Tonight,
Girl Talk at
Johnny Brenda's is sold out like whoa. But word on the street is that Mr. Mashup likes his sets short - perhaps too short? Remember, hell hath no fury like Philly hipsters scorned. Mashup cheap Brenda's booze and a packed house in the already lawless Nolibs, and you've got yourself this weekend's most likely riot.
But why mess with all that nonsense when you've got two perfecly good homegrown alternatives? First,
El Dorado get all "who the fuck is Yo La Tengo anyway" up in your grille. Yeah, it's at The Fire, but think of how many people are gonna end up walking over there anyway after police break up the JB's fracass.
Or avoid that whole Girard quagmire and head South, where our homies from
Brown Recluse Sings will be throwing down in epic fashion. The venue of choice, on record as
The Bread Bin, is actually just Herbie BRS's casa. House parties: not just for West Philly anymore! A mere $5 gets you in the door, and the 4-band bill also includes garage-spazz wunderkinds
Cause Co-Motion. This is just about as serious as fun gets.
Saturday night keeps on keepin' it local, as original vibraphone gangstas
Grimace Federation (pic'd) drop in on
World Cafe Live for an album release party to end all album release parties. Besides their usual jazzprogrock genius, the debut full-length,
Tasted By Chemists, features verses from indie hip-hopper
Aesop Rock and the Afrobeatyousilly stylings of
Antibalas. And for this momentous live show, GFed will be coming very correct, backed by a full horn and string ensemble, djs, visuals, and more. Zowee!
Pitchfork is practically tripping over themselves to annoint every fucking band on the planet. Five "
The encore is a delicate artform and, like the art of love, it is practiced by many but perfected by few. This past Monday I had the pleasure of catching/heckling Swedish pop rock sensation Peter Bjorn
and John. The show was 
Over the last couple months, Philabuster has been working like a dog. And not a cute puppy, either. I'm talking about a work dog. Like, a Husky who pulls some fatass yelling "mush" on a sled across the Alaksan tundra. With only so much time available to dedicate to bloggerly endeavors, something had to be set aside. And since my commitment to top-notch content during the week was paramount, updating the playlist was the task that regrettably fell by the wayside. No longer! I present you with a Bauer-esque batch of 24 songs, all in one way or another about that damned ticking clock. You've got a bit of everything: battle-tested stalwarts, yeomen indie troopers, new hotness (the Klaxons LP is totally blowing up my shit right now). And sweet jesus have you heard that Junkbox song? Just giving you the stream wouldn't be fair. So hit up that blue radioblog post-haste and rock around the clock, 'Stampers.
Things have been quiet on the Making Time front since the 
Comin' atcha first thing every Monday morning, it's The Pony Track, a super-fantastic short distance dedication to BadmintonStamps Collective founding member and internationally renown symbol for musical excellence Aaron "Pony"
Child. No fancy links, no clever write-ups, 'cause these awesome songs
don't need no splainin'. So c'mon, ride the pony!
When an e-mail from Playboy pops up in your music blog's inbox touting something called "Rock The Rabbit", it's difficult not to be just a little incredulous. Logic tells you it's an announcement about Staind and Hoobastank co-headlining some charity gala for faulty implant victims. On the other hand, there's a decent chance there are semi-nude pics of hot women on the other side of that mouse click, so logic is quickly abandoned. Apparently, Rock The Rabbit is a multi-
Besides fresh beef and fresher ladies, there's nothing that gets the 'Stamps boys all hot under the collar like new Hot Chip musics. Well, Wondertwin powers activiate! Form of: Booji Boy High, a side project named after a fictional character created by the previous generation's musical nerd champions, Devo. The name works on so many levels. Moving past the obvious physical resemblance between the character in question and soulful Hot Chip front man 
"How could hip-hop be dead if Wu-Tang is forever?" Mr. Rza, when you're right, you're right. The new Wu album, 8 Diagrams, is due out 
Here at BadmintonStamps headquarters we receive over one hundred
emails a day. We get fan letters, record label promotions, party and
concert invites, and lots of helpful suggestions from our extensive 
The Girlfriend Track is a song that SkinnySlim deems sexy for a lady
to feel. We're talking about songs where, if my girl said "Yo, turn
this up", I would be turned on.
