It Takes A Lot to Laugh, It Takes A Blog to Cry

Here are...THE SONICS!!!

2007-11-12T14:58:00.001-05:00

It has taken me one week to fully recover from seeing rock 'n' roll legends The Sonics reunited at Warsaw in Brooklyn last Sunday. Why such a long recovery period? Let's just say that the reunited-Sonics that showed up at Cavestomp! turned out to be just as earth-shakin', bone-rattlin', and eardrum-splittin' as they were back when they were laying waste to dance halls across the Pacific Northwest in the 1960's. Oh, and just as I had always imagined, they were f@#&ing LOUD as sh*&!!!

The historic gig went down at Warsaw at Polish National Home in Greenpoint, Brooklyn. It's a fantastic venue that doubles as a Polish community center (they serve a mean pierogi, and Zywiec, a Polish beer, is the drink of choice). Before The Sonics took the stage, they were ably supported by The Wildebeests (from Scotland), The Lyres , and The Fleshtones. All the opening bands effectively pumped up the capacity crowd for the main event, especially The Fleshtones who were rocking out in their own backyard (they hail from Greenpoint, and played their paean to the neighborhood, "Destination: Greenpoint USA" to wild cheers); but listening to these openers was like nibbling on an appetizer while waiting for your New York strip steak to arrive -- a steak that has been slow-cooking for 35 years!

After The Fleshtones finished their set, the curtains were drawn shut on the stage. The audience waited with bated breath for nearly an hour -- well past midnight -- for the curtains to be flung open and the reunited heroes to be revealed. The delay was so long that I feared they might not play -- after all, Jerry Roslie has a notorious case of stage fright. But at about 12:30 AM, with the audience stamping their feet and chanting for The Sonics to take the stage, the famously savage three chord riff from "He's Waitin'" (Bb-F-G) was played, and the curtains were drawn open. Ladies and gentlemen, here are...THE SONICS!!!

Seeing The Sonics open with "He's Waitin'" ranks with my all-time favorite concert moments. It was a moment I had dreamed about for so long, that finally witnessing it gave me some wicked chills. Not only was it thrilling to finally see one of rock 'n' roll's greatest bands, but I was relieved and excited by the fact that Jerry Roslie's voice still sounds as sinister as ever. Even in old age (he had a recent heart transplant, to boot!) that dude can still let out a blood-curdling scream that sounds like Little Richard getting his teeth pulled. It was fantastic. He makes modern day screamers like Frank Black and the late Kurt Cobain sound like amateurs.

As I mentioned before, one of the best parts of the show was that the band was absolutely deafening. Larry Parypa shredded on The Sonics' classic primative riffs, and it was noted that the Epiphone guitar he was playing was the same guitar used on all of The Sonics' albums. Ricky Lynn Johnshon of The Wailers did a stellar job of pounding out The Sonics' caveman beats on the drums. Don Wilhem (of The Daily Flash) handled bass duties and sang a couple of the cover songs (can't remember which ones -- that's what happens when you wait a week to write up a review).

The two most entertaining members of the band turned out to be sax blaster Rob Lind, and of course, Jerry Roslie. Even though Roslie is the singer/songwriter of the group, Lind acted as frontman for the band in between songs. He was affable and introduced every number, occasionally with a joke. Before "Have Love Will Travel" he said, "This is for everyone out there that bought a Land Rover!" (The Sonics' cover of the Richard Berry classic infamously appeared in a 2005 commericial for the SUV) And if I remember correctly, Lind even sang "Walking the Dog."

In between songs, Roslie was silent and hid behind the giant Hammond organ he was playing. But as soon as a song started up, Roslie came to life. He made evil looking faces by arching his eyebrows, and hoisted his beer bottle during "Strychnine," implying that he was gulping down poison. The audience was delighted by his animated and inspired performance. Interestingly, there was palpable tension onstage between Parypa and Roslie. During a few songs, Roslie forgot when to come in with vocals after a chorus (I remember this happening during "Don't Be Afraid of the Dark" specifically), and Parypa would get visibly frustrated. On the other hand, Parypa often stretched his guitar solos out a little bit too long on a few songs (I clearly remember this happening during "Have Love Will Travel"), and Roslie would glance at his guitar player with distain. During tense moments like these, it started to make sense why The Sonics haven't graced a stage in more than three decades.

But most of these minor tiffs went unnoticed by the sold-out audience at the show. Throughout the set, Warsaw's dance floor bounced up and down like a trampoline as more than 1,000 Sonics fans danced and pogoed to classics like "The Hustler," "Boss Hoss," and "Shot Down." Despite the fact the show went well past 2 AM on a Sunday, the crowd acted more and more frenzied as The Sonics played on late into the night. The Tacoma quintet closed out their set with a blistering version of "Psycho," and their fans went absolutely bonkers. Take a look...

After The Sonics wailed on "Psycho," Cavestomp! emcee and Nuggets curator Lenny Kaye (who said "It's a Nugget if you dug it" about 15 times over the course of the evening) brought the band back out for a well-deserved encore. The Sonics immediately launched into, what else? "LOUIE LOUIE!" I've always thought that their cover of Louie was one of the most sinister versions out there, and it certainly sounded wicked that night. Something about the way Parypa bangs out that Bb chord (which is VERY uncoventional for a Louie arrangement) just sounds evil to me. Hearing them play it live sounded like a supersonic jet flying directly overhead.

To end the show, The Sonics played their first hit single, "The Witch." Before playing the song, Lind asked the audience the sing out the line "'Cause she's the witch!" because the whole show was being recorded for a live album and they wanted as much audience participation as possible on the song. The throng of fans obliged and the closing number turned into a raucous sing-a-long. So not only will there be a live album to document the show, but I am guessing there will be a DVD, too -- there were video cameras taping the performance from all angles.

I was feeling euphoric after witnessing The Sonics' historic reunion, and while lingering outside the club after the show, I noticed a familiar face in the crowd. That familiar face belonged to a man named Rosie who I met at this year's LouieFest in Spanaway, Washington. I went up and introduced myself to Rosie, who traveled from San Diego to see the gig. (turns out that Jerry Roslie is his second cousin!) After informing him that I had played at LouieFest, Rosie said, "Well, you know Buck and some of the Wailers are hanging out backstage -- you should go and say hello." Sounded like a plan to me!

