws massive gatherings that break down into raunchy dance parties that rage till the sun shines.


Check out the email he sent out earlier this week.

New Release Presents... Yet another all-night dance-off
@ Asterisk (258 Johnson Ave in Brooklyn)
Friday, February 25th (9p until you fall asleep on the floor)
$5 door/$3 beer

Di(e)rections:

By Subway: L to Montrose. Walk one block down Bushwick to Johnson. Take a left. Look for the red asterisk on the right.

By Automobile: Williamsburg Bridge to Queens bound BQE. Exit on Humboldt. Go south, and make a left on Grand. Make a right on Bushwick, then a left on Johnson. Look for the red asterisk on your right.

Saturday Looks Ridiculous To Me.
Saturday is going to kick me in the balls. Hopefully I can sneak some sleep in tonight before getting up and going buck wild for the second evening in a row. The itinerary looks something like this:

*** 1:30pm: Meet the crew at Path Station for trip to (Dirty) Jersey City.
*** 2:00pm: Stuff my face at the new Chili's out by the mall.
*** 5:00pm: Return to 186 for wardrobe change and Chilis release program.
*** 6:00pm: Ian Brown call at Webster Hall.
*** 9:00pm: Culkin Unsuspecting Brits.
*** 10:30pm: Direct the bridge and tunnel crowd.
*** 11:30pm: Tequila, Boobytrap and Peelander-Z at Mercury Lounge.
*** 1:30am: Funnel beers like its my job in honor of Jeff Pfiel.
*** 4:00am: Chicken Fingers at 2A followed by vomit session.
*** 5:30am: Hope someone takes me home.

Jeff promises 2 1-person funnels and 1 2-person funnel. Oveis, if you want to come warm me up for Warrior Mania II, then show your face. If you guys want to see what I learned during my formidable years in the gay porn industry, then show up and stick around. Here are the details:

I'm throwing myself a party at my place on Saturday Feb 26. I'll be hanging out and drinking there all day so feel free to stop by anytime, but the official party time is 8pm. There WILL be a funnel, but feel free to bring any other drinking apparatus that might make the drinking faster and more entertaining (i.e. hats, crazy straws, etc). Most importantly, bring beer. Also, bring some other people too.

I love you all. Happy birthday to me.
-Jeff P.

The address is 540 Henry St.

Take the F or G to the Carroll Street stop. Get out at the President St exit. Walk with traffic on President til you hit Henry. Make a Left on Henry. It's on your right. Buzz #2.

If you are coming late, the President St exit may be closed. Exit at 2nd Pl. Walk with traffic along 2nd Pl until you hit Henry. Make a right on Henry for a couple blocks. It's on your Left between Carroll and President.

posted by jayloose at 1:01 PM 26 comments   

posted by jayloose at 4:50 PM 3 comments   

It’s Thursday Night. Just Do It.
#1.) DJ Del @ Mickey’s Blue Room (171 Ave C / 10pm / FREE)
#2.) Atomique feat. Tarts of Pleasure @ Eleven (152 Orchard St / 10pm / FREE)
#3.) Hockey Night @ Rothko (116 Suffolk St / 11pm / $8)
#4.) Unsacred Hearts w/Man in Grey & Go Station @ Luna (171 Ludlow / 8:30pm / FREE)

Words From The Street.
*** The Swedish invasion continues: Mando Diao has announced two shows at the Mercury Lounge on April 25th and 26th (the latter is with the Raveonettes). They will return on May 25th for an additional night at the Mercury.

*** The Cornerstone assault on my inbox has come with mixed reviews, but you should check out some of the music they are pushing. First of all, the Louis XIV track Finding Out True Love is Blind is one of my favorite songs as of late, but this version is a bit different from the one on Ultragrrrl’s Stolen Transmission release. A little more polished which isn’t always my favorite thing, but it scratches the itch. They also passed the link to the Aqualung single. This sounds a bit like Phoenix if they weren’t French and didn’t have such a hard on for Jameroqui. They are playing the Bowery on March 21, and I’m sure there will be a bunch of hot girls there so get your tickets. Finally, there is Blue Merle who hails from the south. Don’t let their name full you. They don’t get the Led out, but they do have some nice acoustic sounds. Not for me, but you should decide for yourself.

*** I always knew the guys in Korn were complete douchebags, but seriously Brian, you’ve one-upped your overall doucheness with this move. Donkey punches anyone?

*** As we constant wonder what will happen once the White Stripes run out of juice, answers like this pop up on the radar. Big words from Benson, but these guys do have some goods.

*** Do you see what happens, Josh? Do you see what happens when you won’t stop huffing computer duster? All jokes aside, this kind of sucks.

*** You don’t have to tell me. I know she sucks, but seriously, when Torn was on MTV every ten minutes back in high school it was Boner City on South West Third Street.

*** The Sasquatch line-up is completely out of control. Wilco, The Pixies, Arcade Fire, Kanye West, Arcade Fire, Modest Mouse, Bloc Party, Joanna Newsom and AC Newman are just a few of the acts already posted on the bill. Fuck Coachella, (I’m sorry New Order, but I can’t afford you).

*** How much do you know about David Bowie? Well, apparently I only know 60 points worth of information. Does this make me some sort of loser.

*** American homeless people are complete bullshit. All you can muster up is 6 layers of t-shirts and shit stained jeans. Hobo’s listen up; the Koreans are kicking your ass in the race for best dressed vagabond. Are you just going to sit there begging for change while they get the spotlight? Fuck.

*** Noah sent me this and his IM read, “couldn’t have said it better.” You know he loves this kind of press.

*** This is almost as stupid as Tipper Gore’s crusade against hip hop. What the fuck? Pete is just living his life. Why attack the artist? Shouldn’t your finger be waving at the media? Punks. Pete still has the option to get high or by with a little help from his friends.

posted by jayloose at 3:18 PM 0 comments   

Cause There Is No Time.
Yesterday’s twilight hours were hilarious. After a long double shift day, Builder and I sat in the living room bitching about how our lives never have a second to calm down. It feels like we are wound so tight in this city, but this is no surprise. Sleep has lost all priority. Maybe tonight I can score some extra ZZZ’s. This was last night’s plan, but we decided hanging out while learning new tie knots was more important. We were like a couple of jackasses. We tried the Windsor. It looked like garbage. We tried the Half-Windsor. It looked like shit. As our impatience grew, I pulled the Pratt knot’s instructions up on the interweb, and the winner was found. While going through the motions, I realized this was my father’s knot of choice. It was taught to me at a young age, but it didn’t stick like the birds and bees discussion. When I ‘matured’ to a tie wearing age, advice came from outlets like Hawkins or Bruce. Last night was the first time finding my dad’s knot, and it felt kind of strange. The little things hidden deep in your memory are a treat to remember. Anyway, I tied one for Builder, and his reaction was, “Yes! Now I look like I know what I’m doing.” We then proceeded to practice, but couldn’t pull off something as tight as his ‘interview’ tie. As I mentioned last night, it was like being able to see for a minute before returning to blindness. We are still jackasses.

Back To The Lecture At Hand.
After work I hustled home and was greeted by Nutsack, (our new wireless network). It is a beautiful thing. Now all the internet porn can be kept in the bedrooms. By 7pm I was at Webster Hall for the Kings of Leon show. There was a solid work crew assembled last night, and everything went smoothly. Hopefully the people inside had as much fun as we did working the door. A quick set of thanks to Jordan who was kind enough to bring me a copy of Kings of Leon new record Aha Shake Heartbreak and to Cara who brought my shivering ass coffee. Once the band took the stage, Dan came into help with the front while Gigs went to rock out. During their last song, my duties were complete so I cruised upstairs to grab Cara. The two of us, along with Dan, headed the back way to get a closer look at the Followill boys for their encore while joining forces with Mia. The band was quickly coaxed out of the dressing room by a rousing chant of ‘Kings!’ by the crowd. They pleased the kids with Holy Roller Novocain. We bailed before hearing the second song.

On my walk home I ran into Audrey and Dennis who just came from the Mercury. Dennis was raving about The End of the World so I wished them well and hustled to check them out. Greg and James were holding it down as I passed the threshold and slid to the back where Beach, DTL and Haley were bouncing around. It managed to slip my mind that Ben played guitar in this band. Liz tried to get me out to their shows on numerous occasions, but my fear of a friend’s unknown band kept me from their gigs. This is a damn shame because I was thoroughly impressed with their sound. It is on the soft rock side of things, but only because the mix isn’t creating waves in your vodka tonic. Ben plays melodies that would put Mr. Albert Hammond to shame, but don’t think this is another Strokes knock off. The rhythm section sounds somewhat buried, but this is on purpose. The snare doesn’t have the sharp call of most, but the drummer gets away with creating danceable soundscapes with his cymbals while the bass player warms things up by cruising around the frets. The lead singer is a diamond in the rough. Looking more philosophy major than purveyor of rock, their front man has an unspoken cool. He is the type of kid who quietly mingles through a party while people line up to hear his latest breakthrough. The voice is a bit tough to peg, but its somewhere between Ted Leo and Hamilton Leithauser. Give them a shot. You’ll like what you hear.

Current Obsession: LCD Soundsystem, Great Release (from self-titled debut).

posted by jayloose at 12:29 PM 0 comments   

Better Late Than Never.
Monday morning I received an email from Whitney regarding a call to hard drugs. This didn’t make sense to me because it would conflict with the new romantic movement. I opened the email and it simply read, “We should do some hard drugs. Hunter S. Thompson shot himself.” I jumped to Yahoo News to confirm the suicide of the greatest American counter culture journalist ever. The news was a severe blow especially since I’ve lost someone very, very close to me in the same manner. What would drive you to turn a gun on yourself? What was troubling him? How does this ever happen? Well, Tumbleweed doesn’t have the answer, but he does have the story over at Ones and Zeroes. Confirmation has not been made, but his source is very reliable. Check it out and be amazed.


A Brilliant Man.

posted by jayloose at 3:11 PM 0 comments   

Reunions Worth Reuniting.
Some big news just rolled into my lap. Irving Plaza has scored some killer reunion shows. First up, The New York Dolls will play on April 28th. Then my life becomes complete, because Gang of Four will play May 17th and 18th. I don't know the ticket situation, but these will certainly sell out quick.


Everyone bend over as to not show our collective boner.

posted by jayloose at 12:48 PM 3 comments   

Spring Has Definitely Sprung.
Now, I know what you’re thinking; it just snowed on Sunday. This doesn’t matter. We are making spring happen with our attitude. Can’t you tell that spirits are higher these days? Everyone knows that summer (aka titty season for some) is on its way, and the party is just getting started. When is the off season? The past few days have been a welcomed blur of little sleep and massive GT’s. Let me give you the run down in a somewhat abbreviated version.

Friday = Another Day At The Office.
I Love Mexican
No Sobriety Option
Someone Should Stop Me
The weekend was filled with many crazy moments, but Friday felt like a warm-up. It began with Cara stopping by 186 for a quick minute before we met Beach and Christie for fine dining at Festival. It’s been ages since I’ve stepped foot in the familiar establishment, and it hasn’t changed a bit. The margaritas are still tart and the chicken quesadilla maintains its divinity. We finished up quickly and hustled over to Mercury to catch The Head Set.

Sidenote: Today’s post will contain very little description about each set I took in this weekend. The fact remains it was a weekend built around partying for dead presidents in the company of great friends. All and all, mission accomplished.

The Head Set rocked something wonderful. Jordan manages to always surprise me with his stage presence. When did that cocktease get such a sexy swagger? Jordan, tell me where you purchased it; my swagger is in desperate need of an upgrade. At any rate, the night is such a distant cloud, but I can confirm that we saw Robbers On High Street. This was my first time taking in their set, and it was impressive. Yes, the Spoon reference is there, but it didn’t seem as apparent as the press tends to make it. At some point Beach and I snuck off to down my second or third Sparks of the evening. We plowed through it while shuffling our feet to the new Soft demo which is really fantastic, (despite my ambivalent feelings toward the live wank). Once we made it into the back room, Bishop Allen was already on stage. It’s easy for me to say that I love Bishop Allen, (and not just because they have the sexy). Their performances are always chocked full of great energy and earnest indie rock smiles. As The Upwelling took the stage, something inside thought it would be a good opportunity to flash my PDA skills. Sorry to all who had to witness. Wait, strike that, no apologies. After a bit of their set, my mind was shot and removal was the only option.

Saturday = You May Never Understand.
Kids Still Trip Acid
Kiddy Pools, Shotguns And Puke
So Many Culkins
You probably won’t understand so maybe you should skip this day. The nature of the beast comes in many shapes and sizes. You’ll see the pictures. You’ll cover your eyes in horror. You’ll wonder at the disgust. Hopefully you’ll laugh at how stupid my friends and I tend to act. Maybe you’ll never want to talk to me again, but every once and awhile something like this has to happen to validate my existence. The look on Sarah’s face before taking her carbomb made me realize this sort of thing isn’t for everyone. If you are interested, come to Jeff’s party on Saturday for the 2am multimedia presentation. I’ll give a speech before blowing your collective minds and private parts.

Let’s start by saying Saturday started way to early. The stirring in our living room forced me out of bed. I found some lit up kids sitting in the soft yet sweaty glow of the red lights, (aka the coke lights). As they freaked out to the ongoing invasion by Sgt. Pepper and his lonely soldiers, I decided bed was the only viable option. Around noon, Jeff and Liz gave me a call because they were brunch hunting in the neighborhood. They stopped into 186 to pick up Dan, Cara and I for the dining. We decided on AKA Café which hasn’t impressed many, but the hanger steak slider is more addictive than crack, (my apologies to mom for all the drug references today; please don’t take them to heart). Throughout the meal we tossed around the freshest idea for a Builder burn. When Builder goes away on business, we tend to fuck with his room. Thankfully he is a great sport, and knows it comes out of love. In the past he’s been subject to the gay porn crusade and the toilet paper maze.

