Does that make crazy? Don't forget to pickup your Webster Hall tickets ASAP as this shit is sure to sellout.

Speaking of holy hip-hop - I'm not talking about the inspirational label - check out The Streets daily feature on Music For Robots celebrating a new jam from Mike Skinner's third album The Hardest Way To Make An Easy Living. Sure, we're already on day three, but you won't want to miss this.

First of all let me send a huge thanks to everyone who stopped in to Fontana's on Friday for what was one of the best birthday parties this country boy has ever experienced. The bar treated us so well. End of the World, The Big Sleep and Sam Champion did phenominal jobs. Seriously - check out all of these bands because they continue to impress a guy who continues to hate more and more music everyday. Ok, that was a bit jaded and over the top (think Sly Stallone, backwards hat style), but all three artists were downright fantastic.

Speaking of seeing them, get your ass down to The Bowery Ballroom tonight for a killer show that features our special guests - Sam Champion - sandwiched between two up-and-comers well worth your time and dime. Cold War Kids kick things off with Two Gallants bringing up the rear. They are both stellar bands, but don't be late because this show is sure to sellout.

Today could not get any better. I got tickets to Guns'n'Roses at Hammerstein. I got tickets to the Julia Roberts-Paul Rudd play (i know it got pretty bad reviews, but fuck it, i want to see it). I'm going to the Yankee game tonight before attending the shitshow that will be fontana's. And then I find this on espn.com today.

I hate Bill Simmons, but I read everything he writes. I hate that I read everything he writes. This might not make sense, but I'm having too good of a day to care. Regardless, a fucking Pearl Jam NBA playoffs preview? Epic.

Bothe, you know you love it.

Wow, I can't remember the last time my eyes felt so heavy. This shit is totally ridiculous. The day job is really wearing on me this week, but there is that bright shining light at the end of this dark, sleepless tunnel. By now I hope the Friday Night Shit Show is already on your radar, and if it isn't it fucking should be. Check out the Loose Events page for all the info. I don't want to let the pass few days go unnoticed so let me start from last Friday.

Well, actually, I need to get work done on this site. You don't want to hear how awesome Clap Your Hands Say Yeah was, do you? Nah, you probably already read about that show, but did you hear how over the top Alec's voice was - cause it was. Do you want to know that The Comas completely blew me away and that Longwave is a band you shouldn't give up on? Nah, my opinion doesn't mean much - at least not here. Ok, so I'm being a negative nelly (props to Eric on that one), but right now I can't dive into anything critcal. I'll get lost. What you should know is this - break dancing bunny's are amazing, but taking a banana to the banana is not. Also, don't drink any sort of flaming drink with Dan - his skin is made of retardant. Seriously, wear a cup (or a mini-skirt) and meet me at Fontana's this Friday.

Do me this favor. The bands will be amazing, and hopefully we can get this blog back up to snuff in the coming weeks. Right now I'm pulling 10 to 11 hour days without a moment to breath - let alone fill you in on my nonexistent social life. Help bring back the good old days.

Bruce Springsteen is playing 4 rehearsal shows with a 17 piece band before his new Pete Seeger album comes out and he tours nationally. The shows begin thursday the 20th at the Asbury Park Convention Hall, a venue that seats only 3600 people. Tickets are still available and are going for $60-100.

Holy shit! Springsteen with a 17-piece band playing blues, folk, and gospel songs. With tickets available. If someone knows about a catch to all this, please fill me in. You can get tix here.

This is just a note to let you know The National show that was scheduled for May 21st at the Bowery Ballroom has moved to Webster Hall due to overwhelming demand. The show was sold out, but now there are tickets available and at only $17 its a steal. In related news, head to the home page to see a National live review that dropped today.

Big thanks go out to Xtina for hooking up this flyer!

Monday night at The Annex join us to celebrate the release of Elefant's new album The Black Magic Show. The evening will include a midnight performance by Elefant and DJ sets by Jason Baron, Aurelio Valle and b23.


The Annex
152 Orchard Street
Lower East Side
Doors 10pm

What the hell happened? Last night I went to meet a business associate for dinner (read: King Jackass III) after a few drinks with some coworkers down at Bowery Bar. We decided on tacos since the see had already been planted with thoughts of Mary Ann's. It took us five tries before the old stalwart seated us. Is the Lower East Side (a.k.a. East Village) getting too crowded? By the looks of it - yes.

