Thighs Wide Shut

•Daniel Johnston
Bang on a Can All-Stars
Legendary Stardust Cowboy
Highline Festival
Highline Ballroom
May 17th

I knew that last night was going to be like no other. It didn’t hurt that it started with David Byrne walking into the same E subway car as me and ended with David Bowie walking right by me as he made his exit from the wonderful new Highline Ballroom venue. As for what transpired in between? Well, if yer one of those people who have to ask, do you call this music? like I did for the first two acts, then you and I were in for a night of a thousand headaches. And by headaches I mean a a triple bill that’s more queer than a three dollar bill, including and limited to a warbling psychobilly cowboy who may have been the name inspiration for Ziggy Stardust, a gaggle of musicians who redefine the word ‘cacophony’ with every single note they poot, and a bipolar pregnant male who may be the bestest and oddest music genius since Brian Wilson

Headahces and earaches aside, that BPM (bipolar preggers male), Daniel Johnston, was the sole reason for my appearance, more out of curiosity than for gettin my rocks off. While I’ll admit that I’m no long time listener, I will now and forever be a lifelong fan of Daniel J’s. To appreciate his music, which is a lot to ask of anyone, you really need to appreciate Daniel and his thumcredible life story. And there’s no better way to get yer learnin’ on than by watching one of the greatestist music docs of all thyme and our pick of Bestest Moooooovie of ’06

Daniel’s set was short, but it was mos certainly sweet. It was more like an experience than a concert, but one worth experiencing for any new or old comer, cept for my gal pal K-Dawg who said that ‘If Daniel Johnston were playing on the street for change, I wouldn’t give him any.‘ Ouch, but at least she was write on about Bang On A Can, who ‘sounded like a middle school orchestra warming up, only they never actually performed– just warmed up.‘

•DJ image, more of dem and review of that show and the Warsaw gig over at Vooklyn Bregan

who do you look like?

Corny Isle’s Siren Music Fest finally gets its acts together. Too bad I’ll be VT bound and gagged, so please play Hipster Bingo w/o me

Mary Jane Watson, like any good woman, washing her man’s drawers, now in ceramic collectible form!

•Debbie Does Dallas (G Rated Version) [LL Gean]

To Do (in 4 years time so there’s no jail time): Cindy Lou Who

Air – Live at Sheppherd’s Bush Empire, London, 11/02/98, including the thumcredible jizzle jazzel that is ‘Tomorrow Never Knows > Sex Boy’ [d]

tokens

NINJA CREPES!

vagina faces [NSFW]

and who knew that a skinny Ricki Lake

could look juss as bangable as Lucy Pinder?

•
Free David Faustino

mos slurptastic noodle advertising mt EVERest and mt rushmore!

80s Mall Arcade Training Tape

Wii VC, try before you buy

amazing sculptures made from Oranges

Charlotte Gainsbourg‘s ‘The Songs That We Sing’ [d]

it’s an awfully awesome early 90’s dance mix (heavy on the awful)

NSFW JO matz that only a watermelon munchin’ Hitler could love

NES Ice Hockey intermission

the sh&tty animated GIF HOF

which does not include, natch…

Air
High Line Festival
Theater at Madison Square Garden
May 10th

Air’s latest jounks, the low-key Pocket Symphony, doesn’t seem to be too popular with the kids and that’s a cryin’ shame battier. I think people tend to forget that the band who made a splash with such funtastic hits as ‘Sexy Boy’ and ‘Kelly Watch The Stars’ (both played last nite, natch), are not a pop band, but an atmospheric one. They set moods with Moogs, and what’s so stinking about it, hispecially since no one does it better than Nicolas Godin and Jean-Benoît Dunckel. Don’t spank me wrong, it’s taken me, the single greatest Air fan (besides maybe the ‘gum), several listenings of PS to fully louvre it, but if you heard these new tunes live (4 in all), you’d agree that they perfectly fit right in with the rest of their back catalog. While last night’s show was right up there in terms of beyond bestness with the two we caught back in the ’04 and the one in the ’01, I always have the same two complaints afterwards: one, it sux that they never play the songs with guest vocals (Jarvis Cocker, Beck, Beth Hirsch), and two, that their set should last at least 10 hours

Love the Air, but want more poppy cock than moody blues?
Czech out Dunckel’s Darkel!

‘At The End of The Sky’ [d|vid]

Love the Air, and want the mood, the pop, and the guest vocals?
Thens you have to seek out French Sleeper of Science/singer Charlotte Gainsbourg’s 5:55, in which our mos flavorite pseudo French gaylords provided the music for!

‘5:55’ [d|vid]

•Air image, more of dem and review over at Snusic Mobbery

28 Weeks Later…
Cillian Murphy’s Law
Trailer

28 Days Later… was a very special movie. Beyond sadly, its sequel is not. It’s not even remotely scary, unless you start thinking about what might have been instead of what has been. Gone from the first go around are the director, the screenwriter, the actors, the excitement, the danger and mos importantly, the fun. Basically the only redeeming aspects of this bigger budgeted sequel are the use of real film stock and the ability to shoot a lot more outdoor empty street scenes, in and around London (I bet the cast and crew loved shooting at dawn every day!). Them zombies aint scary, but vacant metropolises are. Too bad once the zombies take to the streets, you may not want to run from the theater, but to the nearest bed, where zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzs await. I think they woulda been better off taking 28 more weeks to come up with a better sequel, cause this shiz is more like Weak, times 28

Netflex: the biggest hit from Bayside in a decade, 28 Days Slater

Give Her A Hand… Maiden: yesh, dat chick is indeed one of Padmé’s hos, hottie Dormé

Apt MPupil3: Les Doobie Bros‘ not so HICKish ‘Takin’ It To The Streets‘ [d|vid]

John Grisham’s Jizzum (aka Verdict): No So Much Merit And Mos Def No Stinkin Badgers•

Spider-Man 3
Three Times The Smarm
Trailers

After catchin the amazingness of Spidey 2 ‘me was like, dang, #3 is going to be off the meat and coat rack!! If only it includes 3 hours of Kirsten Dunst’s rack‘. Well, even if #3 was a non stop Dunst boob-a-thon, it still couldn’t save it from the mess that it is. I’ve seen my fair shair of messes at the local cinematorium, but none have been as enjoyable as this one was (Venom! James Franco’s love of snowboarding in air AND pie! Peter Parker is more emo than Pete Wentz! Bruce Campbell, with a mustache!)! I won’t even bother comparing/contrasting it to Spidey 1 or 3, but I will with some of the other big budget second sequels. While not even in the same league of LOTR: ROTK, Jedi, Last Crusade, and hell, Escape from the Planet of the Apes, it’s still miles above such beyond forgetabble schlock like Superman III, The Godfather III, Matrix III, Jaws 3-D, X-3, Rocky III, Batman Forever, Austin Powers in Goldmember, and any other round 3 flick where round 1 didn’t even deserve a round 2 in the first place! It’s too early to decide where Spidey 3 should be permanently placed in the second sequel hierarchy, but for the time being, lettuce but it above National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation and one step behind Mad Max Beyond Thunderdome. Spidey may run the box office, but remember, it’s Master Blaster who runs…

And His Amazingly Hot A$$ Friends: it was the early 80s, I not only loved cartoons, but was actually in love with cartoons! Who else out there wouldnta boned Firestar? Probably you Gaylord Perry’s who sweated Iceman and wanted him to cometh all over you!

John Grisham’s Jizzum (aka Verdict): bless this mess with a Jeepers With A Peepers•!•