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Recently, me and my girl took the ZipCar out to Stong I for a mini-wine tasting tour and beaching. This is my second time out there, as I took my parents out there last year. It's not the most adventurous thing to do, but it's nice to get out of the city by any means necessary. And it's super easy to do. This coupled with the promise of wine = GoodTimes.

Also, I'm fascinated by maps. Especially the mapping of NYC. Look at this crazy shit. Or this. Or this. I believe this is resultant of growing up landlocked, on a grid, with a lake for an east side. And being surrounded by idiot neighbors, Indiana, Wisconsin, and Iowa. And don't get me started on that white trash fuck, Missouri.

(Pellegrini Vineyards in the Background.)

(If you really care, you can take an old-man-guided tour of the vines.)

Anywho, I'm busy today, so I thought I'd post an email describing (badly) what we did:

So. We went to "Northfork", i.e. The North fork of Eastern Long Island. The end of L.I.E. more or less ends in Riverhead. From there, it's only one road through wine country. I think it's NY 25.

At the end of the road is Orient, and past that is Orient Point State Park (beach). The other town that is sorta cool is Greenport, which is between Peconic and Orient.

We went to a few vineyards. The one I like the best is Peconic Bay Winery. And, as far as light, dry Chardonnay goes, I can't get enough of this. We also went to Pellegrini, (a beautiful vineyard at which you can bring your own lunch, and picnic on the grounds) and Pinar. Also, we stopped at a bar. We bought candy, gifts. I went into the cold Atlantic. We passed out on the rocky beach. In addition, here's random shit we jotted down while out there:

Silversands Motel, Greenport

The Greenporter Hotel and Spa, Greenport

The Inn at The Blue, East Marion

Eastern Long Island Camp Ground, Greenport

Sunset Motel, Greenport

Southold Beach Motel, Southold

I'm sure anyone can use The Power of The WorldWide InterWeb to find out more about these places. There's a million pricey Bed and Breakfasts out there, but they all have minimum 2 or 3 night stays. Next time, we'd do the Norman Bates style Motel(s).

Njoy!
B

PS. I think you can take the LIRR pretty far out there too...

(It's hard to see, but there was a drunken Captain and Tennille duo singing Carpenter's covers over by...)

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I went to see Priestbird (a relabeled Tarantula AD), Earth and Pelican last Tuesday.

They played The Bowery Ballroom which is the undefeated champ venue of NYC. The Bowery holds it down nicely at Bowery and Delancey, making it easy to access from LES, SoHo, Downtown or The Village. I've never seen any sort of line at the door, thanks to an intelligent and competent staff. Even the bouncers are decent humans.

I breezed in, claimed my reasonably priced ticket hassle-free from will call, and grabbed a drink at the entry/lower level bar. Upstairs, the boxy main room was a welcome sight, mostly because I know it contains top-notch sound, and expert engineers. Every show sounds great here. And guess what? Since The Bowery doesn't usually oversell, you can move around in a refreshingly non butt-to-nut fashion. There is a bar on the main floor, there is a bar on the cozy upper level. Drink.

I was too late for Priestbird, but I could sort of give a rat's because they're local and will be seen again. I was, however, somewhat excited to hear Earth. There's been some hype about they're last album, Hibernaculum, but I remembered them from some back-in-the-day releases when smacky Drone was the shit.

I don't remember Earth having any discernable rhythm structure, but I guess that was then. What I heard sounded alot like a grittier pre-Y2K Low. And, in a drunken stupor lucid vision I imagined some indy smartass making an Earth/Low mix Dangermouse style. I don't think it would be hard. All you'd have to do is beatmatch the limp-wristed drumming of Adrienne Davies and Mimi Parker, then let nature do it's thing. I gave Earth a fair listen, while trying hard to find differences between any of their songs. I'm not saying that they played badly; they didn't. In the end, Earth proved to be a fine contrast to Pelican which absolutely ripped everyone a new asshole.

After a timely and professional equipment change, Pelican commenced with the rocking. I haven't heard their new album City of Echoes, but I didn't need to. Therein lies the beauty of Pelican. Their songs are vocal free, and roughly the same tempo. So unless you're a superfan you're not gonna break out the lighter when you hear "that one track". Ironically it's what made Earth boring that allowed Pelican to rock so hard. Pelican's songs are all very similar; they are complex, mathy, and metalish. But it's the band's unwavering execution, and sheer riffing exuberance that is as infectious as it is impressive. They wove together a set that was like one continually shifting, emotive experience rather than a collection of songs.

