Looks like we are back in business, folks. Finally!!
And when I say we, I mean it all figuratively like. As in, we, the musical babies of the age of Aquarius. It's just a test run for now, I guess. But boy, those rainbow colored horizontal blocks sure do make me happy.
Oh hi, by the way... I forgot to go to bed last night.
Belgian artist Wim Delvoye is kinda my favorite thing right now. Let's not discuss how I tapped into his work-- just enjoy!
He also 'saves' pigs from Chinese slaughter houses... to tattoo them. Only to eventually be killed-- then skinned or stuffed to sit pretty in a gallery.
But I guess if I was living on borrowed time, I'd like to be a 'growing painting' too, right?
I am currently fighting back the urge to jump up and down in a frenzied dance panic on my bed.
Why?, you ask.... 2 words, names rather. Matt. Kim. (There's a little & symbol in there somewhere too, but the whole 2 words thing sounds so much more dramatic). Sometimes Brooklyn feels like happiness, and these kids bring it!
(Best shot I got, as I was busy dancing my face off)
The powers that be left a ticket at the door for their Record Release Party at the Music Hall of Williamsburg last night, and I just can't get enough. I'm literally sitting here listening to their new album Grand-- which I'm gonna go ahead and guess is named after their street of residence in good old "East Williamsburg".
I was super excited to find out that Spank Rock was supposed to be a surprise guest, but here's a big surprise-- I missed them bc I was glued to the bar downstairs. Ha! When I finally made my way to the bouncy kick of drum upstairs, I pushed myself thru the jumping crowd to the front of the stage, where I eventually got kicked in the face. Totally expected, as I avoided this scenario at all previous Matt & Kim shows (sounds like McCarren Park, Halloween, etc.), I mean at this point I wouldn't have been surprised if Matt himself jumped into the crowd to specifically kick me in the face. Although, now that I think of it, it might've been him...
I've decided I'm the definition of a hot mess, and these two lovebirds are the epitome of Brooklyn. I mean, c'mon, take a looksy...
If you're living in an industrial neighborhood in Bushwick while there's snow on the ground (like myself), you'll know exactly what he means by 'these shoes are poor man's ice skates', and that's the TRUTH, kid.
Today on my lunch break, a sense of true bliss came over me when I was greeted at the automatic bifold doors of Dagastino's by a man giving away Choctál ice cream. Never hearing of this brand, i took the cup (complete with wooden spoon) somewhat hesitantly. But by the time the cashier lifted my cocoa filled treat off the conveyor belt (without scanning it) and placed it into my bag-- I was in complete heaven. And the moment this frozen pudding-like yumminess hit my taste buds, I searched the interweb for where I could find more. Sadly, to find out-- not in my neighborhood. If you don't believe the amazingness that is this stuff... just surrender to the music on their website.
And check it-- our friends on the other side of the river are snacking too!
I'm not happy, and not only because my feet are wet.
I'm mostly sad that I'm currently missing the Olsen book signing in Union Square. I mean, if I motivated myself away from my desk, I could venture into the cold wet outdoors. But just the thought makes me go 'Burrrrr". Considering all I wore today is a silk shirt & a denim jacket (in blatant denial that winter is here), I think I'll just sit here and warm my feet on the space heater-- and watch youtube videos of the alien twins explaining that this wasn't an ego project
Right? Right.
Ummm, right.
How I wish these two could adorn my coffee table.... But not in the weird sorority sister way Ashley composes herself above. Totally looks like she's at a job interview at Starbucks. Where are the sloppy Beatrice Inn girls we all love!?
Sad to miss ALL three Noah & the Whale shows this week, I was fortunate enough to snag a ticket to see Laura Marling's haunting solo performance, along with good friends Johnny Flynn and Mumford & Sons (half of who make up Miss Marling's band):
I've got to say I was pleasantly surprised by openers Mumford. Running with this crowd, I assumed they were talented but I was blown away by their 'if Beirut did folk music' approach, with more annunciation of course-- being British and all. The bar had been lifted, and we all anxiously awaited a record pole vault from Flynn & Marling.
The marvelous Johnny Flynn did just that, traversing over the high standard beam with grace. Johnny's master of all musical trades vitality filled the room to an overflowing brim-- helped by some burning desire from the ladies, I'm sure, Red Coat or not. Continuing on, Johnny's talent shined through an ironic Jeffery Lewis cover. 'Do you know of him?', he asked the crowd, to which his Bassist replied, 'No one knows of him...'
Laura Marling floated onto the stage like a delicate bird, dimming down the energy to a soft & steady buzz. Some speculated that maybe she should have performed before Flynn, but as I had to be in the office the next morning, I didn't mind the sullen lullabies. Laura, filled with sweet fervor, belted out lyrics such as 'the grey in this city is too much to bear' with a sort of apocalyptic romance. Closing my eyes, I was reminded of a young Sinead O'Conner. Only 18 years of life below her belt, one could be convinced that Marling has lived, been loved, and suffered loss decades upon decades over.