Saturday’s burn involved an exhibition of sorts. It began with Liz and Jeff blowing up a kiddy pool that was given to Beach from Perry on his 24th birthday. Like most of Beach’s gifts, the pool was still at 186. With Kyle passed out firmly on the couch, we began the grand endeavor known only as Shotgun Challenge 2005. The challenge began with three contestants, but the field was quickly narrowed to two. It involved a gross display of 1999 like attitude and a fondness for all things disgusting. In the matter of an hour or two, Jeff and I managed to shotgun over a 12 pack a piece. The kicker was…. actually I’m not going to say anything else. Just be at Jeff’s party and bring your own barf bag. Let’s just say there was a lot of noise, and I’m lucky Cara still talks to me.

By 4:30pm the experiment was over. Jeff and I knifed the pool and took it to the street for disposal. Candles were lit. Feet were cleaned. Life pressed forward. We decided it was important to salvage the afternoon with some bar food from Nice Guys. Since they don’t deliver until 6pm, Beach did some serious egging to convince me to swing through the bar with him for a carbomb. The conversation went something like this:

Beach: Carbomb
GoodTimes: It’s 4:30pm and I’m already hammered.
Beach: Carbomb
GoodTimes: I can’t do it.
Beach: Carbomb
GoodTimes: Let’s Roll.

Twiggs and Stevo showed up as we pounded through some delicious fried food. By the time I swallowed my last bite, I was in the bedroom and down for the count. All I can say is: Warrior Mania II is definitely in the cards. As I woke from my slumber, the night whipped into action. The first task was to meet at the Bowery for a quick set by birthday boy and prize fighter Johnny Lives. Poor Dan had to suffer through a second set at the merch table for the kids in Brothers Past. We had a quick chat before I ran into Sky and George who seems to be making some headway with his band overseas. After a quick trip back to 186, I popped into Julep to grab Stevo and Jordan for the trip out to Brooklyn. Mike declined the offer to join the shittrain which ended up being his severe loss. The three of us caught up with an already rowdy Beach on the corner of Allen and Delancey. To make matters worse, they grabbed Sparks for the cab ride across the bridge. The foundation was laid for a great performance.

We met up with Mike, Rebecca and Diane (I think) in the corner deli by Bo and Liz’s apartment. We proceeded to buy a handful of 24oz PBRs which must have been sent directly from heaven. As we rolled into the party, we were greeted by the birthday boy. Things were a bit mellow, but we quickly changed the climate. There were tons of great kids there including Oveis (fucking jackass), Little Macchia, Virginia, Elliot, Gene!, Windskill, J.C., Christie, Mr. Smith, Meredith, Abe, a shit-toothed Action and other solid donkeys. The party became a bit rowdy after we sang a birthday tune. Some kid came up to me, wrapped his arms around me and began lifting me. This doesn’t sit right with a person who operates under a ‘No Touching’ guise. This prompted me to go into Culkin mode, (well, that and Beach’s incessant muttering in my ear regarding Culkining Gene). The same lifter guy came up to Rebecca and dropped to his knees, grabbed hers and started shaking them. I figured this was the last straw. He had to go down. I motioned to Jordan and knelt. Jordan got the unsuspecting gent with ease. The kid didn’t know what hit him.

Since kids were taking whatever they wanted from the fridge, Beach and I had to make a beer run. This came after he got on the microphone to heckle Oveis who spent his night on the couch being gayer than Richard Simmons in Miami, (not that there’s anything wrong with it). Then some MC came on to spit over Kotchy’s beats, and Mr. Surly Pants was bitching the whole way to the beer store. We bought the place out of 24oz cans while Beach tried to lure some unsuspecting kid with a Choking Victim patch on his hoodie back to the party. It was all kind of homoerotic. Maybe Surly Jones has a thing for punks. Anyway, we got back upstairs and registered more Culkins than the past few weeks combined. In fact, Action went down four times in a row at the hands of Beach and Stevo. It was quite massive. I also managed to kneel for a couple of Culkins performed on Kevin.

As 2am rolled around the fridge was desperately empty. Justin and I decided to take it upon ourselves to collect some beer money for the mission. With 19bones in hand, we hit the street, but all the delis were closed. It’s just another reason for me to hate on Brooklyn. We set out on a search for the Holy Grail, and eventually Carter’s eye caught a dimly lit bodega at the end of a block. We hustled down and bought a bunch of Colt 45 just because I wanted to be a dick. We got back to the party and were heroes. As it erupted into a MTV Beach House meets Soul Train style dance party, Beach and I targeted Carter for one last Culkin before heading back to Manhattan.

The night ended with an Odessa session that included Stevo, Action, Stevo, Belgium Waffles and Sausage. The place was packed and sitting next to us was some guy who had his ax in tow. A visibly drunken Stevo struck up a conversation with him and eventually got him to play, (despite his managers request for a guarantee). The dude broke out his guitar, plugged it into his battery powered amp and cruised through some Santana and Hendrix. He had the whole place rocking. It was a great time. Some faced guy got up to come watch him play and as he was taking a seat went straight to the ground. He later passed out, but ended up giving the dude an Andrew Jackson. We finished up, and I managed to close my eyes a bit after 7am.

Sunday = Bring On The Brits.
My Laundry Is Done
Free Red Bull And Vodka Rocks
I Love Transvestites
Sunday started out slow with some laundry, a spot of work and a bit of a hang with Ms. Christie. She was in the neighborhood so we decided to catch ourselves up on last week’s episode of the O.C. It was an interesting episode, but I won’t get into it because of the already long winded nature of this post. Mike and Xtina showed up for a brief, but necessary meeting. Around 8pm it was time to get into costume, (read: put on a tie) for the evening’s trek to the renowned debacle known simply as Motherfucker.

I arrived at the Roxy a bit early and while waiting for Cara, I ran into Omri (sp?) who knew about Loose through Christina. It’s always great when someone mentions the site. Hopefully we’ll have it to you soon. The wheels are in steady motion. After some mix up with the list, we managed to carve out a nice spot at the end of the bar where we proceeded to slam back the free Red Bull and Vodka. As the hour progressed, we were joined by Jersey Dan and Adam who came into town for the party. We stood there chatting it up with various passerby’s until it was time for the show.

The last time I saw Bloc Party, they played the Knitting Factory and I left the show wholly unimpressed. This mindset was wiped clean on Sunday as they blew me away. Maybe it was the 1500 drunk kids screaming out their lyrics. Maybe it was the top notch company. Maybe it was their songs being on fucking point. Either way, I’ve done a 180 and absolutely love this band. Though I’m not too familiar with the record, Banquet was a big winner and they finished the set with my favorite, Little Thoughts. The Tranny hostess came back out to help rally the crowd into frenzy for the encore. They popped out and played a great jam sending me away smiling. After a couple more drinks and some High School style running around, Cara and I decided to cut the chord.

Monday = Aren’t You Tired Of Reading.
Warm Maple Butter
Never Getting Out Of Bed
Say Hi To Your Mom
Ok, quick recap. Cara and I squeezed into Clinton Street for brunch before wasting the entire day doing nothing but listening to records. Jersey Dan stopped in and we grabbed a slice before heading to the Mercury to catch Cut the Wires who were actually quite good. I suspect you’ll see their name around more as kids begin to catch on. They have a quirky frontman who bounces around asking for a Culkin while the rest of the band guides him with music that we’d like to say was influenced by the Gang of Four, but really it sounds like ½ Rapture meets ½ Moving Units. Then Eric took the stage as a three piece and rocked out a great set. It’s always nice to see Say Hi To Your Mom; especially since Eric is such a nice guy on top of being a Grade A songsmith. My night ended with living room work session and the triumphant return of Builder.

Tuesday = Tequila Infused Swedish Fish.
Tequila Tuesday
The Shout Out Louds Are So Cute
We Drink Way To Much
Another quickie. The call was 6:30pm at Nice Guys. Builder and I met Jersey Dan and Beach. We were joined by the likes of Sarah, Gigs and Daylen for a couple of early evening carbombs and some more delicious bar food. Sean Bones and Andrew W. Gay, (sorry Ackerman, that just sounded funny to me in my current hung-over state) showed up just in time to say no to the first tequila shot presented by J.D. productions. We settled up and walked to the Bowery. Mr. Champion was running the show last night with the always present James. I ran around the club to say hello to everyone before heading downstairs to chat up Greg and Merida who kindly collaborated on hooking me up with a PBR. Then I sat with K at the coat check for a hot minute before bullshitting with Dan and Paul who were scooping the second door.

As I made my way to the back of the show room, the crew began to assemble. Besides all the Nice Guy people, we also had Rob, Sky, Cara, Matt G., Tumblehawk, Lucy, Mia, Jin, Half Nelson, Christen, Del and a few others floating around. The Shout Out Louds took the stage and played all my favorite songs. Since the room wasn’t packed yet, we cruised up to the front for a closer look. They rocked out something amazing. There is no question that this is currently my number one band. They are so sweet and so kick ass all at once. Their songs make me want to dance around like a hippie. It was great, and by the looks of the crew most felt the same. Once they finished up, I pulled a Mandel and grabbed the set list from the foot of the stage. We cruised downstairs for the hundredth Tequila shot of the evening before returning for a surprisingly fantastic set by The Futureheads, (go see them at Webster in June). As their set ended my need for sleep overcame all other desires and I passed out with my jeans on.

If you read this post in its entirety, your next cheeseburger is on me.

posted by jayloose at 12:10 PM 10 comments   

posted by jayloose at 9:21 AM 2 comments   

Look At Me, I’m Not You.
On my walk home from The Bowery last night, I was wondering where all the disdain for the French Kicks came from. Last night people would come up to the merch table to ask me if I really liked them and my typical response would be, “I don’t dislike them.” They are one of the bands that helped suck me into the New York music scene back when they played shows at Brownies with bands like The Walkmen, Interpol and Radio 4. Why shouldn’t I like them? They make inoffensive pop songs that have very catchy melodies. Sometimes it feels like if it isn’t dance-punk and high school kids love it, then New York City must turn their backs on it. Well, the jokes on us. They soldout Bowery last night, and they sounded great, (at least from downstairs).

My post work hangout was interrupted by the presence of roommate #1. The apartment had been empty for nearly a week, but yesterday I came home to Kyle snoring on the couch. We didn’t catch up. We didn’t hang out. He slept. I emailed. He snored. I ate. These days, 186 has been a lonely place, but I was just getting used to it. Around 7:30pm I set off to The Bowery to begin my shift. The French Kicks were nice enough to set most of their display up for me, and I settled in for a long night unfolding and folding t-shirts. Grizzley Bear had their merch set up right next to the Kicks, and a nice girl by the name of Gigi kept me company for most of the evening. There were some solid appearances by Christie, Julia, Megan, Lucy, Tumblehawk and Christine (once her shift was over). They chatted me up between sales.

Eventually the French Kicks took the stage and rocked out what sounded like a great set from the depths of the basement. Towards the end of their set, I heard the opening guitar riff to New Order’s Regrets and got Gigi to cover as I darted upstairs to check out the song. They did a spot on cover of one of my top New Order songs. As I hopped about, Sarah came up the steps to say hello and sing along. It was a great choice by the band. The after show rush was a bit hectic, but as it slowed down the Grizzly Bear kids and I dicked about as we closed up shop. They are really nice guys and I can’t wait to see them after they return from their tour. Dana was nice enough pop into the club after taking in the Kasabian set. She kept me company while I waited to settle up. Eventually Matt came over and we closed down the table. They were kind enough to toss me a vinyl copy of their Young Lawyers Ep which, in my humble pie opinion is their best recording.

On my way home I decided to stop into Atomique to see how the night was going. Upon walking into the smoke filled basement, I found Julia and Megan in a booth with some new found British boys. I stashed my gear and ran into Jin on my way to the bar. We grabbed a drink and met her friend Chris who said, “I have a brother named Jay” to which I answered, “I have a sister named Chris.” Only problem was Chris was a dude, but we had a laugh. Cara was surprisingly still at the party so we talked for a quick minute before I ducked back to the booth to see how Audrey and Dennis were holding up. Audrey told me the party was a mad house early in the evening which means her party is getting the head of steam it deserves. Back by the bar I caught up with Christen who told Cara and me about the orgasmic reaction she had to Kasabian. A drink or so later, Cara and I decided it was time to talk to our old friend Jose who I now realize was the tequila shot that sent me reeling on Tuesday. We finished up and bailed out on the rest of the evening. I returned home only to forget that The O.C. had been taped for me. Please don’t spill the beans.

The Locals We Love.
Tonight The Mercury Lounge has presented us with an inexpensive way to see a heap of local talent for only $10 of that newly cashed paycheck. The show kicks off early with a band I’ve never heard of, but bet your money on me being their by 8:30pm to see The Head Set. Last time I saw the band it was after a tough Jets loss, but they somehow managed to put me in good spirits. They are followed Robbers On High Street who are the new it band for fans of Spoon style twang. At 10:30 one of my favorite pop acts, Bishop Allen, will rock the club. Their debut full-length Charm School has been in heavy rotation for over a year now. Oh, and their bass player might be the cutest girl in indie rock. Bringing up the rear are the biscuit loving boys of The Upwelling who really impressed me the night of the blizzard. With tonight’s fairly more favorable weather, you should make a point to hole up at The Mercury and join us in supporting some top notch local artists.

posted by jayloose at 1:09 PM 0 comments   

Get Them While They're Hot!
On May 14th the Bowery Ballroom will face an invasion by British Sea Power. Tickets went on sale a few minutes ago, and if you were at last February's show, you already know this is a must see.

posted by jayloose at 1:01 PM 0 comments   

When Feelings Stopped And Writing Began.
My boy Big predicted this thing exactly; more money more problems. Well, Mr. Smalls, I can imagine that producing hit rap records made for a better living than slinging crack in the neighborhood. It would produce the same style of problem, but at least you could stop selling rock. Think about it. The problem with having money is that someone always wants it. The problem with having crack is someone always needs it. The line between want and necessity begins to blur. Have you ever seen someone smoke crack? As they put their lips to the tiny pipe, their eyes light up like a Republican in a strip club. The same thing goes for money. If you’re in a casino and someone hits, they get pumped like a junkie who just scored. In both cases, everyone around these victors wait in nervous anticipation for their turn. Money and crack were both introduced by our government with the hopes of controlling the populace. One was directed at establishing while the other sought elimination. Each agent became the cause and solution for many of society’s problems. It’s a simple comparison, but one that should be noted.