Rosie led me back inside, and I got to say hello and chat with Buck Ormsby of The Wailers. We talked about LouieFest, Woodstick, and the album that The Wailers are currently working on. While talking to Buck, I noticed that The Sonics had emerged from backstage, and were now signing autographs and chatting with fans. Among the fans elbowing their way to get close to The Sonics were current chart-topping Swedish garage rockers, The Hives. I snapped this lousy picture while three members of The Hives chatted with their forebears, The Sonics:

All five of The Sonics mingled with their fans, taking pictures and autographing LPs and posters. They seemed genuinely grateful for the gratitude their fans were showering upon them. I even got them to John Hancock a couple of "Louie Louie" 7-inches!

Although their two Cavestomp! performances were advertised as a one-time only event, I can't imagine that they aren't going to play more shows. For one, the demand is so high for The Sonics right now (I highly doubt they could have sold out an NYC venue back in their hey day), and they would be silly to turn down the money. But more importantly, they proved that they haven't lost a step and and still out-rock bands half their age.

Frequently Achooed Question

2007-03-08T10:47:00.000-05:00

Q. Why do my eyes shut when I sneeze?

A. If your lids weren't closed, the force of the explosion would blow your eyeballs out and stretch the optic nerve, so your eyes would flop around and you'd have to point them with your hands to see anything.

Shameless Plug

2007-02-28T09:54:00.000-05:00

So there is this terrific magazine called Mental Floss, and they have been kind enough to ask me to write some parodies of school worksheets. I'll be writing about one a week for the next few months. Please visit their website and check it out. Also, buy lots of subscriptions!

A Banner Week for THE OFFICE

2007-02-27T08:46:00.000-05:00

It has been awhile since I last posted about my second favorite television program, The Office (my favorite show being, of course, 30 Rock). For fans of The Office, last week was momentous. Rainn Wilson, a.k.a. Dwight Schrute, hosted Saturday Night Live with musical guest Arcade Fire. I'll be honest, I only watched about 14 minutes of it, but those were 14 minutes of above average hilarity. Office fans around the globe must have been slapping their knees with delight at SNL's spoof of Dunder Mifflin. Check it out if you missed it:

But the highlight of the episode was the following digital short. It's tough to go wrong when you have a board room filled with characters named Mountain Joe, Crazy Carl, and Captain Pajama Shark.

But more significant to The Office's red letter week was the actual episode of The Office on Thursday. Yes, shockingly, Pam admitted to Roy that while they were engaged, she kissed Jim. Whoa! That's a bold confession, Pam! Roy and his brother responded by trashing a bar, then Roy vowed, "I am going to kill Jim Halpert." This week's episode is going to be a barnburner. Will Roy kill Jim? We shall have to wait until Thursday...

Be careful, Jim!

Why Ibrahim Allen, A Cabbie Who Drove Me From Morningside Heights Back To My Apartment Yesterday, Said He Allows Passengers To Have Sex In His Taxi

2007-02-25T12:47:00.000-05:00

1) "It's beautiful, man! What is wrong with two people making love? Nothing, man, nothing! I say let them make love. I have no problem with people making sex in my car. It's the continuation of life! It's why God put us here, man."

2) "When it is a red light, I like to turn around and watch."

Jury Duty!!!

2007-02-03T12:26:00.000-05:00

It arrived in the mail yesterday: my first ever jury summons! I must admit, I am beside myself with anticipation. I have to report to court on March 1st (the big one on Centre Street...you know, the one from Law & Order!!!). Anyway, it's probably illegal to do this, but I think I will use this blog as a forum to write about my experiences as a juror. So stay tuned...

The Hairs and Affairs of the Mayor

2007-02-01T23:52:00.000-05:00

My good friend Michael Russell once said that the amount of styling gel a man uses to spike his hair is directly proportionate to the amount of cocaine he snorts, i.e. "If your hair's got height, you've been sniffin' the white." Well, today when news broke about San Francisco Mayor Gavin Newsom's affair with the wife of his top aide, one citizen of San Francisco was quick to blame it on the copious amount of hair gel in the Mayor's hair.
CNN.com reported: "Tom Abbott, 36, an executive recruiter, said that having an affair with a loyal aide's wife was 'a total slimeball move. Any guy who puts that much mousse in his hair can't be trusted,' Abbott said. 'You don't screw over your own boys.' However, Abbott said, he would probably vote for Newsom."

Blame it on the mousse. I couldn't agree more.

Kind of Busy These Days...

2007-01-27T08:25:00.000-05:00

So instead of some boring blog entry about my life, please enjoy this video by Norwegian video-editing wunderkind, Lasse Gjertsen.

Most Excellent Music of 2006

2007-01-17T11:17:00.000-05:00

I know this is, um, 17 days late, but I finally got around to making a top 10 list of my favorite albums of 2006. One of my professors (the inimitable David Levithan) is conducting his 8th Annual Music Poll, and asked a bunch of people to submit their Top 10's of '06. Here's what I sent him:

1) The Decemberists, The Crane Wife
2) M. Ward, Post-War
3) Comets on Fire, Avatar
4) Jenny Lewis with the Watson Twins, Rabbit Fur Coat (Fun Fact: Lewis starred in The Wizard.)
5) The Black Keys, Magic Potion
6) The Hold Steady, Boys and Girls in America
7) Bob Dylan, Modern Times
8) Belle & Sebastian, Life's Pursuit
9) Cat Power, The Greatest
10) Sonic Youth, Rather Ripped

If reissues counted, I totally would have put the deluxe edition of Pavement's Wowee Zowee at #1. If you think there are any glaring omissions from this list, please let me know (and don't say Regina Spektor). If you want to read what a total clown thought were the best albums of 2006, please visit Kayvon's page.

GUEST BLOGGER: Brian Boyer

2007-01-16T11:47:00.000-05:00

If you frequent the bars of Santa Barbara's State Street, you are most likely familiar with this week's guest blogger. Brian Boyer is a bouncer at The Study Hall, a fine drinking establishment with mind-blowing happy hour deals and the world-famous "Study Burger." If you are in search of a jovial drinking buddy, go down to The Study Hall and seek out the company of Brian. However, if you get too rowdy within the confines of The 'Hall, you will find your teeth curbside on the corner of Haley and State (courtesy of Brian's left heel). This week, Brian discusses the most shocking acquisition of baseball's off-season: The San Francisco Giants' pernicious pilfering of Barry Zito from my beloved Oakland A's.