I staggered out of the show feeling thoroughly thrashed and relieved that not every new band has to blow ass by default.

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I don't touch this poison myself, but my man just finished up working on these. Nice, eh?

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My beautiful girlfriend is on a mission to get you to chuck your Masterlock. Chuck it up.

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Was anyone else embarrassed for humanity from say, oh, about 7-10pm Eastern last night? If you were, I'll bet you were watching the Democratic Presidential Debate on CNN, in honor of Today Sucks Dick Day.

Whose fucking idea was it to have Anderson Cooper YouTube moderate the debate? What's next? Casting ballots in Second Life?

If those questioning douchebags post last night's debate on YouTube while a "YouTube video" was playing, will it spark a massive, runaway chain reaction of video feedback causing The WorldWide InterWeb to collapse upon itself and suck down all of reality with it? Please? Can someone try it? Maybe this "no style is off-limits" fuckface can do it.

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I had heard that Battles was killing it at Pitchfork, so I figured I'd see for myself. They played last weekend at Studio B, a newish, hippish venue hidden somewhere in Williamsburg. Also, my man wanted to go, so I took him for his belated birthday.

Unfortunately my man spontaneously combusted from having such a rip roaring time at the show. I managed to capture this tragedy through the wonders of Super High Resolution Digital Photography. Appearently he wasn't alone, as the bulging, near capacity venue suggested. Kids were loving it.

Me? I was considerably schwizzeled, and kept thinking that they sounded like pre-vocal Trans Am. Somewhat to their credit, however, I also kept saying how good everything sounded and how The Polish are really good construction workers and how the clubs they build are totally awesome [hic], and, in fact, that my parents have been warned that the Polish Mafia are at large in their neighborhood, and how when I [hic] was [hic] in a band we could have played here cause we did shit like this, and blah blah blah...

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Because I am stupid, I forgot my belt today. After miles of mooning on 8th Ave, I arrived at work and realized I had a serious problem.

I fumbled around trying to fasten my jeans to my underwear (which I thankfully decided to wear today) with Binder clips. But once again, gravity proved superior, and foiled my plan.

Then I grabbed my Firewire cable and looped it up like Jethro. Just double-knot in the front and tuck the excess cable in the rest of your belt loops. If you still need to access data, simply make a dorky sandwich between your HD and your computer, while keeping your pants on!

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Today has unanimously been declared Today Sucks Dick Day by everyone living in the NYC area, and by considerable proponents from the rest of the US, world. "Why?" you ask? Here's the Top Ten reasons why today is Today Sucks Dick Day:

10) Region lulled into, "Is this great weather or what?" mood over the weekend, only to have it yanked away sometime between the weekend and now.

9) Rain. Make thatSideways Rain.

8) Lack of invention, availability of mythical "Ultrabrella" that doesn't instantly break when used, and does, in fact, keep users dry.

7) "Icky" wet denim blows, creates musty balls.

6) Unable to realize dream job of making stupid noises all day long (like the black guy from Police Academy) to the delight of overly-generous and easily amused employer, a legal Emma Watson.

5) Want to finally see Transfomers, yet unable to do so while keeping ass planted firmly on couch, loaded bowl and cocktail in hand.

4) Due to 94% humidity and #9 (listed above) hair looks worse than Screech's.

3) NYC weather doesn't have illiterate Steve Schill or confused Harry Volkman to laugh with at.

2) Unable to ride bike, must subject oneself to the subway.

1) As pointed out by a colleague, "Everyone's [shitty] attitude in here is reflecting what's going on outside..."

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My Special Secret Operative sent me this, and it's real good. Thanx baby! Happy Friday.

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I'm not sure what this is all about, but it involves people from Chicago that now live in NYC.

I question any self-proclaiming Suburbian Chicagoian who says Brownie Lady instead Bread Lady, The "L" instead of The "El" or Goldstar Bar instead of simply, Goldstar but hey...