Hmmm… I don’t know what the point of that exercise was, but it just came out because Notorious B.I.G.’s Juicy was the first song played in my office today. Well, that, and the fact that last night I went out in pursuit of money and wound up getting hooch. It’s a vicious cycle that began with a shift at Webster Hall for the Beatles cover band, The Fab Faux. They pulled off a spot on performance of Abby Road before kicking into the hits during their second set. Gigs and I (wo)manned the front door for the first half of the night before Noah joined us for a while. The crowd was sweet except for one guy who got mad and told me to fuck off while he tore off his bracelet and threw it in my face. That type of actions really makes me laugh. Anyway, it was an older, drunker crowd, and they had a rowdy good time.

By 11pm I made my way back down to the neighborhood. My hope was to catch up on some sleep, but instead Dana and I decided to get a couple drinks. I swung by her house, and we saddled up at 151 where Danny was pouring the drinks while Mr. Perez played a solid mix of old punk and hardcore tunes. We shot the shit with Molly for awhile, and the two girls tried to bully me into buying a plane ticket for SXSW. They actually had me considering the idea of getting a credit card, but more debt isn’t desired. We took a seat and watched as the Diamond Nights spillover began to mildly crowd the bar. Laura Little Man cruised in with Steve and filled us in on what we’d missed. After a glass of whiskey, we called it a night and I went home to get cozy with Family Guy.

Words From The Street, (aka Cunts On MTV).
*** Tonight you might be going to the L-D Section I show at Mercury or The French Kicks at Bowery or The Kasabian show at Irving. Either way, you should cruise by Atomique afterwards for the possibility of free beer and New Order tunes. Go to Melody Nelson for RSVP instructions. Check out the flyer below for details:



*** Take a second to listen to Black Lipstick’s new single, Bob Fosse. They have been one of my favorite bands to come out of Texas in awhile. I remember seeing Black Lipstick at Hanks Saloon with The Fiery Furnaces opening way back in the day. There were 20 people at the show, and Little Chris got so drunk that he tried to start a fight right before puking all over a Rite Aide. Luckily I diffused the fight and Erin helped me get him home.

*** I wonder if Pete’s P.O. will join him at the awards show. He is up for some of the dumbest awards ever invented. If he’s the sexist man of the year, call me Brad Pitt.

*** The House says there will be less titty on television. The FCC is beefing up their indecency fines for the boob tube. Thank god the kids of today are so internet savvy.

*** I don’t like the band, but I like the style. Locust boycott all the Clear Channel venues on the upcoming Ipecac tour. It’s a double edged sword because they will also alienate their fan base in those markets, (if one exists).

*** The Cocteau Twins didn’t spend much time broken up. This was expected.

*** Want to know what Canadian’s loved about 2004? Yeah, me neither. If you are bored, check out what our neighbors to the north deemed the best of the best.

*** So go already. George Michael chooses to fade away rather than continue his burn out.

Ok, sorry this post was so boring.

posted by jayloose at 11:31 AM 4 comments   

John Cougar Fuck My Face.
Vulgarity for no valid reason is an easy way to get me through the day. A quick question: Does anyone have acid reflux? The back of my throat has been burning worse than herpes for the past couple days, and yet I choose to ignore it. Yes, I am a dumber than Boner from Growing Pains. All these stupid ailments plague me and yet I continue to avoid using my health coverage. Maybe inhaling 10 drinks and a pulled pork sandwich wasn’t the best idea, but I’ve had worse. Like the time I was Rambo for Halloween.

Now Playing: Tequila Tuesday.
Finding fault in your life is a difficult task when you are so kick ass. Yeah, I’m boasting, but only because my night was an all around good time. For the past couple evenings my life has been like Richard Grieco circa 1989 minus all the cocaine. Last night began when Flight of the Navigator and I met up and headed to Sin-e. You wouldn’t know it from walking with him, but he does work in the Lower East Side. Between Norfolk and Attorney, he took the corner at ever street looking for the rock club, (this continued after I told him Sin-e is on Attorney). This behavior could only mean one thing; we were in for a mini-shitshow.

Before a PBR could find my hand, we were greeted by the Hawk who was trying to get his kicks in before heading south to legally score some pain killers. A thank you goes out to Jeff for passing me the PS recordings a few moments before they were called to the stage. As the five-piece took the stage, I didn’t know what was in store for my ears because I’d heard they took the music in a different direction since the recording of the small mini-disc Patrick passed me ages ago. With the luxury of no expectations, I was sucked in by the lush sounds PS had to offer. From the start, Patrick’s voice jumps out at you. Some folks I spoke to thought it could use a tweak or two, but for me, it was right on. It’s a unique pitch with splashes of an Irish accent hidden at the end of his versus. The warm sound coming from the cellist added a great layer to the duel guitars. The guitar parts were so interesting. There were bridges were the guys would play the same melodies on different ends of the neck. It had a minute effect on the songs, but it did get me excited.

Dave cruised in during the set and we began to talk SXSW. This is a quick open call to anyone who’d like me to cover the festival for their magazine, web site or just personally. Buy me a plane ticket and I’ll hook you up like Captain Crunch with Crunch Berries. Anyway, a few songs into the show, Clint had an unfortunate bass string break, but they fought right through it and jumped into a tune that had Jeff playing some electronic beats from behind the kit. PS is difficult to nail down so I can’t throw around the typical name drops. All I can say is their music is carefully composed in a manner that never has anyone overplaying. Each member perfectly compliments their broadly cast, atmospheric rock sound.

A Short, But Necessary Interlude.
Hawkins, Beach and I quickly bolted from Sin-e in search of a quick bite before heading to the second show. We decided Juanita’s would suit our needs. We scored a decent booth towards the back and threw back their unique Mexican mashup cuisine. My only problem was the damn waitress. She was celebrating surly season which plain pisses me off. I’m giving her the benefit of the bad day doubt, but seriously if I would have known the waitress was going to treat me like we were at Schillers then I wouldn’t have bothered. Anyway, their pulled pork sandwiches are better than finding money in a pair of neglected jeans, and the price (besides the margaritas) is hipster friendly.

The third stop on our tour was Rothko which has a super chill door guy named Mike who I later learned plays guitar in The Izzys. As we walked into the club, Dennis was making some rounds. It’s nearly impossible to not support this guy if you are acquainted. He rarely rocks anything but great spirits and is one person I’m always happy to see. Dennis is like Gem; he’s truly outrageous. Anyway, I did a quick catch up session with Abe before Laura Burhenn took the stage. Her set drove me to taking tequila shots. I’m sorry, but I’m not ready to admit that Fiona rip offs are my thing. It will never happy. You’d sooner find me dead in a bathtub of piss and whiskey, (which almost happened once). She even began one of her songs with some sort of Fuck Bush statement that couldn’t even save the grace. Some people like her style of songwriting. I assure you, Jay is not one of them.

As we pounded into Tequila Tuesday, Beach brought it to my attention that this would be the first time seeing Saints + Lovers without being completely shitcanned. With this looming over my conscious, I quickly took another shot that nearly destroyed me. I don’t know what it was, but it grabbed at my throat, twisted, kicked and burned. It was like my last girlfriend, (what girlfriend?). While I gathered my wits, we settled into a great set by the local three-piece. Once again I’m at a loss for comparison. Everyone claims they sound like Jeff Buckley, but since my life has been without him up to this point, I couldn’t confirm such a statement. What I can say is Dennis’ songs have come a long way since his days in The Realistics. The interplay of the guitars build and build until the gap is breached by a drum fill and Dennis’ bittersweet voice jumps into a chorus. The guitars have distinctly different sounds characterized by juxtaposing tones. His falsetto doesn’t get showcased with this new band because they aren’t the party band of the past. This music is seriously morose, but they couple this with an overall inventive feel that creates a sort of cathartic experience for the listeners. Keep an ear to these guys. As they tighten the screws, Saints + Lovers could make a big splash in an even bigger pool. Thanks to Audrey for hooking up the great night.

Bring In The Closer.
After the set we sat around chatting for a bit, and I was psyched Nora let me in on her new L.E.S. dining secret. Sarah also teased me with the fact that she got to hear three of the new Weezer tracks at work yesterday. Why can’t labels bring records into the Law School for advanced listening? A bit after 11pm Beach and I hit the streets with the intention of stopping by 2A for a drink. Plans changed when Clint yelled out to us from across Rivington. PS was hanging out at 151 so we decided to further our inebriation at the solid establishment. A tequila shot or two later, and we were back on the street. We closed out the night sipping beers and pounding a shot at 2A while playing catch up with some of the familiar faces. My night ended with some roasted red pepper and goat cheese potato chips which could be considered the new cream dream. It was an all around stellar Tuesday evening warm-up for the guaranteed fuckfest that will when The Shout Out Louds play 10 back-to-back sets at the Bowery next week. A kid can dream can’t he?

Words From The Street, (aka Whore Me).
*** Matt G-Funk just called to let me know there is a new Chipotle opening at 8th and Green Streets. Thank God; walking over to Saint Marks was such a pain in the ass. Bring on the free burritos.

*** Apartment Hunters: Check out Daylen's bitching East Village apartment. She has two rooms for rent and can be reached here via email (daylen@cloud9.net) for more information.

*** Trail of Dead hit the road to properly support their new record Worlds Apart. Get your Irving Plaza tickets while you still can. Junkmedia has a decent interview with the Texas boys.

*** If New Order thought they were burnt out, wait till the Brits get done with their Coachella set. And by the way, what the fuck is up with NME and all these bullshit ads?

*** Any chance I could get Jeremy Pivan to trade lives with me? If not, I’ll settle for Owen Wilson.

*** The good people at Cornerstone are really pushing things these days. Now they have the new Fisherspooner video for us to enjoy. I never got into this jazz when it first hit, but from the sounds of this new single, it could be danceable.

*** Speaking of videos, The Stills have a new one out for Love and Death that features the lovely Emily from Metric and Broken Social Scene. I hope they put out a killer sophomore record. This video is great.

*** I don’t see this happening, but a new version of whoring is now available on Ebay.

*** Captain Tater Tot, I have a new number for your late night phone messages. Call this dickbrain. Question social barriers? You can start with my taint.

*** And finally, I’m not going to say it. No, you say it. Ok, Ok, I’ll say it. Madonna sucks. This only serves as further proof. How many bandwagons can one aging pop icon hop on?

posted by jayloose at 3:08 PM 4 comments   

Two Turntables And A Microphone.
Do what you can to bail from your office on time and get down to the L.E.S. because my hood is where it’s at. Tonight’s menu begins with an appetizer featuring local friends PS who are playing a FREE show. No that wasn't a mistake. This is a showcase and they need good people like you to help fill it out. Check out these details and don’t fuck about. Get to the club on time.

PS
Tuesday, February 15
@ Sin-e (Attorney btwn Houston & Stanton)
FREE (7pm)
Check out their tracks: Pylons and Spelling

Following the show I’m going in search of dinner. Who’s coming with me? Once my belly is full of something that isn’t vodka or tequila, I’ll be hitting up the Saints + Lovers set at tonight’s installment of Vicious. Check out what Ms. Melody Nelson has in store:

Vicious @ Rothko (Suffolk btwn Rivington & Delancey)
Featuring: 11pm - Orange Park
10pm - Saints + Lovers
9pm - Laura Burhenn (with full band!)
8pm - Ezra Reich (EP release party!)
With Guest DJs: Melody Nelson & DJ Fludd!
(Only 8 Bones!)

On a more serious note; it has been reattached and yes, I dumped her, (Thanks Del).

posted by jayloose at 3:08 PM 0 comments   

I Love You Cause I Have To.
With Builder on the other side of the country and Kyle rarely at home, 186 is like a barren wasteland fit for me to trash. On yesterday’s return trip, God decided to heap insult on my Valentine less injury by pissing on me the entire way home. Luckily my mailbox had some love waiting for me. Mom sent me a sweet card, as she always does, and Whitney sent me a package. This care package contained a four disc mix titled Useful Timber Jargon Vol. 1-4 (which is simply amazing), a bitching drawing of a unicorn and a rainbow done in markers and a VHS copy of The Experts starring John Travolta. Check out this summary to realize how awesome Whit is for finding this:

Near the eastern edge of the USSR is a village populated by Russians who speak and act American, where KGB trainees go to practice. The town is mired in the 50's, and the new KGB hotshot fears his agents will fail to learn real US culture. He goes to New York and hires two young hipsters to come to "Nebraska" to open a nightclub. He drugs them en route to Russia, and they think they've awaken in the Midwest. There they turn a tiki lounge into a hip club, teach townies to dance, and introduce pop culture. Both flip for local chicks. Things get dangerous when the townsfolk taste freedom, a KGB faction tries to kill our heroes, but will the guys figure out they're not in Nebraska?

Point is: when you have family and friends like this, being a loner on Valentine’s Day isn’t a difficult task. Thanks guys! I spent the few free hours of my day working on some Loose Record issues and helping my little sister put together her resume. It was a productive little window in time. By 8pm it was time to get to the Mercury to catch an early set by Blue Sparks. As I rolled into the club, Greg was checking Ghory’s I.D. so we stepped in together. After a quick couple hellos, we were in the backroom hanging out with Denise who was working the backroom bar station. Beach joined us as Blue Sparks took the stage.

I Predict A Culkin.
Last night was the first time I had seen Blue Sparks, and my ears liked what they heard. Mike Dos Equis (formerly of The Realistics) has taken over on bass in the new lineup that also includes the addition of Ken Larkin on drums. Though their lack of playing live shows together showed just a bit, I was thoroughly impressed by their sound. First of all the vocals are right up my ally. There is some nice back and forth harmonizing between Phil and Kerry who both wield guitars. Those two are like a double helix in that they are completely intertwined throughout the course of the set. They play off each other in an oddly romantic fashion, (think of your aunt and uncle at a family reunion). Phil’s vocals are tough to pin down, but my take is he must be a big fan of Ian Curtis and Lou Reed. As Ghory and I discussed, they have some interesting rhythms set behind some herky-jerky rock riffs. Mike rocks in his usual spastic fashion; bouncing around the stage like a possessed wielder of the axe. Check these kids out when they play a Tsunami Benefit at Crash Mansion on March 2nd with The Fever, The Natural History and Clap Your Hands and Say Yeah.

