Star Stuff Scallywags

Archive for August, 2010

Chromeo

Wednesday, August 25th, 2010

First off, if there is a super sweet girl named Britt reading this, well  the YYY’s is for you :D

Can we meet again
Meet and meet and meet and meet again
Can you fill the can
If you can feel m
e

Moving on…

Oh Eh Oh, Chromeo! Oh Eh oh, Chromeo! Fuck that ho, its Chromeo!

This is what I sung to my friend,  who was in a tender embrace as Chromeo was about to take the stage.  He didn’t hear, but it didn’t matter, a super-tough, top-gun, security agent had taken matters into his own hands, and tossed the girl out of the venue for being too drunk to put her flip flops back on ( a la drunk guy at Coachella, see clip).


This set up a nice little predicament where he had to make a choice of following the girl, who may or may not had throw up stains on her shirt, out of the venue or staying in. I think we all know the proper answer to this question, but is was articulated very well by a Jennifer I know who said, “Fuck that girl! You don’t know that girl! Its Chromeo!”

And then BAM!  Dave-1 and P-Thugg hit the crowd with the ElectroFunk that sends a shiver down your timber, the ants in you pants, the jones in you bones. The show was bonafide. And that’s’ all I’m going to say about that, I’m not a concert reviewer. In fact, I generally deplore concert reviewers. Especially, when they are describing a show to me, with great enthusiasm,  but not saying anything of substance:

That show changed my life.

What!? Really? How?

It was just so amazing!

Ahh what was amazing?

Just everything, I mean it was just amazing.

I see, so like did you close your eyes and see colors and vibration on love?

Yessss!

Amazing! So what else was amazing?

I mean well the people and the music were really amazing

Sounds A-MAZ-ING!

It was A-MAZ-ING!

So yeah, back to the night–the concert is over and I’m drunk out of my sneakers from the massive shots of Grey Goose the bartender was pouring, walking down Colfax with a lady on each arm, who don‘t even know each other but have both figured out they speak French and our communicating with each other. I really don’t know how this happened, but it did, and my friend is trying to get my attention because well, one is a faux lesbian with a faux hawk and the other is a super indie nerd with a penchant for aggressive crouch grabbing, which could be considered assault. Proof of the crotch grabber:

Friend 1: Dude, those OTHER chicks invited us to an after party.

Me: (singing Chromeo) Every time I’m walking down the street I’m turning around hoping my lady is following me.

Friend 1: Fuck, you’re drunk.

Girl 1: (grabbing my ass) I could ASSassinate you right now!

Me: You would fail.

Girl 2: Do you remember me?

Me: Remember  you?

Girl 2: I smiled at you at Crystal Castles.

Me: Nice.

Girl 2: Tell me about yourself.

Me: Like what?

Girl 2: Like everything.

Me: (singing Chromeo) You’re a needy girl, I can tell when I look at your big brown eyes.

Girl 1: (grabbing me) You have an amazing dick, I am not intimidated by it at all.

Me: What!? Well what you were feeling was my belt, and its in the shape of a gun. So I think that’s pretty intimidating if you ask me.

Just then my friend comes up to me and whispers the code word which we have for situations like this, and it basically means “get it together.” So I take a step back and do my best to sober up. When I come back they have my friend aggressively cornered.

Girl 2: (to my friend) Why won’t you have sex with me?

Friend 1: I have a girlfriend.

Girl 2: (to my other friend) What about you?

Friend 2: I have a fiancé.

Girl 2: What about you?

Me: I have a wife.

Girl 2: You guys fucking suck!

Chromeo – Don’t Turn The Lights On

Chromeo – Fancy Footwork (GT Remix)

YYYS – The Sweets


Endless Summer, Dream Popping, Hipster Howling, Denver Diving, Au Revoir Au Revoir

Friday, August 20th, 2010

angelheaded hipsters burning for the ancient heavenly connection to the starry dynamo in the machinery of night,

who poverty and tatters and hollow-eyed and high sat up smoking in the supernatural darkness of cold-water flats floating across the tops of cities contemplating jazz,

who journeyed to Denver, who died in Denver, who came back to Denver & waited in vain, who watched over Denver & brooded & loned in Denver and finally went away to find out the Time, & now Denver is lonesome for her heroes,

who went out whoring through Colorado in myriad stolen night-cars, N.C., secret hero of these poems, cocksman and Adonis of Denver—joy to the memory of his innumerable lays of girls in empty lots & diner backyards, moviehouses’ rickety rows, on mountaintops in caves or with gaunt waitresses in familiar roadside lonely petticoat upliftings & especially secret gas-station solipsisms of johns, & hometown alleys too.

Know your history. That was from the gentleman in the above picture, Allen Ginsberg, from probably the most well known poem written in the last 75 years, Howl. The above picture hangs on my wall, and on the back is a secret message.  At night, he whispers from the grave, to carry forth with magic, to hold the torch of heroes past and shine bright onto the streets of Denver. The same streets where he fucked Neal Cassady in the mouth, on the corner of 10th and Grant in 1958.

I can honestly say, that all the people in the pictures are genuine treasures, and if you find yourself lucky enough to be  in the company of such persons, your nights will be filled with rare poetry and splendid times.

Below is a video I made last summer, it is my first and only video I have ever made, and I did so using my pink digital camera and some cheap movie maker program. It is my tribute to all things summer. I think I may be the only one I know, who seriously loves dream pop.

Places exist
Just when we need them
And times like this
Just when we need them

I never noticed before
Seems that i was waiting for
If we ignore all the signs
Doesn’t mean there won’t be more

Things are far out
Electric is the air
And farther out
There’s magic everywhere

If we can see
Everything that we could be noticing
And really see we can wake
From the scenes we’re all dreaming

Still Corners – Don’t Fall In Love

Au Revoir Simone – Trace A Line

Endless Summer Part 1

Friday, August 13th, 2010

I, the one who was so righteous about people and their destructiveness, tolerated this friend that was the falsest, most beautiful, most exciting, vicious, and demanding because in her wake she left unicorns and star dust….

Just a not so random thought, half of which was stolen from Hemingway, but he was talking about horse racing, and I am talking about something else, and perhaps, in a weird kismet way, they are similar.

I ended something today, that has already ended time and time again. Only this time, I took the Unicorns and Star Dust with me, and told her they had never existed in the first place.

But now is not the time to loiter on a ghost. It is the middle of August and with a little luck we can yet fall in love to an endless summer. Our nights will be the genesis of wishes. We will sway into soft conviviality. Our attendance will be considered a must for all cosmopolitan dinner parties, and we will make witty  jokes that will go over peoples heads, while we toast our glasses of Riesling, and gulp down strong cocktails full of distilled agave. When we have grown bored, we will attend sweaty wompy shows, and buzz-band indie rockers will sing to us. We will howl into the night and be the best and brightest of a scene of which we always remain in, but never of, and everyone will be envious that we have figured it out.

In the mornings; lawn mowers will hum, pianos will be played, eggs and toast will be had,  the New York Times will be read. We will ride bikes around a lake, blow the dandelions away, and listen to Dream Pop. All the empty seconds of the day will be filled with kisses, and each memory will be a sacred treasure. As the day wanes we will decide to travel. We will travel to a far, far away place, where we must speak with smiles instead of tongues, and the sound of water fills our ears. We will walk around this place and close our eyes. Our minds will fill with a vision of a bright sun. We will feel triumphant and happy. In our breath, we will inhale love and exhale peace, and say to each other, only the things that must be said.

Wish from Still Corners on Vimeo.

Still Corners – Endless Summer