girl about downtown

does marketing fund terrorism?

2005-03-23T16:32:00.000-05:00

I ran across this article in the "all M.I.A." issue of the Minneapolis City Pages and found it so compelling and appropriate; it's a must-read.

i know, i know...

2005-03-23T11:04:00.000-05:00

I haven't posted in a while, mostly because I've been really sick, and for that, I'm sorry.

I didn't even find this article on The Bravery getting bitchslapped by their hometown mag with about as much ahead-of-the-curve credibility as my shoe, on my own.

For that, we have lstiz to thank!

they paint a thousand words

2005-03-17T18:01:00.000-05:00

Holy Shit this band is awesome.

You can stream three of their most excellent tracks here.

Mark my words, Every Move a Picture will come out of Southby with huge buzz.

i liked the like long before they liked the like

2005-03-15T12:41:00.000-05:00

Rolling Stone has named The Like one of their 10 bands to watch in '05. Good for them.

Balick has wanted to hit on them since last summer and Pique and I loved their Knitting Factory show last September.

So there.

she don't surrender

2005-03-15T11:50:00.000-05:00

Apparently, Bloggers really like M.I.A.

I would call myself more of an online diarist, but as you know, I heart her, so click here to read a Q & A with the one and only M.I.A.

(Footnote: Balick...where's my copy of Arular? On the way indeed.)

Ever heard of the energizer bunny?

2005-03-15T11:27:00.000-05:00

I literally haven't stopped since Thursday. I am so exhausted, I seem to be fighting a losing battle with my eyelids, and I don't know what trick they're going to pull on me next.

On Thursday evening, I headed uptown to mid-mid-town to join the girls for a happy hour our friend won when she dropped her business card in a bar. We had some bar food, half-priced drinks and chatted for a bit, before I departed to meet Jeffrey at ICP for the Larry Clark Retrospective opening that (as any art opening does) had cheap wine, pretentious conversations about art and young, hot, gay art stars. I spotted Michael Pitt, who looked a lot less greasy than I expected and also ran into an ex-boyfriend who may or may not be completely sane. While I was originally not a fan of Larry Clark, I sort of question his enduring voyeurism into the lives and sexuality of adolescents, specifically young boys, I really enjoyed the body of work overall and have both a newfound respect for him and free art book to remember the evening by. It was also interesting to see the casting notes from Kids and remember how much of an impact that movie actually had on my life (I'll spare you the details.)

After the opening, I met Alex and Dan in the EV and we headed out for a very, very late dinner. We only made it as far as Lucien, which was fine by me, and had a wonderful meal and (at least on my end) drunken conversation. Two VTs, a few glasses of wine and another few vodkas later, I was spent and after stopping by my apartment, they headed home and I literally fell into bed.

Friday, after barely surviving the nine-to-five, we met up at Euzkadi where we enjoyed and amazing tapas dinner and some fruity sangria. We met up with Lola and Pique on 2nd Ave and headed to Crash Mansion to see Clap Your Hands and another few bands we totally ignored. Let me just ask one question about Friday night...Who's idea was it to eschew mixed drinks and down *only* shots, chasing them with $2 PBRs? I mean, what kind of degenerate spends their evening taking round after round of shots??? Oh, yeah, that would be me.

At 2 AM CYHSY *finally* took the stage just as the toll of what had to have been 10 rounds of vodka took its toll on me. I would like to issue an open apology to the band as we stood up front snapping pics of each other and them (which if my camera were working, I would post here), yelling, screaming, dancing and generally being entirely inappropriate and obnoxious. I don't think I'll ever make it to another CYHSY show, and if I do, I'll have to go in disguise.

Only god knows why when the snow started to fall outside, we left Crash Mansion and headed for 2A. Did we *really* need to have another three rounds? I doubt it. I don't quite remember what was said, or how many shots were done. But at 4AM, as Pique departed, yelling at her companion for being a party pooper, we all went our separate ways. I got a drunken, misspelled text from Lola, assuring me she arrived home safely, just as I fell flat on my ass (by myself, I might add) somewhere between 2A and my apartment. Pique said the highlight of the evening was when Lola and I greeted her in the crash mansion bathroom wearing the exact same color tee shirts, but I contend my favorite part was when Lo and I snuck into an adjoining stall and peeked over the top to find our two girls being the mischievous women we know and love.

I'm not going to lie. I won't mince words: Saturday was painful.

Other than ordering a bacon, egg and cheese and fries from the diner across the street and obsessively doing laundry in anticipation of my familial visitors, I sat on my couch, cursing Bacchus for leading me into endless temptation. I left to meet my mom and sister at Penn Station and took them home to my place before we went to Schiller's for an early dinner. We were home by ten, just in time for me to regroup and meet "the young kids" for more drinks around the nabe. Pretty standard, except that it was my last night with Alex and Dan, so we chatted, relaxed and strongly monitored the alk intake.

I'm not really sure if I even woke up on Sunday. I mean, I know I got out of bed, showered and got dressed, but I'm not positive I was fully conscious. The moms and the sis took my roommate and I out to brunch and although we arrived at Clinton Street Baking Co. early enough, we still waited an hour and a half for a table. You might ask why in god's name anyone would ever wait that long for brunch, and if you did, clearly, you've never eaten at the aforementioned spot. It was heaven, our brunch, and my sister quickly pronounced it the best breakfast she's ever had. Since she's never been to the big apple, I considered that a pretty damn good compliment.

Anyone who knows me well, knows I have an intense proclivity for shopping, and by proclivity, I mean obsession. After spending a weekend with my mom and sister, I know know that, like many addictions, this one is genetic. We spent most of Sunday roaming downtown and topped it off with an excellent meal at my favorite nyc restaurant, Blue Ribbon Bakery. We arrived home and mom and I watched Before Sunset which I totally loved, even better than Before Sunrise, in fact.

I won't bore you with the details of my Monday, which included catching up on work and editing email communications, but last night the girls joined my mom, sis and I for a wonderful dinner at Lucien. I love it when Mom comes to town and sweeps me off my feet with a culinary smorgasbord at varied downtown restaurants. There's really nothing like it.

You can say it, it's okay...I'm a spoiled brat.

please send me to montreal...

2005-03-09T09:46:00.000-05:00

...unless it's colder than it is here. In that case, send me in a couple of months.

Pitchfork don't waste any time. Click here for a profile on Owen Pallett and his solo project Final Fantasy.

this is the dream of win and regine

2005-03-08T12:44:00.000-05:00

I am not the first person to write about this video, and more obviously, about this band, but I certainly won't be the last. The Arcade Fire's newest video for my favorite song "Rebellion (Lies)" is now available on MTV.com for your viewing pleasure.

And let me just say, I totally adore what I could see of this creation. (My work computer monitor isn't great and I watched it while eating my decidely boring lunch.) Of course, MTV had to screw it up by posting some ridiculous summary about it, but nonetheless, this is a beautifully ethereal representation of the song with Win as a pied piper and Regine as a spritely wood nymph.

This is exactly what I would have thought a video for an Arcade Fire song would look like. I can't wait to see it again and again and again.

Update: Balick directed me to this article in Rolling Stone on Arcade. All I have to say is, if that's really the way Win and Regine are, they are a) my favorite couple in music and b) something every married couple could aspire to.

dear sons and daughters of hungry ghosts

2005-03-07T14:53:00.000-05:00

YAY! I just received my very own copy of Wolf Parade's self-titled six song EP. And, oh, how I wish there were more than just six for me to enjoy. Alas, I'll have to wait until they finally put put a full length on Sub-Pop.

I'm all for sharing the wealth, so click here to download "Grounds For Divorce."

an honest mistake?

2005-03-07T14:26:00.000-05:00

Thanks, Laur, for sending us this little gem that proves for some rockstars, fame doesn't automatically equal an immediate obsession with supermodels. Sadly, I think it means The Bravery's loyal hometown fans have been eclipsed.

More commentary on the relaxing and fun-filled weekend later (a few tidbits include: a bad movie, gallery hopping with John Waters and Meryl Streep-ok not with exactly, fantasy baseball drafts and a tasty dessert outing), right now, I am working...not carrying on myriad gmail conversations, I swear.

intercontinental psychoanalysis

2005-03-03T09:56:00.000-05:00

It's truly amazing what a good chat with a best friend or a night out with the girls can do for you when you're feeling confused. Last night, I was lucky enough to have had both.

As I waited pateintly at home for my Internet-ordered groceries, I got a call from BerlinLaura who stayed up until 1AM to respond to a rather confused and unsettled e-mail. Seriously, who else but a girl who's known you for 15 years would do somethig like that? But I digress.

Anyway, we proceeded to dissect my the depth and breadth of my confusion, my thoughts, my emotions. My internal monologue of self-doubt, fear and guilt became an external one and ever patiently, Laura listened and said all the things that made evrything right in the world, at least for the duration of our call. I felt like I was in a flavored coffee commercial, except that since I couldn't stop talking, the coffee would have been flavored with speed.

Then all the girls came over for a couple of drinks (or in Pique's case, a couple of shots) before we headed out to the Tsunami benefit with Clap Your Hands Say Yeah, The Natural History and The Fever at Crash Mansion. We arrived just in time to hear three songs from CYHSY (one of them my favorite) before they left the stage. If I weren't seeing them at the same venue next week with Alex and Dan, I would have been pretty bummed. After their performance a few weeks back at Sin-e, I was looking forward to hearing them again, especially in the hopes that with more gigs, their stage presence would have improved. I really want this to be true, so I'll just type it out and it'll be so: CYHSY's live performance improves with each show they play.

After sitting at the bar and catching up with an old friend, we made our way up to the front to see The Natural History. Damn, those boys are hot. I mean, seriously. They played a good set, but it was sort of like watching Brad Pitt act in a movie. No matter how good a job he does, he's still Brad Pitt, he'll always be hot, and you won't be able to focus on his um, "craft."

We left during The Fever's set and the 5th Street crew went uptown as Becca jumped in a cab and the Lo's hopped on over to Happy Endings for the Interpol afterparty. I got home in time to gulp down a bagel and a bottle of water, thus warding off any possible hangover, and went to bed.

So, after my friends so bravely endured my ranting and raving, and thus improved my overall emotional disposition, (oh, yeah, thanks for that, girls!) I leave you with this little nonsensical gem:

I have eaten 3 bagels in 15 hours. They all tasted different.

unconditional

2005-03-02T10:06:00.000-05:00

It's early, I'm tired and I can't manage to focus on my computer screen. So instead of doing something that requires actual brainpower, I thought I'd eke out a post.

First off, what is up with The Brits and The Bravery, man? NME has a major crush on them. The online pub has posted stories about them almost every day this week, including today's about demand in Londontown being so high, the band was forced to add a third show. Oh, Lola, gone are the days when we can follow Sam around Bowery Ballroom pretending we might actually work up the courage to talk to him!

In other not-so-news, iTunes has posted a free, seven-minute long sampler of Moby's new record, Hotel. While I have to say, as a personality, I find Moby extremely irritating, I do have to confess both Play and 18 came to me at very significant turning points in my life and thus, I always feel musically, a little bit connected to them. I have a feeling (or is it a fear?) that Hotel will come at an equally consequential time for me.

Okay, thanks for undulging me in my morning caffeine/blog fix.

money can't buy me love...

2005-03-01T15:03:00.000-05:00

Living in an overpriced city such as New York, I always feel totally bankrupt, and not just morally...financially, too.

So when Balick sent me this link, I felt better for like, two whole seconds.

Thanks, Balick, you always know how to deliver a backhanded compliment.

green is the new blog.

2005-02-28T17:42:00.000-05:00

Dear (faithful?) readers,

You may have noticed a few changes here of late. Intermittent postings, a new name, and now, a whole new template. So I thought since you so loyally read this for it's incredibly interesting, articulate and thoughtful posts I perhaps owed you a bit of an explanation.

I know I haven't been around lately, that I've been blogging with less fervor and timliness, and for that I apologize. You see, it's been a little dramatic here in downtown New York lately, by which I mean, the empty wasteland that is my brain has actually been kind of busy with life-altering events and existential crises (and yes, that's plural.)

Think frontierspeople making the trek out West, covered wagons, tumbleweeds, hooved animals, but in cuter outfits, without all the death and all in my pretty-but-often-drunk little head.

Not making sense? Sound cryptic? Welcome to my world.

Anywho, I'm back. And I ask you, what could be more fitting for a new name, a new beginning and a renewed commitment to writing what I can only hope my children never read than an adorable, cute new outfit?

So, here it is: brand new look, same great taste.

You may now shower me with love and affection.

Love,
ME.

lost souls forever

2005-02-28T11:49:00.000-05:00

I feel like it might be a little late to post about the Kasabian show, since it was like weeks ago, but I would like to point out that I've decided rock stars are boring. Struggling musicians are much more interesting. Fame and fortune (albeit relative) sort of muddle the tortured aspect us girls like to save. Or maybe it's just that the Kasabian boys were just a bit too trashed, even for rockstars.

Let me go back to the beginning. The four of us girls arrived at Irving just as Kasabian took the stage. Now, it's important to note that they were opening for The Music (a band I have little interest in) and so their set was early and brief. Still, they totally owned the crowd and rocked the house. It was loud, it was vibrant, pulsing and all around rocked. For a second, even though we stood toward the back, I sort of felt like we were in a vacuum. Like everything else stopped and all there was in the world was right then and there. I couldn't shake the memory of the verisimilar (yeah, I'll take 10 cents for my word) scenes in 24 Hour Party People when the Happy Mondays took the stage at the Factory...and even though Irving is a far cry from Manchester and Kasabian--while behaving recreationally a lot like I imagine the Mondays did--have much more appeal and reach than the Mondays.

The show seemed too short and I wished I'd been able to see them in November at Bowery (stupid business trip). Literally half the crowd emptied out after their set, too, which is an excellent barometer for their popularity and success. We hung around a while during the Music's set, but were too easily distracted by the bar, imagined Sharks-vs.-Jets-style blogger face-offs and friends upstairs, so we headed down to Eleven for the afterparty which left quite a bit to be desired. After downing a free Red Stripe, we went home, a bit deflated that our big night with the rockstars ended up being so entirely dull.

girls just want to have fun

2005-02-24T11:48:00.000-05:00

Yeah, I changed the name, so what?

While "the mouse show" will always be near and dear to my heart, life is changing and change is good.

So, I present to you the aptly renamed chronicle of my mostly boring but sometimes comically embarassing exploits.

Call me a nouvelle vague Holly Golightly...with the drinking problem but sans the Givenchy.