Now that Andy Reid and that tremendous brain fart of a 4th & 15 punt have been properly exhausted as objects of the city's anger and criticism, it's time to turn our wrath upon far more serious transgressors. Or don't you believe that Lincoln Financial Field management was secretly rooting for the Saints on Saturday night? See, after Garcia and company sunk the Giants with a game-ending field goal on Jan. 7th, the mass exodous of fans re-exposed the troubling architectural instability of the stadium's exit ramps, which supposedly "
Although not often well regarded by critics, the 1980's saw many
cinematic masterpieces. I am partial to Amedeus, The Last Emperor, and
Hamburger...The Motion Picture. Not to be confused with the unrelated
and also excellent 
All those who would level barbed comments and snide remarks at the Philadelphia CityPaper (and yes, we realize that we ourselves are frequently included in that portion of the ven diagram) can at least admit: even the clog wouldn't spew forth journalism as quarter-assed as this loverly little 
Comin' atcha first thing every Monday morning, it's The Pony Track, a super-fantastic short distance dedication to BadmintonStamps Collective founding member and internationally renown symbol for musical excellence Aaron "Pony"
Child. No fancy links, no clever write-ups, 'cause these awesome songs
don't need no splainin'. So c'mon, ride the pony!
The runaway song has been rock and roll standard since the birth of
time, or at least the birth of Del Shannon. The wandering star,
rolling stone story is a perfect theme for lead singers to emote about
over a serious, over-wrought musical accompaniment. Besides the
aforementioned Del Shannon "Runaway", we have been blessed/burdened
with such gems as Jefferson Airplane's "Runaway", The Temptations'
"Runaway Child, Running Wild", and Bon Jovi's "Runaway". The
runaway video was also popular motif in the eighties, used in
such classics as Pat Benetar's epic "Love Is A Battlefield" (in which,
if my VH1 Pop Up Video sources are to be trusted, the actor who played
Pat's brother ran away from home in real life) and pretty much every
Tom Petty clip. Here at B.S. East Coast Headquarters, we know the best
runaway video is Blur's high-sterical 
That big dial tone, then static, then beeping, then static, then screeching, then "you've got mail" sound you've been hearing everywhere today is the result of our friends at Earthlink turning on 
Hey, Patti, good job. Those years hanging outside of Max's waiting for
the cool kids to recognize you finally paid off.
The Girlfriend Track is a song that SkinnySlim deems sexy for a lady
to feel. We're talking about songs where, if my girl said "Yo, turn
this up", I would be turned on.
Quick reminder: even string bands and fancies can't top the line-up tonight at 
I can often be found pondering Greek philosopher Arcemerus' famous
"rowboat" dilemma. In short, you're on a rowboat in the Aegean Sea and
both your mother and the last known copy of Plato's Republic tip over.
You can only save one; which would it be? Side note: Many people
aren't aware that this is not a hypothetical, but actually occurred
during a particularly stormy Arcemerus Family fishing trip.
Unfortunately for tenth graders, Mrs. Arcemerus' death was untimely
and cold. Since I have little love for either Arcemerus' moms or
Plato's Republic, I replace the examples with variations of my own.
Would I save my Mom or the last copy of the original Star Wars trilogy
(former), my best friend's brother or my cat (former), all of the
towels in the world or an innocent child (toughie), my Grandfather or
the last copy of the original Star Wars Trilogy (latter). And let's not
forget the Sophie's Choice of Arcemerus Rowboat Dilemmas; the booty or
the booby? Recently my friend proposed quite an enticing ARB;
Radiohead's music or The Ramones' music? While the Radioheads are my
favorite band of the last ten years or so, this fragile world cannot
afford to live without the shot of adrenaline, the purity, and the
awesomeness that is The Ramones. So rock on Joey, Johnny, Dee Dee, and
Drummer. And Radiohead, while I'm sorry to see you sink, you're into
that tormented death shit anyway.
Eaglemania development #147: NeckBeard is 
I'm an exceptional many things, one of which happens to be athletics.
However, if this past weekend taught me anything, besides the fact
that you really can't put tin foil in the microwave even if you
pretend you're Jesus and "bless" it first, it's that I can no longer
be a professional football player. And when I say football, I don't
mean soccer. Obviously I could be a professional soccer player; all
you got to do is run around a field and not use your hands. So as long
as you're not a compulsive masturbater you can be a professional
soccer player. Alright, now that you mention it, there would be some
obstacles for me to overcome, but none of them have to do with
athletic skill. But back to real man's football. Whilst a couple years
ago I could've played free safety for NFL teams, this New Year's epic game,
played at my homie's home in the deep country, proved that whilst I
possess the necessary acumen and skills to dominate my peers, I no
longer have the stamina or bone structure to be a Cincinatti Bengal or
Major City's Whatnot.* Sure, as QB I easily led my Hampton Hooligans
to a tie against our bitter rivals, the Sucky Suckersucks. But this
Monday morning quarterback's' body, which feels slightly worse than if
a freight train, followed by a buffalo stampede, followed by another
freight train filled with buffalo had hit it, is telling me that my
days as a "Could be an NFL player" are sadly gone like 2006/my homie's
microwave.