There’s no easy way to say this, so I’m just going to say it: I am a San Francisco Giants fan. Now I know you probably hate me already, but just let me say my piece and I’ll go back underneath my eccentrically decorated, out-of-touch-with-the-rest-of-the-country rock where upon I can cheer for a team every bit as treacherous and villainous as the Yankees (minus the charming figurehead and tendency of it’s players/coaches to die in winged aircraft, of course*) and fiendishly hope that a home run hitting machine assembled in a Bay Area Laboratory continues it’s systematic assault on baseball’s most revered records to feed the appetite of its unnatural ego. Imagine a Snidely Whiplash mustache twirl just for good measure and that’s pretty much April through September for me (October if I’m lucky). Although, given Mr. Bonds's more recent predilections, maybe he’s finally turning a corner; he’s gone from injecting horse steroids and choking teammates to the more benign ingesting greenies and blaming teammates. Baby steps. But to quote Mark McGwire, “we’re not here to talk about the past.” No, we’re here to talk about the future and Barry Zito’s place in it.

Is this Bonds’ year to pass Aaron? Only mild-mannered Bruce Banner knows for sure

When Alex, an avowed Oakland A’s and New York Mets fan, approached me several days ago about writing a blog posting about Barry Zito’s recent move from a Giants fan’s perspective, I set two goals for myself: one, to ensure Alex’s internet infamy by making sure his blog shows up on random and disturbing google searches, (with that in mind, “Pedro Martinez bukkake”) and two, not to lower myself to the level of Bonds haters by rubbing in the current status of the Bash Brothers or Dwight Gooden and the Straw. Every team has dirty laundry and skeletons in the closet. It’s just unfortunate that the Giants’ owner, Peter Magowan, and GM, Brian Sabean, insist upon trading their young talent away for other team’s skeletons and making them play the outfield. The Giants have been a strange mix of circus sideshow and retirement home ever since that black October in 2002. They’ve traded away ridiculously good young flamethrowers year in and year out for broken down old sluggers, team cancers and shitboxes (*cough AJ Pierzynski cough*), and just plain mediocre baseball players all in an attempt to build the championship team of right now. Building for the future has not been the strong point of the current SF brain trust. Spectacle, on the other hand, the Giants can do with the best of them. Seriously, I’m expecting a press conference any day now to announce they’ve exhumed Eddie Gaedel and signed him to a 4 year, $16 million deal. And, maybe, just maybe, that’s why the Barry Zito (knew I’d get around to him eventually) acquisition is so refreshing. Because for the first time since Bonds showed up at Candlestick Park in 1993, the Giants are planning for what’s down the road instead of what’s right in front of them. The team has finally signed an all-star, game changing player that can be the new face of the franchise once Bonds’ massive heed is out of the spotlight.

Don’t get me wrong, though, I suffer from no delusions about the Giants’ chances this year. I’m predicting 3rd place in the NL West, which will be a much more competitive division than years past. Their offense is built around an ancient, possibly soon to be incarcerated left fielder and Ray Durham coming off a fluke year. The rest of the lineup consists of bit players at best and “brain dead Caribbean hitters hacking at slop nightly” at worst. Their starting outfield combined is over 100 years old. Aside from Omar Vizquel, there isn’t a single impressive glove on the team. The place where the team shines though, is it’s starting pitching. They’ve got a solid mix of veteran and young arms, now anchored by Zito.

Zito brings pitching ability and celebrity girlfriends to the Giants

The big knock against Zito that I’ve heard since he went on the free agent market is that he’s not a staff ace; he’s not a flamethrower and is inconsistent. Having a CY Young on one’s resume seems to disqualify any argument against the man’s credentials. Similarly, dueling with Clemens and Santana in recent years in the postseason say a lot about his big game potential. The fact that he’s not a power pitcher means Zito can be a durable inning eater without worrying about him burning his arm out down the stretch like so many fastballers out there. Besides, a 12 to 6 curve is just as lights out as 99 mph 2 seamer. Just ask any batter who’s made Sportscenter while looking like their back is about to break after Zito lets one fly.

Barry Zito: Seal Whisperer

Did the Giants spend too much and offer too long of a contract? Fuck yes! But that has more to do with the market than what kind of player they’re getting. If Gary Matthews and Gil Meche can land monster deals, then Zito’s not going anywhere for peanuts and guitar picks. But, one of the benefits of a long term deal is that the team can take its time rebuilding once Bonds is off the books or in jail. The pitching should coalesce this year and the team can hopefully reap the benefits over the next few years. More than anything else, though, this signing is an indication to the fans that the team is willing to open its wallet and buy some all-star players again. A few more offseasons like this and normalcy can’t be too far around the corner. At least fans can again hope for something other than the 600lb gorilla in left field somehow avoiding time in the clink. 2007 is shaping up to be a bizarre year at AT&T Park (is that what it’s being called now? Jesus, I don’t even know anymore). But maybe in October, the big top will come down and in 2008, the Giants can finally just get back to playing baseball.

*Although, given the recent bizarre deaths of Chris Brown and Jose Uribe (U-Ribe!), perhaps the 1980s Giants infield is similarly cursed…if the bloated corpse of Will Clark shows up one of these days complete with eight ball hemorrhages, try to act surprised.

Thanks for the awesome essay, Brian. To anyone who lives in Santa Barbara and is reading this, please go down to The Study Hall and ask Brian how many World Championships the Giants have won. When he tells you how many, remind him that the A's may not have Barry Zito, but they do have 4 trophies.

Back to the Empire State

2007-01-10T08:50:00.000-05:00

After a lengthy two week vacation in California, I am back in New York. But of course, I am already missing the Golden State. Here is a list of things I am currently missing about California now that I am back east:

Squeeging my windshield at the gas station.

Having a barbeque that is not on a fire escape.

The San Francisco 49ers.

Delicious produce, especially Giant Fuji Apples.

Listening to "She's Got The Jack" by AC/DC while driving over Highway 17.

The scantily clad woman in the glass box at 180.

Sourdough bread.

Soundly defeating the Zampella family at Scattergories.

The fried zucchini at Sunnyside in Lake Tahoe.

Free car washes from Kayvon.

It was a nice trip, but I am glad to be back in Gotham City. Also, I would like to thank the people who offered suggestions for the new web site, especially Wolvereenan. I am a huge fan of www.quidditchmaster,org and www.gabbinaboutalex.com -- however, I think I might go with www.broheim.org. Wolvereenan, what do you think?

