What do you talk about when you have 45 minutes to hang with the cool guy who started a cool snowboard company? You talk clothes, of course. Check it out.
Your definitive resource. That's all, just your definitive resource.
27 September 2007
26 September 2007
A PUBLIC PLEA
Oops, almost wrote, "A Pubic Flea."
Daily, I take a few pills that cause me to bruise easily, which is saying something, because without the pills, I bruise easily, but, shit, you should see these pill-induced bruises, awesome. Kinda like angry waves in the ocean, but with a bit more purple. On the upside, I'm bionic! Which is good, because this is how I'm gonna win the 100 meters in the next Olympics, whose trials are sometime soon, and in Asia, so I think I will just run over there, knock it out, and run back to Chicago, where I have much work to do, specifically writing my thesis: Uncanny Circumstances in Zombie Musicals and the Play of Children, wherein I describe the increasing and, frankly, frightening preponderance of meatballs in non-spaghetti items. Spaghetti, by the way, is not from the Serengeti, as you might suppose. It's from Brooklyn.
But I was talking about bruises, which I have many of, because my furniture insists on jumping in front of me, arbitrarily, as though it doesn't have anything better to do, though I know it does, I put things on it, someone has to hold up the piles, but I suppose I should occassionally turn on the lights, which are illuminating, and then I'd be able to see the vicious moves of the malicious furniture, but if I did that, then I wouldn't have the name of my new, new wave band: Vicious Malicious, in which I wear an A-line dress with yellow tulips on it, go-go girl boots, and a cowboy hat. There will be a screen behind Vicious Malicisou that will broadcast all my films, specifically my thesis film: Uncanny Circumstances in Gothic Novels and the Play of Dolphins, wherein Soundgarden plays uncontrollably dense classical music, possibly covers of Beethoven, but sometimes you can never really tell with Soundgarden. Especially now, since they no longer exist.
Ninethly, Vicious Malicious will break up in 2.3 years. I know this because I have recently become certified in 8-ball reading, and this is a skill that will far surpass typing in terms of Skills Upon Which I Can Depend If I Lose My Current Job. Although, it's hardly likely that I will lose my current job. There's not such a backlog of humans who desire nose picking as a career and really, I am the best ever, and I'm being modest when I say that. I have references, I'll be happy to send those to you if you doubt me.
But I was talking about dolphins, which means, I need to find go-go girl boots before October 31, or all of music history will be destroyed and crumbled into little bits of charred bone for Vicious Malicious will not be able to proceed into geniusness and this means THE WHOLE WORLD WILL WITHER AND DIE, so I certainly hope if you, or anyone you know, knows where I can buy white, knee-high, low-heeled boots in a size 7, that you will tell me and save the world.
24 September 2007
I AM VERY BUSY I CAN'T STAY LONG
I am firing XRT. They were my go-to background music, mostly because they play music and then when the DJs talk they are not colossal pig-faced freakazoids like on other radio stations where they talk about what they did last night and how hung over they are and if I want that, I will talk to myself.
But today, in a huff, I flipped on the radio, expecting to hear mellow Sunday music because I have to write a lot and I don't have time to dilly dally nor do I have time to watch 3 hours of skateboarding in which Shaun White could've won the overall title of Some Really Important Skateboarding Series, and almost nearly didn't because some dude with a Frawnch name nailed about three million front-side 900s and scored a 93, which is, apparently, the awesomest thing ever since wheels were invented, but Shaun pulled it out, ladies and gentlemen, which means he's a god on wheels and a god on the snowboard and just for your information, I learned this week that snowboarders are not snowboarders, they are "riders" and skateboarders are not riders, they are "skaters." So please correct that in your programs.
Anyhow, good thing I don't know that about the skateboarding thingymabob because that gave me lots of time to do my writing and that's when I decided to fire XRT. I like XRT, even if that means I'm an aging hippie and even if that means I am "out of it." I like them because occassionally the beginning of a song scratches, or they intro one song and then another plays, and then I realize that there's actually a human somewhere pressing knobs and turning dials and that makes music a lot better. At least in my book. Maybe it doesn't in yours, but I've grown accustomed to humans and I like to know when they're around.