Posted by admin at 10:32 PM | Permalink | Comments (2) | TrackBacks (0)

My man started a company called EcoSystems Brand. They make furniture that; "strives to provide eco-effective products that generate positive effects on the ecology, economy and social equity of the system they inhabit."

Meanwhile, I've been making web banners that strive to make you drink shots of yogurt.

Anyway, there is a group opening for these and other heroes at the Allen Gallery in Chelsea. A bunch more info for you, cause that's how I do:

Paved Paradise II
Summer Group Show

Works by: Helen Brough, Susan Daboll, EcoSystems, Marietta Hoferer, John Lawson, Ilan Katlin, Jim Napierala, Colin Montgomery, Mitchell Schorr, Michael Souter, Ilene Sunshine, and Josette Urso.

Thursday, July 19th from 6 to 8pm

547 West 27th 5th floor
(between 10th and 11th Avenues)
www.allengallerychelsea.com
917-202-3206

This exhibition is a continuation of the original Paved Paradise show with additional artists and new work from the existing artists.

The work in this show was created using found discarded objects recycled into the work. Other work was created as the artist's reaction to the current state of our environment.

Posted by admin at 08:39 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

On of my Special Secret Covert Operatives pointed out that the video from the previous post; "Chocolate Rain: Worse Than Swearing, Worse Than Calling Names..." is a fake posted by some filthy, scamming douche.

This is the real shit folks.

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Seriously. How does 2 inches of water and some scary thunder bring the whole city to it's knees? But, we're totally prepped for anything, right?

Worse, I got slapped in the head this morning by a soaked, low-hanging branch. This leafy friend gave me a watery slickback right before starting my hour-and-a-half sauna treatment that is the MTA. Now I'm pissed and having a bad hair day. Thanks, The Weather and The MTA!

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I hope to God this guy is from Canada, Australia, or Indiana, or some other foreign country. Because if he's not, then The Terrorists are in fact victorious and The U, S, and A is truly fucked...

UPDATE!!! This is a fake! The real one is here.

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I've gushed about Cake Shop before, maybe tonite's your big chance to go there, keep it real, and see a good show.

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...obviously you're at The Punk Rock Show in Chicago.

While I was home last weekend, I successfully escaped Boys Town on a Saturday night (don't ask) and made it to The Punk Rock Show in trendy Wicker Park. I guess dude from Johann's Face has been running Lucky Gator Loft for years. Who knew.

The band is called Tongues. It featured ex-"members" of Joan of Arc, Apocolypse Hoboken, probably some other shit as well. $5 got you into a huge, steamy loft and right in front some some punk/hardcore/mathish/something bands. BYOS in effect, and of course smoking indoors. As per any good punk show, people got wasted and rowdy. They shoved each other, made "guest" vocal appearances, took their pants off and spit beer on the band. Then The Man showed up later and made some arrests.

Basically, the show went off perfectly.

Btw, my man was wasted, and saw fit to take me on a beerless tour of my old neighborhood while flashing some leg on Ashland to offset the steep admission fee.

Notice my man stepping up to the mic in the back. Wow!

Hey, guy. Too much male penis there. I guess it's punk to be gay and do gay things at shows with other dudes now... It used to be you'd simply kick your friend in the head at these shows, but now everyone dudes get naked and play Grabass.

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I'm not sure if I'll be able to sit through 2 hours of the Simpsons, for the upcoming movie, but I was able to hold it down for 5 minutes while monkeying with their cool avatar generator.

It was so exhasuting that my avatar had to stop by Moe's after...

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Since I gots The City By The Lake on the mind, I find this Chicagoist post funny for lots of reasons, but mostly because it reminded me how much I like to say aloud the words; "Governor Rod Blagojevich". Go ahead, try it. His last name is pronounced, "Blag + Goy + O + Vitch." Plus, his first name is "Rod!" GoodTimes.

For those not in The Know, Governor Rod Blagojevich (I refuse to call him the trendy, "Blaggo") fell into position as the Democratic Governor of the Great State of Illinois — pronounced, "Ill + Uh + Noy."

Anywho, Governor Rod Blagojevich dropped $600 of his own taxpayer's bread to work on that fisty (in the true sense of the word) puss of his. And it shows. Nice work Governor Rod Blagojevich.