Lady Killah

2005-02-22T14:25:00.000-05:00

A little Pique sent me this article/commentary/review of M.I.A.'s new album, Arular. And I have to say I've had similar thoughts of being so obsessed with this MC and fetishizing/appropriating her music to the point that I felt a tiny bit of an orientalist aesthetic creeping through.

That doesn't mean I don't still love her, but I like my music commentary to be multi-faceted, even if I always bitched about the left-wing-radicalist liberal arts curriculum at Lang.

my gift to you is a moldy pizza

2005-02-22T10:38:00.000-05:00

I think my dedication to blogging is faltering a bit, since I haven't updated on last Thursday's Kasabian show, which I'll get to, you know, later...

But I wanted to take a quick sec to point out two pieces of news in order of importance.

First, today is Jon's birthday. If you don't know Jon, well, then, I feel sorry for you, because you're missing out. I heart him for many reasons, including: the fact that he and Matt (but mostly Matt) got kicked out of the Tribeca Grand; that he once served me a moldy pizza at 2 AM in Chi-town and I ate it because I was so, um, "hungry"; after Matt left me to move to LA, Jon invited me to become a groupie for "My Name is Jonas" and finally, because this boy has so much talent he fronts--count 'em--three tribute bands.

In any case, even though he is not a reader of the mouse show, I still wish him a very happy, messy, debaucherous b-day.

And my second piece of "news" is that Pitchfork today reviews Final Fantasy's album, "Final Fantasy Has a Good Home."

That is all.

back to the music

2005-02-16T14:40:00.000-05:00

Every Wednesday I compile a newsletter of pertinent music-related articles from publications across the country for work. However banal this task may seem, it's one of my favorite things about my job, because, in addition to an almost unlimited supply of legal, independent MP3s I get to read all about music scenes across the country and, for the cumulative hour or two I do this, get paid for it.

In any case, I ran across this article in the Village Voice about the sad trend of small, downtown indie music venues being forced to close their doors.

Also, and I type this with the heavy heart of a girl in rapt anticipation, M.I.A.'s forthcoming solo album, Arular, has been postponed indefinitely.

And finally, lucky girl that I am, I got my hands on a copy of the Decemberists forthcoming album, Picaresque, yesterday and am enjoying it profusely. Click here to download the track "We both go down together."

delusions of grandeur

2005-02-16T09:57:00.000-05:00

Interesting...it's been more than a week since my last entry. Part of me wishes I was writing this while riding on an LIRR train to the beach eyeing my expertly written, beautifully illustrated diary missing two years of my life, sorta like that wacky movie with that guy from Ace Ventura, Pet Detective and that girl who is so obviously crazy because she can't decide on a normal haircolor and oscillates between hot pink and blue and doesn't take care of her roots.

Or maybe it's just that I was listening to Death Cab's "Movie Script Ending" on the train this morning and I wish the last week of my totally mundane, pedestrian life that I pretend is incredibly dramatic was really the opening of Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind. Alas, I'm just another faux New Yorker reading the New Yorker on the 6 and living the life of someone advancing all-too-quickly on her quarter-life crisis.

Speaking of New Yorkers, or quasi-New Yorkers, apparently, I've decided they aren't so bad and I'm to remain one. Basically, as most of you already know, I've been agonizing for months about whether or not relocating to Chicago would be a smart move. I had the possibility of a job there at a sort of prestigious advertising firm, great friends and contacts at three of the city's best live music venues who could supplement my addiction to shows with guest list spots, to name just a few of the "pros."

But then I got a pretty attractive offer to stay here at eMusic, and I began to realize that saying you're going to leave New York and actually doing it are two very different things. So, I guess this means I'm staying.

Don't all shout "hooray" at once, I know you're excited (part of being a quasi NYer, I've decided, is the illusion that people actually care--tee hee, just kidding).

But seriously, how could I leave this amazing city? This weekend, as Matt was here visiting me for Valentine's Day, he tried to convince me that LA was the new Williamsburg. But I never really hung out in Brooklyn anyway, and two-thirds of the Yeah Yeah Yeah's does not a compararble downtown East Coast scene make. So there.

Anywho, after all of this "confusion" and "drama"...I'm back...mostly because my friends were beginning to believe that I was comparison shopping cities just to get some attention. In light if this, do you think throwing myself a "going-to-stay" party is a little much?

a little bit of summer in the dead of winter

2005-02-06T13:06:00.000-05:00

Let me tell you a little something about last night's M.I.A. show.

Wow.

I haven't felt so much energy, so much raw fucking sexuality on stage in one performance since, well, maybe ever. M.I.A. stormed the stage with such matter-of-fact command that you never even gave her total control over the crowd a second thought. Like the sky is blue, this girl owns it, and of course best of all, she knows it.

Adele, Laura, Laura and I got to Knitting Factory at about 11:45, sadly just missing Diplo's pre-show warmup. And I have to say, while Knitting Factory was never my venue of choice, I have never seen it buzzing like it was last night. There was palpable excitement everywhere, and inside the main space, you couldn't move, you could hardly even breathe. M.I.A. took the stage just as we got our drinks at the bar and absolutely tore it up. The whole crowd of New York City's most discriminating, we've-seen-it-all music aficionados, was floored; singing along, dancing, throwing arms into the air. If nothing else, M.I.A. taught us that, well, we may have seen a lot, but she's still got a thing or two to teach us.

After a mid-set costume-change, the room was so hot even M.I.A. had to take a break, our MC, as of now my own personal live performance hero, belted out hits like Galang, MIA, Uraqt, Sunshowers and Bucky Done Gun, before leaving the stage (off to Misshapes) and--wait for it--NOT DOING AN ENCORE!

I love it. How long have I been saying I wish artists would just forgo the obligatory, I-know-you-want-me, two-song, second set and leave us wanting more?

2005-02-06T13:05:00.000-05:00

Not wanting to leave us entirely in the lurch, Diplo took center stage, wowing the crowd with his--simply put-- absolutely superior DJ skills. I mean, does this guy have a bionic ear or something? He's fucking unbelieveable, and that face of his doesn't hurt either.

The four of us danced, sweated and were compltely blown away by Diplo's command of the decks. All I can say is, if M.I.A. is the front for this operation, the Diplo is most definitely the unwavering, unfailing support.

We made our way to the front bar to rehash the amazing performance we just witnessed, had some drinks and decided where to go next. There were rumblings of the after-afterparty in a certain superhuman DJs room at The Rivington Hotel (where I hear Nick and Jessica are also staying) as well as the old standby Misshapes, where M.I.A. was making a repeat NYC appearance.

I accompanied Laura outside as she smoked a cigarette and she so-obervantly pointed out M.I.A. not 10 feet from us, looking petite and absolutely glowing. She climbed into a nondescript Ford Explorer on her way to Misshapes and I realized, she couldn't have been bigger than one-and-a-half olsen twins, physically speaking of course. Charismatically, she's bigger than life--on stage she looks ten feet tall--but on the street she's just another girl going from one big party to the next, doing it all in her yellow miniskirt and white high-top Chuck Taylors.

In the interest of time and space, I'll spare you the rest of the evening's details, but I will tell you this: go download M.I.A.'s Galang, get your hands on a copy of "Piracy Funds Terrorism" and buy tickets to Coachella (that just went on sale yesterday) so you can see this duo perform there.

Flying to the desert to see this phenomenon in action, at whatever cost, is well worth it, I promise.

You can thank me later.

...you came back to me...

2005-02-04T01:24:00.000-05:00

He's back, he's back!

No, not Matt, he'd never come back to New York, I'm talking about my life partner!

My iPod has returned to me! And despite my jealousy, my painful memories of spending nights in bed, alone without his warm embrace, of solitary morning subway commutes, of painful afternoons ambling, lonely, on the unforgiving downtown streets, no iPod to share private jokes about a song or a memory of that long-lost evening in Florence and our the playlist created for that very night...I welcomed him with open arms.

I had no reservations, asked no questions and made no allegations.

Tonight we were the only two um, people, in the world.

And oh did we relive the beauty, the wonder of our common experiences! (After all, we had my entire music library to reload!)

And we went to bed with the hope, nay, the promise! of more to come...all those downloads on my work computer, just waiting to be transferred with the love only a high-speed firewire connection can provide.

Somebody must really like me up there.

I heart eMusic

2005-02-03T16:59:00.000-05:00

(and it isn't just because I work for them.)

They've got M.I.A.'s single available for download!

my favorite part is when he called his list "very strict"

2005-02-03T10:59:00.000-05:00

This is how you spell entitlement.

"I went out into the night; I went out to find some light."

2005-02-02T13:13:00.000-05:00

Last night we set out for the hotly anticipated hipster show of the season, The Arcade Fire at Webster Hall. Nevermind that this band's been blogged about, written about, reported on to death, the hype is well-deserved...This arcade is definitely on fire. (Yeah, I know I probably wasn't the first to make that insanely unoriginal comment.)

We arrived relatively early. Our band of beloved miscreant musicians was slated to go on at ten, but we got there right at nine thirty or so to stake out a good spot. Man Man went on and sorta freaked us out but also fascienated us with their--as Laura put it--music of the absurd. (Funny, Laura, I totally spied a Rimbaud book on your coffee table during our pre-show cocktail-klatsch!)

As we moved front and center for the main event, we saw the adorable Regine set up her many instruments and the rest of the band (I haven't bothered to learn their names yet, there's really just room for Win and Regine in my heart) tooled around the stage doing the same.

Just when we thought it was time for them to go on (and hour late, btw) Win steps up to the microphone and introduces Final Fantasy, Owen of Hidden Cameras fame, who plays a few (four or so) excellent songs on his violin, including the track "This is the Dream of Win and Regine" about my current favorite couple in music. I really enjoyed Owen's set, however short and impatient I was for TAF, and afterward I even picked up his CD, Final Fantasy "Has a Good Home."

So when TAF finally graced us with their presence, an hour and a half later, we were more than a little peeved and tired of standing. But I'm glad we waited because this is a show that's meant to be savored. As performers go, they attack their music with reckless abandon and they draw in the crowd not just by their excellent songwriting (me personally? I love the strings) but by their excitement and childlike humor. Not only are they having a good time, but they're making sure you are, too.

The highlights for me were definitely their hits: Neighborhood #3 (Power Out) and Rebellion (Lies)--note: you gotta love a band that hearts parenthetical titles--and if you've ever been to Webster Hall you know how much floor stomping and clapping can make you feel like they're literally bringing the house down. I mean, the place was vibrating, or maybe that was just me. And Regine is the cutest pixie chick I've ever seen. Haiti is my favorite "slow" song on the disc, and she sings it with unassuming command. I'm still trolling the blogs to find out what the last encore song was, because it rocked, and I want it now.

So, when we left shortly after one AM, we were exhausted, but brimming with excitement and satiated like we'd just eaten a big bowl of mac and cheese with a perfect crust and creamy insides. Yep, The Arcade Fire is like a yummy batch of comfort food mac and cheese. MMMM.

I really couldn't get enough of them, so I went back home for a second helping by way of their performance on Conan O'Brien.

I identify with Kirsten, because her outfits are the cutest...

2005-02-01T13:45:00.000-05:00

Which O.C. character are you?

sort of like corner deli coffee, but virtual

2005-02-01T13:12:00.000-05:00

My love for Mike Doughty and a good bagel with cream cheese and tomato knows no bounds, which is why you should check out online magazine The Deli for an interview with the man I refer to as the poet laureate of the LES. The mag also posts tracks for you to listen to while you read the articles, which is definitely a plus, although it could use some fact checkers or at least learn how to use spell check.

Also, notice anything else at The Deli? Clap on, clap off! it's a little blurb about my new band crush (no adele and laura, not that one), Clap Your Hands Say Yeah.

I'm not saying I wrote about them first, but I'm definitely one of the top two.

what's this coachella thing everybody keeps blogging about?

2005-01-31T09:21:00.000-05:00

The 2005 Coachella lineup has been announced!

I am particularly excited for: The Faint, Kasabian, Coldplay, Arcade Fire, M.I.A., The Futureheads, Gang of Four, Jem, Autolux, New Order, Rilo Kiley, Keane, Bloc Party, Radio 4, etc., etc.

Funny that I'll be seeing three of those bands alone this week: Arcade Fire (Tuesday), Keane (Wednesday) and M.I.A. (Saturday).

Are you going?

Update: I didn't notice this at first (in the haze of my post-weekend Monday morning, late-to-work-but-still-blogging-out-of-pure-excitement, um haze) but hello? Is this lineup not a former Goth girl's dream? Nine Inch Nails, BAUHAUS? Cocteau Twins, Gang of Four? Should I be bringing my vynil pants to this event? Hmmm, that might not be such a good idea, as there is a strong likelihood they will melt.

maybe not so much for you with the drinking

2005-01-30T21:57:00.000-05:00

It's been a long, long weekend. Friday night Adele and I enjoyed an office happy hour, a pasta gorge-fest, champagne cocktails, non-champagne cocktails (but still cocktails) and oh yeah, SPARKS.

(Note to self and friends: the next time I suggest, at any hour of the day or night, to purchase any Sparks or energy-related malt liquor beverage, please wrap me up, put me in a cab and send me home...ASAP.)

After a fun-filled evening at Hi-Fi, we drove down to Zack's house where there was wrestling and of course, the anti-christ's beverage of choice, Sparks.

Saturday I spent most of the day waiting for my fresh direct delivery and cursing myself endlessly for partaking of the grape, as Dad would say, although I'll amend it to say partaking of the potato, which sounds about as glamorous as I felt, and leave it at that. I met up with Adele, Hilary and Rebecca and Laura at 119 (which I totally thought was the bar next to Irving Plaza, but in fact was Laura's apartment) where we had some cocktails and Laura and Adele did their best to make me blush. I walked down to Sin-e to meet up with a friend and take care of some work-related stuff and caught a few minutes of the Space Mtn show. Mimicking our own personal mid-winter CMJ, we popped over to Merc Lounge to see Tommy Stinson (of The Replacements fame) perform a few songs from his new album. Adele, Laura and Hilary picked me up in a cab shortly thereafter and we drove in the freezing cold and snow to the big BK to meet up with Pete and the Andover crew at Union Pool. Happy, happy!

I wish I could tell you more about the evening, but there were lots of um, distractions. Adele and Laura lovingly endured my complaints, my musings and my silly delusions of grandeur.

And yes, those are all euphemisms.

We trudged through the Brooklyn snow, onto the L and in the EV and, as usual, I was totally retarded. Thanks guys, for not leaving me in the snow like you probably should have.

I fought the law, and all I got was a stinking pepsi

2005-01-27T10:00:00.000-05:00

I realize it's been awhile since I've posted, but, let's be honest, who finds inspiration in bitter cold like this? I mean really, all this weather is good for is...well, nothing.