Stop 1 :: Mercadito (30-40 minute wait)
Stop 2 :: Esperanto (30-40 minute wait)
Stop 3 :: Cafecito (25-30 minute wait)
Stop 4 :: Yuca Bar (20-25 minute wait)
Stop 5 :: El Nueva (Sat right down)

Even the line for San Loco was nearly down to Essex Street. What's happening to the neighborhood? Hopefully it was just a collective case of spring fever. We managed to squeeze in a bit of business if the definition of business is Fantasy Baseball.

Earlier this week New York was overtaken by a pack of wolves. It was like that Jake Gyllenhaal movie The Day After Yesterday where NYC is covered in ice due to some blizzard and subsequently all the wolves in the city get a bloodlust for human flesh. It's only a matter of time before that shit really happens. Anyway, the first half of my week was spent rocking with Wolf Parade at Webster Hall, but they weren't the only foreign wolves on our home turf. On Tuesday, despite Beth Orton's cunning attempts to thwart me, I managed to see four songs by my second favorite Aussie trio - Wolfmother, (if you guess my favorite Aussie three-piece in the comments I'll mail you some crappy records you can sell on Ebay). Four songs weren't nearly enough, but thank god (or more importantly - Gigs) I got to drink even a sip of their frothy goodness. Wolfmother had the crowd going all sorts of bananas. We're talking the type of exotic bananas even Gwen Stefani couldn't find in her quest for the world's finest banana. As I watched their second to last song, I spotted the Goon twins in the middle of the crowd so I stashed my bag and hustled into the mayhem. We rocked out to the closer "Minds Eye" before kicking and screaming until they returned for a two song encore. After a brief photo session with my better half, I hit the street and returned home.

Make sure you snatch up your tickets to Wolfmother's June 3rd show at Webster Hall. They will sell out, (if you people are smart). They are playing with Psychic Ills who sounded great last time they played Webster.

Last night proved to be less eventful, but I did manage to sneak in some drinks with Mr. Bones over at my favorite Cuban joint - Cafecito. My dinner of sliders and tostones was unreal and a bit heavy so after an espresso I returned home to catch up on some work thus missing what I can only imagine was a killer Big Sleep set.

Before I go, there is one long forgotten wolf band that should be brought to your attention. No, I'm not talking about Wolf Eyes or AIDS Wolf; I'm talking about the Swedish metal band Wolfbrigade. Their final record, "A D-Beat Odyssey" will beat your face. The LP is sitting on my desk and I nearly piss my pants in fear every time I see it. Check it out and believe in Judas - the original Catholic version.

Happy Passover!

Also, on another note, aren't you guys sick of bloggers? Seriously, what a bunch of douchebags (minus a few friends of mine). I'm thinking about starting internet turf wars - like The Warriors online. There are a few folks I'd want in my corner, but I know who we could take down. Let's roll. I'm fucking over it.

Wolf Parade blew me away sunday night at Webster Hall. I had missed them last time through the city and was poised for them to destroy. Having spent the entire day in my backyard drinking beer and laughing and reading, followed by watching the last half of Rudy and one of the final West Wing episodes, i was inspired, drunk and excited. I saw jay as I walked in the club and as I wrestled with him, i realized i might have been a little too drunk.

No fear, the show was amazing. Webster was packed to the gills but I don't think there was anyone who had a bad time. I've said it before, but I have thoroughly enjoyed every show I've ever seen there, and the only time I've ever had a single problem with the venue was when it was 296 degrees inside during the first Bloc Party show last year. After the show I was barely able to form sentences. Said goodbye to birthday george and began the walk home. I say began, because the help of a cab was needed to bring me the last 4 blocks. I'll tell you what, it was a tough way to start the workweek, but well worth it.

