New blog!

O hai I got a new blog! At first I was seriously lusting this one, you know, 'cos I thought it was really fun, hip, funny, and hippie, but it's kind of boring, no? So I made a new one, a funnier, hipper one, specifically this one. It's off the chain. Trust.

Try it, you'll like it. But come here for the music, show updates, and slightly highbrow-ness in and around Atlanta. It's...AWEsome! Totes!

xoxo Gossip Girl-er...sorry,

Your electric bird,
Erika

Underrated Revisited: Cavil At Rest

Sometimes great bands get overlooked. You know, like how your parents paid more attention to your gorgeous, honor roll making sister than they did you. This section of the blogosphere is devoted to those bands who never really got their due years past...

Cavil At Rest


In the wake of spring 2007, mid March, a video premiered on MTV2's famous Subterranean. In the video, presented like a puppet show, a felt curtain parted and five cardboard musicians began playing pop music.

Cavil at Rest is a five piece group of especially handsome boys from Orange County, CA. The lead singer has an afro (and he's adorable), but what should really get you to like them should be their relatable lyrics and dance-y pop beats. If, perhaps, an archetypal 90s boy band could learn to play the guitar then maybe Cavil at Rest would have never happened. Alas, they didn't, and CaR broke the barrier between pop and rock music.

Few bands before them could rock out and sing in perfect harmony simultaneously (and still retain their severe indie cred), thus Cavil at Rest were both trendsetters and trailblazers. On their first album, Orion Way, Cavil at Rest began to explore just how deep they could take pop music before it became kitschy. They also took advantage of their "on-the-cusp" sound to develop their music into something typically viewed as "Top 40."

The acoustic single, "We Could Love," creates a Hellogoodbye type melody, while backup vocals and tinkling pianos push it close to Augustana. On "Who's There?", the boys make hyped-up, energetic pop reflective with the lyrics, "And I feel I idealize you to death/Dare I speak/Dare I speak/And I am weary under the weight of all the things I could say."

As with many bands that create a new genre of music, Cavil At Rest gained a very loyal Californian fan following, but even after the positive reception of their video on Subterranean, they never really became as popular as they should've, making them one of the most underrated bands of early '07. Orion Way was released under Chop Chop Music, and CaR continues to be unsigned to a record label.

Cavil at Rest site here.
Album available here.

cavil at rest: "who's there?"
cavil at rest: "we could love"


"Who's There?"



Your electric bird,
Erika

Underrated Revisited: The A-Sides

Sometimes great bands get overlooked. You know, like how your parents paid more attention to your gorgeous, honor roll making sister than they did you. This section of the blogosphere is devoted to those bands who never really got their due years past...

The A-Sides


If you live/lived in the city of Atlanta or its perimeter, and listened to 99x on Sunday nights from 8 - 10:oo pm, then you might recognize this band.

The A-Sides are 5 piece band from Philly, US, that make a niche brand of pop music; specifically one that recalls the power of a pop band, the calmness of a folk band, the sensibilities of modern musicians, the lyrics of Joie Blaney, and the ethereal-ness of Band Of Horses. They, in fact, put the "Brotherly Love" in "The City Of Brotherly Love." Along with Social Studies, they were probably one of the most underrated acts of '07.

On their second full length (but first on Vagrant Records, also home to Dashboard Confessional, Murder By Death, and Thrice), Silver Storms, the band harnesses frontman Jon Barthmus' calming voice and their "soft-when-it-needs-to-be-heavy-when -it-needs-to-be" noise to mold a crisp, cool landscape of sound. From tracks like "We're The Trees," with its dance-able harmonies on a sturdily built pop foundation, to ""Diamonds," a slow moving track that chugs along and climaxes 6 minutes later, Silver Storms is that perfect mix of reflective lyrics and smooth melodies with a sprinkling of snow and fairy dust.

Album available here.
The A-Sides site here.

the a-sides: "we're the trees"
the a-sides: "cinematic"

Your electric bird,
Erika

When I Was Fourteen...

I had two diaries.

I thought Reese Witherspoon could run for president

All of my clothes came from the Charlotte Russe clearance racks and Old Navy

My allowance was 10.00 a week

My friends and I had a collective Myspace that only we would comment on

All of my lip gloss had sparkles in it

I hung out with high school seniors

I finally got my braces off

I seriously considered taking high school online

Looks like there's a reason the past shouldn't be revisited.

New music to your right!

Your (adult) electric bird,
Erika

Stop Pretending

The year is 1983. The scene: in the wake of poppy, glossy, girl bands with crimped hair, electric eyeshadow, and cowboy boots, a gaggle of badass chicks with a penchant for 60s psychedelia, style for days, and too much attitude to bottle straight up killed the paradigm of innocent chicks with Fenders. They were the Pandoras, and, in a way, they were the predecessors of the Donnas. With spunk like the girl garage band successors Thee Headcoatees (and, more recently, the Coathangers) and guitar shred-ability like the Gore Gore Girls, the Pandoras were the epitome of the kind of "fuck you" attitude that spawned abso fabso frontwomen like Karen O, Jemina Pearl, and Beth Ditto.


(The Pandoras circa '85. Walking Urban Outfitters poster children.)