Speaking of Clap Your Hands and Say Culkin, they were second on last night’s bill. This band has been climbing the radar since their Pianos Residency which is the first time I saw them. They definitely made a better impression on me at the Mercury. Their sound was a lot crisper. It had the punchy attitude that got lost in the mix at Pianos. Their style is a solid mix of minimal beats, Violent Femmes sounding vocals, a little CAN droning and an all around Talking Heads boogie. My one critique would be for the lead singer to put down the harmonica and loose some of the smugness. He seems so uninspired by what he’s doing that it made me upset. Take a lead from your multi-instrumentalist who bounces around while looking like he actually likes what he’s playing. CYHASY had one song that sounded like Joy Division’s Atmosphere which basically rounds out all the necessary influences needed for me to like a band. They also have this track which is probably called Satan which is will be prime for remixing so DJ’s get your tables ready. Check them out at the Tsunami Benefit listed above, and stare in amazement at how much the lead singer looks like Ghory.

During changeover I caught up with kids like DJ Del, Mike, Audrey, Daylen, Sarah, Gigs and Bridgette before settling into the back corner for a healthy dousing of Brit fever. As the Kaiser Chiefs hustled past us on their way to the stage, The Beatles called them to arms from the house speakers, (Everybody's Got Something To Hide Except For Me And My Monkey, Thanks Del). As they took the stage, the lead singer introduced the band and they ripped into an energetic set of rock. They look like a bunch of misfit rude boys looking to cause trouble in their dapper suits and ties. The bass player did have a ridiculous black and red striped suit on which made him look more Zoot than rock, but he pulled it off with his best Silent Bob / Tumblehawk impression. The music was loud and raunchy, but it was held together by some solid work on the keys. The lead singer bounced around like a monkey and even worked in some cowbell. Despite his Diego Elefant like arm movements, I was digging his vibe. They were called back for an big encore that made me want save the queen, but I did no such thing. The Kaiser Chiefs will surely dominate overseas, but I don’t know if the rest of America will bite on this next big thing. They do have songs that remind me of The Fall and if that isn’t enough to get you out to their show on March 25th at Bowery with Morningwood, then you my friend, have no soul, (tickets for that show go on sale Wednesday). Check out Brooklyn Vegan for some pictures of the Kaiser Chiefs.

posted by jayloose at 12:17 PM 0 comments   

For Best Results: Choose Romance.
Another Valentine’s Day is upon us, and without any sort of date lined up, I’m destined to spend it at home before checking out some rock at the Mercury Lounge. This is a solid option for a kid who isn’t carrying a heavy heart, but this holiday, as much as you’d like to say you don’t care, isn’t the best day to spend alone. Maybe next year I could persuade someone to make the trip to the Philippines for this makeout party, (thanks Beach). Instead of spending this time getting all Oberst on your, I’d like to take this opportunity to send my love to my family and friends who contribute to making my life so damn kick ass. Without all of you, my life would be a lot less interesting. Thanks and have a beautiful Valentine’s Day.

When The Going’s Good, Don’t Go.
Friday comes with mixed reviews attributed mostly impart to the fowl mood that cast a shadow over my late night activities. Most of the evening was roses. My night began around 7pm when Noah stopped in for a brief hang before we went on our separate ways. We sat around talking about Sam Champion and Saturday’s festivities before I left to meet a new friend at Max Fish. Cara, who reminded me that we had met before at one of Christine’s parties in Brooklyn, expressed some interest in penning a piece or two for Loose, so we met to break some ice and explain our mission. Despite our conversation getting cut short by dinner plans, I had a killer time getting to know Cara.

Our time was cut short because the Asians were taking me to Chinatown for dinner. Whoa, I shouldn’t say the Asians, but the cab that picked me up had Christie, Julia and Hawkins in the back seat. We rolled down to some killer joint on Mott just north of Canal Street. It was the kind of speak easy your Asian friends only know about. We rocked a family style dinner that was huge and mad cheap. The only problem was the bones in the duck that made Julia have a minor freak out. The food was kind of oily, which plagued my stomach for the rest of the evening, but it didn’t matter because, at the end of the day, I was able to say I’d eaten both meals with Hawkins.

After our meal we headed to the Luna Lounge to see Walk Humongous minus Stevo. There were some familiar faces in the crowd, but you could obviously feel the tension left in the wake of the Jesus Crisis departure. The band took the stage and played some killer warm up tune with their backs turned to the crowd. From there it felt like a downhill slide that is all too natural when a band loses their guitar player the night before a gig. It was apparent that Max has grown used to not having a guitar in his hands, but he did his best to keep up with Colin and Noah while trying to sing. It will come back with more practice, but Friday night wasn’t anything pretty. A few songs into the show, I had to bolt, but I heard the rest of the set was crazy. Bloody lips sink ships. Look for Walk Humongous to get back on track in the weeks to come.

As I rolled up to the Mercury, Vaughn hastily asked me to hold the front door for a minute. I kind of laughed thinking he was joking, but then he bolted inside the club so I pretended to be authoritative. A few minutes later he was back and told me he had to walk a blind couple through the crowd and into the backroom. With work now behind me, I stepped into the club only to be greeted by Essie and Dr. Kong. Helen and Brenda were also near the front door waiting eagerly for the Baby Dayliner set. We snagged a drink and headed to the back corner to catch the end of the Bling Kong set.

If you don’t already know, Bling Kong is a collective of kids who are all show and more go. There was something like nine or ten people onstage, half of which were playing an instrument. I couldn’t see to well, but there were three drummers, a guitar player or two, a bass player and four cheerleaders. The sound wasn’t 100%, but they made up for it with hilarious theatrics, cheers and some crazy visuals being projected on a small screen. Bling Kong is there to have a good time, and when watching this band you can’t help but smile. They have it all, hot girls, 8T’s inspired tunes and some Grease esq duets. Check them out if you are a fan of fun.

During change over the room started to fill with familiar faces and we settled in for a kick ass set by Baby Dayliner. If there is one person that has a queue for Valentine’s dates, it would be this cat. He could the shit out of Har Mar Superstar in any dance off while Casey Spooner sat in the corner wondering what he’s doing wrong. Baby D’s one man show is amazing. Imagine if Kevin Bacon had a sultry romantic voice and was prone to showing up at local clubs to do karaoke over early New Order inspired beats. He took the stage masked behind a black bandana, and by the third or fourth song this gangster had the whole room bouncing to his preprogrammed beats. The guy has style, and though I can’t say much about his records, his live show blew me away.

Near the end of the set, I packed it in and returned home in a pissy mood. Sleep wasn’t in the cards until I broke my promise to Jesus and caught a buzz. It was sweet dreams from then on out.

Where Did All The Old Friends Go?
Saturday I woke up and killed some time hanging out with Builder and his friend Pat from CMU. After some crappy basketball, I met up with Beach for some Clinton Street brunch. My meal consisted of some clam chowder (say chow-dar!), and a Croquet Monsieur or something. It was basically a delicious grilled ham and Swiss. It may become my new weekend staple. David Cross was dining a few tables away, and I wanted to get the nerve to ask him about the rumors regarding Arrested Development’s cancellation. Thankfully those were dispelled when Liz sent me this link regarding the show. Check out the “Special Message,” and breathe a sigh of relief.

After breakfast Beach and I decided it would be appropriate to cruise into the afternoon with a Carbomb so we stopped by Nice Guy Eddie’s for a quickie. The rest of my afternoon was spent listening to records and talking to mom about her latest casino exploit. It’s kind of hilarious that mom and Bruce hit up the casino every other weekend. It gives them this sort of trashy adventurous side. My mom’s a hustler, yo. As the sun went down, I proceeded to hang with Kyle while making a mix tape or two for the Loose Record party. By 8pm Del, Matt, Kabbir, Miriam, Josh and Pat joined in the 186 preshow hang. A little after 9pm we hit the streets.

What is it with the door guy at Luna Lounge? He can’t remember a face for shit. I’ll go in the club, pop outside for a second and then he’ll ask me for ID when I reenter. It’s without fail. It’s not a big deal, but com’n you big cowboy, help me out. We arrived to a decently packed room for Frank Bango’s set which was tampered by the pack of kids filling the front half of the room by sitting on the floor. It’s a fucking rock show people. If you want to sit down, go down the street to the Living Room and leave your balls at home. Fuck! That shit really annoys the piss out of me. Anyway, Bango was playing his solid take on Elvis Costello rock. There is no other way to describe his style. He has the Elvis bit down to his onstage mannerisms. Great songs played by an even greater guy.

During changeover the room began to fill with more familiar faces. I ran into Dave right after he had spilled a drink all over some girl’s birthday cake. He felt really bad, but the incident was pure hilarity. I was also fortunate enough to take a tequila shot with Beach and Bango as we waited for Sam Champion. By the time Noah and the boys took the stage, the back room was packed so we had to open the doors so the spillover could hear the show in stereo. This was my second Sam Champion show in just over a week, and to be quite frank, they kicked major ass. The band just keeps getting better as their balls for the rock continue to grow. They are taking more chances, rocking out with more abandon and blowing my mind on a bi-monthly basis. Scott RANA joined the boys for a rousing rendition of Vampire Blues. It was funny to watch Noah prance around the stage sanz guitar. They bookended the show with new(ish) songs, the first being the BSP sounding track I love so much and the last being Cheadlebug which is a gem a la Sean.

At the end of their set I bolted over to The Hanger to make sure Mike was holding down the fort in proper fashion. He began spinning a bit after my arrival, and the Loose Record crew took turns pumping out the jams. Christina did a top notch job trading email addresses for PBR’s and buttons. Hopefully you all got some schwagg, and if you didn’t ask me the next time you see me and I’ll gladly hook you up. The place remained pretty full throughout the course of the evening and the bartenders looked nice and busy. Thanks so much to the kids who came out and supported the cause and thanks to Natalka and Betsy for being so gracious. Hopefully there will be more in the future so all you suckers who missed it can come out and watch Mike and I spin more hip hop. A quick note, my highlight must have been screaming the words to NOFX’s Bob with Mike and Rebecca as the night came to a close.

Sunday’s Don’t Get Much Bigger.
On Sunday I was able to get out of bed at a reasonable hour thanks to a phone call from Jenna a little after the clock struck noon. She persuaded me to get off my ass and meet her on 59th and 5th so we could check out Christo's The Gates while the weather was agreeable. After the battle to find a working subway, I only managed to be a few minutes late. We dove headfirst into the mass of people there to get a glimpse of the “art”. Our impression of the entire project could be summed up with one word, meyhhh. It wasn’t nearly as impressive as I thought it might be, but damn, there were heaps of people there to prove me wrong. My favorite part was the Gatekeepers who pranced around in some Pre-School sham with a staff made out of a paint roller with a tennis ball attached to the top. They were the real stars.

So Jenna and I pranced through the park. She gawked at dogs while I expressed my nervousness about being around so many people. We eventually decided we had enough and hit the streets. We made it to the 86th Street theater for a 3:30pm showing of The Aviator. Note to Martin: please try to make a movie somewhere near 2 hours long. This shit you’ve been pulling has got my knickers in a bunch. Please return to the gold old days. The film was decent, but my ass fell asleep halfway through and my antsy discomfort reigned supreme. Thankfully I didn’t want to come off as a weirdo, so I managed to sit still throughout most of the film.

After parting ways with Jenna, I once again screwed up my subway entrance, (none of the signs said Uptown ONLY). All in all it cost me $8 to go uptown and back. Once my feet were firmly planted on more familiar ground, I stopped into Westville to say hello to Christie, Bri and Sam while they finished up their dessert. It’s always a pleasure to sit around with those girls and talk shop. Remember ladies, Jay Belin is a girl’s best friend. Ok, I just punched myself where my balls should be. Anyway, on my way down to 186, I stopped by Hawkins and we rolled down to the apartment to watch Arrested Development. Las night’s episode was hilarious. You should definitely tune in every Sunday at 8:30pm. It’s well worth it. We ordered some tots from Criff dog and wasted away flipping back and forth from The Grammy’s to the Family Guy. Does anyone else still have a post Green Day performance boner? My pee-pee has been stricken by rigor mortis.

posted by jayloose at 3:10 PM 0 comments   

Loose Record Presents: No Cover Saturday.
As many of you already know, Loose Record is proud to be apart of some killer music and a great party coming to you this Saturday, (that means tomorrow folks). So come down to the club and support the bands before coming to The Hanger to support me and the rest of the Loose Record crew. We’d appreciate your attendance and may even score you a free PBR. Who can resist a free PBR? The details are as follows:


Sam Champion w/ Frank Bango
Saturday, Feb 12th (8:30pm)
@ Luna Lounge (Ludlow btwn Houston & Stanton)

Loose Record presents...
Sam Champion and Frank Bango Afterparty
Saturday, Feb 12th (10:30pm-They Shut Us Down)
@ The Hanger Bar (217 E 3rd btwn B/C)
w/ Loose DJ's on Rabid Rotation
Drinks: $2 PBR & 8Balls; $4 PBR + Well Whiskey; $4 Wells; $3 Staton Island Ice Teas (Gross but cheap!).

Loose will be trading email addresses for PBR's and buttons throughout the night. Come down and show us some love!

PS: I just got sent the new video for The Bravery's An Honest Mistake, and if you played with dominos as a kid like me, you'll dig on this video. It makes me yearn for the good old days. Much like the lead singer's happy trail.

posted by jayloose at 4:35 PM 5 comments   

posted by jayloose at 3:16 PM 9 comments   

Like A Goddamn Magic Show.
Did you watch The O.C. last night, (or as Dan calls it, The OC; pronounced Awwwk)? We you as disturbed as this longtime fan first time complainer? Granted we finally got to see the much anticipated kiss between Marissa and Alex, but the rest of the episode was so out of character it nearly left me speechless, (yeah, I know, it’s not possible). My first complaint is with Sandy Cohen’s strange affair with that, as Jenna would call her, pointy nosed bitch. Sandy doesn’t seem like the type of man with a cheating heart. He is way to honest of a family man to go behind the back of his wife, miss Valentines Day and then smooch another lady. It doesn’t sit well. In addition, it only took two episodes for Seth to become completely obsessed with Summer who is in need of a cheeseburger this season. Zach plays like it isn’t bothering him, but if he had balls like Ryan, Seth would be nursing a couple black eyes. Now let’s get back to the lesbian action. Marissa, who seemed to love the dick up until a couple weeks ago, is all set to have a torrid love affair with Ms. On-the-Fence Sexuality. Alex’s sexuality is more ambiguous than Ace and Gary. Anyway, all I can say is thank Christ the comic book storyline is no longer in play. That was the dumber than Luke’s gay dad from last season.