"Hey Frank...My Son's Going to Notre Dame!!! My Son's Going to Notre Dame!!!" -Rudy's dad

"You're five foot nothin, hundred and nothin..." - Roc

You don't come round here no more. Yes, that is a Petty paraphrase, but for some reason it just fit. Maybe I'm delirious or sleep deprived, but lately the songs playing in my head have taken to making their own lyrics. This whole situation has made me grumpy and irritable, so if I say something like "Hate Fuck" to you - don't take it to heart because maybe, just maybe I'll do something super sweet for you. Anyway, throughout the blur of the last few days, I've seen a number of bands so I'm going to give you my initial reactions since this is all I have time for.

Neko Case :: She has a unbelievable voice, but I could really give a shit. There was some hilarious stage banter about Chip n' Dale dancers which kept me interested. Does that make me gay?

The Raconteurs :: This came out of left field. Noah and I shot up to Irving after slugging a couple drinks at Neko's show. We were swept right in and rocked out to the new styling for a good six or eight songs. My first impression was they were sloppy. Now it was somewhat endearing, but we all know the production Jack White and Brendan Benson are capable of kicking. By the end Jack took command of the stage and watching the heads in the crowd swivel as he darted across the stage was hilarious. He was the obvious focus of attention, but dammit his guitar could have been louder.

The Teeth :: This Philly four-piece (ironically) contains a set of twin brothers who look a lot like Matty G. Their sound is best described as "fun". Their show is better suited for a midnight slot rather than a 9pm on a Saturday, but they managed to bang it out with spazzy intensity. If they catch the right ears The Teeth could hit the next level, but I don't know how long the Wolf Parade meets World Inferno with a dash of 3rd Wave Ska minus the horns can last.

Lake Trout :: The last time they played the Mercury Lounge the fire department showed up. Thankfully they left their pyro equipment at home on this trip to the Bowery. They headlined an evening that included Shelby, Army of Me and The Harlem Shakes. For me, the night was more about the booze than anything else, but Lake Trout was a nice little cherry on top of the evening. I first heard this band during my junior year of high school when they had the unfortunate hang up of being a jam band. They've completely shed that sound, but that doesn't stop dirty hippies from dancing around like assholes at their live shows.

Holy Fuck :: I love you but you've chosen remixes. This band has a few jams that get me so worked up, but they delivered alternate versions. You can't fault a band for this, but you can fault them for not bringing it as heavy as they do on the record. It came off as a bit repetitive, which I can dig, but dammit - I wanted to hear my jams! Beans popped onstage for a song or two which added a nice layer to their show, but I'm definitely a fan of just the band especially with the new bass player.

Wolf Parade:: This five piece is completely undeniable. Until Sunday I'd always been a bit under whelmed by their live performance. This feeling has been wiped off the cutting board and into Rachel Ray's garbage bowl. They fucking destroyed. I was lucky enough to catch the latter half of both Webster shows, and after those sets it's easy to see why both shows sold out. Now I have to agree with Jeff's comments regarding Dante. That dude reminds me of the rhythm guitarist for Art Brut. Dante - do something and don't look so fucking uninterested when you're doing it! Last night they kicked out "Disco Sheets" which had me hand clapping from the balcony while both nights included all the hits from Apologies along with an encore, jammed out, extended version of "Dinner Bells". This band is totally legit - now I know why Dana's jeans are all steamy after their gigs.

Voxtrot :: In total I only saw four songs, but they were fantastic. Apparently they hit a sound snag or two last night, but you couldn't tell. Those kids are going to be absolutely huge. They write amazing songs and have the earnest, heartfelt personality of superstars like The Shins. Keep it together Voxtrot. See you at Webster Hall.

To any and all of you headed to Webster Hall tonight - get there early because the lineup is outstanding. With the original openers (who I keep calling Barenaked Ladies) getting turned down at the boarder, there was a little reshuffling. Here is tonight's set times:

10:30 :: Wolf Parade
09:30 :: French Kicks
(last minute addition)
08:30 :: Holy Fuck
(joined by Beans last night)

If you don't have a ticket the rule of thumb usually is go early. Doors are at 7:30pm and word on the street is they realeased 10 tickets at this time last night. If you are itching, (and you should be - Wolf Parade killed last night) get there early for a shot to see the show. Now I'm not making that promise, but that's your best bet for this sold out gig.