The 1986 LP, Stop Pretending (via thee head vein), recorded with frontwoman Paula Pierce, but with a new band, is an amazing blend of 60's surf rock and 80's pop that makes you want to simultaneously jump on your bed with a hairbrush microphone and slip into a leather jacket and smoke a cigarette.

Muh-Hollaaand!

Your electric bird,
Erika

Ohai Survey!

I don't know what a meme is (and nope, I'm not bothering to find the meaning of it) but whatever it is, I guess it's like a survey. Or something. But I found a popular one on the internet and since a) I don't know what else to talk about besides myself, and b) no one reads this shit anyway, I thought I would fill it out. You know, to make me sound kind of interesting or something.

My Foundation: Don't wear any. But if I abso have to, it's MAC Studio Fix. Apply that shit with a blush brush instead of the sponge pad and it'll last you all day.
My Mascara: L'Oreal Panoramic Curl. It's a bit craptastic, but I love how black it is.
My Blush: MAC blush in Blushbaby
My Eye Shadow: I don't wear eyeshadow, but when I do it's this plum-y color I bought back when I was in middle school. The container is like nondescript. I think it's probably N.Y.C. since that's all I could afford.
My Day Cream: Oil Of Olay, the dry skin version. Which is kind of weird 'cos my skin's sort of oily but I keep buying the dry skin one.
My Lipstick: MAC lipstick in Brick. Or Maybelline lipstick in Nude Blush. It just depends on how much I care about my appearance that day.
My Beauty Product Brand: Rimmel London. It will make you look like Kate Moss, no lie.
My Essential Beauty Product: Eyeliner. Everyday, two colors: navy on the bottom lid and emerald on the top.
My Favorite Makeup Product: Makeup removing sponges. I use mine to smudge my eyeliner.
My Perfume: Princess by Vera Wang, or for special occasions, Burberry Brit.
My Nails: (I'm assuming this means polish, since only anal people use nail cream) Nothing. Ever since middle school, my piano teacher didn't let me paint my nails and now I'm just used to it.
My Feet: N.Y.C. Taxi Cab. Yellow on tan skin is fabbbb!
My Hands: Cetaphil. Yep, just Cetaphil.
Three Products to bring on a Deserted Island: Eyeliner, blush, and Chapstick!
Woman I admire for her beauty: Twiggy...her eyes were gorgeousie!
Woman with the Best Sense of Style: Charlotte Gainsbourg. Everything she wears, no matter what it is, looks tailored for her style. Also Basia Bulat because she looks like an APC advert all the time.
My Ultimate Dream: To become completely content with my life.
How Do I Define Womanhood: Confidence.
My Favorite Fashion Publication: Missbehave!

Your (fresh faced) electric bird,
Erika

You Wanna Be On Top?

Tyra Banks: Delusional headcase or entrepreneurial and marketing mastermind?

You be the judge.
(Also this is to distract from the fact that I don't really have anything else to write and this question has been mulling around in my head after watching seven seasons of ANTM)

Your electric bird,
Erika

Target Rips Itself Off: Makes Worse Clothing Than Before

Ohai tackity tack tack capsule collection from Target! We all saw the fledgling beginnings of this possibly good idea: Erin Fetherston for Target was kind of cute...I guess...Proenza Schouler was awesome, as was Luella Bartley, so obvi Target is a bit hit (Jovovich-Hawk, Libertine) and miss (Patrick Robinson, Alice Temperly). But this time Target's done the (inevitable) unthinkable: they've ripped themselves off. Presenting Target's Go! International for Target. Yeah, it totally sounds like Kevin Drew titled the collection, but don't be fooled, this collection is red hot (not!)! It's full of geometric prints, colorblock shifts, and straight up asymmetrical madness! Shit is going down!

The funniest thing about this whole shabang is the fact that their home/domestic collection is more fug than the Mossimo bullshit they keep pimping out season after season. Everything is just sooooo...tack tack tack it up! It's almost like the design team of Target consists of Hannah Montana loving 13 year olds and 17 year olds with two credits from Home Ec. No lie.

It's currently clogging up the fluorescent lit aisle ways of the Big Red Bulls-Eye and prolly will be until Target finds some other designer to force a collabo with. I'm thinking Sean John...maybe a "No Bitch-Asses" on a pre-shrunk cotton shirt for 15.99 hanging up next to the neon green "Frankie Says Relax" tee? Just a thought...

Your electric bird,
Erika

See Vampire Weekend Before The Douchey Hipster You Met At The Bar Starts Buying Their Shit!

Yeah, it was all kind of going downhill once MTV got a hold of them, but for the better aspect of this whole thing, Vampire Weekend is still, by definition (mostly), an indie band. Of course, they are on the radio, but I think Indie 103.1 kind of makes it okay.

If they aren't just the cutest little aspiring English professors!