Since You Hate The O.C. Roundup.
I could ramble on for days in regards to the show, but I’ll stop because some of you hate the series. Anyway, after a hot second of musical collaboration with Dan and Kyle, Jenna stopped into 186 to catch this week’s episode. It was great because she talks to the television as much as me. Ghory also crept out of the basement and stopped in to make love to The Future while we gawked at the weirdness. With 15 minutes left in the show, Builder cruised into the apartment and tried to jump right in. Silly Builder, bitches is for kids. Following the show, we wasted some time waiting for our chance to stop in to the Mercury Lounge to catch some rock.

Around 10pm it was time to hit the street. We slid into the club with enough time to get a drink and say hello to Beach and the crew before Chin Up Chin Up took the stage. The Midwest boys kicked off their set with the title track to their debut, We Should Have Never Lived Like We Were Skyscrapers. Beach and I called sung along with the first few lines of the solid dreamy track. It’s amazing to think that these boys aren’t part of the Montreal scene that the press has been creaming over. Chin Up Chin Up consists of five modest looking guys who are extremely polite and composed while onstage. Besides some of their drum beats, their style lacks the post-everything sound coming from both sides of the country. They’ve written some top notch tunes that should land them a deal with a label like Arts & Crafts or Sub Pop.

While they kept me bouncing to tunes like Collide The Tide (my jam), The Architect Has A Gun and the wonderfully titled I Hope For Tumbleweeds, the crowd grew more receptive of their intriguing sound. Their master manipulator on the keyboard adds a spacey element to their forward thinking rock, but it all comes back to the interplay of the two guitars. By the middle of their set Dana and DTL had made their way into the back room to enjoy the jams. The set concluded with a rousing bang as they said goodbye to New York with Falcons and Vulcans. The guitar parts in this song remind me of Wilco, but the bridges are something unique to the band. I’m highly recommending you check out their record and I’ll keep you updated as to when Chin Up Chin Up is playing in the area.

After the set we were greeted by Gigs who unfortunately missed the set. As a few monkeys said goodbye, Beach, Dana, Joe, Joe’s friend who was really nice, but whose name I forget and I hit the bar for tequila shots. Soft took the stage, and drew us back into the show room. They were kind of funny at first, but then it was easy to see how they were positioning themselves. Five guys from New York who were playing music that sounded like it came from Britain. The similarities to The Music are quite obvious, but it sounded like they were going for a (as Beach called it) Manchester sound. Don’t think the Smiths though. Think the twilight years of Factory Records. There was an undeniable Happy Mondays feel to the entire set,(minus the excessive drug usage). It wasn’t bad, but I thought they needed to smooth a few things out before they will take off. Near the end of the set Dana and I had enough so we trekked back to our respective apartments and called it a night.

Don’t Take It Out On Me.
*** So this clip might be better for a Monday afternoon, but if you have some end of the week aggression, don’t get mad at your coworkers. Just challenge them to a duel much like this one between The Giraffes lead singer and the biggest friend they could find. It’s hilarious at first, but then my insides started to hurt, (Real or Windows Media).

*** If you are like me, then you are more excited about seeing The Ponys than Bloc Party when they share a bill at the Bowery. Unfortunately those two shows have already sold out, but our good friends at The Mercury have added a Ponys show on April 10th. Look for advance tickets. Since The Ponys debut is called Laced With Romance we consider them to be on the forefront of the revolution. Come join the movement.

posted by jayloose at 11:54 AM 5 comments   

Saying Goodbye Is Never Easy.
Tonight is the last chance you’ll get to see Walk Humongous at Luna Lounge, so make it a priority to drop in and throw down. Unfortunately, you won’t be seeing Stevo with the band. More on that below.


Dear all you Humongous Walkers,

Jesus Crisis here. After much talk over the last week, WH and I have decided to split due mostly to creative differences and our diverging notions for Walk Humongous in the long term.

It was a great ride, and one that I'll not soon forget. Thanks to all who came to the shows, bought / played our cd, and showed interest in all things Humongous.

I thank you, and the guys (ridiculus wierd, christopher humongous, and mustacioso) thank you as well.

And, if you're in the neighborhood, swing by Luna Lounge tonight and check them out -- its FREE and they go on at 10:30.

xoxoxoxoxo,
Jesus Crisis

posted by jayloose at 10:44 AM 2 comments   

Love Is In The Air. It Smells Like Hippies.
Tis’ the season for lamenting one’s love or in my case loneliness. Fortunately this doesn’t bother me, though it’s always nice to have someone for the Hallmark holiday. The past year the relationship portion of my life had its ups and downs, but there weren’t any big shakeups to discuss. After much discussion and long winded emails, Whitney and I have decided to change this aspect of our lives. We are penning a manifesto of sorts. We are starting a movement that will simply be known as, ‘Choose Romance’. We shall be known as new romantics. I know what you’re thinking, and yes, this idea sounds gayer than a rainbow, but that just might be the point. Pretense and better judgment will be thrown out the window in an effort to find some sort of meaning for all the bullshit emotions kids in their 2T’s have to sort out. So get ready for the winds of change. They’re blowing more than Paris Hilton. Stay tuned for the manifesto. The crowd is hungry.

On a sidenote: Jay Belin now plays drums in Dashboard Confession.

Where Were The Wayans Brothers?
Readers of this bullshit rejoice; 186 is back online. While throwing back a Mr. Nice, the cable guy stopped in to make our apartment Road Runner ready. It’s a much needed addition to our monthly bills since we are attempting to launch an online publication. Once the boss left, I grabbed my gear and headed to Webster Hall where we were hosting the 1st Annual Plug Awards show. The bill was a hodgepodge of various indie artists spanning across a variety of genres. The lineup included Saul Williams, RJD2 w/Aesop Rock, Sufjan Stevens, Ted Leo / Pharmacists and Dillinger Escape Plan. The entire crew was onsite last night and everything went according to plan. The event, from my perspective was a success, so look out for more in the years to come. Unfortunately, I didn’t get to meet the Wayans brothers.

Fuck Yeah That Wide.
Like I said before, make sure you stop into the Mercury Lounge for some Chin Up Chin Up this evening. It should be a solid set, (read below for more info). I couldn’t be more excited. I’ll be running over there after the girl-on-girl make out sessions expected in this weeks episode of The O.C. Later you should stop by Mickey’s Blue Room (Ave C btwn 10th/11th) to check out DJ Del on the decks with help from Kibbles ‘n Bits aka Lucy and Tumble.

Sorry this was such a shit post. I’m feeling tired, lazy and maybe a bit sick.

posted by jayloose at 1:14 PM 5 comments   

Overexpose Yourself. It Burns.
When the weather turns and you get pissed off because you didn’t take advantage of the nice nights; expect a hearty ‘I told you so,’ from moi. Tonight there are numerous reasons to leave the comfort of your cockroach infested apartment behind so you can get out and enjoy some live music. Check out the options:

1.) Demander w/Four Volts @ Pianos: If you’re like me, you love girls and rock. This show couples the best of both worlds. Demander will give you a hug a moment after breaking your heart. This kind of love can only be tolerated from the lovely (read: fierce) Sivan and Karen.

2.) The Plug Awards @ Webster Hall: If you’re attending this event, there’s a good chance you’ll see me. This event will feature full sets from Saul Williams, Ted Leo/Pharmacists, Dillinger Escape Plan, RJD2 featuring Aesop Rock and Sufjan Stevens. There will also be a DJ set by the much talked about Tim Sweeney (DFA). Stop through the club and get a definite bang for your buck. Afterparty to follow at Rothko with a special performance by Beans.

3.) Kimya Dawson w/Trachtenberg Family Slideshow Players @ Tonic: This former Moldy Peach has been making a name for herself without her former sidekick Adam Green. If you are in the area and dig anything she’s done, you should check out this show. As previously blogged, Tonic is in a bit of a rough spot and may have to close its doors so it’s our responsibility to save it.

Duck Out Of Tomorrow’s Obligation.
This is just a heads up regarding an amazing band playing the Mercury Lounge tomorrow night, (Thursday, February 10). After watching the hot lesbian action that is sure to culminate on tomorrow’s episode of The O.C., cruise down to the Mercury for a set from the Chicago based five-piece Chin Up Chin Up. They made a stunning debut full-length We Should Have Never Lived Like We Were Skyscrapers, that was released by Flameshovel last summer. The record keeps blowing me away on a daily basis and I’m really excited to see how it translates to the live performance. Chin Up Chin Up should appeal to anyone who digs on Pavement, Broken Social Scene or Tortoise. Their sound spans across a dynamic spectrum, and one can only expect an outstanding live show after giving their record a few spins. It should prove to be the best 8bucks you’ll spend this Thursday.

I Love Rock Shows.
New Additions to The Bowery Ballroom:

April 1: Graham Coxen (x-Blur)
April 2: LCD Sound System
April 15: Brendan Benson
April 17 & 18: Ash & The Bravery

Well done Bowery!

Also on the radar, this benefit show in March:

posted by jayloose at 4:12 PM 2 comments   

Will You Be My Irish Valentine?
Last night I fell in love a total of three times, but before I go on to explain everyone should try this (no pun intended) kick ass game Mike emailed me. Here is your one and only chance to Drop Kick The Faint. Channel your inner punk and kick the shit out of the synth revivalists. Also, I haven’t seen this clip in awhile, but Hawkins just dropped it in my inbox and Mr. Nervous Pants is hilarious. And a quick sports note; since football season is over, my attention shifts to basketball. This is rightful retribution for the time they beat us on a last minute field goal the week after we upset Florida State and were championship hopefuls.

They Are Young. They Are Free.
My evening began with a bunch of running around that started at the Apple Store in SoHo. Mike needed some flyers and buttons to help promote for this weekend’s party so naturally I obliged. Then the plan was to stop by Luna to drop off a few flyers, but they had yet to open. A pit stop cheeseburger later, and I was on my way to the Bowery to give Noah and Frank a few flyers. It’s worth noting that Merida was getting set for a night behind the bar, (are you happy now?). Merida tends to bust my balls more than anyone about this blog. Those conversations are borderline ridiculous, but more than welcome. It’s nice to know someone is keeping you in check even if they aren’t being serious. The final stop was a 7:30pm meet up with Cami at Max Fish for a drink. We haven’t hung out in ages so it was nice to shoot some pool and sip a beer with her before the bar had a chance to get packed.

By 8:30pm I was back on the street and rounding the corner for the Mercury Lounge. My first walk through didn’t yield any fellow monkeys, but I received a phone call from Dana and she was right outside the venue. We hung out for a good 10 minutes shooting the shit while I tried to convince her to come into the club. Andy walked up to the club set to be out seeing his friends in Go To Town. She politely deferred my invitation, and as The Redwalls began their set, I crept back inside only to be met by Beach who was hanging at the front door. We grabbed fresh drinks and slid to the back corner to see what Capitol Records might have seen in these young chaps from Illinois. At first glance The Redwalls looked like a bunch of peacocks taking the piss out of the late 6T’s English style. They have a distinctive mod look covering up frames smaller than the last shit I took. They have enough sass and style to make Andrew Loog Oldham drool in delight. Much like Oldham’s discovery of The Stones and eventual shaping of their image, The Redwalls seem to be leaning on the potential between their adolescence and superstardom.

Not to jump the gun and equate the four cocksure kids to one of the biggest rock bands of all time, but these kids certainly take their cue from 1966 London. It’s rock and roll inspired by R&B and Soul. They play traditional classic rock that nods to greats like The Faces, The Beatles, The Band and The Small Faces. Don’t consider them another carbon copy. The Redwalls get away with wearing these influences on their sleeves by keeping the music pure through a focus on sweet vocal harmonies and energetic guitar riffs. As the front three members of the band took turns singing lead, they would antagonize the crowd wanting a response equal to the force they projected. Luckily they weren’t too dejected when the crowd didn’t reciprocate in full fashion. The bassist simply cried out, “New York; always too cool for school,” before ripping into their next tune.

Girls In Bands Make Me Smile.
After the set, Builder, Rob and I hustled back to 186 to drop of bags and pick up Kyle. Mr. Mud was super pumped up for the show. He is a massive Big Sleep fan. We got back to the club in time to catch half of Go To Town’s set. While standing in the back and shooting the shit with Denise (Happy Birthday D!) and Clint, I became transfixed by the four-piece. Andy told me they have shifted their sound around along with their guitarist, but what they settled on is the post-punk New York dance sound. The guitar player has some serious ability with his six strings, and he flashed undertones of Dick Dale while the rhythm section threw down tasty lines. Clint was smitten for the bass player, but I couldn’t take my eyes off the lead singer. She had one of those voices that drew me into and refused to let go. She also plays guitar and throws in some super sexy hand claps. Don’t be surprised if my fan status reaches groupie, (I should be so lucky).

During change over more familiar faces joined the crowd. Lucy and Tumblehawk came by at Good Times suggestion while Miriam came in to hang with the Jew. The redhead gay was on a mission to get shithoused so he did the obvious move; hung out with Greg (his boss) and Ian (his coworker). It was also nice to put a face to the name Jeff who, like Clint, plays in local favorite PS.