And, yes, thanks for asking kids, my iPod hasn't come back to me. I mean, he could have at least left me a dear john letter, or perhaps responded to my many calls to the Best Buy help desk looking after him. All for naught.

Which brings me to one of my first memories with my beloved 'pod. Last year, I caught the tail-end of the Pepsi-iTunes Superbowl song giveaway (remember those ridiculous commercials with filesharing youngsters saying they'd still get their music for free, as The Clash's "I fought the Law" played over the background?) And then, as now, I stood in the deli tipping each Pepsi bottle to a 45 degree angle in the hopes of reading what was in the cap--a pretty successfuly endeavor if I do say so myself.

Well, it appears that our wacky old cola company still hasn't fixed the problem. Digital Music News blog is reporting the same issues are confronting Pepsi for this year's promotion.

No complaints here, it just means I'll get more singles off iTunes for fewer Pepsi-purchases.

It must be a mirage

2005-01-22T15:29:00.000-05:00

Are you going to Coachella? IAM!

Matt and I just got our tickets for both days at the Internet pre-sale.

Although rumors are abounding, the full lineup won't be announced until January 31.

Plus, they've got the new site up and running.

I haven't been this excited since, well, I don't know. But I am pretty damned excited.

my camel is in disrepair

2005-01-21T10:50:00.000-05:00

You all know what a soft spot I have for verbose reviews, you know, the ones that use a lot of pointless, extraneous words to describe something relatively basic. Maybe I should read more Hemingway or something.

But anyway, as promised, my good friend and undergarment connisseur Alex has sent in a very succinct review of his recent "Evening With Colin Meloy" at Schubas (sadly, I missed both nights at Fez here in NYC).

Alex sez Colin Meloy needs the Decemberists:

1) so he doesn't have to do violin sounds with his mouth
2) so he doesn't have to try to whistle
3) and so someone will keep him on track and playing music instead of allowing him to go off on some diatribe that ultimately is a little bit too long and begins to lose audience concentration as fast as his lyrics usually draw them in

And there you have it. Sage words from a concise Chicagoan. You can thank him later. Full stop.

Remember take hold of your time here

2005-01-21T10:43:00.000-05:00

Interpol tickets for their 3/1/05 Radio City show go on sale tomorrow at 10AM.

Internet pre-sale on ticketmaster.com is already on.

Blogging in the dark is harder than it looks

2005-01-21T02:29:00.000-05:00

I woke up from my "practice nap" to a voicemail from Ryan, who in his oh-so-big-brotherly way was sending me dispatches from the inaugural ball front:

The Emperor Palpatine of the Republican Party, Karl Rove, walked right in front of Ryan and then my brother shook hands with evil henchman John Ashcroft and told him he was doing "an exemplary job." Wait, an exemplary job resigning or covering up boobies at the DOJ? I'm confused.

All of that's great, Ryan, and I sorta feel like Gawker Omnimedia's slutty stepdaughter, but call me when something important happens, like you get to buy Jenna and Tonica a drink.

Also, I've gotta stop falling asleep before ten...I always somehow end up wide awake around this time, watching Leno reruns and sitting in bed, causing major carpal-tunnel-type damage and possible blindness by trying to type by nothing but the soothing glow of the TV.

waiting for the man

2005-01-19T15:34:00.000-05:00

Day two of the heartwrenching, boundless lonliness: I forge on, consuming new music at breakneck speeds, as if to say: fine, little iPod, I don't need you to enjoy music...I can download mp3s all I want and listen to them without cradling your pretty little white facade in my arms.

You mean nothing to me.

What? I passed out there for a second. Sorry.

Anywho, I've been obsessively listening to the new, as-yet-unnamed, dubiously procured Beck record. It's very, um, LA, but I like it! Is that wrong?

Also, I came across this excellently named band, Clap Your Hands Say Yeah. They are in the midst of a three-week residency at Pianos on Wednesday nights and I will definitely be checking them out soon. They count Talking Heads and Lou Reed among their influences, but I can't shake my own Psychedelic Furs comparison, nor can I forgo the de rigeur Ian Curtis reference. But they're really good so go to their site and download a few of their demo tracks from their forthcoming album like I just did.

But whatever you do, don't load the tracks onto your iPod! Those little fuckers aren't to be trusted.

the last of the famous international playboys

2005-01-18T13:20:00.000-05:00

Remember when I gushed over Colin Meloy's cover of Morrissey's "Everyday is Like Sunday?"

Well, it appears Colin hearts me, because Pitchfork is reporting that The Decemberists are releasing an EP of their very own renditions of the Mozzer's compositions.

Also, Alex will be seeing Meloy's solo show at Schubas tomorrow night. We expect a review and perhaps also some photos, Alex, so you're on the hook now.

M.I.A.

2005-01-18T10:26:00.000-05:00

So, I'm having a few issues this morning, chief of which, my iPod quit on me over the weekend and I had to stand on line at Best Buy for, like, an hour at the "Geek Squad" to have them tell me that even though I bought the supposedly amazing warantee there, I'd still have to send in my precious 'pod to see if it could be fixed before they'd give me a brand new one.

So, this long weekend I avoided leaving the apartment at all costs, so I wouldn't feel the full impact of being M.I.A. (my ipod absent). See, the thing about my iPod is, it acts as a sort of buffer, a security blanket, if you will, and now having had the pleasure of using it for almost 10 months, I am completely lost without it. Fellow iPod cult-members will certainly commiserate.

So, I'll have to bulk up on my live show attendance for the next few weeks to make up for the lack of music in my life. I guess I could always carry around my laptop and listen to my iTunes, but I'd think that might be a little too bulky, even for a music addict such as myself. We've been on a ticket buying spree of late that I thought I would share with you, dear reader(s).

*This Friday is Sea Ray's farewell show at Mercury Lounge. Sadly, I've only caught a brief glimpse of them live when they opened up for The Stills last February at Bowery Ballroom. Anyway, "Revelry" is one of my most favorite songs ever, so if you can go to this show, please do.

*February 1 Arcade Fire at Webster Hall
*February 2 Keane at Hammerstein Ballroom
*February 5 M.I.A.'s first ticketed NYC performance at Knitting Factory (Diplo, whom I'd like to think of as her sidekick, will be on the decks)
*February 16 Polyphonic Spree and Mike Doughty at Irving Plaza
*February 17 The Music and Kasabian (with Morningwood) at Irving Plaza (Note: Morningwood's song "Take off your clothes" is perhaps the hottest, sexiest, dirtiest song ever. It's sort of the musical version of reading a certain delinquent's blog.)

Also, because of ipodgate, I'm not quite sure I've really properly *heard* this band yet, but I would like to recommend to you Adom. They are a rock band of another era, very elegiac in my opinion and their while their songs "God's busy in the backroom" and "Mary" aren't exactly earth-shattering, they are very beautiful and the vocals are truly, well, inspiring. (Click on the song titles for a link to download the tracks for a limited time.)

Also, if you haven't gotten your hands on M.I.A. and Diplo's "Piracy Funds Terrorism," at least download "Galang" and "Sunshowers" from iTunes and please, for goodness sake,
buy tickets to her show!!! (They're just $12 and two of those dollars go to relief of the Tsunami which struck M.I.A.'s Sri Lankan home.)

And finally, if anyone with a) exceptional music taste (read: better than mine) wants to lend me their iPod for two weeks or so or b) with a little too much income wants to buy me an iPod shuffle, I would be eternally grateful.

I predict a hangover

2005-01-17T20:17:00.000-05:00

Well, I'm not much for introductions today, so I'll get right into my weekend summation. In my newfangled attempt to save money, I have chosen to only go out one night a weekend. This is both an excellent idea and a horrile one, upon which I will elaborate later.

But first, we need to spend a moment ruminating on the virtues of Peter Sarsgaard. Friday night Jeffrey and I met up to see an early showing of Kinsey. First off, this is an amazing movie and totally deserves the accolades and amazing reviews it's been getting. The movie is sort of an epic of sex, or the study thereof and although it obviously venerates Kinsey the man, it presents a relatively balanced picture of his work. If anything, it's a great depiction of sexual norms. And while Liam Neeson and Laura Linney were marvelous, for me, the star of the movie was definitely Peter Sarsgaard.

I liked him so much, I promptly started watching Garden State when I got home, thereby programming my very own Friday-night Peter Sarsgaard mini-marathon. Before I theorize on why I heart Peter, I'd like to take this opportunity to let everyone know that I love, LOVE Garden State. Am I one of the very last people of my particular sociological strata to have seen and professed my love for this movie? Probably. Do I care? Not in the least. (Note aso that Zach Braff kept a blog.)

Let me also say, that I know this is not one of the best films ever made, nor is it one that will go down in the celluloid archives as groundbreaking or genre-defying or any of that crap. And you know what? It doesn't matter. For me this movie is evocative of feelings that I just wanna feel all the time, and it seems to capture them in such a totally spot-on way, that I want to watch Zach Braff, Natalie Portman and, duh, Peter Sarsgaard over and over again.

Speaking of Sarsgaard, what is so appealing about him? Is it that his slightly effiminate body language is non-threatening to me? Is it that he chooses characters that are sort of on the sidelines but then he ends up stealing the show? Is it that he's the kind of actor I think Matt should aspire to be? Or is it just that I enjoy the way his half-closed, not un-intoxicated eyes remind me of Matt? I don't know, all I can say is that he's hott and I want to see every movie he's ever been in.

Well, for a pretty lonely Friday night, that went on for a little too long, didn't it?

So, Saturday afternoon I spent a lot of time running errands and trying to avoid going shopping, since I've vowed not to purchase anything non-essential for a month. After spending a nice evening at home and making some tasty salmon that stunk up our apartment and sent my roommate running for her bedroom, Adele and Laura came over for a drink and politely endured my showing them photos from my trip to LA.

We quickly hopped in a cab to drive down to the Tribeca Grand to see the world famous Kaiser Chiefs (title theirs) perform a show for the weekly Saturday night party downstairs. All I can tell you is this: the Kaiser Chiefs are going to be huge.

Not only is their song "I Predict A Riot" on heavy rotation on LA radio, but they've already garnered a good amount of success in their home country as well. We do love British boys here, don't we? Sadly, it was so packed I could hardly see and my photos speak to both my inebriated state and my distance from the stage and thus, inability to take a good pic.

After running into some people from the office and enjoying DJ stylings that offered The Faint, Le Tigre and Bloc Party successively, we departed for calmer, less sleek environs in an attempt to wind down the evening.

We stopped by a house party on the Lower East Side to have a quick beer, get yelled at for changing The Kinks to the Arcade Fire on the iTunes set up, marvel at the tall-dark-and-handsomness of one lead guitar player and have conversations we wouldn't even come close to remembering in the morning.

Does that read incoherently? I hope so, because that's exactly how I felt.

I think from now on I'll call it Overdose County

2005-01-14T11:09:00.000-05:00

So am I the only one who spied a bong on Alex's coffee table when she was breaking up with Seth last night?

Seriously, I even rewound my live TV...it was so there next to the Heineken bottles.

Hello? FCC, where are you? Drug paraphenalia? Underage drinking?

Josh Schwartz, fighting the good fight on network TV.

media symmetry

2005-01-13T11:10:00.000-05:00

Check out the new pitchfork!

Am I crazy? Or does it not remind you of the recently (and by that I mean 4 months ago) redesigned AMG.

Could Pollstar's relaunch be far behind?

rest in peace, Blacky the snail, rest in peace

2005-01-12T14:09:00.000-05:00

In the immortal words of Weezer: Say it ain't so-oh-oh-oh...

So, the radio station that ushered me into my musical (and actual) adolescence, 99.1, WHFS, has succumbed to the corporate media machine. As of noon today known as 99.1 El Zol (Siempre Fiesta!) the sender that brought us Kathryn Lauren (does anyone else remember that "Nose for Danger" song she used to play?), the Weasel and so many other interchangeable radio personalities that Ryan forced on my ears as we sat in the Tower Records parking lot in our Mom's red fiesta, will be no more.

From 90's Alternative to HFStivals and, yes, even on through the recent, top forty rock I'd been hearing so much on my trips home, WHFS was truly a DC institution and will be sorely missed.

Not since 105.1 WAVA became Christian Rock have I been so saddened by the loss of a radio station.

XM, Sirius...here we come.

Update: I hear that WHFS chose Jeff Buckley's "Last Goodbye" as their exit song, I can't think of a better one with which to bid farewell.

money for nuthin' and chicks for free

2005-01-10T13:31:00.000-05:00

So my first weekend back in the big apple in was pretty cool, sort of standard and totally comforting, all at the same time.

Friday evening I got home, snuggled up in my warm bed and watched Rosemary's Baby. Note to self: get cute Vidal Sassoon pixie cut like Mia Farrow, purchase cute sixties outfits like Mia Farrow, but avoid having first-born kidnapped by Satanists to further husband's acting career. (Matt, I'm talking to you.)

Afterwards, Adele came over, we had a quick bev and hopped in a taxicab to head down to Knitting Factory to meet Laura (who I hadn't seen in like, 3 weeks, seriously) to see Elkland perform. Well, two things occurred that soured the experience and one that likely improved it. Good news first: there was free Miller Lite so we were double fisting our drinks and getting mighty drinky for cheap. That's always a bonus.

But then, just as we were enjoying our (wasted) youth/drunkenness, these two tarts (not of pleasure) came up and asked if we could buy them some beers. Woah, did that make us feel old. I mean, they were surely like, 19 years old, but *still*... our days as young, cute girls primed for meeting bands and raising hell are totally numbered. We've got competition.

And finally, Elkland, I have to say, totally sucked ass. I mean, we saw them at CMJ and they were fun and dancey and totally awesome. But Friday night, well, they must've been off. The lead singer--whose name I haven't yet been bothered to learn--was sick, but still totally charicature-ish and so campy it hurt. Their singles "Apart" and "Summer is Over" sounded good, but when the singer did a backbend in the middle of a song, well, we knew the night was over. We didn't even stay to hear the end of the set, which, for us groupies, definitely says a lot.

I'm sure we'll see Elkland again sometime, surely even on MTV, but I don't think we'll be making a concerted trip out to a live show (for $10 no less) anytime soon.

Saturday I spent all day sleeping and watching West Wing dvds in bed. I did a bit of shopping only to dash home and prepare for Adele's big birthday night out. We had a super tasty dinner at TOC (Thai On Clinton) with 7 girls and one lonely but trouper boyfriend, Pete, where our topics of conversation ranged from how best to kill insects without touching them (Hillary is a genius, she put tupperware over a cockroach that crawled into her parents kitchen and stuck a post-it on it informing her Dad to please dispose of it properly in the morning) to what prescription drugs help with bikini wax pain. Being a girl is so much fun.

