Mac & Cheese for Easter Dinner

Look at this place. The show listing is a mess--not to mention completely un-updated. I'm getting sloppy. You'll deal, I'm sure. Look, I'm going to go over the weirdness that has been this weekend so far. You might not want to read it, I don't really give a rat's ass. Friday night looked like it was going to be a bust. I met v1.0 at the Glass Onion and we sat at the bar with a few people and read the closed captioning on The Late Late Show. I was getting pretty absorbed in the show when I look back and realize that Rachel's been over at this table with 5 or 6 guys for a while, and they were all getting pretty trashed so I wander over and pull up a chair because I want to talk to the cute boys too. A few rounds later, everyone's feeling pretty good and since the bar's closing, we go over to the Two Way. I mean things were just then starting to get interesting, right, so might as well keep it going. For whatever reason, we ended up staying at the Two Way for a while, Rachel disappeared, I tell Cort I'll drop him off at his place, but on the way to the car, we run into the other guys from the Onion and we all decided to hit Printer's Alley. What? Printer's Alley. Gross. One drink there, and then we all 6+ piled back into their car as the sun's coming up over E.H. Crump stadium and we decide that hot tubbing in Harbor Town sounds golden. We go over to one of the guy's house to get some clothes and another roommate and have a short lived New Order Dance Party. The neighbors were milling around, it was 6am, we all go wake the roommate up, i borrow some boxer shorts and a t-shirt, Cort and I fought over the stereo, I tell him I can take him, wrestling match ensues, I let him win because boy egos bruise easy and I'm nice like that, finally rallied to the hot tubs about 7:30 or 8:00, stop for gas, get downtown--the water's COLD. What a lame excuse for a hot tub. If I was paying all that money for one of those frikkin apartments in Harbor Town, the hot tub had damn well better be HOT. So, back into the car, back to place with New Order Dance Party, still have boxer shorts sticking out at the bottom of my skirt, crash out on the couch, discover that my boots have grown to my feet and won't come off, the one guy starts VACUUMING. WTF, man. You're drunk, people are trying to SLEEP, why the hell are you vacuuming? Whatever. Got about 12 minutes sleep then everyone gets up and sturts bullshitting around and I sit on couch looking grumpy because I wanted to sleep before going to work. Basketball on TV. Guy arguing with girlfriend on phone. I make myself eggs. Have roommate drive me to my car. Go home, change, go to work. Work sucks. Told guy I work with that I would come over to his mom's house for Easter dinner today. (Oops.) Went home, showered, changed, watched Jerry Springer, ate too many french fries. Pouted. Decide I can't keep being lame, so I get it together about 12:30am or so and head up to the Buc where I caught The Royal Pendletons. They were fun, but what made it really, really great was that everone got trashed and dude was making out with the mermaid picture on the wall and somebody got the mic and rolled around screaming. I took it from him and did a little wailing, myself. I was hott. Danced. Lots. Told my boss that I wanted to make out with her. (Hope that doesn't make things awkward, later.) We all meet up at the Two Way. Some chick pours beer down Bayne's shirt. I thought it was kind of funny, but I told him I'd beat her up if he wanted me to. He said go for it, but I got distracted because I saw Laura, my boss, again and we had a girl moment when we couldn't figure out who was next in line for the bathroom and went in together. Sweet. So, basically, I found out that I may not be completely over my bar fight phase, I really, really like hanging out with the boys, I actually do not mind the limelight, and life's better when there's nobody at home worrying about you. Damn, that was probably the biggest waste of time. Ever. Right. So, tonight, Buccaneer; Glossary, Hedgecreep, The Special Rider. More insanity to follow. It's going to be a crazy week.


Clem Snide, tonight at the Hi Tone

Check out Clem Snide on The Music Lovers today at 4:00pm cst, then see them live at the Hi Tone at 9:00, $10.00 cover, with David Berkeley, (who is obviously not Marbles, which is who was originally supposed to appear.) By the way, if you don't have a radio in your house to listen to The Music Lovers, sit in your car, for chrissakes. I'd say it's that good. More on last nights Electric Eel Shock later. All I have to say is: Tube socks are the new pants. Now, off to Tupelo to spray random men with body spray. What a life.


