|
|
|
friday, august 30, 2002
my post-weekend at eileen's house on the cape was a blast. the hot tub was working! the ocean and the air were invigorating, and the sand was warm. we went to the drive-in movie theater, which was very fun and somewhat creepy (all those disembodied laughs as you make your way in the dark to the bathroom). i ate several lobster rolls and bought a very good lip balm at the general store. we ate ice cream and drank pete's summer brew. i was converted to the wonders of the outdoor shower. did i mention the hot tub? i wished i didn't ever have to come back. previously, eileen had visited me here in the greatest city in the world. we: oh yeah, and i saw westerberg last night with pete. he was good, and his voice sounded great, and he's just so cool, but i knew about 30 percent of the songs. guess i just am not a huge replacements fan.
saturday, august 24, 2002 yep, that's it. i'm out. again.
friday, august 23, 2002 but life must go on. here is a funny interview with imperial teen. leanne brags about how she is wearing sweatshirts and building fires to keep warm. that is simply unnatural and weird. she lives in cali-freakin-fornia! but no matter. i am not jealous. oh no, i am like praising god that the heat broke (it's in the 70s! i am wearing elbow-length sleeves!) and i can now sit in my apartment without plowing the psychic depths of despair. oh yeah, about my t-shirt quest: don't all jump at once! hey, west virginia! i know you're out there! i am not doing very well with my quest. this is what i have: two new jerseys (couldn't resist), an ohio (gbv-related!) on the way, hawaii, wyoming, kentucky, and a promise for virginia. i also have a long-sleeved "texas love" shirt but i have no idea what that means, and i want one with the shape of texas on it. plus i just want a new one. don't make me give more money to urban outfitters! i semi-spontaneously decided to try wrangle an invitation to the cape from eileen, who is pretty much the greatest person ever. it worked. and my lovely boss kindly let me take three days off with about one day's notice. (all my bosses, by the way, are *extremely* cool people.) therefore, you poor dears will have to deal without me until probably thursday. wednesday i'll be on the road (what do you think, rent a car?) and then out to the paul westerberg show. i hear he's got couches on stage with him and you can go up and chill while he plays. i trust you will suffer long and hard without me.
thursday, august 22, 2002 would you believe that some friends of mine actually appear to be considering booking ben kweller for their loft party? i'm not sure if i believe it myself. but he does come comparatively cheap, despite "hot avail" (whatever that means). see how much your, um, fave artist costs. bite your tongue, all music guide!
tuesday, august 20, 2002 bad headbanging: jared leto, last night at mercury lounge. oh my god, that guy is so ridiculous. he has this asymmetrical haircut, 75 percent of which is platinum blond. i hope cameron diaz is not still dating him. he kept flinging his hair across his forehead like, well, like a major tool. and then he kept headbanging like a major tool. ultraserious, ultraposeurrific were these rockstar moves. his band sucks too. nu-metal crapathon, that's what last night was. we were laughing our asses off. tamar, who got me in for free, thank god (yay tamar!), reports that jared does not want to be identified in press coverage because he wants the band to make it on their own merit. whatever. reader, there was a gigantic tour bus outside the club and the booker told me that jared had been sitting in it all day. they also apparently have roadies to set up their stuff. who wear the band's obnoxious red t-shirts. so dumb. i could not lower myself to take pictures of the band, despite requests. if you need some jordan catalano eye candy, i suggest you frequent the merc on nights when the doppelganger bartender is there. he's so much better. jeez, even the new york times does not seem to know the difference between "loose" and "lose." witness the grammatical carnage in this story about grand central's lost and found. speaking of lost, has anyone seen my camera case? i can't find it, and it contains my fifty-dollah extra battery, dammit. pete bothum interviews paul westerberg and reveals some fun facts about his current solo tour. i can't wait to see him next week. and slatch has a great interview with spoon, whose new album, kill the moonlight, barring the release of any other pure genius records in the next few months, is going to be my #1 of the year. have i told you how good it is? it is sooooo goooooood. there. i told you. you know those splotches of blackened gum that dot the sidewalks of new york? even though it is almost lovely outside today, it is still hot enough on the subway platform that those things actually return to their essential gum-ness. i was standing in my heels in one of them this morning, shifted, and realized i was standing in a tiny pool of hot gum. i then had to pick it off of my heel, bit by nasty sticky bit. gross. bring on sweater weather!
saturday, august 17, 2002 movies, movies, movies. yesterday i saw two films almost back to back, broken up only by a short walk down second avenue. first it was possession, a very literary gwyneth film, basically. it was fine. aaron eckhart tries a bit too hard to be harrison ford, though. why does the american academic have to be so gruff and stubbly, really? can't he be a nice, sweet nerd? here's gwyneth fixing her perfect hair for the guy and he can't even be bothered to shave? see it if you can't think of anything better. after that i headed to the anthology film archives for a screening of public enemy for the korean film festival. it was a good action thriller type thing. laughs, violence, chills, poop. a little long and underfocused, perhaps. and the anthology film archives' AC unit needs some work. nevertheless, recommended. tonight: ben!
friday, august 16, 2002
wednesday, august 14, 2002 i spent four years in delaware and never once did i find it to be a "a rapacious parasite state with a long history of disloyalty and avarice," as this guy's hilarious rant against the first state suggests. [via betsy] are you aware of exactly how cute ryan adams is? leigh ann and i watched this new commercial about 10 times yesterday: "okay now let's watch it on your computer." "okay!" "heeeee!!" i saw these jokers walking down the street with their "talk to me" sign the other day. i thought they were jesus lovers. guess they are just regular old freaks. "she was yelling, 'i'm saving the lobsters, i'm saving the lobsters'..."
