Lights by Home Depot's "You're a Star Collection"

NIKOLAI BROKE THE ZOOM!

This is all fine and good, but where the F is JFATS?

This warms the heart

Albert and Fab hug it out at the Palace Theatre last week, waiting to see Jules perform. (Image from Laweekly.com)

space ships, they don't understand

NY Magazine has a feature this week about famous people and their first experiences when they moved to NYC. Albert had this to say:Albert Hammond Jr., musician

Arrived: 1998

Getting a job at Kim’s Video was harder than joining a band. It was ridiculous: You had to know someone. But I had just moved from L.A., trying to get away from my friends who were slow and didn’t want to do anything but get fucked up. I finally met this guy name Aurelio from the band Calla, and one day he called and said, “Hey, there’s a position for you, do you want it?” I was like, “I’ve dropped off tons of résumés, now I can just get the job?”

It was only a month after living here that I met Julian Casablancas. His father had a modeling agency called Elite, and I walked in one day after recognizing his name on the door. We quickly moved into an apartment on 18th Street. We each had a bathroom, which was the reason why we got it (he’s a mess, I’m neat). When I met Julian, I told him I played guitar. He said, “That’s funny, we’re looking for a guitar player.” So I tried out, but what I didn’t know is that he had already decided I would be in the band.

We were really ambitious. It’s all Julian and I spoke about every night. We set a goal of playing shows within a year. At first, we didn’t go out anywhere cool—just Rudy’s, which was near the studio and had free hot dogs and $5 pitchers. But slowly we’d go to bars like Don Hill’s and Bar 13 to promote, handing out flyers with stuff from weird seventies soft-porn movies like Emmanuelle. They started to recognize us—“Oh, there’s the guys from the Strokes hanging out”—and as a group the five of us were a pretty striking image. We were really cocky. Not in a bad way, we just believed in ourselves and so we were always balls to the wall.

can't get you out of my head

1st the bad news: the Cribs cancelled their Sept. 5 gig at Irving Plaza. Oh well, whenever the Jarmans return to the USA it'll be worth the wait.

2nd the good news: yesterday Rebecca and I got on the subway in Grand Central, luckily passing by a Hudson News where James Franco's hotass face called to us from the glass windows. L train reading material!

L train because yesterday was the Albert Hammond Jr. show at McCarren Park Pool, and by AHJ show, I mean Regina Spektor show. The crowd makeup was hilarious. I hadn't realized that the neo-Lillith Fair-ites would be hugging and kissing and swaying in the rainy breeze. Otherwise I may have worn a flowered maxi dress. In any case, the crowd showed Albert little to no love, except for me, Rebecca, the Amer family, and the group of boys I see at pretty much every show I go to in this city.

Albert's show was solid. His playing faces kill me, and we all know I'm a sucker for the windmill. Matt Romano rocked it with his hideous facial hair and a Hawaiian shirt. Marc the guitarist really has fun while playing, esp during "Postal Blowfish," and who wouldn't? My favorite song of the set was "Feed Me Jack." Here's a 14 sec. video from my shit LG to enjoy. (I busted my digital camera in a 1/2 drunken rage.)

Literally after the final note of "Feed Me Jack," it started to rain. The crowd promptly created an umbrella canopy. We decided to move back because all the young, hugging girls got a little too giddy for the upcoming set. Plus our stomachs began to eat themselves. Oh, HEY, they only sold hamburgers and hotdogs, thanks!

Aside: while waiting for Regina, I tried to follow Ryan Gentles around the perimeter of the pool. As I told Rebecca, at this point in my life (aka having not seen Julian alive in over a year) I am not below 6th Stroke level stalking. Well, congratulations, WizKid. You are one swift mother fucker. Blink one time, and that short, well-suited sidler will be gone.

Regina Spektor: just like the 1st time I saw her 5 yrs ago while opening for the Strokes on their Room on Fire tour, she's seriously wild and crazy. The only difference is that she gets to play on a better piano now and people actually like her. She's a little too "cutesy" for my taste, but her impeccable voice sounds better live than on record. Plus, she played every single song of hers that I like, including "That Time," "Poor Little Rich Boy," "The Flowers," "Love Affair," "Somedays," "Ghost of a Corporate Future," and my personal favorite, "Summer in the City." The latter gave me serious chills, as it's probably one of the most accurately written heartbroken songs of all time. Yeah, a serious claim, but one I find to be true both emotionally and physically.