So let's say you're a die-hard VW fan. You stuck by them when "A-Punk" was on MTV and they appeared on SNL, and were even brave and loyal enough to defend them when the haters started their shit talking post their appearance on Jimmy Kimmel...with that band or whatever. You deserve to have complete rights to the band whose nurturing you personally had a hand in. YOU bought the album (back when it was still a preorder on Amazon, too!), commented on all the VW articles, made sure to only reveal your little Brooklyn gems to a select amount of people (whom you knew would really care about Vampire Weekend), and even turned a deaf ear (and blind eye) to their little stint of self-pimping. And you'll be damned if you attend their show and attempt to mosh during "Cape Cod Kwassa Kwassa" amidst a gaggle of hormonally confused preteen hoes and American Apparel-styled hipster douches that would rather sip their Pabst and appear chill behind their Ray Bans than enjoy the music!

Well there's hope, and it doesn't come in the form of a support group. Vampire Weekend is coming to Atlanta, and since the masses (87%) of us aren't douche-holes that care more about status than happiness, it can almost be assured that the aforementioned scenario shan't occur.

In retrospect, this was a lot to write about a Vampire Weekend performance, but a true fan will appreciate. Trust.

Vampire Weekend at the Variety Playhouse on June 11 at 8:30 pm. Tickets can be bought here, or at the box office in front of the Playhouse.

vampire weekend - "cape cod kwassa kwassa"
vampire weekend - "oxford comma"

Violet stars happy hunting!

Your electric bird,
Erika

Employment...Is Hard

I need a job! Really! Normally, I'd stick it out with this job search but it isn't getting any easier. Or brighter, for that matter. I've flagged down about 5 possible jobs on Craiglist and applied to three companies already...but I need money! Cute clothing and pinup girl tattoos don't fund themselves, y'know?

Honestly, I was perfectly fine with my internship position at 99x under Elliott, but then the whole station just folded like a scene out of some bad Lifetime daytime movie and I was left without anything. It was an unpaid internship, so I had no money to hoard in my bank account back then.

I am sooo good at like tons of things but the fact that I'm seventeen for another month means a whole lot of opportunities that will be denied to me...and subsequently will no longer be available once I am.

The obvious answer to my employment (or lack thereof) conundrum is the mall. Yes, it's full of students, part-time-ness, and food courts, but I worked in the mall for 6 months and at the end of it vowed to never set foot in the back room of a mall boutique again.

I'm trying to remain optimistic but this whole "being funded by my mother" thing will never sit right with me. I pride myself on being independent and like very much to make my own money, take care of my shit for myself.

With my jet-setting the fuck out of here to CSUN looming in the back of my head, my window of opportunity for finding a decent job where I can make a good amount of money in a fairly short time (3 months) is slowly closing. I feel like given the chance I could really do well at whatever I set my mind (and paycheck) to, but I just don't have that foot in the door.

Gawd, 18+ jobs are overrated. Just let me waitress now. Promise I won't sneak the booze. Pinky swear. I'd be a great (paid) intern. Just ask my old boss. Professional blogger/writer/
contributor? Dude, my major is magazine journalism. Radio DJ? I interned at a radio station!

Just call...please...I've got the skills, and I'll lie on the application and tax forms. I can be 18 now...or even 21! I'm flexible!

So...so...poor...

Your (broke as a joke) electric bird,
Erika

I Iz On Missbehave.com!

OMG I'm on Ask Missbehave! I'm awesome! Pretty much everyone is telling me that I should get out of my current relationship before I a) kill my boo and catch a crazy Fed case, or b) fall in super love and find it impossible to get out (oh no!). I'm still caught in a confused state of crazy pants-ness. You should see me on there. Well, not me, porque my pic's not above the email but they got this cool drag-alicious queen bitch (no threat to you Miss Wintour), and it's for totally awesome.


more cat pictures

I iz the bomb. Whoa. Too much Lolcats for myz own good.

Your electric bird,
Erika

Does It? I Guess It Does...

New episode of the Bad Girl's Club tonight! Normally, I'd be more excited but it's the 1st half of a two part finale thing and I'm kinda sad that I won't get to see my 5 fave bitches anymore...and just when I started to really like Tanisha. Homegirl suddenly got really...tolerant. I liked it. And Darlen was always cool to me...then she made Tanisha catch a case at the club by fighting, but shit can that girl scrap. Neveen's still kind of evil though...


Oh well. Oxygen's not stupid. There will be more seasons until the public tires of them...and then they'll sell the Bad Girl's Club to E! So everyone wins!

In other, obscenely exciting news, I am going through my old school music phase (again). In honor of that, I posted up some retro-licious tracks in the music section. Not all of them are actually from the 60s and 70s...but it doesn't hurt that they sound like they are. A few of the tracks came from the fantastic 50s and 60s garage rock haven, but most of my really great vintage music comes from this outrageous little site. Oh, and you like surf rock and rockabilly? Then listen to this on WRAS 88.5.

Tanisha (post cardio exercise class): "I am getting signals from muscles I never knew existed. I feel like the whole of Brooklyn just jumped me."

Priceless!

Your electric bird,
Erika

Hello? Do You Have Thom Yorke In A Basement?

Okay, yesterday night, around midnight, I was still wide awake (a Coke, two slices of Domino's pizza, a cup of cran-pom juice, a bag of M&Ms and a Fat Boy will do that to you) and flipping listlessly through the channels when I landed on vh1 and guess what I saw?

Radiohead's In Rainbows From the Basement.