As the night pressed on, the room grew empty which was quite a disappointment since The Big Sleep have great potential. From the instant they started their show, more people emptied out of the backroom all with the same, ‘this is way to loud,’ look on their face. Noise rock is superb, especially when played loud, and I challenge anyone to a duel if they think otherwise. The band took a few songs to get into full swing, but once that point was reached it was on in head banging good fashion. Sonya, the bass player who also plays a lot of keys, used to hit the ivory for The Hong Kong. This drastic change in sound seems to fit her well as she constructs serious rhythmic grooves with Gabe, their no fuss drummer. The towering noise coming from Danny’s guitar caused the audience to shift with its vibration. His vocals had so much reverb on them it sounded like he was singing from the depths of a cave. The rhythm section was at his disposal as he wailed away on his ax and a key board slash mixer rig that created awesome electronic beats. The last time I saw these guys, there was a lot more blues guitar dousing their songs, but last night felt more like a mix of ambient noise and straight up Jimmy Page rock. Either way, I was impressed by both shows and still highly recommend The Big Sleep.

It’s worth noting that before their last song, this dialogue went on between Sonya, Kyle and Ian. Maybe Kyle was trying to stall them for Beach, but in any event he started shouting. In the sparsely populated back room this incident was both humorous and embarrassing all at once:

Kyle: OVEIS! (twice)
Sonya: What does that mean?
Kyle: You know what it means.
Ian: No Kyle, we don’t. What does it mean asshole?
Kyle: Fuck Pittsburgh!

As they finished their set, a disappointed Beach returned with Daylen and Machia in tow. The night was just getting started, but I had to call it quits. Lately I’ve been tired like a heroin addict with mono so my only choice was to return to 186 for some shuteye.

posted by jayloose at 1:44 PM 7 comments   

You Are My 3rd Favorite Child.
(Rt: Pic by Jasper) Before jumping into last night, it’s imperative you get out this evening to check out some of the rock in your neighborhood. Please review these options and heed my advice:

1.) The Big Sleep w/The Redwalls & Go To Town @ The Mercury Lounge: You’ve heard me ramble on about the beauty of The Big Sleeps droning blues rock, and tonight you have a great opportunity to see and hear why the boys at 186 love this band. They are cooler than Bogart and hotter than Bacall. Come early for the young Chicago based four-piece The Redwalls who do their best to reference the golden era of rock ‘n roll.

2.) The Epochs @ The Knit Tap Bar: This Brooklyn band is coming off of a month long residency at Nublu hosted by Justin C. They’ve jumped into another residency at the Knit Tap Bar. Bahamas bassist Kevin Smith has joined the line-up and will certainly add a new element to their already dynamic tunes.

3.) The Exploding Hearts @ The Luna Lounge: The ever changing Adam Ghory Band has resurfaced in the 212. Tonight is your first and last chance to see him as The Exploding Hearts. Stop by to find out what a year in Boston does for a young pop band. My guess is penning more tunes that call to mind our beloved Weezer.

The Difference A Day (Or Two) Makes.

As the NFL season grows ever distant in my rear view mirror, I am reminded of the last hurrah; the Pro Bowl. This game is much akin to post break-up sex. You participate, but you know it’s wrong. You enjoy it, but the act is meaningless. You want more, but we both know it’s over. These were the feelings guiding me through Monday. Thankfully rock doesn’t have an off season. The post work late afternoon was quite boring until Noah showed up to hang before our trip to the club. Ryan and Kyle eventually showed up, and we enjoyed some Bob Saget hosted America’s Funniest Home Videos. This reminded me of the good old days when my sisters and I would gather round the TV on Sunday night to watch Saget prattle on about some bunny rabbit shitting in living room.

By 8:30pm we set out for the long (read: short) walk to the Mercury Lounge. Sometimes I feel bad for my smoker friends who come over before shows at the Mercury. They are now subject to the No Smoking rule at 186, and when we leave for the club, they have a little more than a block to suck down their sweet nectar. They must hate me which isn’t a new concept. We said hello to Greg, who was outside being scholarly, before heading into the club. Thanks to Mr. Empire for the sweet hookup. As we made our way to the back room, Jin and her friend Jeff greeted us. We slid in the back to watch Dirty On Purpose go through their pre-show motions onstage. We were joined by other regulars like Dave, Essie (I have no idea how to spell her name) and DTL who wouldn’t allow a case of the Monday’s trip them up.

(Rt: Pic by Jasper) Dirty On Purpose took their cue from Marc and within the first few bars of the first song, I could tell this show would be more vibrant than the Friday gig. For some reason, I can’t remember the name of the first song they played, (cue Jin to put it in the comments section), but it set the tone for the entire set. The trading vocalization between George and Erika created a nice atmosphere that was accompanied by Erika’s lovely work on the keys that reminded me of early New Order, (way before they became the biggest shit in the U.K.). Upon hearing the intro to the second song, my ears perked up. The sharp cadence on the snare indicated it was time for one of their solid gold tracks, Go Back To Sleep.

Even after seeing Dirty On Purpose play a number of times, (most of which I do remember), there are still new discoveries to be made. Doug’s transitions are strong enough to help smooth out the broad musical canvas as the band shifts gears during most of their tunes. Sometimes it feels that not only his physical positioning, (Doug’s drums are often placed on stage right), but also his playing sets him apart from the band. If you close your eyes it sounds like the rest of the band acts as one autonomous piece of composition while taking their cues from Doug. In this way it felt like he is the conductor guiding the Dirty On Purpose orchestra. This is only validated by the intricately woven guitar parts that have a constant emotional pull in opposing directions.

(Rt: Pic by Jasper)The band often feels like they share an all business attitude. This is until Joe decides to dose the crowd with witty banter in an effort to fill the gaps between songs. My favorite example of this was Joe thanking the crowd and saying, “It’s hard for me to do something on a Monday night that I don’t get paid for,” before flashing a sly smile shadowed by his too-cool-for-school moustache. Dirty On Purpose proceeded to jump into All New Friends which features Erika on vocals. Last night was the first time I understood how big of an asset she is to the group. Her sexiness lies hidden behind a deceptively shy exterior, but her voice carries a sober confidence. It almost sounds like she found the perfect balance between Courtney Love’s howl and a Bjork’s sugary delicacy. Take for instance her 2rd echo on the chorus of Mind Blindness versus the harmonizing she does with George on his new song. This vocal style adds another credible reference to their resume.

The last two songs showed the dual nature of the band. The lead into Monument was very sullen. It was lead by Erika’s work on the keys, but it quickly got blown away by the haunting distortion George forced out of his guitar at the beginning of the epic song DJ penned. While watching George freak out on his guitar it becomes apparent that he wasn’t lying to me when on Friday he mentioned he’s listening to some very noisy bands these days. It felt like Dirty On Purpose went for it last night and it translated into a solid show. My only question is when are they going to work Spider Eyes back into live rotation?

We stuck around to hear a few songs from the Two Gallants. They sounded a bit looser than Friday, but still top notch. The lead singer has got the lonely blues man bit down like science while the drummer’s consistent hard hitting keeps their music in the garage. Noah and I ducked out after a bit of the set. We stopped over at 186 to waste the rest of the evening starring at the wall and talking to Builder.

Words From The Street.
*** Dear female Strokes fans. We are sorry to inform you that Julian has been taken off the auction block, but he has been replaced by Fab. Start your bidding.

*** For some reason I can’t believe this article especially when bands such as Razorbite due so well. The jab at American music at the end of the piece makes me wonder if they’ve heard of this label called Sub Pop. Maybe they should hold off while EMI is getting trashed.

*** Can’t we just let Suge Knight be? And, say it ain’t so Bill?

*** The newest victim of the digital age: The Hit Factory. Now where will the potential 50 Cent murders congregate?

*** If everything gets smoothed out and this documentary sees the light of day, it could be life changing.

posted by jayloose at 1:14 PM 2 comments   

The Best Stuff Is Free Stuff.
Here is some info on a couple events in the near future that won’t cost you a dime. If you’re anything like me, this comes as welcomed news. Seeing good bands and partying for free is an asset bigger than Terry Richardson’s butt fetish. First up is a great show followed by a party by yours truly. You should make it out to this one. My self esteem needs you. The second is a FREE showcase by the good lads in PS. Check them out:

Sam Champion w/ Frank Bango
Saturday, Feb 12th (8:30pm)
@ Luna Lounge (Ludlow btwn Houston & Stanton)

Loose Record presents...
Sam Champion and Frank Bango Afterparty
Saturday, Feb 12th (10:30pm-4am)
@ The Hanger Bar (217 E 3rd btwn B/C)
w/ Loose DJ's on Rabid Rotation
Drinks: $2 PBR & 8Balls; $4 PBR + Well Whiskey; $4 Wells; $3 Staton Island Ice Teas (Gross but cheap!).

Loose will be trading email addresses for PBR's & buttons throughout the night.

+++++++++++++++++++
Now, From Jeff of PS...

Hello All:

We are playing a showcase at Sin-e on Tuesday, February 15th at 7pm. the good news is that admission to this show is absolutely free - just come to the club and say you're there to see PS. There's nothing else to it. We’re doing this show for some industry people and we'd be so grateful if you'd come out and support us while we do the thing we do.

PS (FREE)
Sin-e (150 Attorney Street btwn Houston & Stanton)
Tuesday, February 15th
7pm (after work crowd unite!)

We really hope to see you there.

posted by jayloose at 3:30 PM 0 comments   

An Ache For Every Pain.
Where does the time go? Another weekend has passed, and February is in full swing. Why does it still feel like 2004? Not much has changed on my day to day, but every once and awhile I get tossed an unwanted curveball that puts me on my heels. Friday it came in the form of a trip to the DMV. Before getting to this stereotypical nightmare, let me build you up with an epic Thursday evening.

Noah stopped by 186 after a long uneventful workday. We grubbed some Tiny’s before heading to the Luna Lounge to check out the return of The Giraffes. As we entered the club we ran into Justin, Amy and Ben who were hoping to catch a glimpse of the return. Dave was handling his biz like Randall, and Noah fielded numerous questions about the fate of Sam Champion. It was a schmoozefest, (in the best sense). The Giraffes were playing an early showcase set to ease back into the gigging game. If you recall, lead singer, Gurn, was recently sidelined after a vicious heart attack, but he hadn’t missed a step. He even went to the convincing lengths of sipping from a flask throughout the first half of the show all the while looking like a villain from a western remake. The band, which is quite the specimen of carefully crafted facial hair, played a full set to an overly packed audience crammed into every available space in lounge. Their set was quite crazy in a good way. Fans of Zeppelin, Clutch and the Misfits will dig The Giraffes. Their guitar player shredded the entire set which can give it a classic rock feel along with an 8T’s glam cock style. Check the kids out as they continue to snowball until the release of their full-length on Razor and Tie.

During the second half of the set, I squeezed back to the bar area to watch on the projection screen with Sarah, Stevo, Hawkins, Ghory and Ramie. Once the set was finished a few of us skipped over to Max Fish for a quick beer before I floated back to 186 to catch the taped episode of The O.C. Here are a few notes regarding the show. Sandy needs to check himself. His ex is putting a strain on the marriage, and Kristen is a fox, so fucking that up would be disaster. Though, I don’t see them ever breaking up. They are too much like 2000’s version of the Walsh’s. The lesbian action is going to be hot hot hot. More on that once tongue kissing commences. The two week tease is getting to be a little much. A note to the writers; this comic book storyline is weaker than my last vodka tonic. Let’s get Summer and Seth sacked up so we can break up this damn comic book group. Oh, and finally, Caleb is sleazier than my Uncle, and that son-of-a-bitch is greasier than Little Italy.

Sean, Sarah and Noah stopped in for a quick beverage following my exile. Around 10pm we decided it was time to get a move on, so we hopped a cab down to Tribeca Rock Club. We lost a Sarah and gained a Beach somewhere along the road, but this didn’t help the fact that our cab driver had no idea where to go. We finally got into the club as RANA was taking the stage. I grabbed a quick beer and said hello to Pooja who was in party mode. After a quick puff tough session, I carved out a lonely spot with the hopes of concentrating on their set. One thing is for certain, RANA has the chops to keep things extremely interesting. While ponderings whether or not Ryan could breathe with the massive amounts of smoke machine exhaust engulfing him, my eyes were drawn to Scott who has the best solo faces in the business. Matt also demands your attention. On Thursday he was really going for it. Watching him play, I can’t help but think that the kid must love Michael Jackson. He’s got the touch.

After their first set, the tequila started to flow like water despite the ridiculous price of a thumbnail size shot. During changeover I managed to dig on DJ Logic skills while catching up with Tumblehawk, Lucy, Ani, Beckwith, Beach and Daylen who love their RANA rock. Their second set began more as a free form session that had DJ Logic started the engine before Ryan steered the band. It was a nice mix of rock and turntables. Usually that kind of collaboration is reserved for some kind of hardcore band that screams and shit, but tonight RANA and Logic took it to another level. As Pooja and I stood on the risers enjoying the sea of dancers, it occurred to me that I spent nearly a C-note so it was time to bail out.

Not The Worst, But It Was Close.
Friday morning I called into work because I wasn’t feeling to hot and it was time to hit the DMV to finally get a NYS drivers license. It was 9:30am when I hopped on the subway headed to Herald’s Square. The queued line didn’t seem out of control, but it took me nearly an hour to see the first step in the long process. The man behind the counter informed me that my Social Security card couldn’t be taken because it was too beat up. Naturally, I managed to stage a freak out that included phrases such as, “I took off a day of work for this bullshit,” and “Get me your manager.” After much pleading, the manager said if I went to the Social Security office and got a receipt proving I had applied for a new card, than he could hook me up.

With this in mind I hustled through midtown hastily gawking at one of the most bullshit sections of the island. Midtown has absolutely no character and the so called culture is absolute garbage. So many Middle Americans and foreign tourists waste their days walking around the technology jungle gasping at Cadillac advertisements and The Olive Garden. It’s really quite a shame. It’s the ugliest thing I’ve ever seen. Anyway, my stop at the Social Security Office took over an hour, but I hustled back to the DMV with most of the afternoon in front of me. The manager didn’t make me wait for processing, but I did have to wait an hour and a half to see the next person in the assembly line. Around 2pm my odyssey ended and I was back downtown munching with Christie at Chat ‘n Chew. We took the liberty of strolling through Union Square Park on a beautiful winter’s afternoon.