Master of My Domain

2006-12-27T01:57:00.000-05:00

I was at the doctor's office this week, catching up on some periodical reading, when I came across an interesting article in U.S. News and World Report (the poor man's Newsweek). The article outlined 50 ways to make yourself a better person in 2007. One of those ways is to blog. (Awesome! I am a step of you, U.S.N. & W.R.) Another way to improve your life is to ditch your lame blogspot address and acquire your own domain name. This made me feel a bit behind the times, as I am still using a clunky blogspot URL. So I am posing this question to you, fair and intrepid readers of this blog, what should my new URL address be? Here are some options:

www.uptownalex.com
www.alexwrites.org (alexwrites.com is taken)
www.alexequalsawesome.com
www.allaboutalex.com
www.alexhateswar.com

And the list goes on. I am going to make my final decision sometime in early January, then move my blog over to the new site. If you have any names you would like to suggest for the new website, please leave them in the comments section.

Seattle Newscaster Gets "ZEE'ed"

2006-12-18T15:51:00.000-05:00

My good friend, Big Z, has a Space Needle-sized problem with Seattle newscaster Kathi Goertzen (from KOMO-TV 's nightly news). So how does he deal with his dislike of one of Seattle's favorite on-air personalities? He courageously sends her hate e-mails under a pseudonym ("Sam McDonald"). Here's a sample:

From: Sam McDonald
Sent: Thursday, December 07, 2006 4:39 PM
To: *KOMO-TV News Tips
Subject: Goertzen is the worst anchor EVER!

Kathy Goertzen is the worst news anchor ever.

Take her off the air.

Breathes funny.

And always sounds like she is going to CRY!! It's terrible and unbearable and I have stopped watching komo4 news with her AND have told all my friends and family do to the same (because we all agree) AND to pass it along.

Get rid of her. She sucks.

She's an illiterate mess, TAKE HER OFF THE AIR!

THANKS!

-Sam

And how does the unflappable Kathi Goertzen respond? She kills him with kindness! (Or an auto-reply. You decide.)

--- "Goertzen, Kathi" wrote:

Subject: RE: Goertzen is the worst anchor EVER!
Date: Thu, 7 Dec 2006 17:06:23 -0800
From: "Goertzen, Kathi"
To: "Sam McDonald"

Sam,

Thanks so much for the kind words.

I'll share them with my friends and family.

Kathi

I don't know about you, but in my book the score is:
Big Z: 0
Kathi Goertzen: 1

Words Said In My Writing Workshop About Me And An Essay I Wrote

2006-12-05T08:27:00.000-05:00

"Lazy"

"Cowardly"

"Irritating"

"Unfunny"

"He is bobbing through life without care or purpose."

"Charming!"

Best Subway Platform Graffiti Award

2006-12-03T15:08:00.000-05:00

When I first moved to New York, I visited a friend who lived in Greenpoint off the Nassau Avenue G Train stop in Brooklyn. As I was waiting for the train up to Queens (to transfer to the Manhattan bound E), I noticed that every advertisement on the platform was covered with writing: thought bubbles, dialogue captions, etc. Right in front of me, there was a poster for Ringling Brothers & Barnum & Bailey Circus. The poster was advertising an upcoming show at Madison Square Garden and had a picture of an elephant standing on its hind legs. Some genius took a Sharpie and drew a dialogue bubble and had the elephant screaming, "I WILL TRAMPLE MY JAILORS!!!" It was brilliant -- bar none the best subway platform graffiti I have seen in New York City.

Here's the thing: the graffiti at the Nassau Avenue station (located underneath the fabulous Pizza Prince) is consistently the wittiest in all of the city. The people on the Queens bound platform who scribble all over the ads while waiting for the G train set the gold standard for all five boroughs. For this reason, I am bestowing the station with my "Best Subway Platform Graffiti Award." Most subway stations have a Queer Eye for the Straight Guy ad, and some jerk creatively writes "FAGS" on it. Lowbrow humor like that has no place at the Nassau station. Last night, as I was waiting for the train, I purused the gallery of graffiti searching for my favorite piece. I found the winner as I walked past a movie poster for "Tenacious D in The Pick of Destiny." In block letters at the top of the poster, someone wrote: "I HAVE MY DOUBTS ABOUT THIS MOVIE." Bravo, Nassau Avenue station, bravo. So if you think of something creative to tag at a subway station, try saving it until you get to Nassau Avenue. See if your work can compete with the talented graffiti artisans of Greenpoint.

GOING...going BACK...back to TOGA...toga

2006-11-21T11:19:00.000-05:00

Gotta hop on a big jet airliner and head back to the Bay Area in a couple of hours. In honor of my trip, I would like to post my five favorite NorCal rap videos. Enjoy:
#1 "The Oakland Stroke" by Tony! Toni! Tone!

#2 "I Got 5 On It (Bay Area Remix)" by The Luniz

#3 "Playaz Club" by Rappin' 4-Tay

#4 "Deception" by Blackalicious

#5 "Don't Hate The Playa" by Hieroglyphics

R+B = Ruth Brown

2006-11-20T13:43:00.000-05:00

The big jam session up in rock 'n' roll heaven is truly slamming today as the mortal rock community mourns the death of R&B pioneer, Ruth Brown. Nicknamed "Miss Rhythm," Brown had a string of hits in the early fifties, including one of my all-time favorite songs, "Mama, He Treats Your Daughter Mean." She was so successful that many music historians call her label, Atlantic Records, "The House That Ruth Built." If you're not familiar with Brown's work, check out Rhino Records' 5 song EP titled, "Rhino Records Hi-Five: Ruth Brown" on the iTunes Music Store. (it's only $3.96!) And definitely give a listen to Brown's live version of "Mama, He Treats Your Daughter Mean" on the R&B compilation, Night Train to Nashville. It's a total rave-up. Rest in peace Ruth Brown, and I hope that nobody's treating you or your daughters mean anymore....for your mama's sake.

GUEST BLOGGER: Samantha Fillian

2006-11-18T07:51:00.000-05:00

This weekend’s guest blogger is the stupendous Samantha Fillian. Sam grew up a seashell's throw away from the Jersey shore, and she currently resides in the bitchin’ borough of Brooklyn. She is a part time writer, a part time nanny, and a full time ass kicker. In this essay, Sam shares her fascinating fascination with parasitic twins. This might be a good time to point out that the views expressed in this essay are solely those of the author and do not reflect the views of this blog. Take it away, Sam!