But today I turned on XRT and they were playing "I Knew the Bride When She Used to Rock N Roll," and I thought it was a bit, or part of that morning show thing where they answer questions from listeners like, "Why do people do the chicken dance at weddings?" And the answer is always, "Beer."
But, no. They were playing "I Knew the Bride When She Used to Rock N Roll" for real. The whole thing, no interruptions, no sound of a scratching needle (needles--those pointy things that used to touch records in order for songs to come out)(records--those black things with grooves in them that have songs on them)(records--also good for frisbee when you don't have a frisbee and you're in a pinch). So I changed the channel.
On Q101 they were playing a Cyndi Lauper cover song sung by a bunch of dudes with guitars. Then they played a song that sounded suspiciously like "Stone in Love" from Journey, not that I'm a huge Journey fan or anything, but if I was, I would tell you that "Escape" is one of the all-time best albums ever and also, those white Nikes with the red stripe and the blue slip around the heal and the triangle toe, I had those, and I had those because Steve Perry had those and I am secure enough in own skin to admit to that, hypothetically speaking.
And then Q101 played the Beastie Boys, but not the I've-found-peace-in-Tibet Beasties, the I-party-in-Brooklyn-fuck-you Beasties, and then I was like, "What is going on? What year is this?" And now I'm wondering if there's any radio station in Chicago that plays songs created IN THIS CENTURY so now I'm firing Q101, too.
This is clearly a call for iTunes. Always good to know you can spend 500 million dollars on music without even knowing it. Not that that's happened, I am as good at budgeting the millions of dollars I have as I am at budgeting the time I have and that's why I am so prolific and so rich.
Right now on iTunes: Tool. In which he repeatedly says, "Fucker." This is what I'm talkin' about, XRT and Q1-oh-stupid.
Also in local news, "Stick It" is not an instructional DVD, it's a movie, and it's about gymnastics, and you would know this if you rode your bicycle to the Kasey's in Seneca, IL, and you bought a Snickers and while you ate that Snickers you walked around the store, anxiously waiting for the woman in the women's bathroom to hurry up because 30 ounces of Gatorade sure does pass through the system quickly and also, DO NOT GO IN THE MEN'S ROOM, it is gross and what those dudes think passes for clean is frightening, though I don't have time to comment on it because I am very busy being prolific and rich, so please stop asking me so many questions.
16 September 2007
The best thing about fall is the smell of burning leaves. Unless they're in your house, in which case, burning leaves suck. Also great about fall: wool socks. Unless you've worn them for three days in a row, in which case, you'll have lots of personal space. And that leads me, logically, to bike rides. Riding with The Writers is a whole new experience. This is what I learned last weekend:
1. "Tiny Dancer" and "Private Dancer" can be combined, brazenly, to make: "Hold me closer private dancerrrrrrr . . . " OR "I'm your tiny dancer, dancer for mo-neeeeeeee . . . " and I think we can all admit that the difference there is minimal, unless you are the dancer in question, in which case, if you’re the tiny dancer dancing for money, do you make less? And do you still get to lay down in sheets of linen? Are there sheets of linen or did I make up that line, much like I made up, "'Scuse me while I kiss this guy," and spent years assuming Jimi Hendrix was gay.
3. You're not, that's how.
4. Sometimes, when there's construction, not all signage is blatantly obvious.
11 September 2007
09 September 2007
THE HIDEOUT BLOCK PARTY
Music Review--Day Two
Looking to take the fastest route to Uncoolville? Say this at The Hideout's Block Party: "Art Brut? Who's he?"
Guess what? Art Brut is not a "he." Art Brut is a "they." Likewise, Steely Dan is not a "he," Steely Dan is a "they." It's true! Also, the singer for Art Brut is an English bloke with a wad of almost-raunchy jokes in his pocket and an easygoing charm that more than made up for his apparent and incessant need to show off his beer belly. Also, they felt like they brought England with them to the festival, so that was kinda cool. Meteorologically confusing, but cool. Also, that was a great damn time, that Art Brut show.
But who played before Art Brut? Who shook the world? WHO MAKES LIFE WORTH LIVING?
MUCCA PAZZA IS LOVE, PEOPLE, GO GET YOU SOME!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Apparently there were other bands besides Art Brut and the great and awesome MUCCA PAZZA, but Team Power Love was too busy taking the above amazingly-focused, really close up pictures and interviewing high-profile rocker types to see any other sets. This jet setting rock and/or roll lifestyle is BANANAS. B-A-N-A-N-A-S!
