1. Harvey Keitel showed up. I peed in the bathroom with him. He left shortly thereafter. 2. Two fights broke out, one at the bar and one in the lady's room. 3. The was a line going down the block and someone called the cops. 4. I made some money. 5. I used Serato for the first time, which cemented my idealism that DJ SOFTWARE = GOD. 6. All of our friends left their bar tabs unpaid.
All in all, a success. We plan to repeat the entire ordeal next Saturday night, and the next, and so on until they ask us to never, ever come back.
I think I'm coming back to LJ. This may have something to d with me finally getting a permanent living space and an internet connection. It will all be boring, "personal" stuff though, for the music, please refer to Disco Nap. Shit's tight.
Kal Penn is gay, or at least likes fucking guys, Nick and I have living proof.
So, this is what it has come to. My thirst for obscure French psycho-dramas has become so all-consuming that Netflix has resorted to shipping my DVDs from Denver. If you're not into François Ozon, you should really check out his movies, starting with 8 Femmes (8 Women), Swimming Pool, Les Amants Criminels (Criminal Lovers), Le Temps Qui Reste (Time to Leave) and Sitcom. Here's a short he made in 1994, Action Verite (Truth or Dare).
Fucked up shit.
On another note. If anyone ever tells you that being sick is fun, they are lying. Don't listen to them. My head has felt like it was made of bricks since Saturday, and my stomach refuses to cease its relentless gurgling. I deeply regret hauling my decrepit carcass into work today.
Finally, if you haven't picked up the latest issue of Vice you should, because they finally got around to printing something worth reading: the Ficiton Issue. Loads of cool stories, from the likes of Neil LaBute, Chuck Palahnuhik, Richard Hell, etc. I know, I actually read a copy of Vice! Out of control.
I'm not doing anything for the holidays, except hanging with friends and watching movies. I'm going to post a proper list on Disconap, but my #1 album of the year is Putting the Days to Bed by The Long Winters and my #1 single is "Let's Make Love and Listen to Death from Above" by CSS. this will probably change by tomorrow though.
The Kooks were fun last night... though, it would have been a litle bit more bearable without the hordes fo screaming 16-year-olds. But really, can you blame them. Going again on Saturday, stay tuned on 'Sup and Disconap for more to come. When the record first came out, I kind of fled due to an overbearing resemblance to Razorlight (a band I'm am still 100% certain no one has ever heard) in style, but their songs are just really catchy Police-like pop. Enjoyable.
So last night I went to an event sponsored by Hennessy, where Goldfrapp, the Strokes and Kanye West were performing. We get there and it's pouring rain outside, security dudes are yelling for everyone to close their umbrellas, but of course the cast of Laguna Beach or whatever whores were there didn't want to get their hair wet... it was the most ridiculous carnival. By the time Goldfrapp's manager snuck us past the velvet rope, we were in dire need of some free cognac. And I must say, Hennessy brought it. Didn't get too wasted though, unfortunately. Something about cognac and whiskey takes me longer to get drunk than with vodka or even beer. Maybe it's the musky hue, or something.
Anyway, Goldfrapp went on and stepped shit up as usual, though the crowd of older industry "types" and aforementioned models were kind of indifferent at times. The gays loved it though. The wolf-headed, bikini-clad dancers got everyone excited finally, and all the songs were awesome, even when the sound was getting screwed up during "Ride a White Horse".
The Strokes were next, and quite frankly, Snoozefest 2006. The Is This It tracks stood up, but seriously, what is UP with this band? They need to go back to ripping off Tom Petty yesterday. The talk of the night was Nikolai's RIDIC new mohawk, which only reinforces my theory that at the end of the day, the Strokes have impacted fashion way more than they have music. The 40-year-olds loved it though. NEXT.
Actually, there was no next, as I wasn't even about to stick around to watch Kanye West get onstage and try and bend over far enough to kiss his own ass--though from what I hear, Pharell showed up to do that for him. I did run into Mandy from 2MandyDjs, and macked on some chocolate-dipped strawberries. I hope I don't sound jaded--or rather, I hope I am not jaded. It's just hard to get worked up sometimes. I am excited to see the 'Frapp again tonight, and next week is the Kooks! Possibly Ben Kweller on Saturday as well. Yay!
While I was on the 6 train home, a crackhead/schizophrenic/maniac set a newspaper on fire and dumped it out the window of the moving car.
Saturday, JP, Abbey and I drove down to Baltimore for the very first V Fest in the United States. It was pretty fun, despite us getting out photo/press passes mislaid and/or stolen, being severely dehydrated and underfed, and braving masses of seriously unwashed hippies. Remind me to never leave New York state EVER AGAIN.
