This is the view from the “cheap seats” at Joe’s Pub? No complaints ! The new band, WPA, shows their sound…
That’s what I’m talking about, NY! Finally, we set the stage for so mething cool…
The hilarious all-metal Bee Gees cover band, Tragedy, rocks none other than Governor’s Island with their brilliant music mash-up.
Yes, I said the Bee Gees — they are like Jack Black covering the Bee Gees. Nothing rocks more than walking off the boat at Governor’s Island to find your ears being pierced by New York’s own “No. 1 heavy metal tribute to the Bee Gees in the Tri-State area.”
At first I rolled my eyes… and then, I giggled. With a style that will find you trying not to laugh, and then laughing quite delightedly, even the music falls on deaf ears, you will laugh for no other reason than thinking, “Wait, are they wearing silver glitter pants?” Yes, indeed they are.
It was free. It was fun. It was ridiculous. For a decidedly “captive audience,” Tragedy had me cracking up and enjoying a Sunday afternoon at New York’s newest Water Taxi park. Well done, gals and gents. I may have come down with a case of night fever.
Express trains zooming past local stops have got to do wonders for magazine circulation numbers
The wall street bull could file harassment complaints against countries everywhere for the number of times its parts are groped daily by all our visiting tourists. Just think if it were a live animal. ;)
Brooklyn wears retro well: Ice shavings the sweet old-fashioned way, with People’s Pops
There is a turkey that lives in Manhattan. Her name is Zelda. We di dn’t believe it either…but there she is
The coolest
Ok, a little late on the turnaround here, BUT I wanted to share two highlights from the Brooklyn Renegade Craft Fair.
1- PrettyTheory.com — Her name is Cricket and she makes beautiful little pretty things. Lots of them. Specifically, she takes old, rustic hardcover books transforms them into dainty, brilliant handbags. The librarian in all of us will coo. And even if you don’t love handbags (ahem, gents), you will be wowed by the craftsmanship of this very crafty — and classy — work.
2 — Modati.com — I won’t lie, the Craft Fair was chock full of graphic t-shirts. What overdone pottery is to most craft fairs, screen printing will soon be to our generation. But Modati took innovation and turned craft time on its head. This, my dears, is what would happen if Hypercolor were cool instead of awkward: a shirt whose design changes based on the heat and light to which it is exposed. This shirt grows grass, or glows goblins, depending on whether you are in light or dark. (In the shade or regular light, it appears as pictured.) I saw the grass grow before my eyes, and was floored. Well played, Modati, very well played.
I ended up leaving the Fair with several purchases and a deepened affinity for the craftmanship and community of BK artisans. And of all of them, these two took the cake.
Pinky swear
A girl just asked me if I was drunk. She aplologized when I said “no.” I wasn’t; it’s the first time I’ve been rested in weeks. And it’s only 11pm — early for New York. I was proud of her group of friends, beautifully drunk as you should be on a summer Saturday night. They look awesome, ready to flirt with anything -s they flirt shamelessly at the 60 pound mutt as we exit the elevator. I don’t mean that as a descriptor, it was a dog. An adorable, dumb brown mutt, happy to be pet by anyone that knows that a steak bone goes well as a chaser for all the appropriate affection. Which we all knew, of course, hence the mutual love. Before the doors opened, the girl had asked me to pinkie swear to her that I would be drunk by the end of the night. Her friends interrupted a pinkie is the wrong vow to break and I agreed that promise was one I did not seek to have to keep. As we left the mutt and lobby and they stumbled sexily into the soon-to-be adulterated evening, I could see they were going to uphold their unspoken promises: to be wild, 25 and seductively coyly short of wreckless. I walked off to hail a cab to a non-hungover eve in Brooklyn, assured the city would have enough estrogen to cover for me for the night. Sober, I leave the Island and promise to return tomorrow.
I just saw a guy walking down the street with a light saber.
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