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My man and his lady have announced their new letterpress business. This is what they say:

Letterpress Love from Thunderwing Press

I'm excited to share with you the very first online mention of our letterpress venture, Thunderwing Press, on Lord Whimsy's fascinating blog:

This is also an announcement that we are officially open for business!

So remember us for all your custom letterpress, and bookbinding projects.

(Including wedding and party invitations, stationery, business and calling cards, journals, and whatever else you're dreaming of).

Lots of deeply debossed letterpress love,

Jennifer and Nic.

Contact us at: thunderwingpress@gmail.com
And as we add projects: Thunderwingpress.com

This is good or several reasons. First, Nic is an excellent designer. Second, good luck finding anyone will to do small run letterpressing for you these days. As an aside, I don't know his lady, but she seems pretty rad. As another aside, my man has a band named Thunderwing in Chicago. Bravo.

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PDF's are a pain in the ass already, but now this?

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Like I said, whoa...

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After playing some cards last night, I decided to be a man and, yet again, keep it real. So I ambled down to The Bowery to see Prefuse 73 play with some other bands about the number seven, and blue coves with Unicorns, or something.

I've told you about The Bowery Ballroom before, and at $15 the price was right to see one of my favorite electronic musicians.

More after The Jump...

The good part is that Scott Herren seemed to have broken the shackles of having John Herndon play with overbear him every fucking live show. Don't get me wrong, Tortoise's drummer is awesome, but in a wanking, jazzy sort of way. His chops always seemed to smother Herren's beats and not accentuate them.

No more though, because seemingly Herren has settled on a drummer who fits the bill snugger than my penis in your mother's anus. I'm sure I could find out for sure, but I wonder if this percussionist contributed a lion's share of sampling for the recordings. Sounds like it, but who the fuck knows?

Also, to the live act, there is the addition of a lanky, knob-twiddler that resembles John Kransinski from The Office.

I missed Blank Blue, and I guess Voice of the Seven Woods was too busy being English to make it across the pond. In his place, however, was Brooklyn band, School of Seven Bells. Fronted by two cute girls, and backed by a bass playing laptop guy and a whistley guitarist, they sounded great, despite what they've posted on MySpace. The girls were channeling Stereolab a bit too much for my taste, and the guitar work was more afterthought than thoughtful, but hey. It's never easy to pull off hybrid band shit. You can tell that these four have spent some time together working it out.

Later in the set, as Prefuse reached for a guitar, I reached for the door and split. The point is, catch the rest of his tour if possible, and take a listen to his supporting acts. Enjoy.

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It's not very Billyburg Hip to recycle other, more competent site's posts. I know.

But consider this proping rather than recycling. Tipped hats all around to Wonkette and this dude, or girl, or pony, for keeping the 411 on everyone's favorite lesbian politician.

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In the spirit of "cyber-monday", post "black friday", I aim to keep it real. But I'm not really sure what black dudes are into these days.

According to this high-profile New York City advertising campaign, as seen above, dudes be rockin' Batman.

Rest easy, The Black Bat has got you covered. I've always found that to Shop Iced out Pimp and Ho Gear was pricey, but TBB's got a line on some inside shit.

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Anyone who has ever gigged, knows what a pain in the ass it is to move gear. Enter the band van, which has made it possible for generations of rockers to play shows, smoke weed, and get laid.

I got this "ad" from La Otracina today offering their moving services for hire:

Attention Bands in NYC/Brooklyn!!!! Attention Bands in NYC, need van transportation to-from your gigs?!

Call Man-Van NOW for transportation of all your music related gear moving needs, whether it's to-from gigs, sessions, etc...

SPECIAL to-from gig rate!!: Going with your gear from Williamsburg/Bushwick/Greenpoint/Lower Manhattan to a gig in Williamsburg/Bushwick/Greenpoint/Lower Manhattan, round trip pick-up/drop-off, only $45!!! Better than any car-service you can find!

Call now to reserve for your upcoming show! 917 637 0070

thanks-
MAN-VAN

Sure it's a pretty blatant bite of infamous Man with a Van, and they're not sure if they should spell it all caps or sentence case, and if you're not playing in lower Manhattan or Williamsburg you're SOL, but fuck it...

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All you need to know about this is MBV, Verve (with original guitarist), and Broken Social Scene.

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Not only does Slash speak, but he is also literate and fairly eloquent.

On the one hand, seeing Slash rock the same look from 20 years ago is endearing. On the other, seeing him speak about his book on Conan is saddening. How old do you feel today?

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My day was looking pretty shitty until A Special, Secret Operative just fast tracked this to me. I like getting high and all, just like the next guy. But I ain't huffing my own piss and shit. But that's what the kids are into these days. Where? Florida, of course.

Please don't skip over the list of "Slang terms" at the bottom. Butthash? Runners? Leroy Jenkems? Hahhaaahhaaaa... Today is the best day ever now.

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So I trekked down to San Diego to check it out and visit an old friend, seen here holding a ray gun that was virtually modeled and prototyped in one multi-colored piece by some sort of machine from the future that laser lathed it from a solid plastic block. Yeah. This is why the U, S, and A is most glorious nation, and it is our God-given right to parent the globe.

All I know is that my boy has always been a smart cookie, and now finds himself as the CRCA (Center for Research in Computing & the Arts) Technical Director at The University of Califronia San Diego, or UCSD. I walked around the campus, and got a tour of his facility. UCSD is a big science and biotech school, with whole buildings dedicated to magnetism and shit. Plus, there were lots of asian students walking around. As such, I feel slightly better that we stand at least a tiny chance against China for the upcoming New Super Big Superpower Global Election.