All the commercials about it had been saying it premiered at 0:00:00 AM which meant absolutely nothing at the time. But when the clock hit midnight, I got it. Very clever, vh1. I will give you that one.

But oh man, it was wicked rad! Except for the occasional time when Mr. Yorke got so into the music that he started swaying and tossing his arms to and fro - a time when someone should've reminded him that he wasn't at a Cypress Hill concert. But aside from that, it was all that and a bag of Chips Ahoy! I really enjoyed it.

I don't know if it'll come on again, for all you sad souls that missed it, but vh1 has a habit of repeatedly beating it's audience over the head with its programming, so...who knows?

My favorite track from In Rainbows, (aside from "Weird Fishes/Arpeggi"): "Reckoner"


video.vh1.com

Blast that shit!

Your electric bird,
Erika

Things What Make Me Happy This Week: Step It Up & Dance, Bravo In General, Fridickulous Pickup Lines

So I might be addicted to television. But it's a baby addiction, like when you don't have to have meth everyday but a hit or two sure makes the day a lot better. It used to be worse; I used to hate going on family trips or to hotels without cable 'cos I loved the telly so much. Isn't it cute how I tossed that little British-ism in there? I'm a fecking genius.

Anyhoo...for some reason (perhaps suspected brain damage from when I hit my head on that big flower pot as a kid), I am really digging Bravo, the television channel. At first (when K-Griff's reality show hit the air) I was a little "ehhh" about Bravo. But then it's like someone hit the Bravo execs with some kind of common sense stick! They took Queer Eye off the air! There was Project Runway, Shear Genius, Top Chef...and now Real Housewives of the OC and NYC! (With an ATL spinoff in the making!) It almost can't get any better! Now I less than symbol three Bravo so bad...well, let's just say if I could've found it a tux, I wouldn't taken that bastard to prom.

And for some really weird reason, B-Vo's been straight killing it this week with their programming.

Normally I hate dance-themed reality shows, you know, like So You Think You Can Dance? or Dancing With The Stars. Also, I normally hate things involving Elizabeth Berkeley. (Saved By The Bell was nothing, btw, without Lark Voorhies.)

So you can imagine my innate veneration for Showgirls. Oh, and this new B-Vo show Step It Up & Dance. It's like about these (crappy) totally dedicated dancers that go on this show to tell the world! just how (bad) serious they are about dancing. They do (stupid) totally realistic challenges like going on (lame) AWEsome auditions, learn (MC Skat Kat kind of shitty) innovative choreography, and even battle each other with (retarded) completely sweet moves! It's electric! As it turns out, Berkeley (you know, not actually having danced) is even less useless than Padma Lakshmi (TC Hot-tay!). She just calls the kids, tells them to leave, pretty much makes the position of show-host seem as simple as spotting the fallacy of Wheel Of Fortune. Freaking conspiracy! But the best part of this show is that the dancers seem like they don't mind being satires of themselves. The show, actually, is like a satire of the world of dance. It's fab!

Anyway, there's this uber-creepy McCreepy pants dude on there who's always telling the dancers how to dance (btw he can't) and wearing weird on the verge of pilling knitwear sweaters. One time he danced and I think an angel lost its wings. Oh, and somewhere, a little girl got some platform sandals. Needless to say, homeboy brings all kind of evil into this world.
There was this contestant/dancer on the come up called Oscar. He's Italian, trained in music theatre, and fully better than anyone else (in the world and on the show). I will props him on his style choices...but that's where it begins and ends. He's super hilariously removed from the real world outside of dancing...or was, till he got voted off for the musical theatre challenge. Haha! Irocany is sweet...

Anyway, Step It Up & Dance comes on Bravo on Thursday nights at 10 pm. Bask in the limelight.

Oh yeah! And I totally heard the worst pickup line of my life today while I was on Forsyth and Marietta St. I was walking to DOTS (not my first mistake of the day, sadly) when this guy said to me, "Hi love, can I ask you a question?" I rolled my eyes and said, "What?" And he was like, "Can we go to the movies tonight?" Like, GAWWWDDD!

I said no.

Your electric bird,
Erika

This Ish Is Justice!

Okay so, ever since homeboy went sample crazy on just about every album he's done, we've all known that Kanye West knows what's up (musically, of course, since his views on Bush are another story). What is very up (sky-high in fact) is that 'Ye and Justice, the feisty French discotheque duo (which I lurve, btw. Gaspard, forget the age difference! I'll still wed thee! Don't French people just drink wine to live immortally anyway? We share the same fountain of youth!) are tag-teaming for some outta this world shit. Oh yeah, and plus they've got that more-dope-than-the-shit-your- dealer-gives-you clothing line that costs an arm, leg, and torso to cop.


But this time, oh this time, 'Ye, Justice, and the sure to be a global supastah! director Romain-Gavras have sacrificed the right virgin because the gods have blessed the world with a sickly killer video for "Stress." If you don't know that song, a) you're not a real Justice fan, and b) don't feel bad. It's at the end of the album, past the club bangers and "D.A.N.C.E." Don't front. You know that's why you bought the record...

Anyway, this video features angry adolescents, a lawless city, some Parisian references, a shaky camera hand, and a subway (or, how I'm pretty sure they say in Paris, metro) station.