I wish the French word for six was something other than "six"

One Red Bull on the way into Memphis, up I-55 and through construction sights. Raining. I thought the members of Swearing at Motorists were homeless guys the band recruited from the parking lot to unload their gear. Two Red Bulls and I tap Jack White on the shoulder, tell him I want to talk to him later and walk away. I change my mind, and never follow through. I thought Enon was an orgasm that happened in the back of my head. Three Red Bulls. No more cigarettes. Almost back into Jack White's car while she's inside chatting him up. I need to remember to wash behind my ears. Why is there a banana in my purse?
Music that loves me tonight:
  • Honeyhander
  • Deerhoof
  • Xiu Xiu
  • 3.22.2005

    Adidas 1 Commercial Scores Bonus Points with Soundtrack

    Collaboration between Squeak E. Clean and Karen O of the Yeah Yeah Yeahs has resulted in a brilliant piece of advertisement success for Adidas new "Smart Shoe". While the song is truly a stunning, gentle sort of masterpiece, the visuals on this ad campaign aren't bad either. Pulled from the mind of Spike Jonze, it's the perfect compliment to Karen O's luscious vocals and between the two components, the clip accomplishes an imagination tickling, ethereal effect which has you hankering for a dream sequence of your own. Unfortunately, the song "Hello Tomorrow" is said to have been created for the ad only and will not appear on the new album the Yeah Yeah Yeahs are presently working on. There are numerous versions of the song floating around right now, but I've got my hands on a four minute version which I love. (Thanks, Adam.) I've also included the 60 second version you'll hear on your TV. One Minute of Brilliance: Hello Tomorrow Four Minutes of Brilliance: Hello Tomorrow See the commercial here. Please Note: Many people have e-mailed me to say that the link to the long version does not work. It DOES. Go to the bottom of the screen to the grid where it says "Choose Download Type" and click on the "Free" button. You may have to wait a few moments before the download becomes available, according to your spot in queue. Then simply click on the link to begin the process. To make this more simple, if anyone wants to host this for me, I'm game.


    Guitar Wolf pre-show, 6-10 pm at Goner!!! If you're going to the Enon show instead of the Deli, tonight, be sure to make the pre-show. At least.


    Glass Houses and Submarines

    poster by Scott ThomasSo, tonight, Bloodthirsty Lovers at the Deli with Noise Choir. It'll probably be a pretty big show, it's gotten crazy publicity this past week. This poster is one designed by Scott Thomas for the Bloodthirsty Lover's 2002 tour, but it's awesome and deserves some more love. Speaking of the Deli, I ran into bartender Johnny at the Grizzlies game today. He filled out a credit card application. Johnny isn't working tonight, he's playing whiffle ball at Zinnie's East, but tip him extra well the next time you see him because he's the nicest bar tender in the world. Also, I'm meeting Miss Mary Pekas tonight, finally, to chat about Project Eurotrash '05. She's already bought her tickets...I need to file my taxes. I hope I don't owe the IRS a lot of money. In completely unrelated news, anyone have a spare bedroom they'd be interested in renting out for a month or two? I'm a great roommate; I won't steal your boyfriend (unless he's just really, really hot,) I won't borrow your favorite dress and spill a Cape Cod down the front of it, I listen to great music at a reasonably respectful decibel level, and I won't use the last roll of toilet paper and not replace it. Yeah, it's like that, I'm a winner. P.S. Anyone wanna help me pimp my website?


