Friday, June 24, 2005

You better get me to school on time...

There's a "School of Rock" thingy at Paramount's Kings Dominion. And I don't know what to say about this.

Thursday, June 23, 2005

The road of life takes many turns...

That fucking Chase commercial still drives me up a wall. Do you think when Five for Fighting writes a song, they're like "This'll sound great in a treackly commercial"? My guess? Absolutely.

Whole lot of walkin' to do...

Because I refuse to pay service charges, and even more because I'm a procrastinator, I didn't get tickets for Ted Leo's sold out show tonight. When does Ted Leo sell out the 9:30 Club? What kind of marvelous world is it that Ted Leo sells out the 9:30? I saw him three times last summer, and when I saw him at the Black Cat, they sold out, but I still got tickets by walking up. Of course, the Black Cat might not be the best barometer, as I don't know if they do all ages shows, and I don't know how much advance sales they do (although recently Bloc Party and Stephen Malkmus have sold out there more than a few days in advance).

I walked down to try and scavange tickets but was turned away by my own shyness and the massive amounts of high schoolers also looking for tickets. The will call window was full of kids with their parents' credit card numbers written on index cards. And while it's beautiful that these kids are into the indie rock, and remind me of me outside the Trocadero in Philly during the early '90s, I also cursed them because I didn't have a ticket and even if I did, I don't exactly enjoy all ages shows. So I did what they cannot do and went to a few bars and drank too-expensive beer. So eat it, high schoolers.

So I'm home, drinking cheap wine from a mug, watching game 7 of the NBA Finals. I'm kind of hoping during halftime Rob Thomas clears up exactly how a heart breaks, as his song is vague at best. My bet? It involves Robert Horry and the city of Detroit being burned to the ground.

Tuesday, June 21, 2005

Smoke on the water...

Wow, they actually found a way to make the Philly Live 8 lin up look good. I mean, Barenaked Ladies, Bryan Adams, and Deep Purple? Hosted by Tom Green and Dan Ackroyd? Neil Young could take a dump onstage and it would be a better show.

This is all I can take/ this is how a heart breaks...

It's already been documented how much Rob Thomas' "This Is How A Heart Breaks" absolutely fucking sucks as an NBA Finals theme. But it deserves another meantion. It makes me think Congress really should apologize for lynching. I read Rob's "Woe is me" article in GQ. And I felt bad for second. A quick second. But boo-hoo-fucking-hoo. If you're listening to Wilco and putting out the shit he does, would you be surprsied Tweedy sees you as a musical pariah? I don't think Mr. Thomas walked in and said, "this should should sound like a ghost is born". Fuck you, Rob Thomas. You are a musical pariah. Boo. Fucking. Hoo.

By the way, cheers to Morningstar Chik Patties. And free Jack and Cokes at the Childe Harold. Jeers to AIDS in Africa.

Monday, June 20, 2005

Welcomed you with broken arms...

I put a little Golden Smog on my set list because Karl Mueller died, but then realized that Dan Murphy was the Soul Asylum member in that band. It doesn't change the fact that it's a great album and Dan contributes some sweet pop moments, and that I should really quit smoking, because Westerberg's not going to play a concert for me if I come down with the cancer.

Saturday, June 18, 2005

That's great, it starts with an earthquake...

"When the world ends in 200 years, it'd be nice to have it be 'Oh, yeah, and the best band was Coldplay'."
-Chris Martin, in the new Entertainment Weekly

Would naming Coldplay best band ever be on the list of things we need to sort out as the crumbles around us, or would such an act actually trigger the end of the world? Would God toss down his almighty fire, saying "I gave you the Beatles and the Stones, and you do this to me? This is so totally ten times worse than any golden calf."

I mean, yeah, it would be nice for you. And it would be nice for me to be recognized for having the longest continuous subscription to Entertainment Weekly with an all-you-can-eat ice cream social. And it would be nice for the guy in that commercial where the girl plugs the hole in the rowboat with a tampon to be recognized as the greatest tampon commercial actor of his generation. But none of this will happen.

Sunday, June 12, 2005

You wrote a book about yourself/ the people left it on the shelf/ You'll write another one/ now you've got a story that's worth talking about...

The Post gets it right and recommends Motley Crue's "The Dirt" as part of their summer reading list. They also recommend Dylan's "Chronicles", which I'm working my way through now. But more importantly: "The Dirt"! It's the best! Go read it!

Friday, June 10, 2005

Flipping through the photos they send ya...

According to an email from Matador, The New Pornographers are playing the 9:30 Club on October 15. It's not anywhere on the website, so this must mean one thing... Matador likes me. They have a crush on me, and they're trying to get me to like them by sending me secret info on beloved indie-rock bands. Well, I'm blushing Matador. But it's going to take more than that to lift my skirt.

Wednesday, June 08, 2005


Fort Reno slowly marches toward a full schedule and announces the first show, with four bands I've never heard of. This doesn't necessarily mean it's going to be band, but let's be honest... it doesn't bode well. Because I know all.

In related news, I've begun an official countdown to the one-year anniversary of the last time Superchunk updated the news section of their homepage. I haven't put this on the site because I'm no magician, but it is firmly ensconced in my head. My reliable head. I hope I didn't jinx it. Kudos, 'Chunk.

You know the type/ loud as a motorbike/ couldn't bust a grape in a fruit fight...

What fucking cosmic clown-car accident happened that resulted in this picture being taken? Shouldn't some large, silent Puerto Rican man have swooped down on the photographer and eaten the camera or something? I've seen animal porn less disturbing. And I'm talking, like, dog on cat, with a rooster watching. (I totally stole that from the Kids in the Hall movie!)

And that guy on the right? Don't look him straight in the eyes, or he'll see deep into your darkest soul. He knows how you listened to the lambs crying. But he's more concerned about that homoerotic dream you had about Prince senior year of college.

By way of, by the way. Credit where credit is due.

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