So...it's kind of like if Death Wish and Cloverfield had a super wicked HD baby, with bangin' jackets and an ironically ironic hate of "D.A.N.C.E."

Thanks Kanye!

justice stress (official video)
by 75_prod

Your electric bird,
Erika

I Missed The Boat

Ugh, you and I both, Modest Mouse. You and I both. So if you're reading this and find yourself in need of a little backstory, I can help you out.

Missbehave Magazine, the holy grail/sacrilegious shrine of women's mags and badassery is holding this contest-y thing. I read a post about it awhile back but was all like, "Pssshhh. Okay." And I said it (mentally) in this really douchebag-gy mocking voice. I'm not proud of it, okay? But then I read some way later posts (in lieu of studying for my European History exam) and suddenly I felt like the douchebag from Split Ends.

Turns out MissBH (my new abbrev for the fabulousness) needed some more contributors and they were looking for rad chicks to come guest blog some shit! Just the kind of thing I would j'adore seeing as I read MissBH religiously and completely know how to speak and write awesomely. (And sometimes I can do both, but I have to have a clear head for that, which doesn't happen a lot.) The point is, instead of sitting here wasting my education and eating all my Bazooka bubblegum (shit...all gone, nevermind) I could be chitchatting with the best and brightest bitches on the coast. But when opportunity knocked, what did I do? Toss it like a salad. And now I'll have to sit in sad regret/tragic rue-ance while some American Apparel chick with lens-less glasses, suspenders, and a pair of Toms gets to half-assedly write about some less-than-sweet shit just 'cos she beat me to the jump.

Life is unfair. I'm gonna go paint or something. Hey, maybe I can get all angsty like that Juno girl and people might suddenly find my sarcasm endearing. Okay, maybe not. Shit.

By the way, if you need to fully understand the merits of lensless glasses, um, Dominic Andrews can help you out. Actually, he can also tell you other meaningless shit on his little Stickam thingy. Sometimes the internet is scary.



Your electric bird,
Erika

I'm A Jealous Woman

Okay, so since I'm a complete advocate of modern, AWEsome music (Crystal Castles, Pissed Jeans, The National, i.e. bands that sound like the 21st century), it's probably expected of me to ONLY like those kinds of groups. I mean, yeah, I go see Be Your Own Pet and Arctic Monkeys and Club Awesome and Someone Still Loves You Boris Yeltsin because the oldies and greats don't go on tours with 15.00 tickets, y'know? K good.

So with that said, I do also love music from the 60's-80's. I'm a huge sucker for retro girl groups and female singers like the Pleasure Seekers, Suzy Clark, Sunforest, etc. I also really love the Ramones and the Buzzcocks and other fabbity fab bands from "back when."

But never have I had so much lust/un-godly love for one song as much as this one.

The woman: Gunilla Thorn, a Scandinavian goddess with a cheeky smirk and a weird chin. This woman was a straight powerhouse of soul and feeling. Homegirl was a bad motherfucka, ladies and gentleman.

The song: "Jealous Woman" It was released in 1966 on the Jealous Woman/Our Love single and then sent into obscurity. But this song, my god, has so much passion and AWEsomeness to it; it's hard to not feel the fierceness that's just emanating from this woman. It's mad decent!

I can't post it on here because the song is nowhere to be found, both bit-rate-wise and physical vinyl-wise. I even scoured eBay for the album...the thing is tooo obscure to be found. Among searches on Yahoo! I've found some random links in languages I don't speak and a couple of references to Joe Meeks, who was Thorn's producer for a bit. She's on some compilations, but none with that song. As it actually turns out, from a bit of heavier digging, "Jealous Woman" can be found on a weirdly obscuro comp that you have to order from a website in Denmark. It's like 129,000 DKK. What currency is that even?

"Jealous Woman" can actually be found here, but this is sort of it.

Anyone know anything about a more domestic solution?

Your electric bird,
Erika

Found One! (Oh, And A Funny Movie To Warm Your Hearts)

O hai! I found one! I found a nifty pic from RSD! (Turns out Criminal had a ton of them - 530 to be exact - on their Flickr) This is one of the photos from the Judi Chicago set. You can see me in the shorts and tights looking incredibly flabbergasted/demoralized. You can also see some other people trying to look bemused and unfazed, but it was merely a facade. Trust.


Now I have a terribly hilarious video from the tragically comical Super Deluxe. And a haiku about Super Deluxe that James from Criminal wrote. BTW, the haiku first, video later. I noticed the order of items was well, out of order.

Do you need something,
like laughter, sadness, strangeness?
Try Super Deluxe.



Your electric bird,
Erika

So You Lost Your Virginty During A Concert, Huh? Typical.

O hai everybody! National Record Store Day was THE BOMB, and completely all that with a bag of Chips Ahoy! If you missed it, well, you have a lot of 'splaining to do! Criminal and Co. were out in full force and there was a ton of pizza (everyone ate it before I could)and hot dogs on the grill (yep, ate all of 'em), so I actually ended up having to buy a slice of pizza from Little 5 Pizza, although I did look supes spiffy wearing pink sunglasses at night. Holla!