Ohmygod--look who showed up! It's the skyline! Hello, skyline!
08 September 2007
HIDEOUT BLOCK PARTY
A Music Review--Day One
Last night it rained. That part sucked. But it only rained while Michael and I were sitting outside eating, so we had that going for us, which was good. Also, the Dali Lama loves me, so I'm so getting into the heaven neither he nor I believe exists. It's quite possible I may end up a flower, though, so that'd be cool.
Anyway, this is a weather report, not an I-may-be-a-flower report. When it stopped raining, we did cartwheels all the way to The Hideout. There was a festival of music there. Also, many people.
I didn't get a picture of The Changes show because I was busy getting my all-access press/photog pass, the use of which came in handy as I took some exceptionally close, exceptionally focused pictures later on in the evening, the evidence of which you will see soon. Anyway, this is a weather report, not an I'm-so-cool-I'm-with-the-press report.
The Changes: There weren't that many people there for this one. I kinda thought maybe everyone knew something I didn't 'cause I was looking forward to seeing The Changes, but mostly because they were one of my first friends on MySpace and they sent me a message and that made me happy. MySpace is kinda a sea of confusion when you first jump in. Anyway, this is weather report, not I'm-a-geek-on-MySpace report. The Changes. The first few songs were pretty okay, except that, from the parking lot where the show was, you could see the Sears Tower, the King Friday's castle building, and the Amoco Building, or Aon Center, for those of you new to the city, and so, with that as a backdrop, you have to be either Prince or Axl Rose to get my attention, neither of whom is in The Changes. But you know, good rock. A guitar. Drums. Singer dude. Bass dude. Some form of keyboard thing that may or may not have been a "synth" as those of us hyper cool Things With Knobs people call that thing. Is a synth the long board version of "keys"? I will have to gather a panel of surfers and music dudes to discuss this.
HOWEVER, the third to last song in The Changes's set, the singer dude got on the drums and played what I think was the snare with what I think was a maracca and did so while holding the mic in his other hand and singing very well and very much along with the rest of the music and it was look-away-from-the-skyline enjoyable. And also, holy shit, dude. That is a lot going on. Way to rock it. And then the second to last song was also just as snare-with-a-maracca wow and so then I knew that I loved The Changes. And then the last song was a regular old rock song, but we here at Team Power Love love the regular old rock songs, so drink beer!
1900s. I think I'm missing the boat on these peeps. Harmonizing is awesome. And pretty. Also, having just as many women as men in your band is excellent. Also, having a lot of spirit when you play is excellenter. Except I wasn't feeling it. According to everyone standing around us, this is The Next Chicago Band. These fuckers haven't seen Things With Knobs, obviously. But anyway, everything in this set was tight and pretty and energetic, but my feet started hurting and I wanted another beer and usually I don't think about my feet or beer when I'm swept away by music. But everyone else loves this band, so maybe don't take my word for it. Neither Prince nor Axl Rose is in this band.
Bloc Party. Holy shit. What I'm sayin' is--if you have a guitar and stacked speakers, why NOT rip into it until the speakers blow up and out across the parking lot in which your playing? WHAT THE HELL ELSE ARE YOU SUPPOSED TO DO WITH GUITARS AND SPEAKERS! RIGHT! FUCKIN ROCK THAT SHIT! So there's the guitar dude who is very skinny and is quite possibly 14, though maybe older, though I hate it when people assume I'm younger than I am, so maybe he's 86, who knows, but my point is, this dude is awesome and if you let him, he will crawl inside your brain and kick the shit out of your frontal lobe and you know what? You should let him. Frankly, your frontal lobe's not do you any favors anyway.
The lead singer has a British accent. He said, "Are yoo reh-ay to geh down?" and "Are yoo reh-ay to pah-ay?" And maybe something about fish and chips, how would I know, THERE WERE GUITAR NOTES FLYING OUT OF THE SPEAKERS! And they played an encore. And it was great. And this is the first show of their just-launched-last-night tour, so it was probably the worst show they're gonna have and it was awesome, though not as good as others, as told to me by fans, but I wouldn't know, I've never seen them before, but I was thoroughly impressed and that music wrapped around me and danced with me and made me very happy and I couldn't stop moving and . . . yeah. Neither Prince nor Axl Rose is in Bloc Party. Bloc Party does not need them.