Next up was a jaunt to Local 138 where the music was great (nothing beats hearing "All These Things That I've Done" at 2:00 AM with all the girls you saw your first Killers show with), the drinks were cheap (my first VT--vodka tonic--was $5, and as the night wore on, they got progressively cheaper--like happy hour in reverse) and the conversation was plentiful. As I did the previous night, I stumbled home, stopping by my now beloved Rosario's, forcing Matt to chaperone my return via phone from LA.

Sunday? Well, Sunday I spent almost exclusively in my bed, watching lots of TV as well as Band A Part, which has perhaps the hottest non-erotic-yet-still-sexy seduction scene on celluloid, The O.C., West Wing, Alias and, yes, even Desperate Housewives.

I am so lucky to have you, DVR, so damn lucky.

Public Service Announcement

2005-01-07T13:41:00.000-05:00

I swear this is not, I repeat, *not* a Sam Endicott fansite...

BBC just announced The Bravery were tipped top of the BBC News website's Sound of 2005 poll as this year's most promising new act!!!

And I remember when the brave boys accosted Stills fans with demo CD-Rs outside last summer's Irving Plaza show.

We've come a long, long way together, haven't we?

los angeles, i'm yours

2005-01-06T01:56:00.000-05:00

So, I'm back on the easy coast (and by easy, I do mean "east" but the typo seemed cooler that way, so I left it.) I'm sitting in my bed shopping for new music and updating the 'pod with new selections, new purchases and newly discovered oldies (including the Kaiser Chiefs, Dandy Warhols, Frou Frou and M.I.A.) Since I was cut-off from Internet access throughout most of my trip, I've lost my grasp on most of the angles I intended to use for witty posts, life-changing events, relationship conundrums and possible future relocation.

What I can tell you is that it's great to be back in my own apartment, but it sucks that I'm still on West Coast time, so I can't really sleep. So, instead of going chronologically, attempting to recount each and every event of the particular day, I thought I'd summarize my week by throwing out a few random events, in bulletpoint form, of course, which will make things much easier. I'm more likely to remember these, um, memories this way anyway--as ephemeral, loosely strung together events as opposed to a cohesive itinerary-style recollection. Whatever, I'm lazy.

*It rained a lot, there was flooding in Matt's loft and, due to the concrete constitution of the building it was freezing...colder even that it was outside.

*Matt and I bought four different types of heaters at Home Depot, returning the first three in as many days before we found one that did even a half-assed job of warming us up.

*Walking on Melrose, in broad daylight, we spotted a tiny little bag with red stars stamped on it containing a mysterious white powder. We marveled, took a photo and kept walking.

*We went to a much-anticipated show, got shitfaced, left before the band we'd come to see even went on, only to wait more than an hour for a cab to pick us up at the 7-11 next door. There I purchased Funyons, Sparks, Powdered Donettes and Sparks, in that order. hell yeah.

*We spent half the trip driving around in Matt's car, most often either going to shop or find food, whilst arguing over whose iPod would be played.

*We bought music at Amoeba, we drank at The Chalet and we ate at Urth Cafe, among other LA type places, with nary an Olsen Twin (or fraction thereof) in sight.

*I spent at least one cumulative hour standing on line at various Coffee Bean & Tea Leafs for my beloved Mocha Blendeds.

*Did I mention we drove around a lot?

*Matt looked at the same West Elm catalog three times in row from each end. I shit you not.

*Matt, Hank and I spent time lounging in Matt's bed (the only warm place in the house) like an old couple, reading magazines, discussing decorating ideas and watching movies. Sometimes Alex would come cuddle, too.

*Matt and Alex went on an anthropological adventure at Le Sexe Shoppe near Matt's loft where they observed (from afar, of course) "preview rooms" with...wait for it...mops waiting to clean said "rooms." I have no words.

*We found an amazing gem called the Cheese Shop of Silver Lake. Go there.

*I hearted Silver Lake.

*I got a cold...in Southern California!!!

All in all, I'd have to say our visit was pretty low key. Words really can't describe the endless driving in Matt's car where Alex, Matt and I doubled over with laughter for hours (and yes, we were in that vehicle for hours on end). We laughed so much, my stomach still hurts...(All I have to say, Alex, is "manties!") So, I guess that's pretty much it, it sounds boring, I'm sure, but it was great to have such a long time to see Matt and do everyday things, even when running errands got annoying. I miss him, and even though I pined for NYC, LA is slowly (and by slowly, I mean at the speed of a fucking slug) growing on me.

But fear not, LES, I shan't desert thee...at least not for now.

honest mistake

2005-01-04T21:01:00.000-05:00

Well, I guess LA can't be all that bad. I just heard The Bravery on Indie 103 on the radio! OMG!

And plus, I've been driving around with Matt e-mailing on my laptop accessing all sorts of Wi-fi points. I mean, I know you can do that in most cities, but it's cool that I can do it while driving toward In-n-Out burger.

LA is like the ocean, but ugly

2005-01-04T13:44:00.000-05:00

Thanks to the graciousness of Mat's roommate, I am now back online avec wireless card, stealing the Internerd from their neighbors.

So, what of the city of angels? It's pretty interesting, and the neighborhoods and their inhabitants are as diverse as they are in NYC. The same way in which I rarely hang out uptown, I doubt, if I did ever live here, that I'd spend time on the west side of LA. They are some amazing stores, and you all know how much I love to shop, and the restaurants are kick-ass, but I think I'm getting ahead of myself.

I arrived Tuesday night amid torrential rains and an extremely unpleasant landing. I don't remember much of it now, thanks to my airplane medicine, but at the time I was freaking out. Long Beach airport is super small. It's teeny and cute, and Matt was waiting outside for me. We drove around for awhile in the rain, looking for food. We ran into a gigantic (by NYC standards) grocery store and I picked up some random snacks, if only to be able to select from the copious stock available for sale.

We got to Matt's new loft, which used to be a Columbia Records warehouse or some similar thing, and I proceeded to freeze my ass off because, living in Southern California, they didn't think they would ever need heat. Big mistake. Anywho, Matt and I exchanged Christmas gifts, all of which I loved desperately, but the coolest of which were a few stocking stuffers--limited edition, never released in the US Kasabian and BRMC CDs, posters, stickers, etc.

The next morning, we woke up (I of course, extremely early, due to the three-hour time diff), and went out in search of my favorite California coffee chain, so I could get my mocha blended. After a harrowing morning at Ikea, finding furnishings for Matt's spare loft, where, incidentally, we also saw Andy Dick standing on a coffee table with his three sons in tow, we went back to his place to put it all together and prepare for Alex's arrival.

After circling the nightmare that is LAX for hours and getting Alex, who sadly was not in the best of spirits--and will likely kill me for repeating this--because he was vomited on by a small child on his flight from Chicago, we spent another hour driving around looking for food before settling on Rally's. Terribly interesting for my first 36 hours in LA, I know.

But as we drove home on one of the many LA-area highways after the rain had, if only for a few moments, subsided and the sky was finally clear, I finally realized that with its millions of lights dotting the canyons and hilltops (and believe me, there is no break in the landscape of houses) I realized that, at night, this city is really pretty beautiful. It's like the lights on the ground are an apt substitution for the ones in the sky that are shrouded in smog.

Hmm, what started out as a compliment ended up sounding meaner somehow. I really meant that in the nicest possible way, I promise.

In other news...

2005-01-03T14:25:00.000-05:00

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, ADELE!!!

everybody's famous in LA

2005-01-03T10:09:00.000-05:00

Well, not really. I'm sitting at an effing Kinko's because I am retarded and the wireless card I bought isn't working. We won't go into why because it involves major stupidity on my part. I'll leave it at that.

So, since this is costing me, like, a $1 a minute, I'll keep it brief. LA is soggy, the food is great (helloo? In 'n Out burger? Coffee Bean? mmmmm, tasty.

Also, I have seen many more celebrities here than I did upon my last visit and here is what I've surmised: The celebrity is directly proportionate to the location in which they were sighted.

I present to you four examples:

Exhibit A: Andy Dick standing on a coffee table at Ikea, staring at Matt and me. Interesting, but not earth shattering.

Exhibit B: That kid having the illicit affair with the hot Latina, Eva Longoria, on Depserate Housewives at Falcon, this meatpacking district-type, cheesy ass, Lotus-wannabe club in Hollywood.

Exhibit C: Spaceland. NYE. Amanda Foreman who played the *awesome* goth roommate on Felicity and the supercute NSA computer hacker chick on Alias, who also married tech-ops guy Marshall Flinkman. Two of my favorite shows, one fabulous hipster actress. Plus, she was at the Autolux show, so she had to be cool.

Exhibit D: So we were sitting at this cute little booth at the excellent restaurant/bar Jones in West (v. v. important distinction, Matt says) Hollywood. And, as Matt runs out of the place to get some cash, he comes back to inform us, breaking news-style, that Rachel Bilson just walked in and was being carded at the door. OMG! Color me completely, insanely excited! Alex and I turn around only to see Adam Brody follow closely behind. Although we were desperately hoping they'd sit at a booth next to us, they chose a less conspicuous table in the back. But thanks to the mirrors all around, we could spy on them without obviously rubbernecking! How cute were they? Grabbing a late dinner at Jones on a rainy Sunday night!

Now, having seen the cutest teen-heartthrob couple as well as Benjamin MacKenzie at a Kill Hannah show and Mischa Barton eating at my now closed and formerly fave brunch spot, Paris Commune, I can die happy. Well, not really, but you get my drift. The OC rocks.

joyeux noel

2004-12-25T08:57:00.000-05:00

I love this whole weblog thingie. Here it is, days after Christmas, and I can post retroactively, thereby having composed this message on time in perpetuity. I guess that would mean I went back to the future or something.

In any case, Christmas is a truly great holiday. I mean, when else do you have an unnatural concentration of family members, all tearing up paper, arguing over politics and being so refreshingly dysfunctional? The stress of being piled on top of one another on a holiday when precious few stores are open, otherwise providing escape and solace from said family is really something to look forward to, isn't it? And then there's the harrowing experience of opening, giving and receiving gifts you may or may not have wanted in the first place. And don't even get me started on holiday sales.

So in that spirit, for some uplifting, dareIsay life-affirming?, music for the Grinches (but also for those of you with less of an inclination toward scroogeness) I give you the gift of "the top five singles of 2004 to best raise your spirits from bad to good to ecstatic, but not necessarily in that order." This list is also known as the playlist for: "when life throws you a curveball, put on your headphones and tell the world to fuck off while you listen to some inspirational music." Scowling is, of course, optional.

5. Ted Leo & The Pharmacists-Me and Mia

4. Arcade Fire-Rebellion (Lies)

3. The Von Bondies-C'mon, C'mon

2. Keane-Bend & Break

1. The Killers-All These Things that I've done

So I guess that's it for the top-fives for now. But knowing me, they'll make a reappearance soon. In any case, if you made a CD/playlist/compilation of all five of these top fives, I have to say, I think you'd have a pretty damn good soundtrack for your life.

Come on, ride the train.

2004-12-24T18:41:00.000-05:00

Well, apparently, I'm not as dedicated to this enumeration as I once was. This holiday has left me spent, completely exhausted and simultaneously pampered (champagne lunches with Dad, cocktails at the Hay-Adams before midnight mass--it is truly a charmed Christmas). But top-five lists have no expiration date and are fun any time of the year/day/hour, not just at Christmas.

And since I enjoyed a relatively painless train ride home, where I napped on the not too uncomfortable and low-lit Amtrak Metroliner train while listening to the 'pod, I offer for your consumption, as always in no particular order, a soundtrack of "the top five songs of 2004 made for long train rides."

5. Macha-Smash and Grab

4. The Delays-On

3. Kasabian-Test Transmission

2. Secret Machines-Nowhere Again

1. Sea Ray-LaLaland

Honorable mentions go out to Interpol's Next Exit, Jem's 24 and The Faint's Southern Belles in London Sing, depending on your mood, which for me, on the train, is generally pensive with a side of internal drama. Whatever that means.

"I'm waiting on a subway ride..."

2004-12-23T13:20:00.000-05:00

Well, it's day four of the seemingly endless (if by endless we mean Saturday) top-five lists. It's not a pretty day across most of the continental United States...winter weather is complicating travel plans for many, and in NYC it's "pissing," as the Brits like to say. So, for today's roundup, I present to you a little mix that, when used properly, will remind you that NYC is an amazing place to live. Where else can you marvel at the beauty of urban life, listening to these songs, of course, while doing totally quotidian things like riding the subway, buying milk and window shopping?

So here 'tis: "the top five tracks of 2004 that remind you how awesome (New York) city life is." Recommended dosage: one of these will do the trick on the headphones, but create a playlist if you're feeling really bad, particularly if you're bogged down by the one-two punch of bad weather and holiday uncheer.

5. Mike Doughty-Ossining

4. The Walkmen-Thinking of A Dream I Had

3. Whitey-Just Another Animal

2. Spiritualized-Lay Back In the Sun (Single Version)

1. Sea Ray-Revelry

We'll always have Paris.

2004-12-22T13:46:00.000-05:00

It's no secret to anyone that at times, this has been a tough year: lost elections; poorly run campaigns and um, lost elections, have, on occasion, left us pretty blue. And, for me personally, much to my chagrin, this year has brought with it a sad goodbye, a long-distance relationship and way too many airplane trips.

Which is why for today's top-five list, I offer you "the best singles of 2004 that best suit goodbyes." Please note these generally work best when heard while walking away or blasting loudly on a car stereo. Imagine standing in front of a train, smoke swirling around, frost on the windows, a trenchcoat-clad, dejected individual waving goodbye to someone in the car, a single tear rolling down her cheek and turning to walk through the masses of unfeeling, unknowing travelers...alone.

The visual is really just optional.

5. Keane-Somewhere Only We Know

4. The Decemberists-Los Angeles I'm Yours (I think this is more a personal jab at the city of LA, which I refer to as a slut)

3. The Streets-Dry Your Eyes

2. Snow Patrol-Run

1. The Stills-Let's Roll

"my boy" rocks.

2004-12-22T13:30:00.000-05:00

So, In my hasty posts yesterday, I forgot to mention probably the sweetest voicemail I've received in years.

Dan called to let me know that "blog" had been announced by Merriam Webster as the word of the year.