After some brief napping, I got the obligatory (as Noah called it), “My band is playing down the street and has some time to kill,” phone call. Noah and Doug (DOP) cruised through to have some Budweiser’s before we were joined by Ryan, Jack and Sean Bones. I have to ask, are artists (despite playing tons of shows) nervous before a gig because these kids just use me for my bathroom. They come by a couple hours before their show and abuse my poor toilet. This is detail enough, but I think its time to start charging a loo few unless I start getting some positive feedback. The bands took off while I did some cleaning up, and by 9pm I was off to the Mercury. Everyone came out for the big rock show, and the club was stuffed with the likes of Sarah, Maya, Jacqueline, Dahlia, Lucy, Tumble, Dana, Dave, Sarah, Mandel, Beach, Daylen, Pooja, Matt RANA, Greg, Eric Say Hi, DTL, Leah, Ethan, Ramie, Beckwith, KariBomb, Jin, the various bands and many others. The makings of a good night were in place.

Sam Champion was first on this terrific bill. The boys were not messing around with their opportunity to open for quality bands. By the end of their set, the room was filling up with interested onlookers. Their set was quite outstanding; one of their best in recent memory. Sean has stepped into his role and is now playing some tasty guitar parts. The guys looked to be having a great time which certainly helped my outlook. They also played a couple new songs one of which reminded me of a British Sea Power song and the another with a title much like Beetlebum, but the name I can’t remember. Hopefully they will be on the road soon so you folks outside of the New York area can catch the goodness.

(Note: Noah informed me the name of the song is Cheadlebug and it was penned by Sean.)

Next up was the San Francisco dirty blues duo called Two Gallants. They were fantastic! They make it easy to drawl comparisons to brethren like The Black Keys and The White Stripes, but the earnest picking and charming, screech laden howl of the lead singer make them standout in the crowd. Their drummer is lost in web of hair, but finds time to surface and throw down back up vocals. He is a spastic drummer who compliments his partner with driving beats built for their brand of San Francisco via Delta blues rock. The story lines lost in the lyrics can only make me think the best is yet to come from these kids.

Around 11pm it was time for Dirty On Purpose to take the stage. To be honest, I’ve seen them play sets better than the Friday night show. Though they were completely effective, it felt like the mix was low and the band wasn’t all on the same page. They did close with a stellar rendition of Monument which is always a delicious cherry on top. Tonight I’m returning to the Mercury with the hopes they can once again blow me off my bullshit ass. I’m mucho excited. Rogue Wave closed out the evening, and though they don’t hit me in the heartstrings, their set was just what the doctor ordered in terms of a closeout. By 1am I was proper bevvied and had my fill of rock, so it was back to the crib for a nice crash on the couch.

How Many Dudes Does It Take?
To make you wait ages for brunch? Apparently six is the answer. On Saturday I met with Stevo, BT and Chris from Chicago with the hopes of scaring our hunger away. We decided on Old Devil Moon and by the time we made it to 12th Street we were six strong with the addition of out-of-towners Dino and Nick. While waiting out front in the beautiful weather, we ran into Chris and Leclare who were on similar missions. My breakfast consisted of Sangria and biscuits with sausage gravy. It was a bold move, but the right move nonetheless. Post meal we made our way back down to Stevo’s place for a rooftop session. It was an excellent way to kill the afternoon.

Later that night, I wasn’t feeling much like going out so the party came over. Mike, Del and I got things started with a bunch of PBR and Joy Division DVD. As the night grew long, Jeff, Liz, Dee, Kyle, Dana, Stevo, Chris, BT, Christie and a couple other monkeys dropped in for beers. We wasted the night reverting to college days with games of Asshole and Kings Cup. Apparently there is a new rule in Kings Cup which is a Jinners, but I don’t know what that means. Dana tried to explain that it read something else, but I like the idea that no matter where or when, if you pull a 7 card, Jin has to drink. As the sun came up, I realized bed time was the only cure for a long night of hanging.

Super Bowl Funday.
(Left: Pic Via Stereogum) Sorry about that title. It seemed appropriate. At 11:30am Mohawk called to remind me about our gameday brunch plans. It took me a minute, but by noon I was at his place hanging out with him, Lucy and Eileen. After a quick rip, we stepped across the street and Danny had us set up for a table at 9th Street Market. Tumblehawk has some sort of strange relationship with the owner of the joint so we got class A treatment. Though we were hurting as a group (physically), we managed to power through some massive plates of food. After the brunch, I hit up the grocery store to get things in order for the Super Bowl party.

The rest of my day was spent at the house watching pregame and prepping food, (minus a trip to the beloved Duane Reed). Around 4pm Chris and Stevo came by so Chris could start making a pot of chili that simply killed. As he worked on the pot with Stevo, I whipped up a big batch of guacamole along with a plate of chopped up veggies. Once game time grew close, a bunch of kids (and tons of beer) showed up. We managed to stuff Dana, Jordan, Lucy, Tumblehawk, Matt G, Jigga, Liz, Christie, Erin and Dan into the living room. Additions to the menu came in the form of some spectacular honey lime wings from Jigga, Rice Krispie treats from Tumble and Lucy and Onion dip a la Dana. The game was almost as kick ass as the company, and though Beach is somewhere heartbroken, I’m happy to see the Patriots win so Charlie Weiss can make the switch to Notre Dame as a winner. The halftime show wasn't nearly as scandelous as last year, but Paul McCartney did bring the rock especially when he played Live and Let Die. Holy Fireworks! The night wound down quickly after the game, and as everyone lugged their food comas out of 186, I happily slipped off the deep end.

Go Jets. Only 12 months until their next Super Bowl.

posted by jayloose at 2:28 PM 0 comments   

Consider Yourself Forewarned: Hot Shit.

Before jumping into the weekend update, here is a quick post regarding tickets for The Bowery Ballroom. If you are looking to avoid another Futureheads mishap (the show sold out very quickly), you should purchase your Bloc Party w/ The Ponys tickets today. Friday night is already sold out on line and the other is going quickly. The same goes for the Fiery Furnaces. The tickets are selling like crazy so you best get your credit card ready. Additionally, Doves and Hot Hot Heat w/ Louis XIV has sold out. If you’re lucky there might be a few tickets still at the box office, so give a call.

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Don’t Be Scared. They Got Your Back.
Its strange how doing nothing has left me more exhausted than a night out at the club. My evening consisted of coming home from work, reading this week’s Village Voice and cooking some vegetarian friendly dinner with Mr. Meatball. In the back of my mind was a trip to The Hanger followed by a stop into the Luna Lounge, but my body only carried me as far as Natalka’s establishment on 3rd Street. The Hanger Bar will be the site of our first Loose Record Party next Saturday at 11pm. Full details will come soon, but expect cheap drinks, some free PBR’s and a ton of robot dancing by Michael. After our quick meeting, I returned home to gawk at Captain Freedom while he preached to the choir about spreading Democracy to those who love our freedom. Doesn’t anyone else think this agenda pushing motherfucker is creepy as hell? I know the answer is yes so consider it a rhetorical question.

Wouldn’t we be better off with someone like Jack Burton running the show? If we need someone who is going to spread freedom and democracy across the land while weeding out the terrorist (read: Arab genocide), shouldn’t it be someone with a little ass kicking experience? Seriously, just replace that Budda or whatever the shit it is with a giant American flag and you get 2008’s number one republican candidate. Bruce (Mom’s significant other) has often said you can’t win the presidency unless you’re a cowboy. He said the southerners won’t trust a Yankee liberal, and despite Bruce’s shortcomings;

(i.e. His comment that a black quarterback will never win the Super Bowl. Upon the mentioning of Doug Williams he says it was a fluke. Let me say he isn’t a racist, but I am highly embarrassed when these comments are made. His best friend is African American. You just have to realize that were I’m from, bad racial humor isn’t frowned upon).



I think the old wise man may have a point especially in our current epoch. If the Democrats don’t put a John Wayne (or better yet, Jack Burton) type candidate on the block in 2008, we will surely lose to something like a McCain / Giuliani ticket. Yes, I know what you’re thinking; the Republican’s wouldn’t put a centrist like McCain on the ticket, but give the idea a hot second. You have Mr. Giuliani, who despite his infidelity is a golden boy in the eyes of many American’s because he happened to be the mayor when terrorists decided to attack our city. Couple him with a war hero, who appeals to right of the dial democrats and you’ll get election results not nearly as close as the last two, (including the election Bush stole). Ok, so I guess we’re fucked. Hopefully Tumblehawk will be around tonight so I can get Dashboard on his blue blooded ass.

Jack Burton / John McClane in 2008! A simply unbeatable ticket if they run with a campaign slogan such as, "We take what we want and leave the rest, just like your salad bar". Queue the Skynyrd and take your stroll into the Oval Office.

In hilarious news, Serkan (our database guru) was at the Arcade Fire show last night. He also got a shout out on Central Village.

Words From The Street.
*** Aaron, not Adam, Mandel reports that Interpol and Bright Eyes will be the big names on a two disc tsunami relief release by Filter Magazine. The record will also feature Franz Ferdinand, Hot Hot Heat, The Go! Team, The Futureheads and Wilco. Go purchase this on February 28th. It’s not a bad way to pitch in a small amount for a good cause.

*** Pete’s life just keeps getting better. First it’s the crack. Then it’s the dumping via text message by Ms. Moss. Now he’s been arrested for kickin and nickin.

*** And the winner for cheesiest headline ever written: Houston We Have A Definite Problem. This is fucking insane.

*** Fucking Austrians. Why would you blackball a band (let alone punk funny men The Vandals) from your club for trying to bring a little fun to the troops in Iraq. Though I don’t agree with the war, I wouldn’t call our troops murders and idiots. Those comments should be reserved for the administration.

*** In more hip hop news; program your TiVo for February 13, 2005 at 8pm on Fox. This is when 50 Cent’s much hyped appearance on The Simpsons will air. Additionally, if you like asses and asses that shake alot, check out 50 Cent's new video (Quicktime) for Disco Inferno. It's delicious, (thanks DP).

*** I can’t believe this band is putting out their debut (is it their first?) on Universal. There has been zero time for maturity. I’m all for striking while the iron’s hot, but what happens when you dilute the pool to the point of pop? This could get ugly. In the mean time, buy your Kaiser Chiefs tickets at the Mercury Lounge (with Clap Your Hands and Say Yeah!) before it gets moved to Madison Square Garden. Note to Jackass Lovers: The show is on Valentines Day so if your significant other doesn't like rock, don't buy tickets. I on the other hand am officially open for date suggestions.

*** Joining the ranks of the reissues is The Kinks. Check out the pro’s and con’s of each release. Thanks for the help Prefix.

*** Alex Kapranos adds a whole lot of sexy to politics. It’s to bad Tony Blair wasn’t of the Elton John persuasion, otherwise Alex would get exactly what he wants.

*** In a move that proves he has stones bigger than Builder’s, Mr. Publisher, Felix Dennis, has Mick Jagger warm up the crowd for him.

*** So long Analog. We’ll miss you.

*** Ikara Colt put out a record everyone who loves aggressive rock should hear. It was a shame when they decided it was time to roam. Now there are news that new bands are forming in the wake. I highly recommend you checking out their record if you like At the Drive In or Trail of Dead.

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posted by jayloose at 1:14 PM 12 comments   

Nobody’s Cold. Nobody’s Warm.

Last night was top of the pops. With the prospect of crazy show on the horizon, I got back to my apartment and tried to relax. The only problem being that Home Improvement is the only show on at 5:30pm when all you rock is basic cable. It’s nearly impossible to lose your thoughts in the presence of the Tool Man so my relaxation period was not successful. Around 7pm I geared up for work at Webster and headed to the club. Gigs set me up at the front door to take care of the guest lists with the help of Anna, Gigs and Sarah who hung about during portions of the show. The shift went a lot smoother than expected and nearly everyone who came to the table got in the club. The show was running late because Arcade Fire and Final Fantasy didn’t get their gear to the club before 7:30pm due to an appearance on Conan O’Brien. The lineup got tossed around and Man Man took the duty of playing first. After hearing them from the first floor, I realized their record should get a little more attention from my stereo.

Following Man Man the bands did a bit of quick checking and eventually Final Fantasy took the stage. With nearly everyone in, my shift ended in time to get upstairs before The Arcade Fire took the stage. From the back of the room I text’d Dana and we cruised upstairs to grab a drink. The balcony was packed so we decided to join Gigs and Mia at the front of the room. We ran into Greg and Adam who were both hanging around the sound booth with Mark. There is a great spot in that club where you can get close without having to fight the sweaty masses, but on the flipside the sound isn’t 100% due to the positioning of the speakers.

As the six-piece (eight-piece live), Montreal based band took the stage, I couldn’t help but get excited. They truly looked more circus freak than indie rock. Dressed in garb that made them more 1920 than 2005, these imposing figures made me simle. There is the Napoleon Dynamite look alike that bounces around like a possessed soldier of rock banging on anything close to his sticks when he isn’t hammering on a bass. There is talented Regine who wears funny red knee highs and does cute yet obnoxious hand motions when singing lead. They had two violinists, (one of which I shared a brief moment with and need to ask for her hand in marriage). Leading this group of loveable misfits is lead singer and guitarist, Win, who is an imposing Lurch like figure who takes center stage throughout the course of the show. Couple these characters with the level of excitement expressed by all those on stage, and you have one solid rock show.

While Win opened the set with a bad joke about a dream where you wake up in your underwear made me think these guys deserve every second of their fame. In the matter of a year, they’ve gone from CMJ shows at the Mercury to a sold out Bowery show (with David Bowie and Byrne in attendance) to selling out Webster Hall and Irving Plaza on back to back evenings. A quick assent to the top hasn’t stopped these kids from flashing a bit of nervousness over the 1600 sets of eyes starring with great anticipation.

The Arcade Fire opened their set with the epic track Wake Up which I recently discovered is a favorite of our new Loose(r) Serkan. He’ll see it tonight and go ape shit. The passion these kids exude while forcing the harmonies out of their depths is awe inspiring. Dana took a second to point out Mr. Bowie nodding in approval from his perch in the balcony. As the band pushed through the next few songs including Neighborhood #2 (Laika) my eyes were transfixed on Tim Kingsbury (aka Napoleon’s little brother). They ripped into the energetic track when all of a sudden Kingsbury and Richard Parry adorned themselves in motorbike helmets and went completely nuts. The Arcade Fire is one of those bands who force audiences to have fun. Though the crowd seemed awfully quiet, I don’t think it was due to amazement more than any sort of disapproval.