Hey Man, Get off My Stomach!

I used to press my nose against my best friend Megan’s elbow while she was driving. Barely able to control my laughter, I would say, “What if we were Siamese twins connected like this FOR LIFE?” Though she tried to wiggle and flap me off her elbow, my nose did not budge. Fed up with me, she would threaten to smash her white Neon into a tree in order to separate us. At the time, I found this act hysterical and performed it often.

However, this was before I discovered my passion for parasitic twins -- conjoined twins much cooler second cousins. Parasitic twins seem to be the result of some crazy biological dish that calls for you to double the recipe; but then your autistic friend comes in the kitchen and fucks up the ingredients. For example, Myrtle Corbin, a big hit on the freak show circuit in the 1920’s, had four legs and two vaginas. She mothered seven children, five down the right side and two down the left. She had more children on the right side because, that was vagina she preferred to have intercourse with. Nice to have the choice!

Frank Lentini was also a lucky bastard with two sets of genitals. What was unlucky for Frank was the third leg that protruded from his right butt cheek. His third leg proved useful only in the entertainment business. While working as a sideshow freak, Frank would dutifully walk on stage, reveal his third leg, kick a rubber ball, and walk back off the stage without saying a word. His one-trick act amazed audiences.

My favorite parasitic twin is Lallo. A very charming and handsome man from India, Lallo loved to read, spoke many languages, and had three quarters of his twin attached to his torso. His twin was placed in such away that its hands were always hanging around Lallo’s neck. Its headless neck hovered somewhere near his ribcage, and his feet jutted out near his hips. Lallo dedicated his life educating the public on the differences we all share. He did, however, have to spend a fortune having his shirts tailored.

Most excellent essay...thanks Sam!

In Which the Critic Critiques the Critic's Criticism of the Critic

2006-11-17T07:45:00.000-05:00

It appears that many people were outraged by Village Voice music critic Chris Ott's personal attack on Colin Meloy of The Decemberists in this week's Voice. That's not a surprise. Ott's "review" of the band's CMJ performance at Hammerstein Ballroom doesn't even mention the music that was played at that show. As far as valid criticism goes, it's a joke. But it was surprising to learn that the piece ruffled the feathers of Meloy and his girlfriend, artist Carson Ellis. If you scroll down to the bottom of the comments left below the article, you will be treated to an entertaining ping-pong match of insults between Ellis and Ott.

Since Ellis fired off the first retaliatory attack, the war over Ott's review has spilled out all over the Internet. From Stereogum to Brooklyn Vegan, battlefields have sprouted up all over the Web and have inspired some pretty hilarious message board repartee. Here are some highlight snipes from the comment sections:

“he hates the decemberists just for the crime of being white. there is nothing wrong with meloy being proud of his white Irish heritage. i bet if he was black and talking about the jungle guys or whatever it would all be fine.”

“most ‘indie’ music sucks. regurgitating the same fey, ironic, no-talent, generic crap under the guise of being 'smart music for smart people' when in reality it's boring middle of the road, forgettable poo.”

“Oh, their old ‘intimate’ shows SUCKED. I mean, really, really sucked. I don't think anyone besides maybe Dave Eggers or Helen Keller would argue otherwise.”

“Can we all just agree that Hemingway would beat the living sh*t out of Colin Meloy? That's one thing to like about the guy...”

The biggest shock to me was that Ellis and Meloy cared to respond to Ott’s review. It was clearly a below-the-belt punch, but Meloy and Ellis have to realize that Ott is small potatoes. The Decemberists recently made the leap from Kill Rock Stars to Capitol Records; and any band that aspires to play on a bigger stage will inevitably face a backlash. In The Beatles Anthology documentary, there is footage of teenage girls sobbing outside of the Cavern Club in Liverpool. The girls were furious that The Beatles left to play America, and they vowed never to buy Beatle records again. That was 1964. Something tells me The Beatles didn’t give a shit that those girls were crying, and something tells me that today (if they’re still alive) those girls probably own everything The Beatles ever released. Meloy should be more concerned with his band, and less concerned with what some failed musician/music critic has to say. Goddamn it, you can always learn something from The Beatles.

Clearly, Ott has some hidden agenda for writing such an incendiary attack piece. Both Meloy and Ott have written books for the 33 1/3 series; maybe Meloy’s sales have outpaced Ott’s and there’s a little jealousy about that? Maybe Ott’s attack on The Decemberists’ Wes Anderson aesthetic reveals a pang of envy in Meloy’s talented girlfriend (Ellis) who does all of the band’s artwork? Ott has his own band, The Grace Period – maybe he is just bitter over the fact that Meloy plays to thousands of fans each night while he has to write 600 word pop music reviews for the Village Voice? Who knows?

Whoever you choose to side with in the Great Decemberists vs. The Village Voice Debate, pretty much everyone can agree that we all hate Chuck Klosterman. But oddly enough, Chuck made some smart and relevant comments about the nature of pop criticism in this week’s Onion A.V. Club section:

The people who review my books, generally, are kind of youngish culture writers who aspire to write books, or write opinion pieces about what they think of Neil Young, or why they quit watching ER or whatever. And because of that, I think there's a lot of people who write about my books with the premise of, "Why this guy? Why not me?" The thing is, if I write about Van Halen, no one really thinks I'm writing this because, in truth, I would rather be a successful guitar player. And if I wrote about Marie Antoinette, no one thinks, "Well actually, he wishes he were Sofia Coppola." But when someone writes a book review, they obviously already self-identify as a writer. I mean, they are. They're writers, they're critics, and they're writing about a book about a writer who's a critic. So I think it's really hard for people to distance themselves from what they're criticizing.

Discussion about self-referential criticism usually makes my head spin, and it's doing that right now. But I guess I threw that Klosterman quote in their because it makes some sense out of all of this. As a musician, Ott clearly had a hard time distancing himself from his subject, The Decemberists. I'm sure some of the personal attacks he made on Meloy are spot-on, but you can't write a review and not bring up the music. As a Decemberists fan, I am admittedly biased. But read the Village Voice piece, go see The Decemberists live, and decide for yourself.

Disadvantages to Having Short Hair Instead of Long Hair

2006-11-16T11:22:00.000-05:00

Headbanging to "Tornado of Souls" by Megadeth is just not as much fun anymore.

My membership to the National Hacky Sack Association was revoked.

People are telling me I look like Ray Romano again.