I think I'm going to cook up a cocktail in Dan's name. It will be the most expensive cocktail in the world (because Dan is classier than all y'all), have more kinds of liquor than a Long Island Ice Tea (he's from Chicago, people!) but still go down as smooth as a shot of vodka on a cold day in St. Petersburg. It will be called "The Dapper Dan" and only he, I, the bald peanuts and the very, very brave will partake.

You're my boy, Dan.

rumpshakin' action for the intergalaction

2004-12-21T10:49:00.000-05:00

This morning's top five singles of 2004 list goes out to every girl who shakes her ass in her underwear as she picks her outfit, puts on her makeup and has a cocktail while getting ready to go out to a show/date/bar/club. And that's all I have to say about that.

5. The Streets-Fit But You Know It (or alternately, the mash-up of the same name featuring The Futureheads)

4. Interpol-Slow Hands

3. The Faint-Symptom Finger

2. J-Kwon-Tipsy

1. Franz Ferdinand-This Fire

Honorable mentions go out to: Jay-Z's 99 Problems, Moving Units' Birds of Prey and The Departure's All Mapped Out. Bloc Party's Banquet is excellent, too, but more on the iPod as you walk/train it to the show/date/bar/club.

bonus round.

2004-12-20T15:27:00.000-05:00

Every month on eMusic, a bevy of excellent music critics contribute columns on the varied independent artists and genres available for download on that fine website for music enthusiasts.

Since I've been concentrating on a lot of new-nouveau-faux-revivalist-post-punk-new-wave-modern-rock-synth-poppers here (I like it, so sue me) I thought I'd clue you in on Douglas Wolk's column for this month on the subject. It's very apt, and invariably gives us a bit of a history lesson on these rockers' antecendents and, as always, a link to download them!

Enjoy.

xo,
ME.

T-minus Five

2004-12-20T13:06:00.000-05:00

So, kids, here we are, just about five days until Christmas (four if you're snobby or European), so I'm awash in shopping, baking, card-writing and packing. Sadly, this leaves little time for posting witticisms on the blog, but fear not, I would never leave you (three or four) unsatiated.

As you know from either personal experience or previous blog references I have a soft spot in my heart for making lists. Lucky me! It's that time of year where know-it-all record store clerks, rock critics, music lovers and, oh, yeah, bloggers make their year-end "best of" lists. And, I am certainly no exception.

So, on each of the next five days counting down to and on Christmas Day, I will be posting top-fives with various me-appropriate themes for your enjoyment, criticism, etc. Feel free to post your own top-fives in the comments section.

Today's, in no particular order, is: "my top-five songs of 2004 best suited to accompany cooking, baking, scrap-booking and other domestic, crafty-type activities."

5. Modest Mouse-Float On

4. Phoenix-If I Ever Feel Better (Live)

3. The Delays-Long Time Coming

2. Jem-Just A Ride

1. The Bravery-Public Service Announcement

Live from New York...

2004-12-15T13:47:00.000-05:00

Arcade Fire tickets for Bowery Ballroom on February 1, 2004 are on sale here.

*update* this show has been moved to Webster Hall in case you haven't gotten tickets, although I imagine it's still pretty sold out.

Or, you could always see them at Irving Plaza on February 2nd.

Good Lord, it's getting difficult to attend a show around here.

goldilocks was average

2004-12-15T13:25:00.000-05:00

Ok, let's be honest. There is no way I can recap the remainder of this weekend appropriately because I am currently in a haze of sickness. So I will provide you with two statements and therewith have dispensed with the details.

1. Bill roasts a mean goose
2. Ted Leo is punk rock
2. a Ted Leo's got smarts
2. b Ted Leo is hot (see 2. a)

So, there you go. This time of year, you'll find quite a few top five and top-ten lists of writers/bloggers/people's favorite albums/shows/singles of 2004. As an avid listmaker, don't think I'll spare you from mine, but I'll save that for later.

However, I did come across this very funny article in Spin by Chuck Klosterman on his top-ten accurately rated artists. Read it.

Speaking of top fives, High Fidelity is defintiely one of my favorite movies. This article from the Los Angeles Times highlights those wacky record store clerk/owner-types so brilliantly portrayed by Jack Black and that other guy who's name I can't remember but who was also in Jerry Maguire.

club foot.

2004-12-15T10:07:00.000-05:00

I love tour updates. I love 2005 tour announcements.

Besides the ubiquitous-but-as-yet-unconfirmed rumor about Arcade Fire playing two shows in NYC on February 1st and 2nd there are so many amazing shows coming up in the new year. My new year's resolution will certainly be to see as many as possible "live music is my passion" and all.

But this morning's great news comes, as it often does, from Mother England. Kasabian have just confirmed their 2005 US tour plans and, yes, they're coming to a city near you. Here are a few relevant dates.

02/17/05 New York, NY Irving Plaza
02/18/05 Washington, DC 9:30 Club
02/19/05 Philadelphia, PA Theatre Of Living Arts
02/23/05 Boston, MA Paradise Rock Club
03/02/05 Chicago, IL Metro / Smart Bar
03/07/05 Seattle, WA Neumo's
03/11/05 San Francisco, CA Slim's
03/12/05 Los Angeles, CA Music Box At The Fonda

the soldiering life.

2004-12-14T10:24:00.000-05:00

Before I find the time to recap the rest of the weekend, which included a holiday feast at Bill and Carl's and Ted Leo at Bowery and my fun-filled sick day spent watching West Wing reruns in bed, I wanted to give Matt/Alex and all the other Decemberists fans a heads up.

I think I've said before that for me The Decemberists is Colin Meloy, so you can imagine that I'll be front row at one of his shows on his upcoming solo tour. Pitchfork reported yesterday he'd be playing songs of his new EP Picaresque as well as some Decemberists tunes and perhaps even some covers. The first time I saw him, his version of Morrissey's "Every Day is Like Sunday" blew me away, so look forward to more of that.

01-13 Seattle, WA - Triple Door
01-14 Portland, OR - Doug Fir (w/ Joe Haege of 31 Knots)
01-16 San Francisco, CA - Cafè du Nord
01-17 Los Angeles, CA - Hotel Cafè
01-18 Los Angeles, CA - Hotel Cafè
01-19 Chicago, IL - Schuba's (w/ Shelley Short)
01-21 Arlington, VA - Iota
01-22 New York City, NY - Fez (w/ Amy Annelle)
01-23 Cambridge, MA - TT the Bear's

between us and them

2004-12-12T19:31:00.000-05:00

It's Thursday night, it's absolutely pissing outside and I am singing in the rain, as it were, on my way to see The Bravery and Moving Units at Bowery Ballroom. It sort of feels like I go there at least once a week these days. Phoenix last Wednesday, Moving Units Thursday and Ted Leo tonight.

But let's get back to Thursday. I've been listening to these two bands pretty much nonstop on the iPod in preparation. Sadly, Adele couldn't make it because she was sick and had to prepare for our office holiday party--which she so expertly coordinated--on Friday. But as usual, I'm getting ahead of myself.

Laura and I get inside, dry off and go upstairs when we hear the unmistakable "Honest Mistake" play. One thing that's pretty evident about The Bravery is that they're fan base is basically made up exclusively of young, hot females. A note to the single boys out there: if you want to pick up a girl, put on some black nailpolish, a thriftstore polo and drop by a Bravery show. You will not be disappointed.

They played all the hits and the songs that will be on their new album they're recording for a major label. I would call them the next Killers, but without the Mormonism. Their live show has steadily improved and, as a self-appointed expert--I've seen them four times since June--I think it's safe to say they'll be on MTV and playing in the Nordstrom's Brass Plum section any day now.

For those of you wo haven't yet heard them, now's your chance. You can buy their Unconditional EP on iTunes or, hopefully, in your local record store.

So, I had no cash on me and I really needed a drink before the Moving Units went on, so Laura and I dropped by the bar quickly. Now, here's the thing: I totally intended to just grab a vodka tonic and go back upstairs. And there, but for the credit card minimum at the bar, went my sobriety. Through no fault of our own, Laura and I consumed, like, 3 rounds in one so we could get back upstairs and I could start dancing to the show and we could stalk the Bravery boys who were reveling in the attention lavished by those hot (Laura might say slutty) girls I mentioned a few sentences up.

2004-12-12T18:32:00.000-05:00

So, the Moving Units took the stage and I took my regular place at the right, which is generally where the bassist plays. There was a bit of a false start there, as technical difficulties--the singer accidentally unplugged his mic--threw the band off. But they came back and rocked the crowd with their new wavey, dance punky tunes. I can't quite remember what song they started with, only that I was in the bathroom when I heard my favorite track off their new record "Birds of Prey," so I rushed upstairs just in time to catch the drummer get out behind his kit and bolt to the front of the stage and dance wildly, dareIsay drunkenly, to the fucking amazing breakdown in the middle of the song. Wow, do they make the young kids dance. These boys know how to get the crowd moving.

All I can say about Moving Units is that, yes, they are so early-80's post-punk and they're definitely revivalists, but I love them nonetheless. And, thanks to them and The Rapture and their contemporary counterparts, Gang Of Four can get together and make a few mil doing a reunion tour next summer. It's not our fault we were born 15 years too late. So there.

They played a short set, or maybe the audience just wanted more. They also brought out some of the old favorites from last year's EP like "X and Y" which is such a great track, so I was pleased with the show even though I could've heard 10 more songs. I'll definitely be seeing them again.

Laura and I went downstairs to retrieve our coats and get ready to leave, we did have work after all, and we tried our best to be groupies. I have to say, we just don't have it in us. Call it cowardice, self-respect or even good "bandfearing" fans, but our myriad opportunites went unrealized as we stood in the corner and watched the brave boys from afar.

And by the way, I am so crossing my fingers that we run into a one Mr. Sam Endicott in some bar or on a lonely LES streetcorner so that Laura is forced, FORCED! to deliver on her promise. That is all.

oc-by-the-second

2004-12-09T20:34:00.000-05:00

Um, OMG?

They just played Phoenix and The Faint in, like the same breath on The OC!

Wow. I am floored. Like lineoleum.

the time has come

2004-12-06T16:32:00.000-05:00

Shit! Have you guys heard the new Chemical Brothers track "Galvanize?" It's awesome! Their new record doesn't drop until mid-January, but you can buy the pre-release now on, you guess it, iTunes. You can also stream it from their astralwerks homepage where the curious will find all sort of info on guest apperances (in addition to Q-Tip on "Galvanize," they've got Mos Def's brother, Bloc Party's frontman and many more) on their new offering, "Push The Button."

die arcade feuer

2004-12-06T16:05:00.000-05:00

Tomorrow is record release day! Yay! And you better not care about Lindsay Lohan's new CD, you perverts. ( I refuse to link to her, that slag!)

In celebration of Tuesday, December 7th, The Arcade Fire is releasing an until-now-only-available-at-their-shows single, "No Cars Go," on iTunes. But for you extra-special readers of the kmouse blog, it's available right now! (Ok, fine, anyone can buy it right now, cut me some slack, kay?)

Also, tomorrow marks the re-release of Mike Doughty's double CD Skittish/Rockity Roll. You should already own both of these, but if you don't, buy them tomorrow and I'll forgive you.

HOORAY BEER! Click here to watch one of the bestest commercials ever! (Click on the first one from left).

closer to god.

2004-12-06T10:49:00.000-05:00

Yesterday, Adele, Laura and I saw Closer, the new Mike Nichols film. I call it a film because it's more than just a movie, more than just an opus, or whatever, it's a thesis, really, and absolutely fantastic.

The title obviously teases with a storyline about intimacy, and to be sure, this is an extremely intimate film, one about knowledge (biblical and otherwise) but it certainly isn't a close one.

Without giving too much away, because I encourage every one to see it at some point, this movie is about two couples whose lives are inexorably linked. Joined by love, sex and inevitably betrayal, it takes us through their relationships as voyeurs…distinct from the action, completely aware of our enjoyment as peeping toms--like any cinematic experience--and yet totally entrenched. Never once did I forget I was sitting in a theatre with friends and strangers and I enjoyed looking in, just like I do when I see strangers fighting in public (admit it, you do, too). The alienation brings us closer.

But I'm getting off track. This is supposed to be a movie about sex, right? Well, yes and no. The thing is, I've always sort of thought that in the grand scheme of things, sex isn't really all that intimate. Our puritan heritage might dictate it as such, but the truth is, sex can be pretty remote. It's more complicated than that obviously--sex, though de facto intimate, seems to divide and conquer, turning strangers into lovers and lovers into strangers. And in Closer when revealed, it's the inside jokes, the nicknames and the private moments, not the physical betrayal, but the emotional one that causes the most pain.

Afterward, I couldn't stop thinking of the Nine Inch Nails song "Closer:"

you let me violate you/you let me desecrate you/you let me penetrate youyou let me complicate you/help me i broke apart my insides/help me i've got no soul to sell/help me the only thing that works for me/help me get away from myself/i want to feel you from the inside/i want to fuck you like an animal/my whole existence is flawed/you get me closer to god

you can have my isolation/you can have the hate that it brings/you can have my absence of faith/you can have my everything/help me you tear down my reason/help me it's your sex i can smell/help me you make me perfect/help me become somebody else

through every forest, above the trees/within my stomach. scraped off my knees/i drink the honey inside your hive/you are the reason i stay alive

In the end, for me, these stories are about the complications sex and love (and their interactions); the carnal vs. the civilized; love vs. lust, etc. Closer, both the film and the song, gives you proximity, just not intimacy.

The one complaint I have is that this is a purely masculine take on love and sex, a sophisticated, accurate one, for sure, but definitely "male." The women are mostly bystanders, their view isn't just absent, it's ignored. Even as the plot focuses on the women's emptiness, their lonliness, it never allows for their experience. The male characters are wonderfully developed, they're complex, covetous, vulnerable on multiple levels and they're real, which is maybe why they're so selfish. So egocentric, they leave no room for anyone but themselves.

In any case, all this posturing aside, I highly recommend this movie. And although I can't count it as one of my favorites, it's too real, too painful for that, it's definitely one of the best.

PS: Clive Owen definitely gives Jude Law a run for the money in the sexiest man department.

hipster bar crawl

2004-12-06T09:06:00.000-05:00

So, this weekend was a pretty standard mix of events, except for the fact that it's effing freezing out there! Or at least it was on Friday. I don't think that temperature-wise it was that much cooler, just that finally, the holidays are here (and I'm realizing how broke I am) and winter is substantiating itself--much to my discontent.

But anyway, this is supposed to be about drinking, right? Friday night involved several stops, including Jeffrey's for his nightcap, my initial cocktail (I'm beginning to wonder if Jeffrey will ever again dance with me to Kylie, Madonna and The Smiths), after to Laura's around the corner (I love Stoli Raspberry) and then it was off in to John and Luci's loft kegger on Canal. There I ran into many Lang/Parsons kids from the BML era (before Matt left) and had some of what Luci calls "the good beer," a/k/a Newkie or Newcastle Brown Ale. (yeah, I know you could care less, but it's what we professional bloggers like to call filler ;).)

