Pablo bit his lip, the two undergraduates at the table next to him in The Satellite were talking about Pi Lam.

“Dude, Sean Agnew and Dave P. were totally in there, like tripping balls!” said one, sporting a new Animal Collective T-shirt.

“I know, Philebrity even said it was the coolest party in town that weekend!” answered his cohort. The cohort apparently was more a fan of Parts & Labor.

Pablo looked into his Candy Bar Latte and his mind drifted…back to 1994, when people caleld him Acorn and he lived in various squats around the neighborhood. Pi Lam had given out free beer on Thursdays and the squatters were fond of it. Once he had been ejected from a Boss Hook-Up / Thorazine / Dead Gerber Babies show for pissing in their trash cans in the basement. Well, at least Pi Lam was still around.

Pablo finished his latte and headed back to his job at the Linguistic Data Consortium…

This is easily the best thread on the internet today. And it pokes fun of this abortion of an article.

Here’s three events happening at my day job very soon that might be down the alleys of random readers of this blog. All programs are FREE and open to the public. The Writers House is located at 3805 Locust Walk, on the campus of the University of Pennsylvania.

A lot of the times programs at work wind up being background noise to me, but that’s mainly because I deal with the administrative end of things. If you couldn’t tell from this blog that I have some slight interest in music/culture writing, and so for once it’s like, finally, something that appeals to me. It would be fantastic if you could come out and support these events, in order to keep them happening at KWH! (And feel free to check out our calendar for other great events.)

Read the rest of this entry »

From the “Right Place, Right Time” department: I’ve chimed in on the so-called Meg White sex tape for Idolator.

But while I’m here, I just want to give a shout out to Idolator, who celebrates their first year of existence in the music blog world. Maura and Jess (and previously Brian, too) have done a great job — here’s to more years of success. If I could be in NYC tonight, I would!

In lieu of asking the age-old question, “Why?”, here is what they call “content”:

» Mission:300 was awesome, I managed to bowl one decent game, and then someone committed a serious party foul. Not the first time for this particular dude, either. Y’know, I happen to like a lot of graffiti and find the subculture fascinating. But that’s besides the point. Was this particular instance really worth it? Think back through the past 10 years of Philly hipster/indie rock nightlife, where a lot of cultural organizations opened up their halls to a bunch of strangers (RUBA, UACA, Polish National, etc). Now they don’t — and I can’t help but wonder if the selfish impulses and lame stunts are to blame (even in some small part). I guess we might as well start counting St. Monica’s among the dead, and make funeral preparations for the Society of Free Letts, because you know someone is going to ruin that place too. Like a Botoxed Main Line mom would hiss: this is why we can’t have nice things.

» I swear I’m not getting all my info from BCO these days — though the hundreds upon hundreds of pages I have to read for class certainly prevent me from being more, um, one with the world: Espers’ enchantress Meg Baird is on tour with the Sea & Cake right now; her tour manager Steven Ward James (a fine musician in his own right) is updating the world on this particular post. The random professional musician-themed signage in the South is worth checking in every couple of days.

» I’ve got mixed feelings about Gossip Girl. The first seven minutes were genius — the Peter, Bjorn & John opening, the bitchy yogurt commentary — but the rest of it was a little meh. Not the dramatic, bitchy splash I’d been hoping for. Could it be that working for a college has me a bit jaded when it comes to the world of the Young, Privileged & Restless? I mean, I didn’t even roll my eyes when I saw the nontroversy over Ben Kweller in the school paper. Maybe I’ve come down with an acute case of tired-of-shooting-fish-in-barrel-itis.

Here’s what did hit me though: when Kristen Bell’s voiceovers began, I suddenly realized that Veronica Mars was never coming back. Never ever ever ever ever ever. Never ever ever ever ever ever. Never ever ever ever ever ever. Not even an inside glimpse of Henri Bendel could cheer me up.

» After Paul F Tompkins’ show at Helium a couple weeks back, I picked up Scrawl’s Travel On, Rider for a buck, thanks to the keen eye of Jon Solomon. I can’t believe I’ve made this a glaring omission in my Scrawl discography! It’s jarring, angry and sad in the way that I want a Scrawl release to be.

