Archive for March, 2008
Rock Band
Tonight at Jour et Nuit (8 W 58th)
7-12pm
Be there.
Ruff!
-Warren Buffett, July ‘07
You’ve heard their bellowing on the subways. If you’ve been unlucky enough to be in Times Square, you’ve also heard it there, in Union Square, in Herald Square, and at a few other strategically selected street corners in Manhattan. And if you’re anything like me, you’ve wondered, “What is the deal with the United Homeless Organization? Should I feel guilty for not giving them some change or is it OK to feel contemptuous of their imposition on legitimate charities, my eardrums, and this subway ride?”
So, here’s the deal: More »
Sometimes it gets lonely in New York. The best cinematic portrayal I’ve ever seen of this estranged feeling is in Thirteen Conversations About One Thing when the old guy gets on the subway and shares that sad smile with the woman who has just decided to leave her husband. We all put on our street gear, adorned however we wish the world to accept us, but we’re all toting around baggage as well—and I’m not talking the Louis Vuitton kind. In a land where “networking” and “friendships” walk a blurry tight rope—and blogs can blab your beeswax in like, a second—sometimes its hard to find a buddy to confide in. Perhaps that’s why FlexPetz is the new/old buzz. The best thing about furry pals is, even though they obey English, they’ll never betray those little secrets you whisper in their ear during those rented hours you spend together, strolling the park, or just cuddling in bed or on the couch watching TV. Too bad for the ole Spitz, the same doesn’t go for hookers. Perhaps sleazy politicians should just settle for some sloppy kisses from one of these guys. They’re loyalty, from what I hear, is through the roof. And they don’t require penthouse suites or any of that junk. A bite of your deli sandwich will suffice.
[Rent-a-Doggie]
[Photo via Manchester Evening News]
Leonard Cohen was placed on this Earth to (1) freak us out with his baritone vocals and (2) provide a stunning counterpoint to what can happen when we press pause on the American Idol/Hannah Montana mediocrity machine that’s been sucking the life out of our musical landscape for the past decade. You think you’re embarrassed by Bush’s colloquial mishaps and brain-dead foreign policy maneuvers?
Just know that when foreigners meet you for the first time, their initial thought is that the U.S.’s biggest export is crappy, white-washed pop music and that you, the neanderthal-American, are responsible for the Hannah Montana-ing of the global record industry. So strike a blow for quality music lovers everywhere and check out Dave Eggers’ art exhibit Lots of Things Like This, which includes art and words from the likes of Cohen, Kurt Vonnegut, and David Mamet, among others. The pieces aren’t limited to music or literature, but given Eggers hobby/cultural phenomenon, I’d say they’re pretty safe bets. A few of Eggers’ completely non-McSweeney’s-esque ramblings below. Try not to pull a muscle:
More »
When was your first “club experience”? I am going to go out on a limb and say that whether you are some hotshot model, some hedge fund owner, or some happily married half, we have all had a similar experience on that very first time we set foot into a club. Whether you were a 17 year old character straight out of Gossip Girl, or a post grad transplant from the midwest to the city…really how could your “first” be that much different to mine, or theirs, or theirs? Even the owners of these places will admit as much (they too were once a peon at the door).
That first experience for most, left you feeling that the owners of the entire operation were no less than some kinds of gods. Today, you may realize how naiive you were in assuming that, yet there’s still no doubt that these “club gods” are crafty organizers. And they have to be. The club business. is. a. HARD.BUSINESS. With skyrocketing rents, stiff competition, and lawsuits around every corner, it has become an entirely different mammoth. I’m acting like I know what I’m talking about again…. More »
[Model Agyness Deyn with Misshapes' Jackson Pollis and Geordan Nicol]
More pictures from the event, taken by Single Threat
Normally when there are mammoth video screens flashing up shots of hot guys dressed in skimpy underwear, one would assume they are in a cruisy gay bar in Chelsea. No, not tonight…We were a bit further downtown; oddly enough, at the Tribeca Grand Hotel. And the scantily clad guys weren’t up on screen to act as a catalyst to get horny guys to buy more drinks and then go home with each other. The video screens flashing these buff gents were the subject of a video art installation by photog-artist, Jeremy Kost entitled “Not Yet Titled (Making Faces)”, 2008.
You may know him as the Polaroid picture taking scion, but for this exhibit his tool of choice was the video camera; capturing still shots of male models (only in underwear) making funny faces. It was erotically playful and goofy – I kind of loved it. And I think having four large screens (think 15 feet tall by 7 feet wide) switching up images of these hotties every couple of minutes kept the mood light and fresh. More »
In response to NY Mag’s Cover article this week titled “Testing Horace Mann“:
“So basically, we have a presidential election going and our new governor is two weeks into his term. And of course, NY Mag runs a story that a) isn’t real news but just an agenda-driven rag, and b) is REALLY old news. No one even cares about any of the stuff mentioned in here anymore. I know that I shouldn’t really expect much from the poor man’s version of the NY Post, but come on.”
By yanks_in_08 on 03/31/2008 at 8:22am
Normally, we aren’t particularly fond of Red Bull. It’s overly sweet and under-carbonated, plus it costs more than its hulking brethren. However, at last night’s NYU Thesis Film Party at the Red Bull Lounge in Soho, we made many an exception. Ten dollar tickets bought all the vodka/Redbulls our young blood could manage, and by midnight there were at least 200 relevers beslicking the dance floor, each other, and the endless white couches, nearly all of whom stayed the 2 am close. From what we recollect, the films were typical abstract, conceptual, fuzzy-lensed student fare — we’re still puzzling over one that consisted of a harried mother shoving oatmeal into her infant’s mush-flecked maw over and over and over. Infinitely more enjoyable: the sight of one hunting capped hipster leaning in to nuzzle a cobalt-haired companion, only to fall flat on his Wayfarers. When the wings wear off, one should always fall with style.
Well obviously we at GofG are pretty big rock band fans, the game and going to see the professionals do what they do best… ROCK OUT. Over the weekend we got a chance to catch such actual professionals play a show. What What Where is a Brooklyn based combo who’ve been making noise for the past few years. Former Virginians turned NY hipsters make a noise so familiar yet different enough to make heads turn, feet move and fingers pop. Their music is a combination of the best stuff that’s been popular in music for the last 15 or 20 years. The guitar riffage of rock, the back beat of dance, the staccato punctuation of rap and the ever so prized aesthetic of punk. These guys play around the city a lot in fact their next show is at the Crash Mansion April 18. Highly recommended.
You’ve heard their bellowing on the subways. If you’ve been unlucky enough to be in Times Square, you’ve also heard it there, in Union Square, in Herald Square, and at a few other strategically selected street corners in Manhattan. And if you’re anything like me, you’ve wondered, “What is the deal with the United Homeless Organization? Should I feel guilty for not giving them some change or is it OK to feel contemptuous of their imposition on legitimate charities, my eardrums, and this subway ride?”
Sometimes it gets lonely in 
When was your first “club experience”? I am going to go out on a limb and say that whether you are some hotshot model, some hedge fund owner, or some happily married half, we have all had a similar experience on that very first time we set foot into a club. Whether you were a 17 year old character straight out of Gossip Girl, or a post grad transplant from the midwest to the city…really how could your “first” be that much different to mine, or theirs, or theirs? Even the owners of these places will admit as much (they too were once a peon at the door).
