If Modest Mouse had an even zanier little cousin, it’d sound somewhat like the Atlanta band The Press. Like its predecessor, The Press like their yowls light and their lyrics winsome, with a twist or two of quirk. What makes The Press stand out, however, is their knack for injecting rootsy and funk-pop elements, sometimes in the same song. Think Rock Lobster-style B-52’s meets Dispatch meets folksy Ween. Nice, oui? Check them out tonight at the Delancey.

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[Leven Rambin parties at Angels and Kings, Photo by Etta Shon]

Go HERE for more photos from this event. (Um what is Michael Musto wearing btw? It’s like some sort of hybrid-camouflage)

Last night Patrick McMullan, Peter Davis, Sam Bolton, Sparrow Dr. Mark Warfel, Mark Silver, Luigi Tadini, Julliano DeRossi, Jamison Ernest, Scott Currie, and Alan Rish Hosted the Party at Angels and Kings. We had fellow blog friend MRod Nation check it out for us. Here’s what he had to say:

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After visiting R Bar last night to see a friend’s cover band, our group wandered down Bowery to the new bar on the street, King’s Cross. Just south of BBar, the subterranean space is easy to miss, but worth the search — the lack of signage and storefront only adds to the speakeasy feel (just look for number 356). Once inside, your hipster bartenders will warm your soul with a pint or a mixed drink while you groove to new wave and post-punk, all the while chatting up the hot guy (or girl) standing beside you. I can’t say that there is anything so spectacular about the drink menu here, but I’d go back just for the un-hyped, lounge-y space and the fresh beats. I will have to find my bitters, my jalapeño-infused Herradura and my St. Germain Elderflowery Liqueur elsewhere, but I still choose King’s Cross over aesthetic counterparts like Death & Co. and PDT. Now if only they could get some Crif dogs in there …

[Ghost Lion]

Ghost Lion, the relatively small and therefore “hip” Indie Rock band has been busy lately. While they recently have been favoring R Bar for their shows, they are set to play at Alphabet Lounge tonight in the village. If you have yet to hear them, check out their MySpace page to decide for yourself if it’s worth the visit downtown. If their live music is anything like their headwear choices (see above), I’m already a big fan. (And I’m guessing the lovely Arden Wohl is as well?)

["You've Got To Be Choosy"...With Your Men And Your Headwear]

[Photo via NY Mag]

We may be loyal to our friends, but when it comes to food, we prefer to play the field, especially when our current field is the ethnic and specialty shop-strewn East Village. While we can be dunkined, ‘bucked, or Brennered in a matter of seconds, the devils we know lose out when the alternatives are not just alternative but superior. Rather than inundate you, dear ADD(led) surfers, we shall provide a weekly spotlight. Read, if you’ve got the concentration/time/interest, and then go, or, lacking these, just go. This time the name’s Trufette, and it’s on Avenue B between 6th and 7th. We weren’t sure what lay beneath the little gray storefront when we first walked by -was the title literal, or just an indicator of really expensive and hard-to-find stuff? Both, it turned out, though, considering the quality, “really expensive” could be dropped. Trufette is the retail branch of S.O.S. Chefs; the owner, Atef Boulaabi, is a godsave for David Chang and Gabrielle Hamilton alike. The store is lined with old-school apothecary drawers filled with everything from almond syrup to pimprenelle powder. There’s a changing menu of imported mushrooms (honshimeji, porcini, yellowfoot, hen of the wood). Those of you whose budgets exceed student stipend levels can check out truffles, Spanish saffron, and fennel pollen; we settled for Sicilian pistachios and a blood orange fruit puree. Give us a lengthy dictionary sesh and we’ll be back.
Trufette
104 Ave. B
212.505.5813

[Burp Castle, Photo via NY Mag]

Kan ik de kamer zien? Nee…Yesterday, DBTH informed us that Belgium Room’s underage brew crew is currently in need of a new dive in which to guzzle those Delirium Tremens. Tragedy? Nous pensons que non. While we’re certainly in favor of lax doors, and like our bière et frites as much as the next semi Flemish/Francophile, we prefer cette expérience sans an NYU frat-tinged soundtrack. We suggest those displaced FIJI’s head over to Burp Castle. They have potent suds and spuds aplenty (from the très authentiquely greasy Pomme Frites) plus the mash-up of Gregorian chants and gratuitous innuendo –shall we call it The Greg Album?, could be the next grand chose. Dangermouse, watch yo’back.

[Photo via DBTH]

We often wonder the same thing Chef Pants….
(On the coverings of what will soon be the new Pinkberry on St. Marks)