I cannot say the terms “sticky-icky” or “mega-dank” without sounding like a total idiot.

Neck zits are no longer concealed.

No more discount on tickets to see "Hair: The American Tribal Love/Rock-Musical."

No Submissions from Skywalker Ranch, Please

2006-11-13T11:19:00.000-05:00

The Decemberists are one of the most original bands playing music today, and now they have asked their fans to join in on the creativity. The band just shot a video for "O Valencia" on a green screen, and mtvU has announced a contest to complete the video by creating a digital backdrop. I don't know, but I kind of like the video as is. In fact, I dare you to watch this clip and not smile:

Only the Decemberists could write a song about a forbidden girlfriend getting shot by her brother, gushing blood, dying in her boyfriend's arms -- and somehow make it upbeat and danceable. If I knew how to create a digital backdrop, I'd set this video in Versailles (it has a majestic feel, you know?) or Phil Hughes Bar .

GUEST BLOGGER: Brenna Boyce

2006-11-12T22:42:00.000-05:00

Let's face it: the daily blog can be quite a slog. For this reason, every weekend I will hand over the reins to a "guest blogger" who will get to post their two cents. This is a tradition born out of true laziness. This weekend's guest blogger is Ms. Brenna Boyce . Brenna is a fellow uptowner and former editor of Artsweek in Santa Barbara. Maybe you have read some of her work in that periodical, such as her interview with Morgan Spurlock. She and her man, who calls himself Dan, recently had a night out on the town and took in a star-studded Bob Dylan tribute concert (sans Zimmy) at Lincoln Center. Here is Bren's scintillating review of said show:

Having never been to the Upper West Side’s Lincoln Center before, I had visions of men in tuxes with top hats and canes accompanied by women in floor length gowns. However, upon pulling up to the venue in a pedicab (don’t ask) I was greeted with men in tie-dye pajamas. I realized then that this Bob Dylan Tribute show might not be exactly as I had envisioned.

I consider myself a pretty big fan of Dylan -- I even like the new stuff. But I felt like this tribute was a pissing contest of sorts; he who can find the most obscure song is the "truest" fan. While some artists chose the more traditional route, playing classics like “The Times They Are A-Changin’” and “Like a Rolling Stone,” others went for deeper tracks, much to the dismay of many audience members.

The show featured several of Dylan's old cronies, including Al Kooper , the organ player on "Like A Rolling Stone." Kooper brought out a wealth of studio musicians and played his heart out on “It Takes a lot to Laugh, It Takes a Train to Cry.” That track was cut 11 blocks from Lincoln Center and some 30 years later rocks harder than anything on the radio today.

In a surprising move, comedienne Sandra Bernhard , known for her raspy voice and cornucopia of cunt jokes, took the stage to perform “Like a Rolling Stone.” Her original take on the classic was preceded by a funny story of a young Bernhard destroying her brother’s collection of Dylan records because she thought it made him smoke pot.

I finally understood the tie-dye pajamas when Phil Lesh, original bassist for the Grateful Dead took the stage. The applause and cheering from the audience was deafening while his rendition of “Thunder on the Mountain” was plain awful. Equipment troubles, lack of preparation and just plain cockiness led to a jumbled, loud mess—that was given a standing ovation nonetheless.

One of the highlights of the night was The Roots who performed “Masters of War” with guitar, drums, and tuba. The amount of energy and emotion conveyed along with creativity and talent was unsurpassable. Complete with military drum beats and Jimi Hendrix-style guitar playing, their rendition got a whole lot of white geezers bobbing their heads.

In perhaps the ballsiest performance of the night, Ryan Adams took to the stage with not one, but 2 songs—a 20-minute conglomeration of “Isis” and Victoria’s Secret’s own “Lovesick." I watched as a few older people in the front got up and left mid-performance, but I saw that as a sign of success. If the elderly aren’t walking out on your set, you’re probably doing something wrong. Adams, his usual cocky self, blazoned the stage with the aura of a young Dylan—smug, risky, talented and intelligent. His hard-rockin’ riffs, noisy feedback, messy dress, and admirable desire to break the rules stood out against the aging musicians who preceded him and his band.

Thanks for the review, Brenna!

The Mystery of the Gerrymandering Carpetbagger

2006-11-10T12:15:00.000-05:00

The dust has finally settled after Tuesday's elections, and the Dems have a majority in both houses of Congress for the first time since 1994. It was pretty satisfying to open today's NY Times and see a photograph of Nancy Pelosi sitting in the Oval Office with Bush and Cheney, who look like they'd rather be getting teeth pulled than have their picture taken with a San Franciscan.

While I'm on the topic of politics, I would like to address the overwhelming push to get people into the voting booths. When I first voted, at the tender young age of 18, I'd read the occasional friendly reminder in the local paper to vote on the first Tuesday in November. After 9/11, politics became more important than they ever had in our lifetime, and people started to severely guilt trip each other if you didn't vote. Since the 2004 presidential election, the pressure to vote has reached a fever pitch -- it has come down to getting death threats from Paris Hilton.

Well, Paris's intimidation tactics were successful, because I made it out to vote on Tuesday. My polling place is just around the corner at P.S. 158 on York Avenue. I walked in at around 6 pm, and surprise of all surprises, there was no line. The funny thing is that after all this recent talk about electronic voting machines, my polling place still uses the old-fashioned voting machine with the little switches and the giant red lever. It looked like a leftover from the days of Boss Tweed and Tammany Hall. The voting machine actually looked exactly like this drawing, which is dated 1936:

Embarrassingly, it took me about five minutes to figure out how to use the damn thing. After reading the instructions over and over, I finally got the gist of it and started to get my vote on. When I got down to State Comptroller on my ballot, a woman pulled the curtain back on my booth, thinking that it was empty. When she saw that I was in there, she let out a piercing shriek, like she caught me masturbating or something. She quickly flung the curtain shut and let me finish voting in private.

Hooray for democracy!

Fun Things To Do on the Walk From My Apartment to the Subway When It Is Raining

2006-11-09T08:25:00.000-05:00

Step inside Le Pain Quotidien; have a hot chocolate by the fireplace.

Challenge random strangers to umbrella jousting matches.

Lay down a Slip 'n' Slide from 3rd Avenue to Lexington. Ride it naked.

Create a fun iPod playlist with songs like "Rain" by the Beatles, "No Rain" by Blind Melon, and "Raining Blood" by Slayer.