The Stills were awesome last night. Really. I am a huge fan of their first album, and their classics like Lola, Changes and Still in Love are truly epic, but their new sound rips. They broughtouta fucking horn section. Jay left as the band hit their peak, but i think them leavingtheir mope rock behind, pumping up the keys and vocals, and just having fun completely improves their sound. I saw them a couple years ago at irving and i have to say their mercury set last night blew it away. Maybe more bands should take a ton of time between albums and just let their sound mature.

Also saw Art Brut at Bowery on Tuesday. I can't say enough about them. Their live show is unstoppable. BY the end of their set I was hugging the monitor onstage and had nearly torn my labrum from pumping my fist so hard. They just announced two shows at knitting factory and tickets are still available for their southpaw show next week. If you dont see them i will have mustachio date your sister. Trust me, that is a fate no one wants.

In an unrelated note, i have a picked up a new bad habit of breaking wine glasses in my hands. This is probably due to my friendship with death pirate wallace, but it is undeniably fun.

Lunch at the burger joint today. Couldn't be happier.

Also would like to welcom my new roommate, GAYger, back to NYC. He loves dildos and mustachio, so avoid him like the plague.

and pearl jam just announced the second leg of their massive, world conquering tour. Fuck you bothe.

Well Monday provided an interesting start to my week as a drunk AND as brewers fan. Yes that's right, Monday was the home opener for the Milwaukee Brewers who are currently atop the heap in first. That's right, bitches. First place. And it's a good thing they won because if the Brew Crew would've lost the opener they couldn't sell beer for the rest of the season. Get it? Lose the opener? Waa Waaa. But it seriously was a hoot: a team named after beer, in a stadium named after beer, with 30,000 some fans who each have a minimum of 12 beers inside them. What a day though---tailgated some brats, got swerved, watched the Brewers win, and got to sit around talking about Brett Favre like he is a messiah. Basically the perfect day for any good solid Wisconny boy.

However, today has also been a blast. I woke up and first thing, my girlfriend gave me a SWEET gift for my birthday. A fucking juicer. This thing is so cool...don't think like some pussy machine for making orange juice. Oh no. This thing is a serious model where you can throw in any fruit or vegetable and out comes juice. Marian even said I could probably throw in an entire plate of Thanksgiving leftovers. Anyone for a turkey-yam-cranberry bomb?

So this brings me to my next installment of the Loose Record suggestion box. My extra queer query is this: what is the most interesting thing that I can put in my juicer to make some juice?And remember, the juicer is too small to fit a retard, so make sure its something feasible.

Winner will receive a bottle of said juice mailed out at the end of this contest.

Exhausted can't convey my feelings at this point in time, but it's all my feeble little mind can muster. A night that begins with margaritas and ends with tequila shots is usually reserved for Tuesedays, but Tuesdays are so fucking Tuesday. Leif, Kamikaze and I began the evening over a few heaping plates of Mexican food and a pitcher of frozen courtesy of El Nuevo. Their food is completely ridiculous. Maybe the best plate of $8 grub in the neighborhood, and I'm not just saying this because Juanita's went under, (RIP).

Around 10pm I ducked into the back of the Mercury to catch a set by the newly redesigned Stills. Now there is a bit of beef with the lineup changes. Sure, the new songs are fairly good, but they lack the urgency and darkness that made the record one of my favorites. This isn't to say they needed to cross the territory line, capture Interpol's flag and return back to their home territory, (no, I don't mean Canada you literal reject). But they could have built on that sound without going mainstream college rock. Ok, that was unfair, but really, the songs lack the same bug that crept inside and forced a nervous twitch. Maybe you don't dig on that, but then again, maybe you shop at Anthropology, (sorry girls). They need to throw that drummer-posing-as-a-lead-singer guy back behind the kit and reenlist that dude who looks like an elf from Lord of the Rings. Maybe he is writing songs for himself. Maybe he wants to be the Springsteen of the North. Either way they need to bring back the good - please! So let me lay this out before you think I'm a complete hater, their set was great, but like The Ponys, there feels like a massive amount of potential is just waiting in the wings. Songs like "Changes", "She's Walking Out", "Lola Stars and Strips" and in particular "In the Beginning" (listen to this jam on Myspace) reaffirmed my fondness for this group of guys even if their new sound is something completely unexpected.