The show started with The Bridges, which were, erm, like Au Revoir Simone, but - GASP! - better. And pretty like the Plasticines and skinny like Jemina Pearl. They were AWEsome, if I do say so myself. It was almost an all girl band, but, typical, a dude was on the skins...sigh...

So there was some haziness afterward while I shopped the sidewalk sale (and totally copped a Niko album for 2 dollars) and then bought a mag to peruse while sitting alone (yes, like a sad loner kid I went to the festivities solo...fug) and as I must have looked like the bike monitor sitting on the patio above the bike rack at Aurora, Philip from Chainestereo, whom I met once before in the exact same parking lot, wearing the same shirt. spoke to me awhile. All was great until he bid me ado and hung with the older, cooler, beer buying crowd, with whom I can only hope to one day compete.

After some standing/aloofing, I saw Trances Arc (soooo cute!) and Club Awesome, furry white tiger suit and all, then Judi Chicago, topless karate suits and all. Dude's British. Anyone know that?

So after killing an hour and losing my parking space, I hightailed it back to Criminal to run into Elliott from Sunday School, my old boss, and then watch my girls the Coathangers go on. As usual, they recognized me from my shirt, and Stephanie for totally signed my drumstick. Porque? 'Cos we're like totally like peanut butter and jelly holmes. Just kidding. 'Cos I asked her to.

After the Coathangers was Noot D'Noot (maaaaajor fun) and then Janelle Monae, a totally fitting closer to the evening. Oh yeah, Andy Hull, Dead Confederate, Anna Kramer and the Lost Cause, and some others played in between those acts, but uh, I can only report what I saw, right?

Yeah, totes, it was sooo amazing and I could not be happier that the whole thing got put together. Despite the skepticism (because there's no actual spike in sales seeing as everything was on sale) I know there's going to be another Record Store Day, and definitely a vinyl resurgence. Or at least a record player resurgence from all the free LPs given out yesterday.

Due to my stupidity I did not have my camera, so I have no photos, but will root around the 'net for some. In the meantime I'll try to hook my hoes and bros up with some of the music from NRSD.

Noot D'Noot - Fire King

The Coathangers - Parking Lot

Judi Chicago - Lizards

Great, great day...awesome, awesome night.

Your electric bird,
Erika

Homeless Soccer

I am MOST DEFINITELY going to update tomorrow after National Record Store Day, but in the meantime, tide your sad selves over with this AWEsome video:



From superdeluxe.com, one of the sponsors of Record Store Day! Whoohoo!

Your electric bird,
Erika

It Won't Get You Married, But...

Okay, I am here currently to profess my undying love for a couple of new tracks that are...mmm...pretty much off the chain. Actually, these bad boys are so good that they were on said chain, jumped off, repaired themselves, then repeated the whole act suicide bomber style. It was sick. I saw it happen.

Anyway, let's just dive right into it. The first one is from the uber-pop Bostonians the Billionaires. They're a five piece of working class dudes (and a fly dudette) from Martha's Vineyard that started a band, made fab music, and then followed suit of every other American band, relocating to LA, where they're currently hustling to get their song, "The End of Summer Song" on Indie 103.1. You can help out in the hustle and chart the come up on their little bio page on Too Soon Records. This song is "Eighties Movies," a light, airy summer song that almost requires you to put the track on repeat. It's almost sung-spoken and, with the lyrics, guitar bridge, and guy/girl interplay, this song feels like it should be a lost track from a of Grease or Guys and Dolls soundtrack. Of course, we've certainly seen these musical-style songs before (*cough cough Hard Place cough cough*) but I love them all. Makes me wanna go all Debbie Allen and Fame and shit.

The Billionaires - "Eighties Movies"

And to reference,

Hard Place - "Demographic" (found it!)

The next song is the Diplo remix of "Bama Gettin' Money." If you've heard the original song, it's eh, so-so, as far as hip hop goes, but then Diplo strolls along, pops a squat, and tinkers with the song until it's straight up flyer than a tsetse. This is definitely ridin' music. Oh, and it's recommended all ridin' be done dirty, k? Thanks. Peep Diplo's other works here.

Diplo - "Bama Gettin' Money" Diplo remix

Finally, we have one of the most interesting new little duos since the Dodos. This Is The Ivy League may actually have graduated from an Ivy League school (as their attire may indicate), but these Brooklynites aren't quick to flaunt any overt higher knowledge. The little cuties combine pop and shoegaze effortlesly, creating seamless three minute soundtracks to an indie movie. "London Bridges" coulda totally been in Juno. Like, for seriously.

This Is The Ivy League - "London Bridges"

That's all. Download, hoard, wear out, recycle.

Your electric bird,
Erika

There Is An Iguana In My Shoes

I hope you know that those palefaced, malnourished little sickly kids Francois and Johan from that show The Real Housewives of New York City (which incidentally wrapped up with a less than AWEsome finale yesterday) can say the title sentence in like five languages. Proving that even babies can be better than adults, with enough money.

