even NPR loves the hold steady. the reporter went so far as to fully annotate three songs, so you can see the insane level of referencing detail that is woven into "separation sunday." i mean, "the cattle and the creeping things"? who knew that shit was in the big book? i didn't! plus if you never knew who andre cymone was, well, now you can know. check it out; it's kind of mind-blowing.

the dvd of the final GBV show last new year's eve is coming out in november, so we can all relive the glory. and then cry because we have nothing good to do this year.

so rob dickinson, former lead singer of the now-defunct catherine wheel (and cousin of a fellow lover of torture-device band names, iron maiden's bruce dickinson), has a new solo album coming out. i loved catherine wheel back in the day; they had a nice blend of shoegaze and alt-rock. unfortunately they eventually started to suck. and now, continuing the trend toward pansiness that the band had taken in the last couple years of its life, dickinson's new album is called "fresh wine for the horses." it features a cover shot of him hovering over the ocean, possibly while riding a whale, and releasing a bunch of colorful seahorses from a clear plastic bag into the foamy water. judging from this cover and the accompanying promo shots, in which he looks like a hot older robbie williams, you would think the album is cheesy. it's not that bad, actually. although let's be real: he does advise you to just "smile, and hang out with intelligent people." what do you do with that? this is the first single; it's pretty catchy, lush, and, yes, cheesy. i like it:

::: Rob Dickinson, "My Name Is Love" :::

there are a couple more at torr. and just for kicks here are two of my favorite catherine wheel songs:

::: Catherine Wheel, "Little Muscle" :::

::: Catherine Wheel, "Delicious" :::

weekend report, then. friday night: les savy fav, thunderbirds are now, rahim. none as good as les savy fav, who nevertheless put on one of the least crazy shows i've seen them play. still crazy fun, though. FOPita tricia mcd kept proclaiming how she "still didn't like them" despite her frequent woohing. i asked her why, and she screamed, "they're DUMB!" i think it is fair to blame this odd belligerent behavior on the alcamahol.

saturday night i met up with randi and cindy and we went to see a play about copyediting, which believe it or not was not that great. i mean, seriously, can you believe it?? our pizza at otto was excellent, though, and by the end of the night we ended up at the bulgarian nightclub, which is always a good time, especially if you like being groped by random eastern european men. brian pointed out the lead singer of gypsy-punk band gogol bordello (who is also going to star in the movie version of everything is illuminated) and wanted me to go take his picture, but it was 3 a.m. and he was doing a good job macking on some blonde and i didn't dare disturb their universe.

next weekend is labor day! the summer is almost over and i haven't done shit! long beach? p.s. 1? junkyard rock show? governor's island? whispering woods pool in south brunswick, new jersey? WHAT TO DO?!

i may not like the politics of supreme court nominee john roberts, but i do like his grammatical pickiness.

i know this is like SO last week, but i don't understand why gawker insists on making pointless, unfunny jokes about hipsters whenever someone dies outside of a "hipster" establishment. so someone died, and it happened to be in close proximity to an urban outfitters. that doesn't make it funny, and your lame "be careful out there, kids" kicker (also used for the post when someone died on the sidewalk near teany) doesn't impart the slightest bit of humanity. get some perspective, kids.

::: Need New Body, "Show Us Your Heart" ::: this song RULES. i'm obsessed with need new body.

"there's nothing to do on the island!" was always holly's sales pitch when she invited me there. i never took her up on it, but i advised her this weekend that she might want to change that sales pitch. there's biking! michelle, clare, and i rented bikes (supercute vintage, tiny child's, and mountain with basket, respectively) and biked along the absolutely gorgeous coastline, lined with rocks and lush vegetation. o, ocean! how i love you. fresh sea air: can't beat it.

tamar and matt and i also went to the umbrella cover museum, which we were lucky enough to find open a few hours before the wedding. people: the umbrella. cover. museum. the lady running it is, of course, eccentric, going so far as to pull out her accordion and sing for us the umbrella cover museum theme song, which, i shit you not, has been in my head on and off ever since. here is video of the umbrella cover lady singing with her accordion. she then passed out lyric sheets and we all sang along, cheeks burning. she's in a klezmer band and her middle number is 3. at one point a would-be patron popped her head in and quickly retreated. the proprietor sighed: "she doesn't get it." but we do! we so get it! and i am so sending her my umbrella covers.

