Tag: Music
Izzy Gold; Kneel Before Zod.
Picture the scene: us, me and you clutching for dear life in the back of some 60 foot love machine called “Izzy’s Fuck Machine,” and the rambunctious clatter of faux but brilliant glamour parading and swooning in front of...
The Grateful Matisyahu.
Leaving the Matisyahu concert, I walked through a bent and broken path of Central Park where an erstwhile businessman sold nitrous oxide balloons to suburban teenagers. This breathless, brainless masses sat on the park benches, oblivious to potential police...
Culture for Camera…
There’s a scene in the seminal movie ‘La Dolce Vita ‘ (directed by Federico Fellini)where the eponymous hero and obvious dilettante Marcello must decide between his love for the jealous girlfriend and the gorgeous star – played by Swedish...
Marie CLAIRE- a focus on the seedier side of life…
Human trafficking and child exploitation is one of the many issues placed on the backburner these days, in the most tepid corner of public consciousness. That said, here comes Redlight Children- a non-profit initiative designed to expose and to identify...
Bud Blacks Aka Euro; Bitches, and all that shit…
In the heart of Bedford-Stuyvesant, things are changing. The Marcy projects look like a work in progress, with concrete and asphalt piled like a catastrophe’s aftermath in the playground and park area. Pharmacies, fresh and new, are springing up...
The RHODES: Barreling down in your school bus…
Last Summer in Washington Square Park, unsuspecting people began to take notice of four lads in white dress shirts and black suspenders playing acoustically. Four part harmonies and many parts flawless rhythm perpetuated the park. With homage to the...
Redefining Punk: TAB comes onto its own…
There’s a moment while you’re watching "TAB the band," blasting out their fusion of glam pop, rock and Rolling Stones collage that you look at yourself, the indie set wildly bopping away, the John Varvatos suits tucked neatly away...
If only Frank Zappa had sounded like Electric Black…
A lot of bands begin their journey haphazardly enough, perhaps inviting a few acquaintances to their first gig and putting up inscrutable fliers here and there. But Electric Black, being Electric Black, went a little further, hitting the streets...
The etiquette of Concert Going…just in case you needed to know.
The Do’s and Don’ts of Concert Etiquette
Concerts make for a good evening even if you are not seeing your favorite band, probably because there are few other times when it’s socially acceptable to dance, jump up and down,...
Hair and Rally. Whatever happened to the idealism?
The line for “Hair” was packed. Just a Sunday afternoon observation. Of course I wasn’t here for the theater show, I was here for something else…
Stretching down the block from the play and wrapping around two corners were suburban...
Valerie Geffner shocks Fixx.
It’s Thursday night, I’m underneath The Mercer awaiting a performance by Valerie Geffner and there is hardly any room to move. Unfortunately, there still was room to breath because some fool made the mistake eating some sort of...
Red Hook or be dammed. After party for BKFW.
The first instance of Fashion Week to be held in the rising borough of Brooklyn was capped off with a similarly-incongruous after-party sponsored in part by our publication (whether by folly or a very clever attempt to achieve the...
Sunday Night Crises with Hipsters.
The Glasslands Gallery has all the expected hallmarks of a Williamsburg absurdist theatre: bikes, stuffed animal heads, vintage appliances, undulating, gender-less masses and assorted ironic accoutrement. My drink tickets were ripped up Uno cards, reminiscent of a by-gone era...
Seasick Mama and Fantastic Nobodies Cast Sails for Berlin
A bit past twilight last Wednesday night, we packed our knapsacks to trek across the East River, along the winding labyrinth paths, and into the warehouse bohemia underground to Glasslands on Kent Street. We joined Seasick Mama and an...
Atarah Valentine.Caught between darkness and lightness.
Coming to watch Atarah Valentine sing is like coming to watch theater. A Chekhov production with pathos, unrequited love, whirling vignettes, the wailing of a cello, synthesized drum beats and the angelic voice that crushes you after he takes...
