Do you remember the big lesbian kiss episode of
The O.C.? Of course you do, right down to the
music playing softly in the background. Tonight, top floor it at
WXPN for a free show from Irish rockers
Bell X1, and relive all the rich, beautiful, confused faux-teen magic.
Hot Hot Heat's a one-hit has-been, Louis XIV an intolerable never-was, but for all the backlash,
Editors are still a perfectly good rock band. If you're packing enough drugs to get yourself through the opening acts, Y-Rock's shindig over at the
Electric Factory is a perfectly serviceable Friday night live music solution.
The
Turbo Station parties are always a welcome sight on the nightlife calendar, simply because they draw together all our favorite DJs in one convenient boozey blow-out. Friday night, Part Duex at
The Troc features
Steven Bloodbath,
Shawn Ryan, and the
Oh Murder Inc ladies, plus Power 99FM's
Diamond Kuts, a hottie who was onto this
whole "Lip Gloss" thing even before SkinnySlim. Free drinkin' from 10 to 11 makes it hot with seven t's.
Need a third Friday option?
Doug Wallen is spinning over at
Johnny Brenda's with live sets from, among others,
The Future Tips, a veteran bunch of New Porno-pop types who seem intent on maintaining their "well-kept local secret" status for as long as possible.
Speaking of well-kept secrets, how 'bout our dirtiest little almost-jam band obsession,
Grimace Federation. Philly's original vibraphone gangstas are on opening duty at
The TLA this Saturday night.
Also Saturday, as previously
dismissed discussed, free girly drinks and 80's music at The Electric Factory. It's all courtesy of Malibu, THE rum of choice for discerning 16 year-olds.
Let's preface this whole thing by making one point very clear: in a battle of the bands, nobody wins. The audience at these events is comprised of people who, unless they are there specifically to cheer for your band, are there specifically not to cheer for your band under any circumstance. The judging panels are frequently populated with people 
I find that often, when someone says, "I don't give a fuck," they
actually give quite a fuck indeed. Usually it comes after a
disagreement, where the person is using the code "I don't give a fuck"
to mean "We can do what you want, but I'm going to be very unhappy
about it." But the not giving a fuck can also be used to lay claim to
a sort of false punk rock, go-with-the-flow aesthetic. For example, I
don't think there is any single demographic of people who claim they don't
give a fuck more frequently than rappers. And I don't think there is any
single demographic of people who actually give more of a fuck than rappers. These are
people who will throw out their pristine white sneakers if a speck of
dirt gets on them. They (claim they) will kill you if you even look at
them funny. And God help you if you mess with their money. Guys,
that's called caring. Humorously, it's actually called caring about
very silly things. Fittingly, of all of the rappers, the one that
seems to give the most of a fuck is the one who wrote the anthem, "I
Just Don't Give A Fuck". From listening to every other song in his
discography, we learn that Eminem gives a very strong fuck about a wide
range of issues, including his daughter, his wife, his mother, George
Bush, Christina Aguilera, Detroit, other white rappers, Cannabis the
rapper, cannabis the drug, Britney Spears, Lauryn Hill, Fred Durst,
Carson Daily, and the Insane Clown Posse. Personally, I like a lot of
Em's music, so I don't really give a fuck if he's a hypocrite. I guess
this means the only person who really doesn't give a fuck isn't
Slim Shady, it's Slim Skinny.
Let there be no doubt:
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!
What can we blog about Greyhounds that we haven't already 
He may claim to walk around with guns the size of Lil' Bow Wow, but he's just overcompensating for balls the size of tic tacs. Last week, 50 Cent, along with several other entertainers, was 
People don't say "jacuzzi" anymore. They say "hot tub". And this is a
tragic thing, yet another example of the decline of Western
Civilization. Because jacuzzi is quite simply an awesome word. Undoubtedly
this jacuzzi/tub shift came about because jacuzzi began to be
associated with a sort of blow-and-models eurotrash sex binge, and in
an effort to make it more palatable to suburban households They (see:
the industry, media, etc.) integrated "hot tub" into the portable jet
stream bath vernacular. Now, it is true that Jacuzzi is a brand name.
But that's no excuse to drop this gem (see: "Xerox" vs. "copy machine").
And the point is, I don't want a tub. I want a jacuzzi. And not
necessarily a Jacuzzi jacuzzi. I want the word. Because when you get a
word like jacuzzi, you don't just throw that thing away in the name of a
sanitized marketing strategy. You hold onto it with dear life. Words
like jacuzzi don't grow on trees. They're one in a million. Think of
all the words we have to describe other things that are total crap.
For example, "blog". This is an atrocious word to describe a regularly
updated journal-like website. Hopefully one day someone will drop a
better term to describe what you're reading right now. And inevitably,
the Man will force us to use a third, lamer word. Like warm
circulating water, it's simply the cycle of our linguistically p.c.
world. And my only solution is to t try to relax with a couple of
hookers, an eight ball of blow, and a nice long dip in the hot tub.
From 
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!
Organizers of the Popped! Festival aren't moving the event to New Jersey. But they are 
Last week the World Authority In Charge of the Olympics (WACO)
announced that some South African dude is 
Whoda thunk Thursday night's most intriguing live proposition would be at 
What's new in the tumultuous world of Grizzled Grandpa Fist-Shakery, you ask? It's a new spin on a classic theme. Tired of telling individual youngsters to turn that damned music down, the old folks have expanded their vision, working the dark recesses of local politics in an effort to 
After a full 365 days of consideration, Philabuster highlights some of 07's best tunes.
Happy New Years, Stampers. Hope yours was better than mine. See, I've
been plagued by computer problems. Computer bug problems, to be exact.
And when I say computer bug, I'm not using some cute euphemism for a
technical issue. I'm talking literal bugs. I have this brown ant
living inside of my laptop. It pops out of the monitor or the keyboard
for a second, but scurries back inside before I can smash it. At first
I thought it was all very humorous, and even named it CharlieSlim. But
recently, I've noticed tiny little computer ant chilrin' scurrying
about my work space, signaling a full-on onslaught and infestation. I
can only assume the mother and offspring bug mutants are surviving on
the succulent and juicy chips inside my Macintosh. And my poor worm
infested Apple is slowly dying, as if it had the other kind of
computer bug. Programs are crashing, searches are slow, and I think I can even
hear them gnawing at my Mac's innards. But despite all my
computer problems, I see big things in '08. Why? One word: Pixar. I'm
turning this whole bug infestation into a cash infestation, 'cause I'm
selling the story to Steve Jobs. This computer bug thing has got
intelligent, family-friendly CGI animated feature written all over it.
Technology and Nature, first both at odds, but eventually coming
together to fight the evil computer virus. Plus the tie-ins between
Jobs' Apple Computer and Pixar companies is a product placers wet
dream. So, while in the short term, these bugs are the cause of my
problems, by this time next year I'm going to be preparing my Golden
Globe speech and cashing my royalties for The Computer Bug. And
therein lies my advice to all of you for '08. When life gives you
lemons, make lemonade. Or in this case, when life gives you a bugged
out apple, turn it into an extraordinary (cash) machine. Speaking of
bugged out apples, Fiona, take it away...
After a full 365 days of consideration, Philabuster highlights some of 07's best tunes.
Blown-up bathrooms, dolls.