After a couple more songs and a beer, Dana and I made our way to the back of the room were we met up with Beach, Daylen, Lucy and the extremely excited Tumblehawk. From this vantage point we were farther from the band, but the sound was 10 times better. There was also some amazing light work that was better viewed from the back. The backdrop was Webster's patented star wall, and it couldn’t have been more appropriate. They were off in their own little universe, protected by the metaphorical barrier between the artist and the onlooker. We bobbed and hop scotched around the crowded space while they closed out with Rebellion (Lies) and Neighborhood #3 (Power Out), (someone correct me if my ordering is off).

The set was phenomenal, but there were a few jams that still needed to be played. They were quickly coaxed back onstage for an encore consisting of the first jame off of their Merge debut, Neighborhood #1 (Tunnel), followed by the last jam on the same record, In the Backseat. Both songs were done masterfully. They ended their set with big thanks, but were once again lured back to the stage for a second encore. Win came right to the microphone and said, “We need to go home and learn more song.” He told another terrible joke about the band regarding a fire in the building, but thankfully this was overshadowed by another dusty nugget. This time they played Headlights Look Like Diamonds which is a track I’d never heard before, but one that was equally up to the task. It began with a Broken Social Scene style intro and then broke down into a southern barnyard boogie lead by the great duo pumping out the twang on their violins. As the song faded away, the band began marching off stage led by a beat Kingsbury was pounding out on a floor tom he lugged off stage.

The whole room was smiles. Goodbye hugs were shared before Dana and I took a cab back to our neighborhood. We got dropped off between apartments, and I strolled back to 186 just in time to catch the band on Conan. If Win was telling the truth at the show, The Arcade Fire was filling in for Maroon 5 who recently canceled, (thank Christ). They played Neighborhood #2 (Laika) and showed the same fever as they did at Webster. Believe the hype boys and girls. The Arcade Fire is outstanding. Deal with it.

Words From The Street.
*** In case your Wednesday evening doesn’t have too much party on the agenda, watch the State of the Union address by Captain Freedom at 9pm. If you aren’t hugging the toilet while he splashes his fear/democracy/religious rhetoric all over us, try playing this game. I don’t know what’s worse... The president’s speech or this clip, (NSFW; Don't watch if you have a stomach ache; Mom! Do not watch this clip!). Thanks to Sean and Billy.

*** In a shocking development, Dick Cheney recently nominated George Bush for this office if the current place holder kicks the bucket soon.

*** Thanks Jim. Thanks for keeping us informed as you once again cover bullshit music that doesn’t need press. Have you ever heard of taking a chance? Fuckin eh. Rock is dead? Get a fucking life.

*** What’s worse: A crack habit or a cracked out wife? Pete decides he’d like to live with both.

*** James, you broke my heart. I was hoping to shake your hand last night, but you didn’t show up. At least somebody loves you.

*** Tony Wilson doesn’t know when to say when. He is resurrecting Factory Records in the form of F4. Wilson’s roster consists of two artists who I’m sure you’ll be hearing about in the near future. Move over Mr. Murphy. The king hasn’t stepped down yet.

*** Duffman is feeling cheated. Oh yeah!

*** MTV is considered a ‘smut peddler'. It’s funny how it took this group until 2005 to realize this fact. I don’t hear them going after Desperate Housewives which features some of the best sexy sexy I’ve seen in awhile.

*** Mr. Malkmus has a big year in front of him. His third post-Pavement full-length is due in May and his wife is set to give birth in the near future.

*** Bloc Party is scheduled to hit our shores at the end of the month. With four chances to see them in NYC, you best not miss this tour. My only question is; what’s the deal with the ‘Happy Endings’ gig?

*** The Bravery must be doing something right. They recently scored an opening slot on the upcoming Ash tour. No New York dates; what the fuck is up with that?

*** I fucking hate everything you do. Hugs! Love from Jay.

posted by jayloose at 11:28 AM 7 comments   

Helpless Guitar Romantic.
If you are a long time reader of Good Times Roll, you might remember me prattling on about the Portland based punk band The Exploding Hearts. They made an amazing record back in 2002 that made tons of Top 10 lists because of its power pop rhythms and its punk as fuck attitude. It was genius. In 2003, tragedy struck the band on a ride back home from San Francisco. A van accident left the band with one surviving member, and an unfairly shortened legacy. While checking the Luna Lounge’s schedule for February, I was surprised to see The Exploding Hearts playing a gig on February 8th. I did some searching to see if the lone survivor reformed the band under the same name. After concluding this wasn’t the case, I put it to rest and forgot about it.

No more than a half hour later, I received an email from Adam Ghory about his show on February 8th at the Luna Lounge. Guess who appropriated The Exploding Hearts namesake for his own? Adam, I’d think about changing the name. It could become a problem. At any rate, check out his show next week:

-----------------------------------------
THE EXPLODING HEARTS
@ LUNA LOUNGE
9:30 pm -- next tuesday Feb. 8
FREE Admission, 21+
(171 Ludlow, just below Houston)
-----------------------------------------

posted by jayloose at 1:07 PM 5 comments   

Hot With Some Extra Hot In Hot Sauce.
This was written on Monday before shit hit the fan at my office…

At this moment in time, there is a demon in my stomach forcing me to slouch in serious pain. If this is a fraction of the discomfort a woman endures once a month, then I have to hand it to that resilient sex. They are tougher than a box of coffin nails. My stomach aches are due to a voluntary mistake made by Steve and I while ordering dinner last night. Let me make this clear; unless you are daring, do not order the Hot Wings from Nice Guy Eddies. They will force you to sit up at night testing your will to live. In addition to this blunder, we also split a blackened chicken sandwich. I’m filling out the paper work to change my middle name to Pepto.

Reunion Tour 2005.
The past few nights have felt like a giant reunion of all my friends from college. It started on Thursday when Sarah, Sean, Noah and I gathered at 186 to watch The O.C. First of all, I don’t quite know what to think about the constant barrage of indie music featured on the program. Last week we heard Interpol at three different points on the show along with Elliot Smith and what I thought was the Black Keys. Like I said, this all has me a bit flustered, but it’s better than hearing garbage filling the audio space on the show. If it helps sell records and gain exposure, more power to the artists. A nod should also be given to the music director of the program. It sure beats the shit out of hearing Six Pence None the Richer croon while Dawson tries to stop himself from wanking all over Joey.

Around 10pm we made our way to Eleven for Audrey’s Thursday night party called Atomique. We got there a bit early because they were still setting up, but we took a booth and listened to the new Trail of Dead record. After some technical difficulties got kinked out, Audrey took over for a bit before passing me the reigns. Scroll below if you are interested in reading some of the songs I selected. It felt like a really fun set, and all the positive feedback from my friends in club kept me confident. Again, a big thank you goes out to all of you who braved the nasty weather to come hang out and smoke cigarettes. Everyone seemed to have a great time, and truth be told, that’s the only thing that matter.

After a couple hours of bouncing around the booth, I closed my set off with some hip hop and The Faint. Dennis stepped up and took over as my time came to an end. He kept the kids around with a great set before Audrey took over and spun the rest of the evening. By 2am I had enough. No more dancing like a robot with Mike. No more indecent comments to a lesbian about her butt. No more desperate attempts to hit on a young friend’s friend. The night was over. And I hustled home in great fear of getting jumped and losing my crate of tunes.

Nervous? No. Unsettling? Maybe.
With my boss out of the office, Friday became a bit of a shitstorm. Thankfully my co-work Lauren and I went out for quesadillas and margaritas at lunch. It took the edge off, but wasn’t nearly the boost necessary for making the afternoon disappear. I forgot to say thanks to Justin for stopping down to my office on Thursday to drop off some burns and shoot the shit. A big happy birthday goes out to him. Sorry about missing your party this weekend. Anyway, after work, I cruised home with the hope of taking a nap and getting up in time to check out the art show. Unfortunately, my nap ran long and I didn’t get up until 11pm. Dan had shown up with a few PBR’s that we nursed until it was time to head to the Luna.

As we approached the club it became apparent that all the old all-stars came out for The Stammers final gig at the Luna Lounge. It’s too bad that place is going out of business. Besides their dickhead soundman that has a bit of a temper, that club was a gem on the Lower East Side. Cruise by the club to catch your last few glimpses of free rock in that part of town. The Stammers sounded great. They are playing with the new addition of Alec on bass. He brings a new dimension of good times to the band. The Stammers aren’t the liveliest stage act, but on Friday they kicked (no pun intended) that stereotype to the curb. The entire band rocked out on Friday which pleased the packed room of familiar faces.

Now it’s Tuesday and I’m going to finish this entry…

After the show the crowd was milling about out front trying to make the choice of what bar would house the after party. Not being one to like this type of back and forth, I ducked out and over to the Mercury Lounge to have a couple drinks with Beach, Gigs and Liz. As we sipped on vodka tonics, Erin called to let me know The Hanger was the lucky winner in the search for further libations. When I arrived the place was already packed. The must have been a neighborhood skate crew in the bar because the kids looked hip, but not Dark Room hip. Skater kids have a style that kicks the shit out of the rock kids. Its science. The night grew long as Stevo and I pounded tequila shots until it was 4am and time to go home. A quick note to Dunkin Donuts; please stock more bagels for the 4am shift. You broke our hearts.

C’mon Girls, Let’s Shop.
Saturday was fucking rad even though I woke up earlier than expected. Around 1pm Builder and I set off on a day of commerce that began with brunch at Colonial Café on Houston and something St. That establishment could kick a lot more ass if they took out one table to make it less cramped. Their servers have to weigh less than 110lbs if they are going to make it through the maze of dinners. We finished up our salmon dishes and cruised over to EMS where I finally purchased a pair of boots. Though I’m not completely comfortable wearing them, they will come in handy on could nights at work. We stopped into the Apple Store to say hello to Michael before walking back to Etherea to say hello to the other Mike. Builder was upset they didn’t have all the Apex Twin that was promised, but he pressed on.

A bottle of wine later and I was beached on the couch for the duration of the afternoon watching the first season DVD of Arrested Development. It was fabulous. You need to get into this show because its amazing. I scored a solid two hour nap before waking up to Builder and Chernin’s appearance in 186. At 8pm Builder and I headed to Christina’s house for a Loose Record dinner and meeting. The crew downed some delicious Chinese food while discussing the fate of the company. Everything was hammered out and we were ready to invite our fifth wheel or first employee depending on how you look at things.

We left Christina’s 40 flight walk-up before 10pm so we could be at Bside in time for the surprise. We were the first kids through the door, so we scored drinks and slid to the back of the bar. As the crew trickled in and we pseudo surprised Jordan, it became apparent that for the third night in a row, I was partying with a large portion of my college friends. These nights came with mixed feelings, but nothing on the negative. I couldn’t tell whether to be nostalgic or simply rowdy. We managed to carve out a happy medium. As the night grew late, Beach claims I got surely, so it was a good thing Dana and I split a cab back to the neighborhood. A big Happy Birthday goes out to Jordan who finally turned 18 this weekend. Was it 18 or 29? Fuck, I can’t remember.

I’m Awesome At Nothing.
Sunday started with another meeting at Christina’s to welcome the recent addition of Loose Record. We scored ourselves a programmer who is going to help make our site something totally worth a good mind-fuck. We are psyched to have the new guy on board, and don’t worry, you’ll get a chance to meet him soon. We worked for a few hours before breaking down into a hangout. Then Josh, Mike and I went to some joint on Saint Marks for delicious half price sushi. After lupper (or linner), I returned to 186 for the rest of the evening. Stevo joined me for some much deserved couch time. We had a relaxing evening until the wings that were mentioned earlier made their way into our bellies. Then it was demon battling time.

Never Throw In The Towel.
Last night was a bit of a downer. Everyone seemed to be in a mood after what sounded like a terrible Monday for most. Christina came over to talk web work for awhile before we ordered Tiny’s and watched some show where they bust up a house and pimp it out. Christina couldn’t stop gushing about the host Ty. I do an awesome Ty impression. Later that evening I met Sean Bones, Builds and Beach at 2A for a number of cocktails. As we discussed this week’s plans, bloggers and the Superbowl, it occurred to me that a scaled down hang is much more my style, (even though I was being quite a bastard). It was a much needed ending to a crazy day at work.

Words From The Street.
*** All hail British Sea Power. The fantastic English band will release their second full-length record on March 21st with touring to follow. If you don’t see them at Coachella (or if you do), make sure you keep an eye on Ticketweb for their May 13th appearance at the Bowery Ballroom. Their last Bowery show blew me away. *CORRECTION* The album will be released April 4th, (Thanks Tumblehawk).

*** We all knew Beck is a crazy bastard, but this proves it’s motivated by cult like following, and I don’t mean his fans, (via ProductshopNYC).

*** According to an email and the club’s office website, it looks like Tonic might follow the most recent trend in rock venues; closing. How is this happening? Tonic is such a reputable source for underground sonic invention. Get your ass to the club this month to show some love. Here are a few suggestions:

- February 6th: Metallic Falcons w/Winter Pageant and The Dirty Projectors
- February 9th: Langhorne Slim w/Kimya Dawson and The Trachtenberg Family
- February 11th: Parts and Labor
- February 24th: Ben Lee (I didn’t know he covered Float On)

*** Pour Johnny. Maybe if he stopped howling like a jack his voice might hold up. Universal can’t be happy with this since the road is the only place they’ll make money.

*** There are rumors about Trail of Dead and Dungen may be teaming up for what would be the best spring tour ever. And The Go! Team will be stopping by the Mercury Lounge before heading to Texas for SXSW. This will be spectacular.

*** If you missed out on scoring tickets to the Webster Hall or Irving Plaza shows, this might be the closet you’re going to get to seeing The Arcade Fire live this week.

*** Don’t expect this kind of charity to last. Pete Libertine does a little good for once. Now if he could stop smoking crack, maybe he could get on track.

*** Interpol won’t be calling it quits after their tour with Blonde Redhead. The NYC golden boys are playing a handful of dates with Q and Not U before taking a break from the road. Anyone up for a trip to The Falls?

posted by jayloose at 11:06 AM 2 comments