Then we trudged along Canal trying to find the bar that eluded me all night. I mean, who knew that Orchard street extended beyond Delancey? Ok, I did, but the alcohol haze sort of erased that. After Laura ran into a -ahem- friend in front of 13 Little Devils and we met up with the Pete posse, I left to find a slice and get out of the cold. People, may I alert you to a major oversight in the East Village? There are no, I repeat, no pizza places between Houston and 1st Ave and my apartment! I was stuck stopping my the deli on 4th and 2nd and had to make due with a bag of Doritos guacamole chips and a coke. This is NOT a greasy slice of pizza! Can someone please fill this void? Must have pizza at 3AM, MUST!

Saturday night was jam-packed with events. First, Lily and I met up to go to the Tribeca Grand for the semi-weekly Fixed party. Lily makes life so easy. Instead of waiting on the ridiculous line, we glided right into the door as hotel "guests," made our way downstairs and somehow magically gained entry into the studio. It was almost too easy. Drinks were plentiful, the DJ played bloc party (yay) and around 12:30, the crowds started pouring in for the live show at 1AM.

Let me just say, that Whitey is probably one of the bestest performances I've seen all year. Sure, that may have been the vodka tonics talking, but somehow, I don't think I was the only audience member to feel this way. Let me share with you some information I've found on these lads. First off, Whitey is mostly Nathan J Whitey, who is a sort of modern day, art/music world renaissance man, he dabbles in music, graffiti and performance art. Basically, he's the boy you'd bring home to your parents if you wanted to piss them off.

He's recorded dozens of records, but the Whitey album "The Light At The End Of The Tunnel Is A Train," (how tongue-in-cheek of him) has gotten some solid reviews. Sadly, like The Departure EP I've been coveting, it's not available here, but you can order the import off Amazon. Whitey often performed at the infamous Trash Club in London, where the mash-up craze (see: The Strokes vs. Christina Aguilera; Jay-Z vs. Nena; The Streets vs. The Futureheads) originated. Whitey is probably most famous for debuting the Kylie Minogue vs. New Order mash-up that, because of its huge success in Mother England, Kylie herself later released. Jeffrey can probably tell you more than I have on this, but he isn't here, so this'll have to do.

So, back to their show. It was awesome. That's really all I can say. Nathan J has the erratic and haunting stage presence of a latter-day Ian Curtis, but their sound is entirely new, almost a dark housey-synth rock I can't quite pinpoint. For all of those electroclash fans who also enjoy a good house track mixed up with some Joy Division and Gang of Four, this is the band for you.

Actually, Whitey is really what The Rapture once promised but never delivered on. You can bet I'll be shelling out the extra bucks for the import CD. Plus, the band was cute in that pained intellectual/starving artist kind of way, which in my eyes, is a style that can do no wrong.

After this jaw-dropping experience, Lily and I planned on heading over to Misshapes where the band and Spikey Phil (the sometime Grand doorman) was going to be playing some CDs. Beforehand though, we stopped by The Darkroom to have a drink. The place was definitely happening and we probably would've stayed had the room not smelled all too much like VOMIT. Ew.

So we made our way over to Luke & Leroys where we assumed the place would be crawling with underage NYU students reveling in the smoker-friendly environs and overpriced drinks. Alas, it was empty. Phil started playing, but we were spent. Too old and too jaded, we got a slice and headed home. Suffice it to say Misshapes is o-v-e-r and the Grand is back in business. At least at the latter I don't feel like, at 24, I'm the oldest person in the room.

Also, there is something wrong with leaving one bar (darkroom) as they were playing "Take me Out" and arriving at the next one (misshapes) only to hear the same song again. But maybe that's just me.

Flight of The Phoenix.

2004-12-02T09:16:00.000-05:00

After work last night, I scrambled down to Bowery Ballroom to get tickets to see Phoenix, the bands first-ever New York City appearance, which with one sold out show tonight, added last night's performance to their bill to effectively exploit the LES' francophile factor.

Well, let me just say: mission accomplished.

This sold-out crowd was a group of every kind of downtown hipster you could imagine, with a seemingly unprecendented equal female-to-male ratio. Ahead of us (more specifically uncomfortably stationed in front of Adele) were the Williamsburg contingent, complete with bangs and birdsnest hair; to the right of us, were blazin' hip hop devotees; to the left were the French jeune filles and their garcons literally dying of excitement and shaking their derrieres every which way imaginable.

And the music? I was definitely sold. Thanks to Alex, who will be seeing them in Chi-town Sunday, I made sure I experienced their live show, um, live. "Run, Run, Run" the single Alex sent me was a laid back, Sunday-morning-paper-reading kind of tune and didn't properly convey the energy of their live performance. Besides totally working the crowd and singing with them--not at them--the band is completely into their music and all about the improv, the uncontrolled of the live show.

Their ballads were made for movie soundtracks (being French, love stories would be their forte, case in point, Lost In Translation) and their more upbeat offerings are made for rump-shaking action. No shit.

2004-12-02T09:15:00.000-05:00

The thing is, I can't shake the deja-vu feeling that I've seen a band like this before. Maybe it's the fact that Phoenix clearly have so many wide-ranging influences, from 70's rock and etheral pop to go-go and hip-hop. No, that's not it either, let me take you back to 1994 when I went with my girls to DC's Black Cat to see this little-known funk-pop revivalist band called Jamiroquai. Yeah, I said it, Phoenix sound like Jamiroquai.

But perhaps like my experience with Jamiroquai, as I stood up there, marveling at the showmanship and sheer energy exuding from Jaye Kaye in a tiny little nightclub, as joints were being passed up to the stage, that allowed me to experience the pure, unadulterated calm of this performance.

Last night, it wasn't just about my experience with the show, but the whole audience seemed to completely love it--it was all of us in the experience together. And when everybody left, we felt just a little bit lifted, and a lot happy.

rumors, innuendo and a killer lineup.

2004-12-01T15:28:00.000-05:00

Coachella. It inspires happiness in the hearts of music lovers everywhere. Like SXSW, I've never been, but I hope to change that, especially considering this off-the-hook, effing amazing lineup that's been leaked or rumored, depending on how you see it.

I've also been alerted to the likely possibility of Gang Of Four headlining (from a trustworthy source), which wouldn't be out of the question, especially considering The Pixies winning slot at Coachella 2004 (Ryan has the live recording, if anyone is interested.)

Anyway, here's the unconfirmed, purported lineup (y'all know how we love gossip, round here.)

April 30:

David Bowie, Nine Inch Nails, Coldplay, PJ Harvey, Interpol, The Faint, Franz Ferdinand, Polyphonic Spree, Boards of Canada, TV On the Radio, Yeah Yeah Yeahs, Squarepusher, Clinic, French Kicks, Secret Machines, Phoenix, Beep Beep, Dogs Die In Hot Cars, Death From Above 1979, and The Helio Sequence.

May 1:

R.E.M., Tears For Fears, Wilco, Bright Eyes, Jimmy Eat World, Mos Def, Badly Drawn Boy, The Streets, Cake, The Shins, Sleater-Kinney, Rilo Kiley, Radio 4, Doves, Iron and Wine, The Arcade Fire, and Moving Units.

I, of course, have already seen David Bowie and Nine Inch Nails together (David Bowie's entrance includes a duet with Trent Reznor to "Hurt.") and a good amount of the other bands as well. And even though festivals aren't really my "thing," I could be pursuaded to make a trip out to LA and then drive to the desert for a two-day show of this magnitude. Most definitely.

Sanctioned Gluttony

2004-11-29T14:21:00.000-05:00

So, I'm back at work after what we can henceforth affectionately refer to as the tryptophan bacchanal. Of course my family, not content with the status quo holiday dishes, couldn't just make due with the usual bird so we had to include a glazed ham and a goose to make Thanksgiving appropriately festive. Add to that a dozen desserts (pumpkin, lemon and cranberry-apple pies, pumpkin and chocolate cakes, ice cream, etc.) and the annual face-off for which one of my brothers gets to eat the slice of canned cranberry sauce with the date imprint (this duel was sadly called off due to the fact that there was seemingly no expiration date to this gelatinous mass of holiday compote) and some alpha-male-competitive fervor around the Trivial Pursuit game board and you've got a recipe for one enjoyable, albeit slightly dysfunctional, family gathering. (yeah, my team totally won the Trivial Pursuit tournament.)

My supercute nieces were there, which was a bonus, except that toddlers tend to rise pretty early, and when you're stuck surfing the couch because you're the baby in the family and all the bedrooms are taken, it's sort of hard to get sleep with two little girls wreaking havoc in the kitchen at seven AM. I outfitted them with eMusic t-shirts, and the rest of mi famiglia was jealous. I never thought adults could be envious of a toddler's outfit, but I guess there's a first time for everything.

Oh yeah, we were at the beach in North Carolina, too, and could scarcely leave the house! So our drama, exhaustion and family bickering was that much more magnified. (See photo from our rented house above.) It was so exhausting, I didn't even have the energy to drink. So, I guess I had a mini detox this week, which might explain why I actually feel somewhat rested. What sucks, though, is that I'm still broke, so I think I'll go back to drinking. At least then I'll have an excuse for why I have no cash, and then I can feel like a degenerate instead of a failure.

But family squabbles and stressful holidays are a dime a dozen. There are so many great flicks I recommend (The Ref, Home For The Holidays, even Home Alone for crissakes) that might make you feel just a little bit better about your family's melodrama during the upcoming winter gift-giving orgy.

In other news I am unbelievably jealous of Alex, who managed to somehow finagle himself tickets to Arcade Fire on Thanksgiving night in Chi-town. How he did it, I don't know, but he confirms they were unbelievable. An excerpt:

"The Arcade Fire was amazing. Even playing in the equivalent of a high school gym (with similar acoustics) they sounded great, and I've never seen a band put on a show like that. We were touching the stage right in front of the keyboard on the left side. The girl next to me got hit in the face with a drumstick (Ed. note: that is, like, soo punk rock!) that flew out of the hand of the guy that looks like napoleon dynamite. "

"I think that there is something compelling about that little keyboard/accordion, singer girl. I was standing close enough to grab her leg if I had wanted too, and when she looked at me when she was singing, I don't know, I can't really describe it. she freaked me out a little, but not necessarily in a bad way."

I keep missing all of the great shows! Kasabian, Arcade Fire...at least Adele and I will be front row at Keane--two freaking months from now! I guess that's what it's come to: you have to plan months in advance to get good seats at your favorite show.

So, this post has been pretty damn boring, huh? The two-week hiatus has left me a barren blogger.

Now I understand why all those cewebrities are always out getting shitfaced, it fuels the creative process. Riiight.

How Could I Forget?

2004-11-23T19:36:00.000-05:00

Another funny thing about Jeffrey's fab party: I was chatting up Alexa on her Thanksgiving plans, when she said she wasn't much looking forward to going home. Where's home? I naturally asked, and she replied she was from the DC metro area. No way! I answered...Me, too!

So after myriad realizations we hung out at the same places during the same period of time and knew a lot of the same kids (just not each other) I had a flashback to Middle and High School (a little odd) and the music we used to listen to. See, in between squeals of delight, for which we were (appropriately) taunted, we rehashed days spent at Caffe Northwest in Georgetown and even moreso, nights spent dancing our troubles away to Mohawk Adam's musical whims at Tracks and Capital Ballroom. It was a bit strange to realize that Alexa and I, having met ten or twelve times, never made the DC connection as most people from there usually do, even though the whole "small-world" thing is pretty ubiquitous now.

Anyway, the point of this vignette is to turn you all on to a band that reminds me quite a bit of these stolen nights (um, yeah, I snuck out, a lot--I mean, occasionally, or once...) is The Faint.

Their newest offering (they've had a few) Wet from Birth totally conjures up nights of sober-yet-still-intoxicating dancing at Tracks and driving in my car to Sheep On Drugs, but with a modern, non-embarassingly gothic sound.

Anyway, without Laura taking the first leap and bringing this over to my place, I probably never would've given them a second listen. But now, I can't stop listening to "I Disappear," "Southern Belles in London Sing," "Paranoiattack" and "Symptom Finger." I can't help but hope that one night at Tribeca Grand, Misshapes or The Darkroom the DJ will hit me up, DC-goth-club-style with a little bit of that industrial sound I (still) keep close to my heart.

absence makes the heart grow fonder

2004-11-23T19:10:00.000-05:00

So, contiuing my attempt to catch up with almost a week's worth of blogging (c'mon, I know you guys missed me a little bit) I will regail you of tales that are so mind-numbingly banal, you'll realize your life isn't so bad. Warning: this definitely involves drinking.

Friday afternoon I high-tailed it to Midway to get my fill of Potbelly's subs and oatmeal-chocolate-chip cookies . Oh yeah, I also caught my plane back to LaGuardia after four fun-and-food-filled days in Chi-town.

As most of you know, I am not a big fan of air travel, but that makes life fun for everyone but me, since I am generally pretty sedated before and after I fly (however, not when I'm flying, because I am so panicked no amount of horse tranquilizers could calm me). So, when I stepped off the plane at LGA, I was in pretty high spirits (yeah, guys, pun intended) so I rolled myself home in a cab, got dressed and floated over to Laura and Adele's for adult beverages.

Those girls, always so sweet, they totally paid attention to my digi-cam slideshow as dutifully as if it were their own grandparents' roadtrip through every US national park, by which I mean, they had little interest (except perhaps in my boys) but they humored me nonetheless.

We managed to make it over to the Darkroom (if you don't yet know what that is, see below) and had some drinks, danced to Moving Units and Bloc Party (obligatory on the turntables, for the next month anyway) and had an all-around good time.

Approximately five hours after the last drink, I woke up to go to the sample sale to end all other sample sales. I was still exhausted but walked away with two slutty (read: LA appropriate) tops, some pants and a supercute necklace. I love shopping, it rejuvinates me like a bacon, egg and cheese cures a hangover. After a few more stops with Laura and a total "must" brunch at Mogador, I went home, fell asleep and woke up to darkness. It was relaxing and prepared me for the evening ahead, but I still always feel like a degenerate when I sleep too long. Je digress, though.

Next up on the to-do list was Jeffrey's birthday cocktail hour(s). Happy Birthday, Jeff! So weird, it almost feels like it's someone's birthday every day!

