When I write a book about my experiences in the NY indie rock scene (and you know one day I'm going to need to write SOMETHING to pay the rent), I believe that there's going to be an entire chapter about chauvinism. I've even thought of a title for that chapter. It's: "My Status Quo is Threatened When You're a Chick: Or, No One Thinks You're Pretty When You Think." It's going to be wonderful. I'd tell you what it's about, but that's like giving it away for free. Like everyone else, you're going to pony up the $14.99 on amazon.com. Speaking of books, I picked up "King Dork" by Frank Portman when I was in Hoboken this week. I've only gotten through the first 35 pages so far (after you spend 9 and a half hours staring at magazine copy and tiny little writing on scientific reports, you don't really feel like reading--you feel like watching The Office and sighing a lot), but it's a really easy read, both because it's written from the point of view of a 14 year old boy, but it's also really good. The description of his public high school is...uncanny? Check it out: "AP classes are like a different world. You don't have to do anything at all, not a single blessed thing but show up, and you always get an A no matter what. Well, you end up making a lot of collages, and dressing in costumes and putting on irrtating little skits, but that's about it...AP social studies is just like normal social studies, except the assignments are easier and you get to watch movies." I'm sure it's been said, but: it sounds like he went to my high school. It's going to be good.
Despite the rain, James and I made it out to the Syrup Room last night, partially because a trip to the Syrup Room is always a welcome diversion from summer replacement television programming on a Thursday night, and also because it was supposed to be a good show, and Thursday is the new Friday, etc. It was a good show, as it turned out, although we left after Tokyo Police Club. The Ballet was okay, although a little out of sorts due to the departure of their cellist (harder to replace than I'm sure I can guess). Ramesh from Voxtrot played a handful of songs on his guitar, which was a nice little surprise--although the rest of Voxtrot apparently punked out on joining him on stage for some much-needed noise. I say that because it was hot as balls, humid, and I needed some drums or something to wake me up. And the Tokyo Police Club was happy to oblige--it was just what I was looking for to forget the sweaty garage and rock.
But then James has to work (sucker!), so we left--and it's going to be a long night tonight. Rena's coming in from Pittsburgh, and then we're going to see Voxtrot play at Prospect Park. After that, I'll probably have to jet before Matt Pond PA and TV on the Radio, because I have my Lansing-Dreiden ticket and I'm pretty fucking pumped for some multimedia art school circusry. And because I can't pass up a party at Asterisk, we'll all meet up in scenic Bushwick to see CEX. With an album title like "Actual Fucking", how could you go wrong?