Around 11pm, Big Beach, Little Beach, Tumbleweed and I shot down to Bowery for Round II of Art Brut. Though Tuesday night was a bigger shitshow (I'm crediting Builder to that effect), last night was just as fun. We bounced around the back corner with more reckless abandon. Some of their songs are completely out of control - Go Out And Form A Band!

If you don't hit this party you might be what doctors call C-R-A-Z-Y. Happy birthday Le One Night Stand! Melody Nelson is singing... nuff said:

The SPARKSARITA:

One to-go margarita from the Hat.

That as you drink, you continually fill with sparks.

The result is constant fist pumping from the front of the stage at the Art Brut show last night.

(credit/blame for this drink goes to George)

I'm getting nervous, but this shake up is backed by no tangible reason. Why am I worried? After last night's Art Brut performance at the Bowery Ballroom, I'm wondering how long their brand of post-blog rock can last. Yes, there is a new genre called blog rock and though I can't recall who wins on the original trademark - it's fucking brilliant. Despite what sounded like a problem with the mix (where the fuck was the lead guitar for the first half of the set), their Brut charm came through the black cloud and had the back corner in an uproar.

Before Eddie and his sharply dressed cohorts took the stage, The Ponys managed to pull off another boring set. In all seriousness, you've heard me hype this band before. Celebration Castle, Laced With Romance and even the Another Wound EP receive regular attention in my weekly musical rotation, but their live show has become a 50/50 shot in the dark. Why the fuck do they refuse to play their jams? This isn't some fucking Animal Collective crowd that has come to expect this sort of shunning of their back catalogue. Their songs rock, and when they manage to pull them off (2004 Siren Festival) - they are capable of saving rock and roll. Last night The Ponys showed zero flashes of this potential attitude. While I enjoyed the first couple of new songs, it quickly dawned on me that their set would be a retread of the wasted hour I spent watching them in Texas. Now this may come off as a little harsh, but they are one of my favorite bands and this regression will not stand, man.

During changeover I managed to drown my sorrows in a vodka tonic while comparing SXSW war stories with Mr. Village. As the guitar techs began to clear the stage, a massive banner rose from the back of the stage with bright orange letters announcing that it was indeed time for ART BRUT! My excitement boiled over especially on the appearance of an "I'm Wasted" Builder. The back corner was clutter with folks like Dan, Gigs, Beach, Kelley, Ghory, Stevo, Kevin, Dave, Matt, Joe and a one woman karaoke machine known as Leif Erickson. Like I said before there were some sound issues over the first half of the set, but by the time Bango poured us a tequila shot, I could have cared less. The tequila crept to the back of my throat as the crowd pumped their fist to "Modern Art" which prompted me to do a little pogo'n that landed a full beer on Builder's chest. The rowdiness continued into their finale "Top of the Pops" when Stevo body checked me into the wall, and for some reason there was a beer floating magically between me and said wall that exploded all over me. The encore consisted of "18,000 Lire" and "Good Weekend" which is hands down my favorite Art Brut song. The set wasn't earth-shattering, but it certainly had all the elements necessary for a kick ass Tuesday night.

Oh, and for posterity - Yaps was there in all his sweaty, new haircut glory. He is such a fucking blogger.

Yep, it's time for another Bishop Allen ep. I have purchased both January and February and have to say that they are fantastic. This band really just keeps getting better and better. I just hope they include 'Last Chance America' one of these months.

disclaimer: i am in love with CO, the bass player. but i would love the music anyway. i swear.

(Photo lifted from Brooklyn Vegan) So most of my weekend was a wash. The allergies, sickness or whatever it should be labeled is totally kicking my ass, but there was an extremely high point that came at the (oversized) hands of Wayne Coyne and the rest of The Flaming Lips. Saturday night was their second and last show at Webster Hall and even some extreme sinus pain couldn't keep me away - though it nearly did.

The shift started with me laid up in severe pain that took about an hour to fully dissipate. Thanks to some tea from Paul and Gigs quest to keep my mind off it, I managed to pick my nuts up and place them back in my sack. By the time the Pink Mountaintops hit the stage I was in game mode. They were unbelievable. The eight or so band members chugged along like a classic rock (think good classic, not Boston classic) coal engine whose fire would dwindle and nearly go out only to be fueled by more tambourines and delicate dirty guitar. As you know, the Pink Mountaintops share members with Black Mountain, but they don't exude the same slacker stoner vibe of the sister band.