and then yesterday holly and nate showed me the sweet spots around the island: the one sandy (tiny) beach, the cutest houses, the war fort covered in vegetation and graffiti. i made them jump for their love. a perfect long weekend, i tell you. i hope they invite me back.

a bazillion more photos are on my flickr.

hooray, holly and nate are married! it was a superfun wedding on a lovely island off the coast of maine, and i am NOT happy to be back the city, frankly. i seriously almost cried on the ferry back to portland. being surrounded by so much natural beauty and so many of my friends (i knew ALL the friends!) was just the greatest feeling. holly looked gorgeous, of course, and nate cleaned up pretty well, too. the ceremony was short and sweet -- i lost the battle against tears early and often. it was a good thing i wasn't officiating. but i did successfully hold my corner of the chuppah, which i and angela also constructed, complete with the traditional disco ball (anyone got pics?) dangling from the center. it made holly laugh when she got there, which was the goal. throughout the ceremony, nate could not stop giving holly little pecks, which was so cute and spontaneous and funny that everyone laughed. and then i also made everyone laugh during my toast/speech, which i was revising literally up until the point it was given. i am quite the jokester, apparently! we danced quite a bit despite the music, which it was universally agreed upon was horbz until the last hour or so. the DJ even kept booming about "the NEW mr. and mrs. powell!!" every five seconds, much to holly's mortsification. no one should have to suffer through "lady in red" on their wedding day. but as they say in maine, whatevah. tamar and i got to do the thriller dance, so all was forgiven. lots of other stuff happened, but i'll save those stories and pictures for round two. stay tuned.

John Vanderslice, "Trance Manual"

John Vanderslice, "Exodus Damage"

i think this stuff would appeal to fans of the decemberists, the fiery furnaces, the mountain goats...you know: the literary crowd. he also takes great photos and makes much of his catalog available as mp3s.

oh my god, this is the best. forgive me for posting about this band, but someone has made a hilarious video of a khaki-clad frat boy dancing at the outdoor clap your hands say yeah show of last week. it is so precious. [via beautifully designed blog the oh so quiet show]

bumblebees do it doggy-style.

and i thought the summer was going to go by without me attending any ridiculous brooklyn parking-lot shows. what is yay: oneida are playing some parking lot on september 3 with ex-models and the always intriguing "others." bring earplugs or suffer (more).

the inimitable betsy and mike were in town for about 16 hours this past weekend. we practiced drinking vodka drinks and, uh, taking lots of pictures of ourselves, of course, in preparation for this weekend's festivities.

last week on the internet some folks were getting all huffy about the new lower east side starbucks. as if starbucks isn't already all over the east village. (see also the wise words of krucoff, regularly kicking ass and smearing names.) but a coffee chain below houston? nooooooo! my main complaint: why not a delicious jamba juice, or a decent gym? i am rarely tempted by starbucks so it doesn't much matter to me, though i guess it will matter to the little-guy coffee places. someone has created a cool map of better places to spend your coffee money, to which i would add teany-to-go and the laundromat next to rush hour. though of course real coffee drinkers (like me) make it at home. may i suggest a little coffeemate hazelnut, fat-free? you'll never go back, i swear.

a better version of fiona? so fiona apple's record is going to come out after all, rerecorded without jon brion. i guess brion makes pretty good music for films, but rhett miller's solo record was, how you say, not good (though admittedly maybe rhett had a little something to do with that, too). maybe the new version will be a little less...plinky.

so i have been going to the gym more often in recent weeks. and in recent days, even more often, as i am developing a crush on a fascinating dude there who does HANDSTAND PUSH-UPS. it's so insane, it's hilarious. it's as if rocky balboa has joined dolphin fitness...wtf? i saw him doing that, i felt like the biggest pussy of all time doing my post-cardio stretches. where did he learn that? jail? i'm not sure if he's the same guy who used to pound the shit out of the punching bag in a similarly intense fashion, but he is 100% badass. and he has tattoos (always a plus). unfortunately i am unable to speak to him (because, you know, i totally would) due to the fact that he is always wearing headphones (secure ones that wrap around his head, not the gay white ipod earbuds). should i write him a sign? what should it say? "you are scary but let's get coffee"? stay tuned. i sense a struggle of Oh My God You Are So Hot, And Now You Never Come Around To That Shitty Hotel You Built Construction Boy/Architect proportions.

dudes, this pitchfork news item is talking directly to me! also, the hold steady have made their web-film debut (film #4). tad speaks spanish poorly. it made me laugh. check it out. and then go buy target shit, because target shit TOTALLY RULES.