Anyhoo, hey! Look over to the right! Your right! What do you see??? The correct answer is mp3s, good boys and girls! I have a lot of them and I figured that now is as good as anytime to share the fabulosity. Pass the pleasure around, I always say, which is why I'm a firm believer in sloppy seconds...and thirds...fourths...whichever. But I decided I have soooo many of those little two letter-one number music bytes that I'm gonna break bread with my bros and hoes every week! Awww yeah, soak up the rays of sunshine like an overaged beach bunny suburban mom in Los Alaminos with a lifetime membership to Sunset Tan, 'cause there're gonna be new songs in the sidebar on the first of every week! (And yeah, the rent'll still be there on the fifteenth of every month...)

Makes you just wanna say YEAHHH BOIII!!

And speaking of Flavor Flav, homeboy is in a new show on TV One (ummm...if that doesn't ring a bell, it's the only television station that still shows reruns of Good Times, K?) and I predict nothng but nonsense to ensue. I'm guestimating some cameos from the more famous Flav girls, a lot of that cackling he does, and some shit ass acting. I'm excited, aren't you? Could just shit ma pants right nizzow!

In other equally grand, and yet not as important news, the bomb chicas of Missbehave hooked all us ladies up with a look deep, deep, deep inside the echoing, dank, drippy cavern of a man's mind with a little column called "Dealbreakers," penned by Captain and Shark (no, not their God-given nomenclatures). It's a fabbity fab fab list of things some chicks do that make guys, and their little guys, wanna run for the border faster than an illegal alien in an INS search. One that I really like:

"Girls who call each other 'bitch' or 'slut':
'What's up bitch?' 'Not much, slut! You know, just slutting around.' Great. We can't have sex with either of you."

Tee hee.

Read more after the jump in the No.7 issue of Missbehave Magazine, k? Thanks!

So heed the warnings, keep it funky fresh, and land yourself a midnight cuddle buddy in no time. 'Cos you know that Carebear you sleep with can't touch you in that place without leaving a carpet trail.

Your electric bird,
Erika

O Hai!

Damn, this cheese is good. I mean really good. These microwaveable mac 'n cheese cups are THE SEX. And they're cheap. No wonder black people die of heart disease so much.

Hmmm...moving on, I've noticed there's like this weird sort of interplay between "old" (over 22) people and "young" (18-21) people. "Young" people are hip, can talk with fake British accents to assert their hipster status, and wear head to toe vintage that they paid far too much for while working in Urban Outfitters and biding their time till they can drink legally, all while chugging down the PBR their "old" roommate bought last week. In turn, "old" people can speak sagely about experiences they have yet to experience, try to figure out life for themselves while telling everyone else how to live theirs, buy wine from the liquor store (hoping the clerk asks for ID, though they know they will), and biding their time till they can either rent a car or run for president.

"Old" people like talking about Earth, Wind, and Fire nostalgically, even though they only know them 'cos their parents played the 45's during childhood.

"Young" people like wearing Earth, Wind, and Fire on a throwback tee they bought at The Kids Are Alright in Echo Park.

"Old" people like to wistfully remember riding the bus to work, to school, and to clubs at midnight in the inner city.

"Young" people like to ride the bus at midnight in the inner city, only to catch a cab from wherever they got off just so they can go to Starbucks the next morning and tell their friends they've ridden the bus at 12:00 am in the inner city.

It's obvious there's a generation gap between slightly old and new. Even with my boyfriend and I, who are only five years apart, sometimes it seems like I'm dating my older, wiser brother. But there's still a generation gap and I'm not looking to bridge it. I don't care if my coworker grew up on Blossom and I grew up on Full House. I had a bomb ass childhood and I can actually remember the first episode of Rugrats, 'cos I was there when it premiered. Oh well, I can't say I was there when Michael Jackson's hair caught on fire. But I can say I was there when Michael Jordan did Space Jam.

The same gap exists between my age group, the "young" and the "younger", but you don't see any 18 year-olds watching Hannah Montana and saying, "Damn, I remember when her father came out with the 'Achey Breaky Heart', and was on Doc." We know we're better without having to constantly validate our feelings.

Is anyone right? Nah. Is anyone wrong? Mmmm...maybe. I do know that I will for totally outlast all these hipster chicks that like to chase their Pabst with a Marlboro. Why? Porque I was born after the 50s and I know what it can do to you. Hah!

Your electric bird,
Erika

I've Got Your Eyelids

O.M.G. infinity symbol! I have just fallen in complete and total ardor with Crystal Castles! Firstly homegirl has mad style and her haircut is hella cute and that dude with her could totally hang with Justice, right? Am I not right? Hahaha...to avoid running the risk of sounding like someone who's completely ignorant of their brand new obsessh, Crystal Castles is Ethan Kath and Alice Glass and they're taking over the scene with gale force homie! I became like soooo totally besotted with the two feisty, fast fingered felons of the foot stomp while listening to them on Indie 103.1 in Santa Monica. Indie 103: radio for champs, yeah!

photo courtesy of andrew kendall

But like for real dudes, Crystal Castles are the shit. They're named after She-Ra's pad (BTW you're fully not allowed to ask them that or they'll get all tired of answering the question and shit, so don't) and they turn out just about any venue that books 'em. Hey, does anyone think they'll be here in three years when I can go see them live? Chances are, with the the way house's golden children can go from Shirley Temple to Baby Jane Holzer in the blink of a blog and the flavor of the day changes with the color of the ecstasy tab, prolly not. But there's no harm in enjoying what we've got right now, is there?