PS. Extra fun fact: Governor Rod Blagojevich actually had the balls to launch a site called "Rod For Illinois!"

Governor Rod Blagojevich.

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I took my broseph to the Pitchfork Music Festival for the Friday night show, the first of three. Pitchfork had a great concept for the opening night; have three great artists play their greatest releases, and keep the whole thing simple. Slint performed Spiderland, GZA performed Liquid Swords, and Sonic Youth performed Daydream Nation.

I could give a shit about any of the other bands playing Pitchfork, but I'll take any opportunity to see SY, and I used to dig Slint too. I was excited. After knocking a few back on the roof at Twisted Spoke, we safely ditched our ride and walked down Ogden to historic Union Park. I was impressed with what I saw. There were no bullshit lines waiting to get in, and the admissions staff was quick and competent. Oh yeah, and Friday's ticket was only $15. The evening didn't appear oversold, which is becoming the norm for outdoor music festivals. I could easily walk over to the beer line, and get a coldy in about 5 minutes. As for pissing, there were ample not-that-disgusting-yet Porto potties, whose waiting times were comparable to those of the beer lines. The weather was gorgeous. Clear, cool and breezy.

Super-important shit after the jump...

Slint been-there-did-that-before-you-did, and it was excellent. GZA sucked because all rap shows suck. Sonic Youth, however, played the best show I've ever seen them play. They rocked almost all of Daydream flawlessly, but not exactly, allowing for all sorts of signature improv and freeform antics. Standouts were The Sprawl, Total Trash, and even Candle no less. I've seen them play many times, but this time found them ultra energized, somehow reclaiming that assaulting stomp from (I'm imagining) early years. Maybe I was half in the bag, but it seemed like they were enjoying their flawless performance as much everyone else. I swear to God that Sonic Youth is still the best and most unique band in music today. If nothing else, they've always been a beacon of hope and affirmation for DIY artistic dedication. They wrote Daydream Nation 20 years ago for fucksake, finally booted Jim O'Rourke, and have a combined age of 400,000 years. Wow.

Sure it was all too quiet, but what the hell. Here's a link to better pictures than mine, which you'll find after the jump...

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Do you like Hippies? Do you like their "art"? Love it or hate it, you can op it at The Whitney through September 16th.

The exhibition is boringly called, Summer of Love: Art of the Psychedelic Era. It is, however, an excellent collection of surprisingly varied periodwork. Much of it is familiar; original Sgt. Pepper album covers, Warhol screens, famous Stones' photography, etc... But alot isn't, such as framed sheets of acid, bizzarro anti-sunglasses, and stained-glass mosaics. If you're a designer, you're really in for a treat because on display is a massive collection of original concert posters and flyers.

An oddball sculpture by Yayoi Kusama was probably my favorite, as were the photographs of Elliott Landy.

Hiding in the basement was an interesting exhibit by Taryn Simon. All with retarded tigers and shit. But, unfortunately for you, it's gone. Looks like you can commodify it here.

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Yaaaay! America had a birthday.

Me? Well, I went and celebrated with Brits and Midwesterners at a BBQ in Park Slope. But then the girls assembled like Voltron and decided last minute to go to beautiful Red Hook to "see the fireworks". Not the best idea at 9pm, day of, but hey...

Regardless, my man and I did not get arrested shot hurt stowed away in the back of a pickup, whitetrash style. It looked something like this after the jump...

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Ever notice that thugish dudes like to look really gay. Like when Rocawear dudes bust 16X tees, which oddly make them look babylike and less threatening. Or when Clinton Street kids grow flowing, curly locks that are pulled back, then ponied with a scrunchie.

But no more. Nothing says how street 'ya is more than lacing your Timbos with plastic-coated chains. Now that's hard, son. Fortunately, NYC has a boutique dedicated to making sure 'yo shit is tight when you roll up to 'da club. Of course it has no name, other than it's address, 15 R. "R" is short for "Rivington", get it? Oh, and it's never open. Word.

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I've been getting lots of requests for the proper baby-buring technique lately. It seems summer really is in full swing. I consulted Special Seaside Operative, Sandy Bottoms for this step-by-step process:

STEP 1) Select a spot where no seagulls will shit on your child, and where a random wave won't creep up to drown your baby or take him out to sea.