i am sore from my weekend. let me tell you about it. beers with bob was yet another step in the evolution of my gbv fanhood. they were perfectly nice, but i found myself with little to say to them. we did chat a tiny bit though, and i DID get a picture of nate and tim kissing me on each cheek, which threw me into such throes of ecstasy that i couldn't even keep my mouth closed or eyes open. the marketing chick from matador was a doll, the beer was excellent, and i was so happy to get to go (thanks, of course, to leanne). the tour itself was a bit of a bust: it was not "guided by bob," and there were too many people and not enough chance to become best friends with the band, which was of course my goal. instead i took eighty million pictures while some guy in khakis screamed out the history of the brooklyn brewery as the band stood around and bore it. you could tell it was kind of a chore for them. jami took notes and looked fed up. nate farley continued to look extremely cute despite his burgeoning beer belly. we all laughed at the absurdity. i admit i was a little bit bummed when this girl in a tube top seemed to be making progress with nate. but i shook it off, because as jami said, you simply cannot compete with tube tops. eventually we jumped in matador-provided town cars and zoomed across the river to irving plaza. i checked out the scene in the VIP balcony and decided i'd rather be down amongst the peoples in front of the stage, where i could dance and share the love. holly and amy were there too, holly bravely lurking on the rear boundary of the pit. i don't remember very much from this period, except that i was loving it and that i, um, made a friend. please remember it was free beer at the brewery, and we didn't arrive until just before gbv went on. they rocked as per usual. after the show i didn't go backstage because jami had left (check her version of events for why) and, well, i have no idea why that didn't happen. amy reports that some fellow contest winner was trying to get me to go with him and i paid him no attention whatsoever, preferring, i recall, to yak on my cell phone with pete, my gbv mentor, who had called me. also of note: i was pontificating on something to a woman who was writing a piece about beers with bob that she hopes will end up in the new yorker. so there is a slight chance i could be quoted saying something stupid in the new yorker sometime soon. excellent, no? moving on: saturday the roommates and i prepared all day for our party, which had been billed on an evite as "a private performance by the strokes (and tamar's birthday)." you would not believe the number of dumbasses who bought the idea that we could get the strokes to play in our living room. it was a raging success despite early keg problems and somewhat overheated apartment. while the dj downstairs played hip hop and r&b, i kept the 6-disc ghetto blaster on the roof loaded with stuff like spoon and the shins. only one person complained. tamar's crafty friend michelle made a cake that replicated the cover of the strokes album (u.s. version). leigh ann's group of boys were the stars of the party, breaking chairs and tearing up the dance floor and cracking me up with wordtastic riffs on "cocky khakis." possibly our best party ever. after the last revelers left (at 6 a.m.! we do not mess around with our parties) i spent some time contemplating on the roof. there is nothing like my roof for that sort of thing. i have decided to purchase a much smaller ghetto blaster so as to be able to get it through the hatch without major hassle and hang out up there more often. and finally, i am such a rockstar that yesterday i was able to make it to central park for sonic youth. wasn't quite rockstar enough to actually get in, so instead i sat on the dusty hill with the rest of the kids behind the bleachers until i couldn't stand it anymore. they must have been detuning all 50 of their guitars or whatever because they took forever to go on. do you realize kim gordon is almost 50?! (jami was right. good thing we never nailed down that bet.)
friday, august 9, 2002 so the joe's pub show was semi-lame. yes, it's a beautiful setting, but the place was only half-full, of music industry types, and he didn't get an encore. plus, he played all those sappy songs off the new album. but i shouldn't complain. i still love rhett enough to then tromp over to fez and fork over fifteen bucks to hear him play again. while in line he came by and handed out a couple advance cds, instructing us to burn it for our friends. betsy told him to sign ours over the face, but he did not. she later booed him. twice. (okay, so i booed too. but there was context: the sacking of the "helicopter ladies" chorus and the old "i've just got a couple more for you" drew our good-natured disapproval.) he even played our request, "wish the worst," so we were happy little kitties. oh but OH: he announced at joe's that he had "hired a rock band" to take out on tour with him to promote the solo record. to that you know what i say? you know: booooooooooooo. if my slight pictorial offering is not enough for you, check out these shots from the old 97s playing last year. dude has a bunch of other cool bands, too. last night betsy told me that she was slowly resurrecting her page, which fell briefly due to, um, something. "today i put back the colors," she said. this is excellent news, i think you'll agree. i can hardly believe we're approaching the anniversary of sept. 11. seems like it just happened. and i still, well, nevermind. i can't believe it's been a year is all i'm saying.
wednesday, august 7, 2002 and another one, about a goat who loves beer and is also mayor being castrated in texas. i don't know eileen, that only makes me want to go to texas more. imagine the adventures we could have! today is all about the Funny. dude from the vines: "I've run out of interesting things to say, and it's really important to me to further my career with crazy stories." tonight is Double Shot of Rhett Miller Night! let's hope he doesn't play all those new, embarrassingly sucky songs! saw the breeders last night. they rocked. crowd energy like i have (almost) never seen before. who knew? nate got kim to sign his hand once he found himself among the autograph seekers after the show. she laughed. it was a special moment. it must be noted, however, that kelley has a much cuter haircut than kim. "if you're a sexy female hipster...."! bwahhahahahaha!! these two albums are two of my absolute favorites of the year, and you can stream/download them direct from the artists: spoon, kill the moonlight (ohmyGOD sexy) and jay bennett, the palace at 4 a.m. (does not leave my discman; possibly even better than the wilco record). |
try these, too |
