Monday, April 27, 2009

my weekend and a monday

Ah, the depths I've plumbed, the heights I've scaled and I can't feel the difference! I'll decide on a path, one to the bar and the word processor the other back to the moving sidewalk of humiliation. I'll probably just stare at my laptop instead of either.

Today I chased down Pinky from TVCarnage in the middle of the street, he was on his bike and a throng of uniformed kids on a class field trip was passing between us. I said, "Hey man, I'm Matt, sorry to do this but I'm having the worst day of my life, just got turned down from two jobs this morning, I can't catch a break, What should I do with my life?"

He rocked back and forth on his bmx, in the middle of the intersection of Graham Ave and Grand Street in 85 degree sun, sighed. "Send me an email, I'll see what I can do."

Then I went into a bar around the corner from my apartment to get a $1 pitcher of beer and started talking to a couple kids. One of them started talking about Southern California and how great it is, I asked him what he's doing in town and he said he's on tour. I asked what band he's in, turns out he is Wavves. The other kid is also in a band. Had a pretty boring conversation with them, though they were nice guys. Then their friend Matt came by and joined the table, ordered a pitcher, and I asked him the name of his band. He said Blank Dogs. He asked me what I do. I said I live in the apartment behind the backyard of this bar and tried to pretend like I'm a writer. They asked me what I'm writing.

Friday, April 10, 2009

KB goblinz

Home of The Infamous Kooter Brown, dunnny

Rated 5 out of 5 P's

Sunday, April 05, 2009

walking, a pale toxic shell

The above is a poster for a Melvins show.

I've been listening to The Idiot album by Iggy Pop almost non-stop over the past week (sometimes Lust For Life if I'm in a good mood) and UGK, whose last album ever came out this week. It's put me in a very odd, contemplative mood and I've prepared a lot of notes for a future journal I intend to write inspired by listening to the album on a never-ending loop and wandering aimlessly around the West Village. I'm convinced that it is the greatest album in recorded history but that's not something I have any business writing about. I'm thinking about starting a band based around a couple friends of ours that look like rock stars. I haven't played guitar seriously since high school and every time I pick one up it sounds like a jam band, a problem that I would need to resolve if this were to ever actually happen.