    You Can Buy My Love

    So tonight, Augustine plays the Deli with The Glass. I love The Glass, wonderful, wonderful boys and a great sound, but I've seen them three times in as many months and, I dunno. I think I need to quit being such the little groupie. Mouserocket at Murphy's tonight. Tearjerkers with The Haunted Hearts at the Buc. I tried to find more information about the Haunted Hearts but I couldn't, so I don't know what that's all about. I think, if I don't check out Mouserocket I may conserve my resources for the next few nights. It's going to be a busy week, you know, and I'm kinda broke. Tomorrow, Bloodthirsty Lovers with Noise Choir a the Deli. I'm looking forward to this show, I think it'll be pretty badass. I have yet to see a Bloodthirsty Lovers performance, but I hear they're good. The only thing--my friend Lael in NYC, he saw them up there and said "I didn't realize they were all total flamers!" I'm like, "Huh?" I'm trying to picture David Shouse and Steve Selvedge as flamboyant gay men and it's just not happening. I don't know what the hell Lael was talking about, but I guess we'll see. some guitar wolf showThen Monday, it'll either be Enon at the Hi Tone or Guitar Wolf. That's a toss up, for me. I really, really want to see Guitar Wolf and get some pictures, but I'm quite curious about Enon as well, never have seen them. Blah. Who knows. Wednesday, it's DMBQ with Immortal Lee County Killers and Chuck's band, The Oscars. I love Chuck, he's awesome. Maybe he'll put me on the guest list. Thursday, Clem Snide at the Hi Tone. I got introduced to him through Hear Music, too! He just released a new album, The End of Love, which is pretty damn good. He's playing with Marbles for what should be a nice laid back show after the insanity that will be the preceding week. And then it's the weekend again and it starts all over.


    MOTO at the Buc last night was too much trouble. If you haven't seen them, check them out the next time they come through. MOTO plays here as frequently as some of our local bands. That's a good thing. Lots to do tonight, and throughout the rest of the weekend. Get out, have fun. I'm boring today. Work. My dog has fleas; consequently I think I might as well. Gross. I did not die from my stupid accidental DXM overdose, by the way. My heart still feels a little rubbery, though. Sort of floppy between my ribs. Shit's a little touch and go here, I don't know what's going on. Standby, more soon.


    The Cough Medicine Induced Expletives Post

    Hot damn. I took some sort of industrial strength cough syrup; this shit's trying to kill me. I can't feel my toes. I've fallen out of my chair three times. Four. My eyes don't close so very well right now and I can't see because my hands are too wobbly to pop my contacts back in without taking my eyeball out. Shit...I was all excited to take it, looking forward to the side effects and all, but nobody told me the side effects were not being able to blink, heart arthymia, and nausea (which I'm just now getting over.) I'm trippin' hard, and not so much in a good way. In the kind of way where I see crazy little fat men hurling their bodies up against the sides of my skull kind of way. Goddamn motherfucker. I thought that "D" was for D-congestant, but I'm pretty sure somebody slipped me some Drain-O in that little orange bottle. Just for kicks. Just to fuck me up real good...muthafucka. Thanks mom. Sorry 'bout the bad words.


    There is No Modern Romance, not even through rose-tinted aviator sunglasses

    I was not in the mood for much of anything yesterday. I do not like being sick, I do not like associating nice weather with being sick. I do not like the fact that spring time is the only time I care to be in my home town. I don't understand crackheads in the street slurring out expletives when I tell them I have no cash, I don't like looking at long dirty fingernails on old men, I do not care to be stationary or reasonable or rational or mature or any of those things that supposedly makes one worthwhile or a good investment or successful. I spent the afternoon trying to avoid coughing up lugies on credit card applications. I went to that show at the Deli and was enjoying myself to a reasonable degree until Matt called and made an ass of himself and pissed me off, a mood that settled and lasted for the duration of the night. Regardless of superfluous former relationship bullshit and slight nausea caused by sinus drainage leaking down into my stomach, that Dirty on Purpose gig ended up making for a kick ass free show. You all suck for not taking my advice and getting off your asses, I don't care if it was Monday. Not only did Dirty on Purpose deliver, true to hearsay, very sharp mid-90's Yo La Tengo-style indie rock, but we got a surprise showing by The Break-Up, a fellow New York band of a decidedly garage pop persuasion. The Brooklyn kick-ball comrades ran into each other at Sun Studios and DoP talked their former adversaries into joining in on the show. The Break-Ups featured another wispy, pretty blonde on keyboards that added a lot of something like nostalgia to the vocals, and though each song felt fairly derivative of some influence or another, the influences were widely varied enough to make it a lot of fun and I really got into them. The short set they played didn't feel like enough. They gave me a CD but when I checked it out, I was disappointed to discover that their sound was a lot more textural and vibrant live than on the recording. To their credit though, the album art kicks ass. You can hear some tracks, including "Dracula" which carries something of a Special's Ghost Town-esque hook, on their MySpace Profile.
    the break-up playing somewhere other than the Deli on a Monday night.
    Anyway, my prediction is that Dirty on Purpose will end up on a Hear Music compilation in the next few years if they stick to their current course. Which is a good thing, as far as I'm concerned, because I love my Hear Music compilations. Please note, in addition to all the other bullshit going on Friday, River City Tanlines and CARE are playing, before the Lost Sounds take off for the European leg of their tour. I don't know what to do Friday. There are four shows that I really would like to see. Note to Memphis bands: You guys all need to get your shit together and make things easier for your fans.