We left before the onslaught of glowstick-bedecked women and the people they love (somehow a large plastic bin of purple glowstick bracelets was unleashed midway thru the show) could overrun us. Headed to Dan's to hang out with him and Zeke and ended the night in Brooklyn the way it began: traipsing thru the unnumbered streets of the 2nd borough.

Final thoughts: AHJ is super skinny. Like as in his pants hang off him. Also, Tony's pizza on Grand is amazing. Also Ralph's Ice. And Michael Phelps is a maniac! I love being off the chain and you know how I get when I'm in BROOKLYN!

you'll sleep tonight dream dreams where i would die

On this fine Friday I finally found time to d/load the free video of AHJ's "NYC" performance (oh, hey WizKid, thanks for specifying which concert it was.) After some minor freak-out attacks, I realized from Alb's apparel that this was not, in fact, the infamous 2007 Hiro Ballroom show, aka the first time I ever saw Agyness Deyn, but more commonly acknowledged as THE LAST NIGHT I SAW JULES ALIVE. But seriously, the concert is great, so thanks for handing out those little download codes like leftover cookies from a middle school bake sale.

Last night Scott and I went to Bklyn to see Dan, and by sheer miracle we ran into Franzman and DiBiasio. Beautiful. P.S. Dan lives in a perfect location, complete with a fucking Ralph's within a 2 block radius from his apt. LUCKY!

Future Titles for Dissertations
1. McGinley vs. Schiele: or, How Many Naked Dudes Does it Take to Make Great Art?
2. Dennis Hopper: The American Dream, "It's a crack pot idea!"
3. Psychology TODAY: The Cult of the Muse, (From Pollis to Belmondo, Why Am I 30 and Still Boy Crazy?)

Future Titles for Books
1. My Dirty Emotional Rescue (Ha, stole that one from Scott.)
2. Always Thirsty for Diet or Stronger, a memoir
3. Cigarettes and Teeth, poems


Tonight: Fats Fats DOUBLE FATS in the city. (You know what that means. Wrunkles will be out in rare form!)

i don't think that we're bad, don't think we're bad at all

So I finally decided to start a real blog.

That being said, last night I saw Albert Hammond Jr. at Virgin in U.Square. Not sure of the setlist since I don't have the new album memorized yet, but he played In My Room, GfC, Everyone Gets a Star, Rocket, Victory At Monterey (which is awesome) G Up, and I think a few more.

After the show, Albert, Matt Romano, Marc Philippe Eskenazi, and the two touring musicians (sorry, don't know their names) talked to fans and signed albums.

Matt Romano gave himself a Cindy Crawfordesque beauty mark, ooh la la.

Needless to say, it was a pretty great short concert, and I got to meet another member of The Strokes.

Today I realized that it's almost a year to the day that the Cribs released Men's Needs, Women's Needs, Whatever. Anyone who knows me knows I played that record out in the best way possible last summer, and for me that album will always have the nostalgic honor of being the one I listened to while I learned how to navigate the MTA. So for old time's sake, here's a photo Scott took of Ryan Jarman from last summer's show.

So I started thinking about this summer's album, and hand's down, it's the debut album by The Virgins. I've been conflicted since seeing them live this NYE at the Mercury Lounge, the conflict being that their EP The Virgins-07 sounded a hell of a lot better than their live act. However, they have two things on their side:

1. A Strokes-lite sound mixed with the Rolling Stones circa "Emotional Rescue" and a little Elvis Costello thrown in the mix. And while I am the first to resent bands that get early buzz with all media outlets comparing lead singers' lazy drawls to that of Julian Casablancas (I foolishly boycotted Arctic Monkeys for a while because of this), here the comparison is mildly admissable but a little misleading.

and 2. Donald Cumming is a lead singer as sublime as Mick Jagger. He's got just the right amount of ugly like Ryan Jahhhman, and he's as bored on stage as J-Fats circa the Room on Fire tour. A google search of "Donald Cumming" yields more results than Rebecca and I walking out of American Apparel. The guy has been Ryan McGinley's muse (which is enough of a kicker on its own), a film star (Bugcrush), a cinematographer (Billy the Kid), a model (see DNA Models), and just generally intriguing. Plus from all accounts found thru google (gotta love it) he's serious about making music. Donald has time to work on it, and thanks to his passion and fucked up teeth (a vice of mine since Billy Corgan) I can let his skills from 7 months ago slide.

(image from http://nylonmag.com/summertour)

So check out The Virgins if you get a chance. The album is addicting, especially the closer "Love Is Colder Than Death," which accompanies me on my commute to Chelsea on repeat.