Anywho, that's the birthday boy and Jillian on his couch in the photo, enjoying one of Jeffrey's famed cosmopolitans. Seriously, I have never had a better cosmo than J's. After at pitstop at the pre-Thanksgiving turkey feast at Degan and Jess', I finally made it home to sleep. I can't even tell you how nice that was. MMMMM...sleeeep.

I (don't) heart New York

2004-11-22T16:38:00.000-05:00

Um, yeah. THIS is what's wrong with New York, or at least the New York Post. This bar has been open about 3 minutes, which apparently the lifetime of "cool" in this city. I like this bar, it's nice without being pretentious; sleek without being expensive and the DJ plays the songs I like once in awhile. Also, there's no ridiculous door policy, except that they stop letting people in when it gets too crowded (hey guys, safety is cool!). Here are some choice quotes:

"It's where B-level rock stars mingle with pals, nestle on banquettes or hide out in a corner of the back bar sipping sundowners long after the sun has gone down." Nu-uh, she didn't just call The Killers, The Walkmen, Interpol and The Raveonettes "b-level."

"Shamlian, whose brother owns four bars in L.A., wanted to open a bar here that was a step above a dive bar - but just a step. Baron's hooked into the New York rock scene, and all the rock dudes and dudettes drop by for a few nightcaps. " That was real crafty, Mary Huhn, the way you referenced his LA-association by dropping in that frequently used vernacular "dudes and dudettes," because that's how the "rock kids" talk. Also, it's so nice to see that "journalists" on right-wing-media payroll are capable of euphemistically referring to something as a "nightcap," when you really mean binge drinking, recreational drug use and junkies--Did you see them milling about as if they were idling at a WASPy, Upper East Side wet bar, Mary?

Oh yeah, this one brings it home: "Centrally located on the Lower East Side (the new Williamsburg)," yup, she said it: "the new Williamsburg" read: the new, new Lower East Side, or the new, old East Village.

And finally: "The rooms have that certain je ne sais quois - chill and cozy, thanks to shadowy lighting, low-hung ceilings and comfy banquettes," if that doesn't sound like a decorator selling Heroin chic, well, then I've lived in new York too long.

Also, this article Laura sent us deserves it's own entry entirely, but the New York Post, as it has done and will continue to, sucked the life out of me.

We will become (holiday) silhouettes

2004-11-22T13:59:00.000-05:00

Two pieces of music news worth mentioning today.

The first, for Ryan and Matt: Apparently, Sub Pop is releasing a four-song single of Postal Service's "We Will Become Sillhouettes" with a bunch of (okay, 2) remixes. Read about it here.

The second, for Laura and all OC watchers: Pitchfork reports The Walkmen have recorded a Christmas Song. Yeah, weird, right? You can download it for free on their site.

I'm not quite prepared for holiday cheer, drunken or any other kind.

Do I offend?

2004-11-22T13:24:00.000-05:00

Dear Lemon Tree,

It seems I may have perpetrated an unfortunate, if unintended crime, for which I have chosen to profusely, and quite publicly, apologize. I never meant to hurt you, dear lemon tree, and I understand you're in quite a precarious position, having only just relocated to colder, Midwestern climes, you are at the mercy of fluctuations in temperature, and my greeting was certainly of the cooler variety.

I must say, there is little I can do to mend this fence, and I'll have you know that your caretaker, Daniel, has appropriately conveyed just how disgraceful my behavior was, so, until I may return to the Windy City and in person apologize once more, I dedicate to you this (slightly amended) poem by a great American poetry writing lady.

I think that I shall never see
A poem lovely as Dan's Lemon tree
A tree whose hungry mouth is prest
Against the carpet's sweet flowing breast;
A tree that looks at the godlike, state-of-the-art TV all day,
And lifts her leafy arms to pray;
A tree that may in winter wear
A nest of holiday lights in her hair;
Upon whose bosom "snow" has lain;
Who intimately lives with rain.
Poems are made by fools like me,
But only Dan can make a Lemon tree.

But seriously, Dan takes care of his lemon tree with all the love in the world. And he has the cleanest bathroom belonging to a boy I have ever seen.

We’ve come a long, long way together

2004-11-22T10:56:00.000-05:00

Well, I’m back in the big apple, even though the gusty Chicago almost uprooted me and bowled me over. I realize I haven’t posted in awhile, so I’ll be updating quite a bit before I leave for the tryptophan bacchanal tomorrow night.

The conference I helped organize was a huge success, and despite the exhaustion and stress-induced haze, I came out relatively unscathed. Hung out with some nice people, talked about good shows. All in all, probably the coolest conference ever attended.

And although my poor friends must continuously listen to me rave and pine about Chicago street food (hot dogs, sandwiches, etc.) I managed to visit just one of my favorite fast food haunts, and that was Potbelly’s at the airport. Instead, I sampled some of the fine haute cuisine Midwestern cosmopolitans have to offer and this is what I’ve found: Chicagoans love to share. I ate at buffets and two, not inexpensive family style sit-downs. At Mia Francesca we had a private room and a never-ending supply of not-for-the-carb-conscious Italian. Then we ate at what Alex tells me is one of the hottest new restaurants in town, China Grill. This spot was definitely geared toward the business-lunch set, because by 11:45, the place was packed. Tasty, but not overwhelming.
After a cocktail party at Schubas, the In-laws took me to Rise, where I ate so much sushi, I thought I might explode like a poor bird after a wedding procession. Then, after a grueling drive downtown, where we witnessed a fender-bender and perhaps even took a wrong turn and ended up on the highway, I realized it is possible to live somewhere for 20 years and not know your way around.

I found Alex and Dan in their amazing non-bachelor pad, um bachelor pad, and they welcomed me with open arms and a cocktail. Such good hosts. They took me to the Four Seasons, where Daniel’s ex may or may not have been baking in the pastry kitchen (not, we soon discovered) and Dan, as always, ordered a veritable feast of appetizers—especially since it was 11:30 at night. I enjoyed a few chocolate martinis and, as always, Dan and Alex reminded me how awesome they are. I mean, is there anyone in the world who is as obnoxious and offensive as Dan, yet who still steals my heart every time I see him? His unbridled generosity is flooring, and not as in linoleum. And Alex, a boy after my own heart. He’d be a catch for any girl…(cough-wink-nudge-hint). He’s smart, cute, worldly and most important, brooding.

Also, a note to the Four Seasons: Bathrooms are excellent, but could we rethink the Mapplethorpian flower arrangements? Seriously, I know this is the meat market for Chicago debutantes and investment bankers (they loved Dan’s Puma warm-up jacket in the "drawing room," btw) but could we lay off the phallic symbolism here?

On Friday, Alex took me to Japonais. OH MY GOD. Soooo good, we even had a cocktail for lunch. Thanks Alex, thanks Leo!

Is Chicago, Is not Chicago?

2004-11-17T08:36:00.000-05:00

For those of you wondering: I am alive. I survived the horror that was the one-and-a-half hour flight from LaGuardia to Chi-town.Surely it was providence--not modern engeneering--that prevented our vessel from spiraling to the earth below amid fire and flames.

I am awake, I am working and it's raining. I thought there would at least be snow or something.And I do have to admit it's strange sleeping in Matt's childhood room without him (although last night I could've slept comfortably in a dungeon, if you know what I mean).

Anyway, back to work. (Um, helloooo what is it with The Killers becoming background music for morning news shows? Just heard it in Chicago, too!) Must prepare for the myriad food stops I have to make (Jimmy John's, Ed Debevic's for fries?, Twisted Spoke, Fresh Choice)

So much food, such a little girl.

///Test Transmission\\\

2004-11-16T13:50:00.000-05:00

So I'm off to Chicago to finally deliver on this job I was hired to do. No, this has nothing to do with blogging, drinking, projectile vomiting or dislocating my jaw, this is bona fide business.

I am psyched to get to Chi-town and eat my way up and down Lakeshore Drive (Potbelly's, Weiner Circle, et al.) But what I'm completely bummed about is missing the Kasabian show at Bowery Ballroom that I've been anticipating with white-hot heat since they announced the show, what, 2 months ago?

Anyway, if you don't yet know Kasabian, you soon will. Managed by Matt's friend Grant, also friend to the awesome BRMC, Kasabian is the next big hipster thing out of the UK. I have had their self-titled debut on repeat for months now and can't get enough of it. With tracks like "L.S.F (Lost Souls Forever)" they appear to be paying homage to Joy Division while clearly drawing major influence from mid-nineties dance music. "Club Foot" also reminds me of that amazing hit Battle Flag by Low Fidelity Allstars, still one of my favorite party-starter songs. "Test Transimission" is a trancey, loungey track and "Reason is Treason" is not just a great dance song but a revolution starter, to boot.

If you don't believe me, check out this week's flavorpill.

Adele and Laura will be out in force and they have my ticket in case anyone is interested in going in my stead. (Adele, if you don't take photos and review the show for the bloggy, I WILL kill you!)

So, I highly recommend you record The OC and head for Bowery Thursday night. For some ungodly reason, tickets are still available.

And, oh. This is their only--i repat--ONLY show in North America until next year. So, if you go, you can say: I totally saw them before they hit it big. Yeah.

"you’re weightless, semi-erotic, you need someone to take you there"

2004-11-15T13:16:00.000-05:00

On Friday night we trudged through the freezing rain (ok, we took a cab) to Hammerstein Ballroom to see Interpol.

After watching some evil doorman tell a frustrated young lady she wouldn't be allowed to bring in her digital camera-she'd have to go home or leave it with a doorperson-I was mildly horrified at the prospect of having to do the same, but Adele and I (cleverly having transported ours in makeup bags) breezed through security without a hitch.

We climbed about forty stairs before taking our seats in the 2nd mezzanine and shelled out a ridiculous $10 for a mixed drink. Unbelievable. Calla was the second opener and they did a great job, although the kajillion-dollar sound system did make them sound a bit like Pearl Jam, as Laura so aptly pointed out. Anyway, almost 45 minutes later, the lights finally went down, and Interpol took the stage to a roaring crowd.

2004-11-15T13:00:00.000-05:00

They opened with "Next Exit," and the lyrics "Ain't goin' to the town, we're goin' to the city" seized the crowd by storm while also seemingly paying tribute to the band's NYC breeding ground. It struck me also, since with a capacity of 3000, Hammerstein was in and of itself a (v. v. v.) small town. I have to admit, I couldn't help being surprised that there were so many Interpol fans; it's sort of mind-boggling to see the physical representation of record sales and the vast enumeration of fans.

But more than that, it felt weird to see a band like Interpol, whose songs can be so intimate and often lonely, in such a huge venue. Later, when we retired to the Dark Room-which was apparently the site of the impromptu afterparty, for fans, not band members-I commented that I felt it was sort of a Brechtian performance. So much fuss with all the lights and sound, but so far removed from the singers themselves that I was a bit alienated from the whole thing and the rest of the audience. I loved hearing them live, but, I could have easily closed my eyes and been on the subway, listening to my iPod.

All in all though, it was an awesome experience. A total assault on the senses. And even Adele couldn't keep from laughing when "Slow Hands" came on and I began the obligatory descent into my bouncy dancing.

Once at Dark Room there was so little to prevent me from dancing even more. Bloc Party, Moving Units and Arcade Fire were shining moments in an otherwise disjointed DJ set.

The night was made complete as Adele, Laura and I felt the onslaught of annoying hipsters who were dancing obtrusively, bloggers networking and then, of course, there was Theoderick dressed in what can only be described as a yeti costume. A sweater of such moldy, woolen arrogance only he could pull it off.

My Heart's On Fire

2004-11-11T11:36:00.000-05:00

What's the deal with Canada? They're churning out hot new bands like they think they're New York or the UK or something. I mean, I know they're responsible for Avril Lavigne, Alanis Morissette and music's very own anti-christ, Celine Dion, but good lord, do they have some amazing kids up there.

We all love The Stills, even if they are a little over. And who can match the (well-deserved) breakout hipster superstardom of Arcade Fire? And closely trailing them are The Hidden Cameras, who are opening for them tonight at Bowery Ballroom, probably the most sold out downtown show in recent memory (and let me tell you, I tried everything holy to get into that one, but no dice).

But you know all of this. I am here today, to tell you to jump on this Canadian bandwagon forthwith, because with my very recent discovery of Wolf Parade, this Maple-leaf-phenomenon is officially a revolution.

I have heard each of their, like, 6 songs once and I am ready to call them my new favorite band. They are *amazing.* And, get this, they are so cool, they don't even have a proper website.

Wolf Parade appeal to my teen-angsty obsession with all things gothic, without charting into cheesy-graveyard-goth territory. Echoing The Arcade Fire's Funeral theme is music you could read a Bronte-sister novel to, or maybe even an Anne Rice Vampire Chronicle, without being painfully, well, melancholy about it.

And with song titles like "Dear Sons and Daughters of Hungry Ghosts" (which you can download here...), Wolf Parade fills me with an unparalleled love and longing for barren cliffs, seaside manors, candelabra and unrequited love. But in a hip way.

You can stream their EP here. And while the sound quality isn't great, with song titles like these, who needs liner notes?

*Modern World
*Wits or a Dagger
*Secret Knives
*Dinner Bells
*This Heart's On Fire

A Day Late, A Buck Short.

2004-11-10T13:22:00.000-05:00

So, I was so busy "working" yesterday, I didn't have time to post that it was Fantastic Andrew's birthday. But that's ok, because apparently, it's kind of like President's Day, which is always "observed" on the following Monday of those dead chiefs birthdays. Whatever, he's celebrating on Saturday and now as I will then, I wish him the happiest birthday ever.

But WAIT, there's more.

His invite/friendster post is the funniest I've read in awhile. Also, honest. Samples include:

"I'm posting this on the official day of my birth, but you should all be aware that my birthday will not be observed until this Saturday. I'd like to say that attendance is optional, but it's not. Show up or you will NOT pass this class. Also, show up ready to party, or you will only receive partial credit. There WILL, I repeat, there WILL be drunken debauchery.

DON'T bring presents. If you're feeling generous, buy me drinks (sic) or boys.

If I don't see you, I will kill you."

And yes, FANTASTIC ANDREW is his real name. God.

A Grand Don't Come For Free

2004-11-10T09:12:00.000-05:00

Mike Skinner, our fave Brit rapper (ok, Dizzee's better) has recently admitted to having gambled much of his fortune away. Drinks + Lines + Pills + Gambling = bad idea, mate.

That's ok, Mike, dry your eyes. I'll ease your pain.

'Cuz I'm on Fire...

2004-11-09T13:20:00.000-05:00

I don't proclaim to be a music aficianado, much less the go-to gal for first-break news on developing artists (there are plenty of blogs for that) but I can safely say that I am a music lover. A lover of music. An audiophile.