    From the Desk of Rachel v2.0

    So, this past week was actually unusually busy for me, as I may have mentioned. I enjoyed some good entertainment, long hours of mind numbing sports observation, and excellent company on numerous occasions. I'm kind of burned out now. I need to re-charge, by sinuses have gone hay-wire and I can barely speak today because the drainage has turned my throat raw and crusty. I slept for almost 15 hours just because I didn't feel like getting up and doing anything. I flaked on Mary Pekas last night. I was supposed to meet with her so we could discuss how to best snag a Matador. I'm now writing for Scenestars where I will be going by the name Drinkard in order to avoid being confused with the other Rachel (Rachel Hurley), the original Scenestar. I should have my first review up on that within the next two days. Last Sunday, I went to check out Young Agent Jones, David Brookings, and Misha Hercules at Murphy's. I second Rachel's enthusiastic recommendation of Y.A.J., though I've got a date with MOTO at the Buc for St. Paddy's day. Tonight, it's DJ Trent Resonator with Brooklynite darlings Dirty on Purpose at the Deli. You can listen to a few DoP tracks here. Everyone keeps saying mid-90's Yo La Tengo. I'm not sure about that, but that Erika girl is kind of cute and it's a free show, sweetheart. Just to make it clear, those aren't the only reasons I'm looking forward to the show. Also, it's worth noting that the Deli had originally listed Shonen Knife for playing this date, but through whatever unknown circumstances, that show apparently fell through. Though, honestly, I'm not too terribly upset about the change in plans.


    The CUSA Tournament has kicked my ass this week. Primarily because I didn't stop with everything else. Sadly, that meant neglecting this. I kept having little pangs of guilt for not updating. Pathetic. FYI, the championship game with Memphis vs. Louisville was tragic, even to a decidely apathetic on-looker. U of M fans are capable of looking pretty dejected, at times. Whatever, it serves them right. Only, like, 10 them signed up for one of my credit cards. Bastards. Wednesday night I did the Memphis Industrial Goth Night at the Full Moon Club. Badass. Actually, I went straight there after work at like nine or something and sat down with the Flyer and saw the article about the gig. All those guys are so cool! Pretty hot, too. The music was grade A. That's definitely going to be my Wednesday night hang out for a while. Last night after work I hung out briefly with some people that I met Wednesday, then had a short meeting and ended up sitting in the parking lot across the street from the Deli talking on the phone to my ex for two hours. I missed The Limes at the Buc. A-fucking-gain. This is becoming a pattern. They need to start headlining more shows instead of opening. Hmm. If I'm lucky, I'll get done with shit early tonight and catch Bella Sun and Lynn Cardona at Java Cabana before whatever else happens tonight. I've kind of got a hankering to see this Taylor Hollingsworth kid at the Deli. I also hear there's a couple of house parties going down. We'll see. There's a ton of cool shit going on this week and I am flat broke. Such is life. I promise to update my calendar. After a nap.


    Project Eurotrash 2005

    Just a few high lights because I'm feeling guilty for not writing anything. How absurd.
    • I talked to Nelli last night. Cairo is on. I'm meeting her in Vegas late April and she's flying me to Egypt. Sweet.
    • Then I'm meeting Mary, this girl I went to high school with, in Paris. We're going to Barcelona to hook up with Matadors. (We're Hemingway geeks.)
    • I've got long hours today and tomorrow, sitting at a table at the Fed Ex forum. If I hadn't lost my flask, I'd have it in my purse and be making use of the lack of social interaction, because I don't know anyone that would want one of these damn credit cards...
    • Tonight, the whole Andrew Bryant CD Release Party at the Hi Tone. I'll be there, wearing khakis, no less!
    • I've rediscovered the joy of bubblegum. Seriously. I spent the duration of last night blowing bubbles at the Deli with Michael. I decided I get into scandalous conversations far too often and far too loudly.