07 September 2007
HEY! WHAT ARE YOU DOING THIS SUNDAY?
May I suggest going to Webster's Wine Bar for the fabulous 2nd Story storytelling hoo-ha. It'll be great fun and I can personally attest to the fact that there are 4 righteously awesome stories that will be told.
THINGS WITH KNOBS WILL BE MAKING AN APPEARANCE! WITH SPECIAL GUEST: DJ MILES BEYOND!
Prepare for greatness, people.Details:
Webster's Wine Bar
1480 W Webster
MORE INFO HERE: http://www.storiesandwine.com/.
06 September 2007
I'M ON A BUS ON A PSYCHEDELIC TRIP READING MURDER BOOKS TRYIN TO STAY HIP
How to Procrastinate: A Primer
It's probably the Universe speaking to you when you go to the coffeehouse you always go to and their power is out. Coincidence? I don't think so. There was no electricity in The Coffeehouse of Ideas, where I keep my secret stash of inspiration under one of the benches and without electricity, you cannot have espresso drinks, which leaves me with a dead brain. Also, without electricity, you cannot get a grilled cheese sandwich on a croissant. This is like being kicked in the teeth by a boot with forks for soles. Then, there's the whole lack of a/c thing happening, which is exactly why I left my apartment in the first place.
Alert Power Love readers: I love you, so I tell you this from the bottom of my heart: do not think that it's a good idea to bake a potato in your oven when it's 435 degrees outside with 234% humidity.
So that's how I ended up here, at this other coffeehouse. This one has furniture furniture, like someone put effort into picking it out, unlike The Coffeehouse of Ideas, which has a recently-poached-from-the-neighbor's-garbage vibe. This worries me, because I think I'm underdressed.
Now Playing: INXS! This Time! This time will be the last tiiiiime that we will fight like this.
The radio is blaring and the radio is playing songs from the early 90s, which is a bit of a time warp for me, or would be, if I could remember the early 90s, which I can't, probably because I was in undergrad at the time and I was a very serious major in Drinking and the Art of Barfing and I was an A+ student. Also, I had a soft spot for the much-maligned hallucinogenics, which apparently multiply once they come in contact with college campuses, so I spent a good deal of time wondering why all the greeks had snakes coming out of their heads and why all the hipsters wore face paint. Go Big 10! I-L-L! I-N-I!
Alert Power Love readers: I will tell you this because I love you: when you set up your computer by the window, you cannot see the screen. Perhaps you are saying to yourself, "Well, you're the one who stole that fine-tip pen from SomeoneWhoShallRemainNamelessJeff and you're the one who carries that ridiculous journal everywhere you go, so why not use it?" To which I say: THERE ARE PEOPLE WALKING BY THE WINDOW, ALONG THE SIDEWALK, AND THEY ARE DEMANDING TO BE STARED AT.
Now Playing: The Cult! Firewoman! Twisting like a flame on a hot tin shack.
Outside there is a brown-eyed boy with short hair and a guitar case strapped around his shoulders. He's all leaning forward skinny and earnest in his looking down the street. Next to him is a girl with braided blonde hair that snakes down her back and an orange tote with a huge green flower on it, hanging over her shoulder. She looks down the street, the opposite way from the boy, worried, like maybe this isn't where they were supposed to end up. They stand close to each other without touching, like they've known each other long enough to know it feels better to be close. He turns to look at her, her anxious and possibly plotting their next move, and he smiles. His eyes travel over her shoulders to her neck and then he slips his index finger and his middle finger into the palm of her hand and gently pulls her toward him and when she looks at him, he smiles huge and happy, and then they're walking away, south, down the street, and I see her wrap her fingers around his hand.
Now Playing: U2! Pride! One man comes in the name of love.
Nice timing, radio. The longer I sit here, the further back in time I go. Pretty soon I'll be singing the alphabet song and drinking from my sippy cup. I would so rock the guitar part in "Eyes Without a Face" if I was Billy Idol's guitar player. I really just want everyone to know that.
05 September 2007
"The real battle is you by yourself . . . "
Check out the two dudes about 6 mins in: they are music wrapped in human form.