Once they finished the door got pretty crazy so I had to stay put and do my job. The Flaming Lips took the stage to a massive crowd roar and a waterfall of balloons from the V.I.P. section. With all the Santa’s and Furries on stage it was a Sesame Street Live on acid. As they struck the first notes to their third song, which just so happened to be a cover of Queen's "Bohemian Rhapsody", Gigs and I darted upstairs to sing along and fist pump from the back of the crowd. From the front door I could make out a version of "Yoshimi" and a couple other tracks, but there was a conscious effort in place to not listen as to avoid any disappointment.

Thankfully the door slowed down considerably and I was able to catch the last six or so songs. I joined Christye at the front of the balcony and managed to catch some amazing action like "They Don't Use Jelly" and "Do You Realize". I also had a mild freak out when they played the new single "The W.A.N.D." The hook in that song completely blows me away. Wayne and company went off like fire crackers, (Brooklyn Vegan has the visuals). It is a real joy to watch someone who loves to perform. We get so wrapped up in these dark bands who barely show any emotion when they are sharing their art. Fuck that noise. They need to get some streamer guns and confetti machines - that should change their attitude. By the time they came out for their encore the crowd was so worked up you could barely I could barely hear Christye's call for Wayne's babies. Ok, maybe it wasn't that extreme, but a kid can dream. They finished their set with a spot on cover of Black Sabbath's "War Pigs" that had my fist once again in the air wishing they'd never stop. As the dust (read: confetti) cleared, a horde of smiling hippysters (TM: The Real NG) emptied onto 11th Street with a single question - when will the circus come back to town?

What the shit is wrong with me? It feels like someone took the equivalent of an eightball of pollen, dumped it on my coffee table, made one giant gator and made me snort the entire thing. Basically, what I'm trying to say is that I'm fucked - proper fucked. But let's not dwell on the fact that summer is on its way to making my life miserable; no, lets be positive.

Thursday was unbelievable. The awesome began with a stop at Black and White with a couple of coworkers prior to my trip to Webster Hall as a superfan rather than an employee. As we sipped away at cheap well whiskey, big and little Beach joined us for a final round. Then it was off to Webster Hall for The Big Sleep's debut. Gigs, Noah and Will held the door down in perfect fashion and ushered us right inside. I hustled up to The Big Sleep's dressing room where the crew attempted to not let their nerves get the best of them. As 8:30pm approached, I returned to the floor to link up with the numerous folks there to route for the home team.

Who knew three people were capable of making such a towering wall of sound? Their set went way beyond the level of dangerous decibel levels, but it didn't matter because each note was a bit more perfect than the next. They blew through eight songs with expert precision. The only hiccup occurred when Danny broke a string on the fifth or sixth song. Thankfully one of The Editors' guitar techs was kind enough to restring the ax so it barely had time to get cold. I was a bit nervous as to whether or not The Big Sleep had the shoes to fill the space that is Webster Hall. Sometimes you look at a band and think places like the Mercury, Rothko, etc is where they belong. It's as if the band doesn't have the need or will to break out of those rooms. Maybe this handicap was unfairly imposed on The Big Sleep because up till Thursday I'd never seen them in a room bigger than the Mercury Lounge. Well, the unassuming badasses that make-up the band not only looked like they belonged in the big leagues - they looked and sounded like they owned it. Nice work guys - you continue to backup my claim that you're one of the best NYC rock bands in the game.

During a changeover that took the better part of 2006, I caught up with the production staff in the back stairwell. Once the band went on, the lights went down and everyone went to their post. This left me in the back of the stage to witness what I'd yet to confirm - The Editors fucking rock. Yes, I'm one to jump on them for their lack of originality when it comes to song writing, but they certainly know how to write an emotive hook. They were so fun to watch that I almost felt bad about it. While I was tucked away in the back, I could see the amount of force and effort Tom Smith poured into every song. It was inspiring. Eventually I made my way to the balcony and finished my drunken evening watching the encore with Cara. The evening was a resounding success. Sometimes two perfect sets can really do the trick.