    Because Charles Bukowski Is Dead

    I don't know. I should be leaving for Greenwood about now, but I'm not going to. Neither khakis nor the US Air Force agree with me, so I'm going to stay right here and not take the Blues Highway to anywhere--tonight, tomorrow, or the day after. I hear muffled voices coming in from the next room over and it makes me wish it hadn't been almost 5 months now since I knew what pillow talk meant. Anyone that knows me knows there's no excuse, aside from my own lengthy list of hang-ups and excuses. I was always good at making up excuses; never was good at believing them. I'm in flux right now which is a perfectly normal situation all things considered, I suppose. But regardless, I find it mildly uncomfortable. Even as I sit here acknowledging that this is no place for my ramblings, here with Bruce Campbell looking on as if I had become in actuality the mad woman we both knew I was beneath the skin all along. La dolce vida is somehow calling, and here I am relying, still, on my Superman quick-change of red lipsticks and sloppy pony tails; awkward conversations with bar tenders I never really knew, the ready light of strangers, and the undeniable power of sex and drugs in my rock and roll world. Here's to you, Memphis. Here's to you, I-55. Here's to the radio that keeps me company when no one else is good enough.


    Craigslist Makes it Easier for ET to Phone Home

    On May 15th, a good portion of Craigslist ads will be available to those currently residing in Outer Space. It appears that Craig has bought the opportunity to send posts into space via technology made available by Deep Space Communications Network in conjunction with the launch of the space shuttle Discovery at Cape Canaveral, FL. To address the question of "why", Craig says "It seemed fitting for craigslist users to be the first to beam internet postings and classified ads into deep space." I'm just afraid we're going to have some major cosmic misunderstanding when some of that shit gets out. You know, Mars Attacks style. Last night The Natural Kicks were rather nice. It was a sound I hadn't heard live in a long time, and I found it agreeable. Illene Markell sang this one great sort of bossanova song that was just fantastic, I have to find out the name of it. Memphis seems to be seriously lacking a regular act with that feel, and it was nice to have a taste of it. Some cute little Israeli guy ran up to me as I was leaving and asked for my number. It reminded me of this Israeli guy that I got in all kinds of trouble with one night in Billburg. We broke into this abandoned public pool facility and we uh...Anyway at the Deli, I ran into Terance and my old partner in crime Ashley Cope met up with me and we went over to the Buc where we drank down a good deal of a bottle of wine in the parking lot. Black Oak Arkansas was playing inside. Didn't like them much, but the good news was that the crackhead lady wasn't hanging out around outside. Tonight, I'll probably stop by Dish again just to see if the whole boring thing was a fluke, which I've been assured it was. Though really, I've got no business going out. I've got an early appointment in Greenville, Mississippi where I will be representing the US Air Force. Don't ask, because all I know is the money's good.


    The Natural Kicks play the Young Avenue Deli tonight for their record release party. I'll be honest, I hadn't even heard of these guys until front man Ron Franklin e-mailed me Tuesday and gave me a heads up about the show, though since then I seem to be seeing them everywhere. Apparently, The Natural Kicks is comprised of Ron Franklin, Jack Yarber, and Ilene Markell, which are key members of some of the best Memphis has to offer, both past and present, including Mouserocket, The Entertainers, The Oblivians, and The Tearjerkers. Since releasing their self-titled debut album at the end of January, The Natural Kicks say they're bringing "British Invasion vs. Chess Records rave-ups to turntables worldwide." Yeah, I'll give that a listen. Also on the bill is Half Staff, featuring Tim Prudhomme and Harlan T. Bobo. Doors at 9:00, $5.00 cover. Saturday you might also check out Snowglobe's welcome home party after their recent US tour. Also on the bill is Chattanooga's only "Real Rock Band", Gold, whom The Chattanooga Pulse calls a "shock to the system" for those caught unawares. Whatever, ok. This is the late show at the Hi Tone, doors at 10:00, $5.00 cover. The Tunnel Clones last night--fantastic, despite some technical difficulties. They've got an amazing energy and are all around a tight act. I danced. I guess that's the sort of beat me and my ghetto booty needed to motivate us. (You know it's getting bad when you refer to your ass as a separate entity.)