Btw, If you know anything about what Max is, I got to meet Miller Puckette there too! I was introduced to him by my man as; "Bob from New York" to which he said, "Now there's a city." Goodtimes.

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Do you like Frank Gehry? I bet you do you filthy swine.

Oh look, it's a basically the same thing fresh Frank Gehry structure in downtown [insert city here]. I guess this houses Walt Disney's Flying Socialist Opera or something.

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It's nice to know that no matter how fucked the world is, America's west coast is connected to a beautiful and mysterious other land called California. In this part of the world, everything is perfect.

But don't take my word for it. Consult the Voice of Truth and Clarity that is The Media. Just to the left of the Jail Bait Column, this Coast News headline reads:

Perfect swell turns to surfing the ring of fire.

The flat spell continued like an ancient plague, as day after day micro swells softly peaked and fell, slapping the sand or rising barely beyond waist-high for us, the surfers of North County...

So, basically the Southern California wild fires sucked because of surfing infringement. Or something. Brah.

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My boy took me to the US Open for my birthday this year. I'm not a big tennis fan, but I have to admit that it was alot of fun. We had Ground’s Passes which means you can walk around the grounds, and have access to everything except Arthur Ashe Stadium.

The USTA Billie Jean King National Tennis Center is out in Queens, across from Shea. All of this excitement happened a while ago, and Fedder won, of course, so BFD.

A bunch of pictures after the jump...

(Interestingly, the blue thing in the far background is the current Shea Stadium and the cranes to the right of it is the site where the new Shea is being built.)

(Ground’s Pass is cool, because you can wander around and get close to some "action".)

(Only white people are allowed to attend the US Open. The resultant white-out causes a massive glare, which is why sunglasses are standard issue. Asians are allowed to attend only after a careful "Proper Polo" screening by Jimmy Connors, and a special khaki fitting by John McEnroe.)

(My man [frame right] was clearly bored with the mixed doubles matches, although I found them delightful.)

(I guess the old dude [bottom, frame left] was Roger Fedder's father. All these haggy tennis star-fuckers were sweating him. The lesson here is to have a superstar son, so that you can dick around and get free shit later in life.)

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Figuring out a good band name is a big deal. I have some favorites; Today's My Super Spaceout Day, ...And You Will Know Us By The Trail of Dead, and Cannibal Corpse are a few. Two out of three of the former are really long names, so maybe that's partly why I dig the Brooklyn-based trio; A Place To Bury Strangers.

The other reason is that they are searingly loud and fuzzy, and yet another example of The Return of Spacerock. That said, they still maintain some of the new new wave song structure and sensibility that the kids are digging these days.

Oh yeah, I took these High Resolution Photographs of the band at their free show in the LES sometime ago. In fact, I ran into unbeknownst uberfan, Matt Damon, who had these to say about these neo-gazers:

"A Place To Bury Strangers totally rocks. I think anyone who's not a dick with ears would be into them." —Matt Damon

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Holy. Fucking. Shit.

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(And yes, Dog Elvis is sporting the Red Lipstick, how horrifying. Indecent.)

After the brunch where we sighted fisty and his two little geniuses, I was strolling home past Tompkins. I saw an abnormally large group of people by the dog run. See, in NYC people either feel the need to own dogs and cram them in tiny apartments, or stand around and watch other people's dogs at city park runs.

(PS. What's this racist shit? Were all the Chocolate Lab owners dressing their dogs up in blackface?)

But today was no ordinary day. I realized that the commotion was for a "Pet Halloween Show" at the park. All pet owners deserve a solid beating no matter what, but I had a special vendetta for the owner-animal duo I was passing. Not only did this dude dress up his animal as Elvis, but he also made a considerably intricate stage/float for his cur. What an asshole. Everyone knows Elvis was semi-retarded, and a total rat narc who didn't share his drugs.

As I continued by this public embarrassment, I gazed sadly into little Dog Elvis' eyes, and saw that, "Yeah man, can you believe this asshole? Look at me! But what the fuck is a dog gonna do? I gotta eat..." look. Tragic.

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My girl fucked her sinuses on the plane out west, and suffered ear "blockage". Her headcold and the pressurized cabin didn't play nice.

Clearly the best remedy was to buy one of the crackpot holistic ear wax candles and fire it up. Except that we were in Los Angeles, which is in California, so we tried to do it in the car in public at a post office.

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In an effort to catch up on missed posting, I saw this band Mahogany play. They were third act with Soundpool whom I've talked about before, and headliner Ulrich Schnauss.

Mahogany has been around for awhile, and I guess at least some of the band lives in Brooklyn. Musically, they fall somewhere in the Solexx, or Broadcast, millionth generation MBV spawn or something...

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I spent some time in beautiful downtown LA, where I had never been to before.

The Los Angeles Department of Transportation has this wicked (west coast lingo ala early 90's) building. Deeper digging reveals this dude designed it. Nice job, Thomas Mayne.

A couple more after the jump...

(Ooo, Ooo, it looks like wood planks, but actually it's molded concrete. Crafty!)

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Cheney-style...

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Maybe he's "fast-talking and feisty-looking", but his kids? Not so much.

Last weekend, me, my girl and her friend grabbed some brunch at Life in the Village. As we were crossing the street, 2 little kids were riding training wheeled bikes in a single file fashion.

The first kid looked at us, saw how awesome we were, and stopped dead in his (or her) tracks. This caused the little genius behind him (or her) to crash into him (or her).

Everyone looked to the embarrassed looking parent bringing up the rear, and it was John Leguizamo.

This post is awesome.

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