This is a top notch post. Note to self: I need to post my interview with Sharkey and Chuck Meehan The Legend on here, like, tonight.

No, really: yours truly at the Spice Girls concert in Newark, NJ. (Photo: JGH)

I’ve seen so many shows lately — No Age, Spice Girls, Julienne Baird, Clockcleaner, Home Blitz, Lame Drivers, Gang, Robyn, The Apes, Br’er, Blood on the Wall, CaUSE Co-MOTION!, Make A Rising, etc – that I feel like I’m in my own little version of SXSW (SXMTS, perhaps?). Even crazier is that all my coursework is getting done. I win at life!

Recently, I wound up with a copy of the new Constantines album, Kensington Heights. Being such a huge fan of this band, you should probably take my review with a grain of salt…. Not that I don’t love Tournament of Hearts, but this definitely feels more like they record they intended to make post-Shine A Light. (Toby and I were chatting about this over the weekend, and I believe ToH sounds like a late-career record, rather than the follow-up to a record that defined them as a group.) It’s a strong record throughout, and maybe not as obviously fist-pumping anthemic as some would like, but I have found “Trans-Canada” and “Brother Run Them Down” creeping up into the back of my head numerous times as I traverse the icy tundra of unshoveled Philadelphia sidewalks. (Srsly, the lack of snow cleanup in this godforsaken town is embarrassing.) Why I really like it (and why I like any record, for that matter): KH invokes enough inverse presence to fit the particulars of my personal life.

I’m worming my way through the new Breeders album (Mountain Battles) at the moment. I’m not all the way at the end, but here are two quick observations: (a) sound deliciously muddy and thick; (b) the songs feel really short. If you are one of those types who dig the whole nu-lo-fi scene (HB, NA, etc), you’ll probably enjoy it, too — unless you have hang-ups about women who can out-scuzz any of these younguns in a heartbeat. Also: no one sings like Kim Deal. No one.

In other news, I’ve joined the 21st century with the acquisition of a LCD flat-panel TV. (It sits next to my whole stereo set-up, so I have dubbed it the “LCD Soundsystem.” Sigh, I know.) Kind of perfect timing, since I’m currently taking a class on telepresence, and the whole high-definition thing falls neatly into those studies. While I love television, I refuse to fork over my hard-earned money to an organization like Comcast. (Also: the more channels I get, the less I find actually interesting!) So I get by with a pair of rabbit ears, which does not have the World’s Greatest Reception, but hey, it’s free. With the new TV, I have access to digital reception and I gotta say it’s pretty fantastic. Can’t wait to see how this plays out in the future. Just a quick PSA: analog broadcast ends next year, so you might want to check out dtv.gov and get acquainted with how to make the switch. There are voucher programs to assist with the cost of upgrading, but read the site and see what you need to do.

Last but not least, I finally understand the whole bike-nerd culture. I saved up for a custom-built road bike and it feels like heaven. Or freedom. Wait, isn’t that the same thing?

» Closing note: can anyone put me in touch with John Sayles? Weird request, I know.

Minus the meth addiction, it’s like Jon Arbuckle is a mirror of my soul.

Saturday I traveled to D.C. to interview Marc Masters for my new program, and took in the release party for No Wave. The bands were great (Dark Sea Dream, Vapour Theories & Kohoutek), as well as the DJ — Mark C of Live Skull, who brought every no wave release in existence, and them some none of had even heard of.

Two “hilarious” incidents occurred during my trip to our nation’s capitol that are worth relaying: first, being evacuated from Union Station due to a fire. I had time to spare, so I took in some retail therapy thanks to Union Station’s built-in mall. While I was trying on a pair of pants at Express (mea culpa: I was just curious!), the dressing room attendant knocked on my door to let me know the building was being evacuated. Not unlike a scene in a sitcom, trying to get back into my street clothes and collect my belongings was a comedy of errors. I stood outside the station for an hour of uneventfulness before I decided to find the nearest Metro station and get on with the day. Secondly, I lost my voice that evening (it started to go almost as soon as I was done with my interview, wouldn’tyaknow), so if I seemed absolutely anti-social, it was due to my throat feeling like a million needles were lodged in it.

Sunday night I returned to Philadelphia and caught No Age at the Queen of Sheeba II. (Liars cancelled due to illness, so they moved it west.) I don’t know if it’s the sheer proximity to my apartment, or the abundance of injera, but QoSII is shaping up to be one of my favorite spots to see a show lately. It was a great show up until the guitarist broke into the audience, parted us like the Red Sea and stood right next to me. Totally awkward, especially when I think about how I’m probably in everyone’s Flickr photostream today.

Tonight I am off to sunny Newark, NJ to attend the Spice Girls concert, Posh or no Posh. I’ll be the one in the No Age t-shirt, because once all this gallivanting is done, I need to do some top serious laundry. I’ll be Twittering from it whenever I can, so feel free to check it out.

In the meantime, enjoy “Boy Void” from Weirdo Rippers, one of my favorite releases from 2007. Not only does the title just sounds like the apt term to describe my romantic life (srsly, don’t pity me ’cause I like it this way), the song’s strum-und-clang seems to translate the frustration of being an outsider nicely. You can buy the whole thing here.

Tally ho! Progress! And all that. Today I picked up my new audio equipment and soon enough, you’ll be able to hear Her Jazz in addition to reading it. Actually, my newfangled technological goodness is for a new series I am producing for WPRB. (But I can’t resist putting up some outtakes [and other odds’n'ends] here, you know?) You’ll be hearing more about it soon enough.

I went to see Robyn perform at the Highline Ballroom in NYC Tuesday night. I bought the tickets the nanosecond I got the announcement about her U.S. shows, but as the semester began creeping around the corner, I wasn’t entirely sure I could make it. But Lady Luck (or more specifically, some course scheduling wackiness) shone on me. What’s a word for something more ephemeral than ephemeral? ‘Cause that’s what Robyn’s performance felt like, in a good way. The room was packed to the gills and if she had run over her 30-minute (plus encore) set, I don’t think I would have enjoyed it as much. You can read elsewhere the setlists and whatnot. The lone misstep (in my eyes!) was clubby, clunky electro version of “Bum Like You,” one of my favorite songs of hers. The strum-und-sparseness of the album version aches, the live adaptation just seemed too cheeky. (Who knew it was written with Chuck Bukowski in mind?) Otherwise, a flawless, energetic, charming set that I hope will stick out in my mind as 2008 steamrolls on.

The newest CaUSE Co-MOTION! 7″ arrived in the mail earlier this week and it’s a scorcher. Looking forward to their show on 2/19 at Johnny Brenda’s with fellow Brooklynites Blood on the Wall. (Note to self, and perhaps you: I/we/you still need to pick up Liferz!)