Privately mourn the divorce of Britney and K-Fed.

Collect rain water in buckets; form a hypothesis; test the water's acidity; study the results; draw conclusions; write an award-winning essay on the adverse effects of acid rain in urban environments.

Build an ark; announce, "All ye heathens shall perish in the flood!"

Walk halfway to train, turn around, go home, watch "Guiding Light" marathon all day.

Load Up On Grunge, Bring Your Friends

2006-11-07T09:43:00.000-05:00

Today's date will go down as one of the greatest days in grunge history, alongside July 8, 1988 (the day Mudhoney debuted "Touch Me, I'm Sick"), January 25, 1992 (the date Nevermind surpassed Michael Jackson's Dangerous at #1 on the Billboard charts), and June 4, 2004 (the day Creed broke up).

Why is November 7, 2006 so grunge-tastic, you ask? Only because of three monumental, flannel shirted, drop-D tuned releases that are hitting record store shelves today! The most important of the three is, of course, the DVD release of Live! Tonight! Sold Out! by Nirvana. This film was one of the last projects created by Kurt Cobain before his suicide in 1994, and it chronicles the year leading up to Nevermind's release, and its subsequent explosion on the charts. Most importantly, Live! Tonight! Sold Out! shows something that has been overshadowed since Cobain's death -- Nirvana was one of the funniest bands ever. They were also quite a rude awakening to the bloated mainstream music of 1991. For further evidence, check out their appearance on BBC's Tonight with Jonathan Ross show, which is one of the highlights of the DVD:

The second, and almost equally important of today's releases, is Matador Record's deluxe edition of Pavement's brilliant third album, Wowee Zowee.

You may not label Pavement a "grunge" band per se, but just take a listen to either "Flux=Rad" or "Serpentine Pad" off Wowee Zowee, and you will agree that either of these tracks would have felt right at home on a Mudhoney or Tad LP. At the time of its release in 1995, Wowee Zowee was pretty much trashed by critics and deemed unlistenable slop. Over time, it has become a cult classic and a fan favorite -- Rolling Stone even named it the 12th coolest album of all time (and they originally panned it)! The lesson here is to never trust Rolling Stone, and that Pavement ist Rad. I could wax poetic for hours about why Wowee Zowee is my favorite Pavement album, but I'll just link you to Pitchfork's stellar review of the "Sordid Sentinels" edition instead. And if that isn't enough to convince you, take a listen to this mp3 of "Rattled by the Rush" (shredding guitar solo, right?) or "Heckler Spray/In the Mouth of a Desert", which is a live bonus track.

Finally, the Foo Fighters' live acoustic album, Skin and Bones also sees its release today. While this isn't as earth shattering as the aforementioned releases, Skin and Bones is important to the Grunge Nation for a couple of reasons. This album includes a version of "Marigold," Dave Grohl's lone songwriting contribution to the Nirvana canon (and the B-side to "Heart Shaped Box"). Skin and Bones also features the return of Pat Smear to the band, as well as the addition of Petra Haden, a major league crush of mine. Dave Grohl has been known wade into the sea of sappy with his music, and this album may fall into that category; however it is worth mentioning that the Foo Fighters' 9-piece acoustic band stole the show at these year's Bridge School Benefit.

In short, I've had this date circled on my calendar for quite some time. This evening, I am planning on donning my best flannel shirt and ripped jeans, then taking the M72 bus across town to Tower Records. After making my purchases, there will be a viewing and listening party at my apartment. So load up on beer, and bring your friends.

Possible Last Words of Saddam Hussein

2006-11-06T13:20:00.000-05:00

“I executed hundreds of thousands of Iraqi Kurds, and in return, you are executing me. Isn’t it ironic…don’t you think?”

“Let’s hug it out, bitches!”

“Ian Curtis died by hanging. I will die by hanging. Ian Curtis was the lead singer of the seminal post-punk band Joy Division. I was a genocidal tyrant. I guess the comparisons end with death by hanging…”

“Whatever you do, don’t post this on YouTube.”

“Twenty bucks says tomorrow’s Post headline is: SAD-DOOMED HUS-HANGED.”

“So long as you can assure me that Jim and Pam will get back together on The Office, I can die in peace.”

“If you are really going to hang me, please let me wear a cowboy hat and some spurs.”

“Hey America, you’ve been Punk’d!”

The Lance Dance

2006-11-05T20:02:00.000-05:00

This morning I watched the NYC marathon in front of the 79th Street Cafe on First Avenue. For the first half hour, Jake and I commented on almost every runner that passed. For example, if a man with green sneakers ran by, one of us would say something like, "Shamrock shoes!" You know, real comedy gold.

The main attraction of this year's race was not the pack of speedy Kenyans at the front of the race; it was Lance Armstrong's debut at the NYC marathon. After waiting for at least 45 minutes for Armstrong to run by us, Jake turned to me and said, "Man, I wanna see the Lance Dance!"

Yes, this is one of the stupidest sentences ever uttered by a man. An old lady standing next to us looked at me and Jake with an incredulous look on her face and said, "You want to see the Lance Dance?" Without hesitation, Jake pointed at me sheepishly and mumbled, "He said it." Ten minutes later, Armstrong cruised by us surrounded by a small entourage with a camera crew in his face. After he passed us, the old lady turned to Jake and I and cackled, "There goes your Lance Dance!"

Reasons I'm Not Running in Today's NYC Marathon

2006-11-05T09:33:00.000-05:00

A leprechaun stole my running shoes.

Race officials told me I could not compete on my Segway .

My blazing speed would embarrass Lance Armstrong.

I thought it was next Sunday.

My exact age: 26.2 years old. The exact length of a marathon: 26.2 miles long. And I hate coincidences.

I’m allergic to Kenyans.

Too busy making up list of excuses.

Bore-at?

2006-11-05T08:35:00.000-05:00

Before going to see the 12:15 am showing of Borat last night, Brenna, Danny and I stopped off at the 86th Street Pizzeria Uno for "Snack Hours." This is a period of time around 10 pm when their happy hour specials are accompanied by mind-blowing deals on appetizers. I had a mini-pepperoni pizza for $3, and Brenna was chugging some bargain priced Long Island Iced Teas. Sort of ironic, but still highly recommended.