this is cool: bliptones, an indie ringtone site. personally i still prefer making my own ringtones for free.

that first picture should have been on watchhollygetmarriedalready.com. it's from the clinique counter at bloomie's soho. you would be surprised at the passion with which i argued for a rosy, glossy pink lip. or maybe not.

saw a really good show last night, solo (the horror). the redwalls reminded me of the rolling stones and the 60s in general, but they also had a healthy dose of psychedelic drone that had me remembering spiritualized. the band was extremely enthusiastic and seemed really happy to be there, and how old are they? sixteen? so i liked them. they were taking pictures outside when i left with huge smiles on their faces. must be good to be young and signed to a major label.

then the shout out louds came on, and god damn, are they good. if you are a fan of stellar indie pop like built to spill, the shins, or belle and sebastian, you will probably like them. high-energy, awesome pop songs, one after another. major props for opening the set with the best song ("please please please", thanks jeff for sharing). also: so cute and swedish! the singer, dresssed in red suspenders over a green button-down and sporting a beard, looking like a bizarro country version of jordan catalano (indie amish?), counted off in swedish. anyway, they totally kicked it to me. yay swedes!

and i've gotta agree with lindsay: boooooo death cab. i looooved them when i discovered "something about airplanes" in a bargain bin in san francisco years ago, but lost interest around the time "the photo album" came out. and what i've heard of this new album is painfully boring. god, someone just shoot that guy, please.

why i love travis morrison, #852395789: this factsheet about the name travis. an excerpt: "'Travesty' is not quite a fifty-cent word. People eventually learn it. But it's boutiquey and some people learn it later in life. So this little gift keeps on giving every seven months or so. People say, 'Dude! This parking job is totally a... travesty! oh shit! TRAVIS-ty!'" i heart travis.

and since it is birthday season, happy happies to old roommate tamar (thank god she's gone), new roommate harry (answer: we love him; he's great), and now-not-to-be-trusted leanne.

important fashion alert! the other day, after i thought i lost my phone and my friends had left and i was kinda hungover, i got the cutest bag on the street while desperately searching for quality flip-flops. this girl was charging only $35 for these awesome handmade screenprinted circle-shape bags. so, yay that.

on a random note, anybody out there know any good freelance copy editors? send them my way ASAP, please.

cityrag revealed the creator of those cool walk-sign colorform thingies: thundercut. they've got some new ones out there, including a couple at yankee stadium that we missed last weekend. click through for the hottness.

on days such as today, where i slouch in my cubicle and wonder just how long i can continue doing this much nothing with my life, i really appreciate the following sites for making me laugh and laugh: stuffonmycat.com (i have a daily habit now), and the ugliest dog in the world.

by the way, kurt continues to crack me up over on kurt's martini. sample sentence, from his colorful "80s song of the week" feature: "I stood for five minutes by the bacon jotting down the lyrics so I could google it at home." i don't know, somehow kurt is genius.

liz phair is still being extremely defensive about that last crappy record. she has another one coming out in october; let's cross our fingers it doesn't suck that hard. i've been listening to her (early stuff) a lot lately; here's a track off of the girlysound demos. this is going out to you, new york city. yay weekend!

::: Liz Phair, "Wild Thing" :::

while i was supposed to be clearing out my old room this weekend, i was instead hanging out with my favorite suburban philadelphians, holly and mark, and soon-to-be-neighbor michael. i love hanging out with these kids; i basically never stop laughing. on saturday afternoon we sweltered through the yankee game in the most kickass seats i have ever had the pleasure of experiencing, thanks to michael. we almost scored a foul ball but michael was too busy reeling from the way skillet guy dissed him to notice when the ball dropped directly into the seat in front of him. after we cleaned up our swampasses and got some good food in our system, we turned into total boozebags, hanging out at this cool underground sake bar called decibel, rififi, a roof party on top of the red square building, la caverna (!!), and of course every evening's last-gasp stop, iggy's (now newly reupholstered!). then we came back to my place and gorged on cheese sticks. times were good -- a little too good perhaps, as i discovered sunday morning when my phone was nowhere to be found. and of course, i have lovingly uploaded a whole bunch more pics on flickr. UPDATE: don't you love updates? i found my phone! after janelle told me i sent her a text from iggy's, and i reconfirmed that the phone was not in fact at iggy's, i conducted another search and found the little shit glinting at me mockingly from under my bed. huzzah.