That said, the highlights were: *Seeing the crowd that Wolfmother pulled so early in the day: even though I'm not a HUGE fan of everything they do, at least they're getting somewhere. *Gnarls Barkley, this time dressed as Roman gladiators, and the magnificence that is Cee-Lo Green. *THE FUCKING SCISSOR SISTERS. The new songs are amazing, it was almost as good as the Siren performance, and the crowd were totally into it, and NO HIPPIES BECAUSE THE WHO WERE PLAYING AT THE SAME TIME! LOL @ JP calling Pete Townsend Peter FRAMPTON. Babydaddy totally brought the 5 bears in Baltimore right to the front of teh stage too. PRECIOUS
The downsides: *Missing New Pornographers :( *The Red Hot Chili Peppers. Clear evidence that God has given up on planet Earth. *Keane pulling out :( x 10 *It being in Baltimore :( *The Greyhound bus ride back at 12am. Still not sure I survived.
So, Sunday was my 22nd birthday, otherwise known as the final milestone of becoming an adult and seriously not giving a shit anymore. I was kind of freaking out, for various reasons, BUT all that changed when eight of my favorite people joined me for birthday brunch at La Palette, now officially my favorite franco-brazilian fusion eatery in the West Village. BAGUETTE FRENCH TOAST! Onika brought Magnolia cupcakes too. Bliss.
Afterward, O. came up to the Boogie Down to check out my new digs, and was suitably impressed. Then, in a very close game, sat back and watched her ass get whupped at Scrabble! My best play: FLITTERS on a TWS, 86 points. You thought this day couldn't get any better, could it? WELL YOU ARE SO WRONG MY FRIEND.
I headed down to Zen Palate for birthday dinner with Nicole and Leslie, my very, very favorite workin' girls. I stuffed my face with battered sweet 'n' sour soy protein (for those of you who don't live in NYC, Zen Palate is a vegan pan-Asian place by Union Square, and the only vegan place I will ever eat from). After dinner, Leslie suggested we run around the corner to the Nitzer Ebb show and watch the goths. We did for a while... and then I was like wait up, except for one little mimosa at brunch I have had no alcohol all day! Let's hit up the bar bitches!
Ran upstairs just in time to meet Eric, Nitzer's manager, who is all shades of awesome and hooked up the drinkies. Motor went on next, and I must say, every time I see them it just gets better and better. When they played "King of USA", everyone in my immediate entourage joined in on the chorus "I'M BLACK!/I'M GAY!/I'M KING OF USA!". It was a moment.
Then... NITZER. OMG. The second best show I've ever seen at Irving (in case you're wondering, the breakdown is 1. Erasure, 2. Nitzer, 3. Mogwai). My friend Than showed up just as they were going on, and he is a MEGA FAN. Seeing the show with him was half the fun. The band were on the top of their form, every song sounded amazing, and fucking hell, sexiest show I have ever seen. The highlights were "Join in the Chant", "Lightening Man", "Murderous", "Fun to be Had"... I could go on and on. They have a female percussionist on this tour named Kourtney, who was the fiercest bitch I have possibly ever laid eyes on... blonde pompadour and all. Douglas and Bon (who composes music for Project Runway... I know, how could it get any better) were like two giants onstage, D. prowling and running around. After the show, did some shots with the band (photographic evidence of aftermath ABOVE!) and slurred as many compliments as possible.
At this point walking is kind of a challenge, but Than got a text from the sound guy at Rodeo Bar saying that Jeff Tweedy was playing a secret show there at 2am. So we jump in a cab and go... and after that it's all kind fo a blur. I remember eating nachos, taking a bus (in Manhattan? WTF?) and getting home (kind of). The next morning it took me four hours to brush my teeth and shower. AWESOME!
Arye: Every nitzer ebb sounds the same Arye: Its like, easy guys Cameron: That's the point Cameron: To sound GAY and ANGRY Cameron: And BARK PROFANITY at the WORLD
And of course this flu/cold/tropical-NyQuil-resistant-illness had to ravage my body the week the Long Blondes are finally in town. Not that What's Your Rupture have been answering my emails or anything. I'll probably drag my ass to Cake Shop on Sunday though... I don't think I would survive Don Hill's tonight.
Yesterday WAS NOT the day to put Hatful of Hollow on repeat while riding the subway. NOT THE DAY.
But it was the day to mournfully listen to the Shop Assistants.
Don't forget to check Disco Nap for me and Kris' inane ramblings about buzz bands and Project Runway.
I just had a huge-ass meal and a few "Lower East Siders" (Jack and cream soda) at Mo Pitkins, and I'm a little fucked. So I had to go home and emo it up.
Speaking of, has anyone read Miss Modernage's new blog, SoMoreScene.com? I cannot deal with the funny. If Fobsession wasn't so Gestapo I'd totally lurk it all day, and laugh and laugh and laugh.
EDIT: SERIOUS LOL at LJ spell-check not recognizing the word "emo".