Scrawl, “I’m Not Stuck” (Buy)

» Sue Harshe’s (of Scrawl) Myspace
» Surly Girl Saloon (Columbus, OH); owned by Marcy Mays

I was at the station yesterday afternoon tending to some business stuff when quite unexpectedly I wound up partially covering a shift. Given that I only had six minutes to get my act together, this could have been a lot worse:

9/17/2007 - 15:45-17:00

the breeders - so sad about us - safari ep
—————————
helium - xxx - pirate prude
tomorrow’s friend - who asked you anyways? - some days yes, some days more than yes! - N
—————————
new pornographers - all things that go to make heaven and earth - challengers - N
the feelies - high road - the good earth
gore gore girls - loaded heart - get the gore - N
the stereos - stereo freeze - chicago soul - C
ESG - talk it - step off
spanky wilson - sunshine of your love - FunkSoulSisters - C
—————————
the evens - no money - get even
sonic youth - candle - daydream nation - N
oakley hall - no dreams - ill follow you - N
home blitz - my town - home blitz - N
slade - do we still do it - in for a penny: raves & faves - N
eleventh dream day - ice storm - stalled parade
18th dye - glass house failure - tribute to a bus
—————————
versus - yeah you - secret swingers

OMG, school is so freaking awesome. I read hundreds and hundreds of pages, then I think about how it relates to the things I do! Granted, the thing that I do is listen to music, watch TV and goof around on the internet — which really means the only thing I can focus on these days is Britney Spears. (Who, I should add, looks great for having two kids but seriously needs to rethink the whole “wearing underwear on stage” schtick. So confidential to Brit Brit: listen to your handlers, please, when they tell you to cover up.)

I recently re-read Douglas Coupland’s Shampoo Planet; inspired by its Table of Elements and Tragic Character Flaws, it popped into my mind to boil down a lot of the phenomenological and cultural elements of the 1990’s into bite-sized, two-word phrases. Here’s some suggestions, courtesy of friends. (Thanks to all who indulged in this exercise.) I have no idea why I capitalized this originally — maybe it was the spirit of Coupland flowing through my veins:

PLATFORM BIRKENSTOCKS
OK SODA
CRYSTAL PEPSI
GRUNGE ROCK
RIOT GRRRL
120 MINUTES
SEVEN INCH
CHAPEL HILL
BILL CLINTON
SASSY MAGAZINE
BENETTON COLORS
GLOBAL TEENS
REALITY BITES
DOC MARTENS
FLANNEL SHIRTS
THE CROW
PEARL JAM
INDIE ROCK
ALTERNATIVE NATION
GANGSTA RAP
THE CHRONIC
NOTORIOUS B.I.G.
ARSENIO HALL
SUB POP
SIMPLE MACHINES
JESSE CAMP
VANILLA ICE
COUNTING CROWS
SPIN DOCTORS
BLUES TRAVELER
BEE GIRL
SPICE GIRLS
MONICA LEWINSKY
LILITH FAIR
AARON SPELLING
SHANNEN DOHERTY
TORI AMOS
KOSOVO CONFLICT
NAPSTER DOWNLOADS
SMART DRUGS
FOAM PARTIES
BLIND MELON
ANTIOCH RULES
SPIN MAGAZINE
MATT PINFIELD
SECOND STAGE (as in Lollapalooza)
SOUL PATCH
THIRD WAVE
‘ZINE CONVENTION
SOUP NAZI
YADDA YADDA
DOT COM
INTERNET STARTUP
STOCK OPTIONS
URBAN FETCH
SMASHING PUMPKINS
POP LOSER
ROLLINS BAND
NEW MEDIA

Sunday night, I could have gone to the Acid Mothers Guru Guru show — which I’m sure was amazing, given the nature of the collaboration — or I could have checked out Samara Lubelski at Big Jar — considering how much her new record rules, would have been great. But the idea of standing around on the eve of an extended weekend with a bunch of dudes stroking their chins over the music (a mild reprieve from stroking another part of their body, I’m willing to wager) was on par in my mind with a meal of liverwurst and onions. In short, blech. (Apologies to L&O; I’m sure it’s a fine meal.)

What I really needed was a good party — not merely a celebration of the extended weekend, but a good solid kickoff to the semester. Truth: I love events like Making Time and [click.] because of the cardio workout it gives me. And Sunday night couldn’t have been more perfect for that — a solid 4-5 hours of pogoing, fist pumping and sweating (but not to the oldies). DJ’s Orgasmic and Surkin were unfuckingrelentless the heavy electro jams, and the audience, well, this was probably the most insane, punk rock audience I’ve encountered in a while outside of a hardcore show.

I probably could have stayed longer, but I’m a firm believer in “leaving on a high note”. Two days later, I’m thanking myself for it — oh, the aches! Now it’s a matter of convincing my body of the same.