Then came Borat. The theater was packed out for the post-midnight show, and I was already a little bit tuckered out thanks to Uno's delicious pizza and a couple of tasty Budweisers. I was also geared up for some major cinematic controversy; both Anthony Lane and David Edelstein wrote articles condemning Sacha Baron Cohen's brand of humor this week (in the New Yorker and New York, respectively). Both Lane and Edelstein allude that Baron Cohen is a societal danger, while Peter Travers of Rolling Stone wrote a glowing review calling for an Oscar nomination for Borat. So going into this movie, I was interested which side of the fence I would land on.
It turns out that Borat is actually lukewarm, both in comedy and controversy. Both ends of the critical spectrum are taking it a little bit far with this one. Does the anti-Semitism go a little bit too far in Borat? Definitely; just because Baron Cohen was raised as an Orthodox Jew, and the lame ending where Kazakhs learn that is ok to torture Christians too, doesn't make the overload of Jew-bashing acceptable. But you can't compare Borat to Shoah, a 9 hour documentary about Holocaust deniers, as Edelstein does in his New York review. Borat strives for satire, but when the targets are Muslim countries who despise Jews, and Americans who hate Jews, the satire stops being funny and starts getting a little scary. It’s one thing to parody and satirize the stupidity of anti-Semites, and it’s another thing to portray anti-Semitism as funny. Borat walks a fine line.

As for Travers’s exaltation and demand that Borat be nominated for an Oscar, that is a bit ridiculous. The one thing Travers has right is that Borat is a pretty funny movie. The truly hilarious moments come sporadically: Borat singing the Kazakhs' national anthem at a Virginia rodeo, and his exorcism at a Baptist revival where he starts speaking in tongues are both pretty damn funny. But how can Travers declare Borat as the funniest movie of the year when this movie is just 12 days away?

Beef, Broccoli, and The Office

2006-11-03T19:15:00.000-05:00

Lesley came over after work to watch a new episode of The Office last night. I called up Charlie Mom to order some Chinese take-out so we could grub while watching the show. I am still convinced that Charlie Mom is an extremely racist name for a Chinese restaurant, but I haven't really convinced anyone else of this yet. Anyway, after I placed our order (beef and broccoli for me, lemon chicken for Les Boss) the Charlie Mom asked what I would like to drink. Of course, I had to be an asshole while making my request. "I will have one Seeeeeee-hair-aaaahhh Misssssst and one Die-ette Coke-ah," I said (not in a Chinese voice, just a goofy one, btw). There was a pause, then Charlie Mom said, "So...two Diet Cokes?"
"Sure," I said.

The Office was an ok episode last night. Up until about a month ago, I was vehemently against watching the American version of The Office because I feel a strong loyalty to the original BBC version. Well, I happened to catch an episode or two over at Jake's apartment, and I was immediately hooked. The same dynamics exist in both series, but they've each got unique styles. Steve Carell's Michael Scott is not as well-rounded of a character as Ricky Gervais's David Brent, but he is just as, if not more, successful at making the viewer squirm. And I hate to admit it, but Pam and Jim (reincarnations of the beloved Tim and Dawn) are far more adorable than their British counterparts.
vs.
So now I've made it a practice to catch every episode of The Office. If you're not doing anything next Thursday, come on over. We'll get Chinese take-out and slam some Diet Cokes.

Here We Are Now, Entertain Us

2006-11-02T07:58:00.000-05:00

Yes, my friends, the release of Live! Tonight! Sold Out! is a mere 5 days away! And to pump up Nirvana fans around the world for the highly anticipated release of this DVD, Geffen Records has created a trailer!

Maybe the new DVD will help Kurt Cobain remain #1 on the list of top earning dead celebrities. Keep up the great sales, Kurt!

Popular Lower East Side Halloween Costumes

2006-11-01T09:38:00.000-05:00

SpongeBob Girl Jeans

Slutty Frida Kahlo

L-Train Service After Midnight

Zombie Devendra Banhart

The Millionaire Trustfunder Who Leaves Shitty Tips

The Ghost of Neck Face

A Bottle of Bumble & Bumble Product

Hello Shitty

Franken-Iha

A Campy Show

2006-10-31T18:26:00.001-05:00

After class last night, I met DK down at The Living Room on Ludlow Street to hear a dude named Jim Campilongo play with his "Electric Trio." Campilongo's set was terrific, and I totally forgot that the Living Room is such a cool place to see a show. Campilongo is probably most famous for being the lead guitarist of the Little Willies, the alt-country collective fronted by Norah Jones. He also rocked in San Francisco back in the seventies, and his Monday night residency at the Living Room has been going on for two years and counting.

The trio played two sets with an intermission -- the second set rocked a little bit harder than the first. The mood was definitely chill, and in the middle of the second set, DK leaned over to me and said, "This is what I imagined I would be doing in New York." I knew exactly wha he meant. Having a beer in the back of a dingy club while a dude dressed like Elliot Ness wails on the guitar is an experience exclusive to Downtown New York. I guess Chicago and San Francisco could argue with me on that one, but New York truly succeeds at making grime beautiful.

Anyway, the crowd unfortunately dispersed after the intermission and missed out on a blazing second act. But I guess that will happen when you take a 20 minute intermission. Campilongo played a few cuts of his new CD Heaven Is Creepy, and entertained the audience with some amusing stage banter after the break. He let the audience know that he plays The Living Room every Monday night, "Except for in a couple of weeks, because I'm going to be in Finland. We're gonna play some shows out there...I have these friends that I stay with...I'm already eating a lot of chocolate. Man, you got to eat chocolate before you go to Finland. I'm on a chocolate diet...the chocolate in Finland is so delicious, man." When he talks, it's like he is still in San Francisco in 1974. It made me feel at home. And really cool.

Top 5 Things Overheard at Phil Hughes

2006-10-30T12:49:00.000-05:00

5. "You want a Cadillac Margarita? Fuck you. Try again. I won't even make you a BMW margarita."

4. "Turn the jukebox off. Dragonheart is on."

3. "If somebody doesn't take Ed home in 10 minutes, he is going to die."

2. "The bathroom has been out of soap for 6 days."

1. "My name is Phil Hughes. Now get the hell out of my bar!"

Bart Simpson vs. the White Stripes

2006-10-15T12:20:00.000-04:00

I guess this is kind of old, but I just saw it, and it is the bee's knees.

Soul'ed Out

2006-10-12T12:34:00.000-04:00

As announced on Pitchfork today, the DVD for Live! Tonight! Sold Out! is being released on November 7th!

Big Z and I are definitely having a slumber party that night.