And, for what it's worth, I am recommeding you listen to Bloc Party. The thing is, many hipsters have been trumpeting this revivalist group of lads for quite some time, even playing them for the revelers at various hipster parties (misshapes, snitch, whatever), so I can safely say I am way behind on this discovery.

But, again, I am a lover of music, and I love Bloc Party. Yes, we've heard this kind of music before, in the late 70's, early 80's, but I was in the womb and drooling then, and my ears were less attuned then they are now. I can't stop listening to the "Banquet" remix and "The Answer," so I got pretty excited when I read on Pitchfork today that they were releasing an album on Valentine's Day--a band after my own heart--albeit it only in the UK (playing hard to get, I see).

Also, if you're in Europe, you can see Bloc Party when they open for Interpol in December.

Useless, waste of time and therefore, awesome

2004-11-08T14:08:00.000-05:00

So, Matt sent me this uncanny e-card and even though it reveals my "secret identity" and makes me look ridiculous, I thought it was so excellent I couldn't help but share it with the four of you who read this silly blog. Also, it expires, so the archive won't haunt me forever.

Go here and commit mischief and mayhem by uploading images from your vast library of homemade "fine art" and enter your own text to make the photos say whatever you want. As Matt might say: "put the 'r' in retarded," as it were, per se.

I am hereby soliciting links to your own creations in the comments section. (Ed. note: be afraid, be very afraid.)

Heroin is so passe

2004-11-05T13:30:00.000-05:00

Don't forget that the much-applauded rockumentary DIG! has its TV premiere on the Sundance Channel tomorrow, November 6th at 9PM.

Next weekend, as part of their AMPED series, the indie channel is airing 24 Hour Party People, the flick that charts the path of Modern Rock by way of Manchester.

He melts in your mouth...

2004-11-05T13:00:00.000-05:00

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, CUPCAKE.

Today is Alex's 25th birthday. Please congratulate him on his ability to rent a car. Also, it's now officially gross for him to hit on any girl under the age of 20.

Deliver us from evil

2004-11-04T10:15:00.000-05:00

Pitchfork today reveals that The Postal Service's ongoing dispute with the, um, postal service, has been amicably, albeit bizarrely, resolved.

"...part of the deal involves the possibility of Postal Service tunes being used in USPS ad campaigns and promotions. In turn, Sub Pop is considering, under the auspices of their newly minted licensing deal, using local postal outlets as distribution points for Give Up. Additionally, Tamborello and Gibbard will be tapped to play a gig at an annual USPS conference. No, we are totally not kidding. Stop laughing. If you're somehow fortunate enough to legitimately attend this conference, or crafty enough to impersonate one of the 800 senior executives who will be present, please do us a favor and bootleg that sucker. Surreal events like this one don't happen every day, and they must be documented for posterity."

The Blue-Light Birthday Special

2004-11-03T11:16:00.000-05:00

In honor of Laura's birthday...

...I present for your enjoyment, a (not un-blurry) blue-lit Hamilton Leithauser. (Or should it be Light-hauser?)

Have heart, it's your birthday!

"WHO ARE YOU IF NOT, NOT ME?"

2004-11-03T10:02:00.000-05:00

Ok, so I've overcome the momentary catatonic state and have realized that, at some point or another, there must be catharsis. There must be closure. We do live here after all, and we will continue to, as we did for the last four years, because that's just how it is.

When life hands you "W," you make lemonade (with VODKA!).

That being said, there are some of us on the Internets who haven't lost hope. Mike Doughty, my own personal poet laureate of the Lower East Side, took a photo of the vote he cast, as he announced he had signed a record deal and would be releasing a new album, (ed. note: YAY!) and then just this morning opined that a Kerry defeat could be that which mobilizes the masses--a la 1968, I'd assume--and quotes lyrics from his Future Soundtrack of America offering "Move On:"

"Down in the mouth and not half-right/But I can feel a change is coming on/Bloom like a flower in bluest night/Bloom like the sunlight in my song."

dispatches from the front, or is it the back?

2004-11-03T09:49:00.000-05:00

unable to speak in full sentences.stop.possibly choking on own vomit...or tears.stop.no sleep, nightmares--bushy kidnapping my uterus.stop.SOS.stop.

From the Annals of Wasted Youth Comes...

2004-11-01T20:49:00.000-05:00

Welcome to Weekend Update with Tina Fey and Amy Poehler, no wait, it's just me. Weekend Update with me. Yeah.

So Friday night, Adele, Laura and I caught The Walkmen show at Webster Hall. Now, it's important to note that I think Laura has been waiting for this particular show her entire life. I say this because her adoration of The Walkmen is truly innate. I mean, it's as if she's been feeling this passion forever and finally found lyrics, melodies, a voice and, most important, a name--Hamilton--to embody this.

(If you aren't yet familiar with The Walkmen, you should be. Their first album--which includes "We've Been Had" a great song which was featured in a Saturn commerical and likely brought the band boatloads of licensing cash--is available for download on eMusic: click here. Their second outing, "Bows and Arrows" is equally good and brings us tasty tracks such as "The Rat" and "Little House of Savages.")

So, Hamilton has the most raw, energized yet unassuming stage presence I've witnessed to date. He's clearly emotionally and physically invested in these songs. The lyrics are painfully revealing, and when he sings, he's so entirely focused on the expression of sublimated rage that it's almost like he's unconscious. And he sort of pulls you into the feeling as much as the music, but he isn't arrogant about it. Plus, he's all dressed up like a vagrant preppy, which is just totally to die for.

He did keep staring off into the distance between songs and we all wondered who he was looking for, and secretly hoping it was us. (Duh.) Laura kept saying that she couldn't imagine being one of the girls he wrote a song about, and, as we left Webster Hall (actually not such a bad place to see a show), we all voiced our desire to one day be said a girl as we went out for drinks. A few too many vodka tonics and a Rosario's slice later, we dispersed in preparation for the great Halloween festivities.

After spending most of Saturday looking for last minute costume accessories (can someone tell me why no one makes yellow tape?) I headed over to my friend Liz's sister's birthday party for champagne and cake. Then I joined Mustafa, Britney, Cleopatra and Rhythmic Gymnast at Adele's place for costume changes and vodka drinks.

Then it was on to Happy Endings for Rose's AsFour-themed event, where we saw Jeffrey as a chess board, Lily as our favorite lip-syncher Ashlee, Yi as Kimora Lee and Alexa as a skeleton. The most popular costume by far at this event was Chanel-kingpin Karl Lagerfeld, as Jeffrey apparently saw, like, five of them. Creepy.

Next, Cleo, Mustafa and I headed over to the West Village for an insane house party featuring kegs, vodka bevs and jello shots. Apparently, it was also set up for Adele's very own episode of "This Is Your Life" as she encountered elementary, middle, sunday and high school friends, most of whom were drunk. That's even weirder than five Karl Lagerfelds.

Soon the troops filed in from the BK and some of us went home while the more adventurous, dare I say reckless? high-tailed it down to the Tribeca Grand for the DFA Halloween party. Ok, so we missed LCD Soundsystem and I realize it was *technically* 4 AM (although with DST ending it was actually 3), but there was no one there. I mean, I thought hipsters knew how to tough it out. Alas, we had a drink, danced to the Daft Punk remix of "Take Me Out" (I have no idea how I remember that), jumped in a cab and went home.

Funny thing about getting home at 3:45 in the morning. On occasion, you have some difficulty opening the front door to your apartment. Sometimes, you even go around back and try desperately to climb the fire escape and sneak in your kitchen window, without success. Then, you call your friend, who, by the way, has been sleeping for an hour, and, despite her own intoxication manages to talk you through properly inserting the key and pushing on the door, finally achieving insurmountable (read: vodka-soaked) odds to crawl into your very comfortable, forgiving bed.

This is all hypothetical, of course. It's not like it ever actually happened. (Um, yeah. Thanks, Adele)

Sunday I watched nine (yes nine) full episodes of the West Wing. I also ordered a pizza.

:::Lucent Listening:::

2004-11-01T11:36:00.000-05:00

For once, I feel like I'm one step ahead of the music game. This summer, while "discovering" new tracks on eMusic, I came across this amazing song by Macha, called "Smash & Grab." While I wasn't totally blown away by all the other offerings on their new record "Forget Tomorrow," I was instantly, unequivocally attracted to that track--waves of beats washing over in various states of sound, the ephemeral competing with the eternal, pulling you back-and-forth from the current to the always.

OK, that's probably the worst description ever, but this song is amazing and it's one of those compositions that accurately reflects every shade of mood you could have, from the euphoric to the depressive. You can download it from eMusic here.

I admit, I got a little lost there. But my point was, for once I feel slightly ahead-of-the-curve, because Pitchfork reviewed the track today, giving it four stars and saying:

"And then the song drops out. And then it comes back in. And then all of a sudden it's a monster fucking jam, a dense, psychedelic, swirling, polyrhythmic boa constrictor of a song. It's autumn music. It's music custom-built for staring out dirty train windows in Massachusetts in fall, blowing warm air into your hands. "

Not quite indie rock, not quite electronic, but both at the same time, this song isn't just a must-hear, it's a must-have.

I heart Josh Lyman.

2004-10-28T14:30:00.000-05:00

So, we all know that next Tuesday is incredibly important. Need I elaborate? I think not, but for those of you who may not be on my wavelength, I'll tell you why: the third season of the West Wing is being released on DVD.

If you have a minute or two to kill (and if you're reading this, clearly you do), this game is funny enough to hold your attention while you wait for the latest poll to tell you what we already know, that President Bartlett is totally going to win.

Wait, he isn't running? He's -gasp- fictional? Shit.

Well, go out and get the West Wing DVD anyway so that if that other guy wins a second term, you can throw back a few vodka tonics, pop in the DVD and pretend--as I plan to--that the chief we're hailing is a diminuitive actor named Ramon Estevez.

Quick, hide! It's almost November 2nd.

2004-10-27T17:32:00.000-05:00

Maybe I'm in a social commentary mood (ok: MK, I'm glad you're back in New York and thanks, Gawker, for giving me the impotant news), but this was a totally rad essay in this week's Village Voice, by Hua Hsu, who besides being a Harvard student, is also Hip-Hop columnist for eMusic.

In it, he writes about the American citizens' engagement in the thing Americans like to think is their defining and superior characterisitc: choice.

"It's a commonly held misperception that Americans don't vote. Americans love to vote. The problem is that we vote for inane things. We vote on competing but really conspiring blends of Coca-Cola. We vote on who we believe will win the World Series or whether a given coach bungled a crucial third down. We vote people to the zenith of prefab pop stardom, often over the objections of bona fide talent scouts. We vote on issues of other people's matrimony and during the commercial breaks, Internet providers and cable music video channels mainline election-year imagery and jockey for our 'votes.'"

Choice, it's a funny thing. Americans are, in fact, always voting for something, and it seems like, while there are always third parties, commerce increasingly nudges us toward a two party system: Coke or Pepsi? McDonald's or Burger King? Ok, maybe that's a bit simplistic.

But I do feel a lot like in this campaign, I'm being forced to choose between candidates whose politics are fundamentally not all that different, they just employ different advertising agencies. I mean, yeah, obviously there's no question which is the one for me: Burger King, all the way!

So, Senator Kerry, can I get fries with that?

Memory, History and Kitsch

2004-10-27T16:11:00.000-05:00

The New York Times ran an interesting article (click here for the full piece) regarding the debate to tear down Berlin's Palace of the Republic (Palast der Republik), situated in former East Berlin. After World War II, the East German Communist Government tore down the badly damaged Stadtschloss, which, as the palace of the Hohenzollern monarchy, stood for 3 Centuries as a symbol of Prussian superiority and might.

In the 1970's the East German government built the Palace of the Republic as a monument to the East German people, and most important, their party.

After the 1989 reunification, it was closed due to Asbestos contamination, and, as reported in the Times, has been at the center of a great city- and nationwide debate. Is it merely an eyesore, or a reminder of the oppressive East German goverment? Should it be demolished, symbolizing the end of that system and a testament to the new, modern Germany?

What I find so interesting is not only the prevalent desire to tear down the building, as the physical structure represents the transmogrification of socialist ideals, but also the appropriation of the space to represent modernity. As in, using the building to exhibit contemporary art Communists would have found repugnant. It's interesting that we are unable to let monuments to bygone political systems stand in their original context, untouched, and let it speak for itself (see also Eastern European countries tearing down Soviet monuments after the Iron Curtain fell). They must be destroyed or redefined as nostalgic or antique, to prove that, in this case, East Germans have moved beyond their past.

As if the reunification of the two countries wasn't enough.

"And I...said the Bachelor to the Bride"

2004-10-27T12:20:00.000-05:00

I've been getting quite a few surly comments from the peanut gallery, which, for once, I totally love. But, apparently, I've been remiss in my mentioning of and posting for a very important person. So, without further ado, I dedicate this post to Matt, because he really hearts The Decemberists.

Pitchfork has news on The Decemberists forthcoming album here. For those of you (not unlike Matt) who are too lazy to click on the link, I will tell you two things. First, Pitchfork reports that this is their most ambitious record yet. Colin Meloy previews:

"The record is more ambitious and dynamic than anything we've done to date; subject matter includes, but is not limited to, Portland male prostitutes, Spanish child princesses, Cold War spies, joint suicides, injured soccer players, the ghost of a dead barrow boy, a mourning sea-widow, politico celebrities and cannibals." And that's not all! "A shining moment of the record will no doubt be the 8½ minute long 'Mariner's Revenge Song', which is, in essence, the monologue of a man who has been swallowed by a whale and has there met his arch-nemesis. Hi-jinx ensue."

Any summary that ends with "hi-jinx ensue" is ok in my book. But I would like to comment that, for me, Colin Meloy is The Decemberists. The first time I saw them live, the band was excellent, but it was his acoustic, solo encore of Morrissey's "Every Day Is Like Sunday" that sealed the deal for me. I might catch some heat for this, but Colin Meloy is to The Decemberists what Morrissey was to The Smiths. Again, my humble opinion.

Shameless plug: you can download the Decemberists album on eMusic. Click here.

Holy Colorwheel, Batman!

2004-10-27T11:47:00.000-05:00

Woah. How pissed am I that I already have an iPod? Well, not that much, since it's welded to my ears more than my cellie is these days. Details.

Anyway, click here to check out the new iPod Photo.

Pricey, but who wouldn't want a color screen? The U2 special edition is kinda whack, though. I love the color-combo, but am not so interested in the engraved sigs and the pre-loaded "bomb." (That's the actual title, BTW, not a colorful reference to the upcoming album's position on the charts.)