    The New Nokia P Phone

    Last night had to have been the weirdest show I've seen in a while. There were all of these fairly attractive boys from Atlanta playing music I just think I don't appreciate much at all. Then what appeared to be The Guacos took control of the stage for a short drunk impromptu set. Then Margaret Dollrod comes out in granny panties like some Bible Beating, panty wearing, rock and roll playing Stevie Nicks with a nice rack and that other dude just looked like a rooster or something because he had all these feathers on around his face and sort of strutted a lot. To make the set even weirder, there were hippie-ish chicks dancing to this set. It was completely inappropriate. But to be fair, they played a really interesting version of Amazing Grace and overall I like their brand of rock 'n' roll. The moon was distracting on the drive home last night. And I did opt to drive home instead of going to the party that was said to be going down at Quinn's house. There were going to be way too many hot boys there. I have to keep myself out of trouble, don't you know. I dropped my phone in the toilet yesterday. I almost left it there, but finally opted to retrieve it. I don't know why, though. I don't think I'll ever be able to put it next to my face, even if it were to start working. I mean, it's infused with pee, now. Pee has germs in it. You talk into phones with your mouth and germs get in your mouth. Obviously. So basically, if you call me and don't hear back from me that's why. Tonight, Tunnel Clones at the Full Moon Club. Free beer before midnight at the Hi Tone. Rock 'n' Roll karaoke after midnight at the Hi Tone. Just so you know, it's my un-birthday too. Buy me a drink. I'm in a foul mood. I need to go get dressed for work. Speaking of which, the entire world is conspiring against me and if there were a less filthy river available to hurl myself into, I may well consider it.


    Forsaking HBO

    Ok, so who's got Showtime? "Fat Actress" starts Monday. I'm coming over. By the way, she is 54. I hope being fat is my only major aesthetic problem at 54.


    If you like that sort of thing...

    Demolition Doll Rod means two hot mostly naked chicks and a not quite-so-hot even more naked guy rocking like mad people at the Buccaneer tomorrow night. More on the Doll Rods here. The nearly nude trio will be joined by some of those sweet Atlanta boys that we saw a few weeks ago in Beat Beat Beat who return this time as members of The Carbonas. And, uh, The Frantic is playing, too. Doors at 9:00, $6.00 cover. Thursday night could be a good night after all. I met with Brown Burnett of MemphisMojo this afternoon. They're based in a swank building over by Joe's Crabshack at the end of Linden. There's some cool stuff going on in there. They're also getting ready to redesign the website, which will be great for navigation and such. I'm looking forward to seeing it; based on some of the other stuff that Conaway Brown's put out, it should be inspiring. Or impressive, at any rate. Now, I have to poop.


    What behooves us.

    I got a check today. I will be able to pay my phone bill. Small victories. I am completely disinterested in almost everything going on this week. Until Friday. Tunnel Clones gig at the Full Moon Club, and then some party thing at the Hi Tone with Rock and Roll Karaoke at midnight. I don't sing, for the record, unless you want to buy me a few drinks and drive me home at the end of the night. It would be worth your while, I assure you. I have an interview with Red Bull tonight. If you've seen me out lately, you've probably noticed I have a minor addiction to the jet fuel-like liquid. This could save me a small fortune, if I get this. Not to mention, fund my trip to wherever I go traipsing off to next. (Isn't that a great word? Traipse? It is.) Last summer there was this little old Cuban pastry chef. Every Thursday after we got off work we would follow her up to the tiny rec room above the employee housing. She would crank up the Salsa music and shake her massive pastry chef ass like there was no tomorrow. She taught us a little, but my memories have faded and my coordination for this type of thing is somewhat lacking, so I've retained nothing of value aside from the gelatinous phenomenon that I observed once a week. The point is this: I'm thinking of beginning Salsa Lessons. Salsa Memphis is gonna' make me a star.