Ok, I haven't updated in just about two months. Apparently LJ now has ads. Definitely time to pack up shop and move my shit elewhere. How "incidental" that I have chosen to do so with none other than our good friend kristinars! We've started a new blog entitled Disco Nap, which can be found here. It's a baby, but hopefully it will grow into an evil little girl who throws people off the side of cliffs, like in The Bad Seed. So anyway this journal is probably going to be boring and "personal" form now on, maybe with some pics when I get a new camera. Report to Disco Nap for all of the pop happenings and things of hat nature.
Mid-year top 5: 1. Nelly Furtado - Loose 2. Forward, Russia! - Give Me a Wall 3. I Love You But I've Chosen Darkness - Fear is On Our Side 4. Morrissey - Ringleader of the Tormentors 5. The Futureheads - News and Tributes
Albums that would make it into my top 20 had they been released this year and not last: 1. The Spinto Band - Nice and Nicely Done 2. Panic! at the Disco - A Fever You Can't Sweat Out (shut up and fuck off).
Albums that would be on my list if they existed: 1. Larrikin Love 2. Jamie T 3. Monkey Swallows the Universe
People I want to "bugger off": 1. Lily Allen (though I will probably like her again next week) 2. Pete Wentz
So I have a shitload of work to do, and I shouldn't even be on this thing, but the prospect of Coop's face in my box was too overwhelming to not broadcast to the world. And speaking of anticipation, who else is jacking off to the idea of VH1's Supergroup? Though I'm not a huge fan of Vh1's constant degradation of the television medium in general (Vh1 proper, mind you, not 2 or Classic), this looks like it'll be fucking amazing. I can't wait till Evan Seinfeld get fed up of that spandex-touting faggot Bach, and body slams him against an amp while Ian Scott starts screaming: "You think you're cool because everyone saw your dick on Oz?" A formula for priceless TV if I ever saw one.
So Final Fantasy is coming out with a nw album, entitled He Poos Clouds which, when you think about it, is pretty hot. Apparently, if onlyman Owen Pallett is to be believed, the entire album is about the diffeent classifications of magic in Dungeons and Dragons (sample lyric: "I've got to find and kill my shadow self/And dig up every secret sea shell"). It's almost as good as last year's debut, Final Fantasy Has a Good Home, with lyrics about suicidal Canadian teenagers. So it's like Broken Social Scene, only not horrifying after one album. Pitchfork gave it an 8.0. Not that they're always right or anything, but it's pretty dead-on. It's funny, I just saw this Pearl Jam commerical on Fuse (don't judge me) and they were all like: "ROLLING STONE GAVE IT FOUR STARS...", as if one would want to actually tell people. Hilarious.
This just in: Pfork gives Morrissey an 8.0. This can mean one of two following things: 1) The album is rather brilliant after all and, in a rare burst of good taste, Pitchfork has recognized Ringleader of the Tormentors as the masterpiece it surely is, or 2) The album fucking blows seal skulls, Pitchfork sucks as many cocks as any other day and I just wasted $15 on a pre-order, because I'm a total tard.
We shall see.
So tonight it looks like I'm missing Art Brut (forgot to get tickets) to see the Stills (what? I played the first album for the first time in a while the other day and it pretty much stood up!).
Best album acquired lately: ¡Forward, Russia! - Give Me a Wall Album I am scared to put in my record player: Charlatans - Simpatico Best eBay score in a while: Bronski Beat - The Age of Consent (there are so many older gays trying to get rid of all their '80s dance shit on eBay it's NOT TO BE BELIEVED). So awesome.
An addendum: People, PLEASE stop using "I Love You But I've Chosen ____" as a catchphrase on everything from blogs to dancefloors. NO LONGER FUNNY. "I Love You But I've Chosen to go see Editors", "I Love You, But I've Chosen eating tacos", "I Love You, But I've Chosen to migrate 20,000 miles per year, from the north pole to the Antarctic and back, like the majestic arctic tern". STOP! STOP! STOP!
The fey '80s electro-synth-pop fandom continues here at Garagdream with the purchase of The Lexicon of Love by ABC, possibly the best fey '80s synth-pop record of them all (and I am including Dare, people). Oh wait I guess there's Pop! by Erasure and a Pet Shop Boys album or two that's probably better. But still it's fucking amazing.
Text message of the day: "I am watching a row of four british women with fairy wings on shout suck my titties over love punk guitars"
So I feel like all I ever do is talk about my job, which probably bores the 3 people who read this journal to death, but today I went to a taping of Late Night with Conan O'Brien because José González was performing. It was fucking awesome, I must say the best sound I've ever heard José perform with... but of course a hushed TV studio with ideal acoustics isn't exactly the norm. Tried to go see Place to Bury Strangers (remember two years ago when Jin and I totally had the hots for their drummer?), What Made Milwaukee Famous and Th Faith Healers at Mercury, but ended up calling it an early night and not try to shift Earth and time and get on the list (seriously, I can't even get it up for shows anymore... I'm so burnt out. I need to take like a year-long nap, though I am extremely excited for I Love You But I've Chosen Darkness on Friday).
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