STEP 2) Scoop out the required amount of sand so that your child will be comfortable, yet not able to do a large amount of wiggling around. (NOTE: while comfort is of the utmost import, also make sure that there are no little sand crabs' homes in the immediate area nor broken glass, bottle caps, etc... Depending on where your beach is located, beware of other environmental hazards, such as crackheads, dingos, Cambodian pirates, etc...)

STEP 3) Place child in the excavated area.

STEP 4) Cover child in sand up to the neck. (NOTE: be careful that your chlid does not get scorched in the sunlight.)

STEP 5) Pat sand.

STEP 6) Enjoy!

Posted by admin at 06:13 PM | Permalink | Comments (2) | TrackBacks (0)

Yo Esé,

Porqué usted consiguió mirarme todo el divertido y mierda. ¿No puede usted verme vete a la mierda de la voluntad para arriba, homie? Sí, los dats me enderezan son un Chihuahua de mierda.

¿Usted sabe papi de los medios del dat del wha? ¿Significa que usted cierra la cogida encima del mí le hace y su pequeña hermana mis perros, perra le consiguen?

Le veré en infierno,
Cervatillo

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Maybe live music should die. As people tear-jerk over the "death of the live show", maybe it ain't so bad. After all, there's good reason. Take the Boredom's Mythical Super Spirit of '77 Drum Circle Happening/Performance/Show over the weekend, for example.

The Boredoms are cool. So is the idea of a 77 drummer, spiral drum circle performance in Empire-Fulton Ferry State Park in Dumbo on July 7th, 2007.

Sounds great, right? Did I mention it was free? Sounding even better? And, unfortunately it was handled by ultra-hip Vice (and JellyNYC), so after all these years, and all their success, they should know what they're doing, right?

Wrong. You had to RSVP via their site, see. But RSVPing didn't guarentee shit. Instead, you were instructed that there was an overwhelming response to the show, and that you may or may not get in. Even before this was published. They also said that you'd be sent an email on Friday informing you if you made the cut... (More bitching after the jump...)

So at 7:50 PM on Friday, I get this:

BOREDOMS 77BOADRUM - RSVP information

Thank you for RSVPing to tomorrow's BOREDOMS 77BOADRUM performance.

Your name has been added to the RSVP list for the event. HOWEVER, the RSVP response has been overwhelming - which means that we CANNOT guarantee admission, except on a first come-first served basis. We cannot overstate this: Not everyone will be allowed in.

The line will begin at the corner of New Dock and Water Street at 2:30pm. Please do NOT arrive before 2:30pm as the police stationed there will ask you to move along. Doors will open at 4pm. After we hit capacity, we can only admit you on a one-in, one-out basis.

PLEASE BE PREPARED TO WAIT, OR TO BE TURNED AWAY.

Use of public transport is highly recommended. The closest MTA stops are York Street on the F train, Clark Street on the 2 and the 3 trains, and Cadman Plaza on the A and C trains.

Starting at 4pm will be DJ sets by Gang Gang Dance, and live performances from Soft Circle and First Nation. 77BOADRUM will begin at 7pm and end with the sunset.

BOREDOMS request that you leave your cameras at home for 77BOADRUM. In their words, "We want people to remember in their mind, not in their camera." (pft. yeah right...) It's looking like it will be beautiful day so remember to bring sunscreen.

Hey, guess what, I have a request that you anticipate response of over 12,000 and host the fucking show properly.

I also request that you don't implement some faux-RSVP bullshit that's as useful as a third nut.

While we're at it, I request that if you know that the "park" capacity is 4000 people, then you use The Power of The InterWeb and it's InterWeb Technologys to count the first 4000 RSVPs, after which you can begin informing RSVP#4001; "Hey, sorry, you didn't make the cut. Tough shit."

Better yet, I request that you record this to HD and pipe it into my living room.

Varingly credible reviews here, here and here.

Posted by admin at 08:58 PM | Permalink | Comments (377) | TrackBacks (0)

I'm working to bring you the goods... But it's tough, see...

Meanwhile my girl sent me this gem, which reminds me; how much is a picture worth?

Posted by admin at 09:28 PM | Permalink | Comments (1) | TrackBacks (0)