CC's self titled debut album is for sure out now (so you better get it, K? Thanks) and they're touring like madmen in the UK right after finishing a few nondescript house shows in warehouses and such around California, so you should catch them while they're still in vogue, K?

The best song - EVER - that Crystal Castles has is "Crimewave", which, in any hipster's terms, is not actually CC, but Crystal Castles v. Health (an equally hipsterish sort of group). Still, regardless of who originally put the song together and who remixed it and who gets the airplay, "Crimewave" is the shet. So much the shet that CC is pimping out tees broadcasting just that single. "Crimewave" has a sort of wave of its own. It's fecking awesome, my man.

You can peep Crystal Castles overrrrr here! and frolic in the heavenly dreamy madness that is "Crimewave" he-errrrr. You can also check up on various Crystal Castles remixes, at the 'Toof, where those dudes are mad blessed to get their hands on some primo shit.

'Cos, like, for serious dude, I luh Crystal Castles to pieces and beyond!

Your electric bird,
Erika

While You Were Sleeping...

I bought WHY?'s Alopecia from Criminal on Saturday. It's amazing, like moody, dark, and bleak. WHY? is really the hipster's answer to emo - I take that back actually. WHY? is the hipster's answer to Cake. With a little bit of Atmosphere. And Weezer. Just not...emo. Even still, the album is really good and cheap, since it only costs 9.99.

Speaking of music, and Atlanta, we're less than two weeks away from National Record Store Day! Yes, it means you should totally squeal with glee like a little schoolgirl. It's totally called for in this instance. Now about that time you found a Diane Von Furstenburg top for half off...But the lineup of bands playing live is amazing (I still cannot believe NRSD is fur-reee!) and it includes: Judi Chicago, Noot D' Noot, the Coathangers, Anna Kramer and the Lost Cause, and Manchester Orchestra, among many others. It's gonna be RAD. The sidewalk sale means reguluarly priced CDs are going for about a dollar and I think they said 9 dollars for a set of 4 is the most money you'll pay. I heard there was going to be a benefit CD made up to raise funds for the dudes and dudettes living over in Cabbagetown since their shit got like vaped in the stormnado...but I'm not sure.

It's still worth looking forward to. Free pizza too, BTW.

And about looking forward, for the few people on earth that read this blog, I'm going on a little vacay to LA to look at colleges with my mother (fun.) so I won't be here for about a week. Not like you read this or anything, but if you care, yeah, that's where I'll be. You'll have to get your interesting info from others...who? I just don't know.

I just don't know. PS Charleton Heston passed away, K?

Your electric bird,
Erika

My Hood Versus Your Hood

Ay! It's been a hell of a good start for DJ mixes 'round the way. Although I'm not gonna lie, sooo many songs get repeated from mix to mix that it's not even funny. Well, actually it is funny in a "I'm so different but so similar" kind of way. You know, like goth and punk kids.

Anywaysville, I've been shamelessly promoting DJs from here to Haiti these days, and though my affiliation with them doesn't go much farther than an enthusiastic fan, who doesn't like free press?

We start our selection off with one of the dopest groups of DJs in the world right now: The Hood Internet. Missingtoof peeped these dudes first, back last year, and now, as they would say, you too can peep scene. Most DJs generally limit their mix selection to electropop, electropunk, or that zany, out of the way shit that makes me reach for my pacifier...just kidding. But it's a little hard to get into, mostly because the bass/high hat combo and constantly chopping and screwing of the songs gets really annoying fast. If I wanted to hear Simian Mobile Disco repeat the same four words over and over again, I would listen to those same four words over and over again. See? But noooo, the crew at The Hood Internet is past that. In fact, they were past that before they even got to it, that's how transcendental their shit is. On their mix, aptly titled The Mixtape Vol.1 , the crew mashes Fiest, CSS with Rick Ross, Crime Mob with the Shins, and Swizz Beats with Deerhoof, just to name a few. Mad props if you can name all the songs mashed together without looking at the tracklisting! Anyway, you can peep the mixtape here, or here, if you wish. And while you're at Missingtoof, don't forget to give these dudes their well deserved props.

Moving on, we have Drastik, 1/4 of the Canadian DJ set known as Stylusts. On his (I think) most recent mix, Hipsterific Happy Hour, he takes us through a story of music with transitions smoother than chilled Grey Goose. My favorite part is his nice incorporation of Treasure Fingers, who reps the A-T-L every chance he G-E-T-S. Also notable is his use of Simian Mobile Disco's "It's The Beat" to transition into Li'l Mama's "Control." But if hour long DJ mixes aren't your thing...well, I can help you out a bit. BTW, get Hipsterific Happy Hour he-errr!

Villians aren't usually a thing I like to promote, mostly 'cos they haven't exactly stood for morals and justice, which I heavily endorse. (Well, easy on the morals, heavy on the justice.) But these Villians have birthed a sweet little minimix just for you, whether you don't like long mixes, or your house party just ran a bit short. At about 22 minutes, you can listen to this on your lunch break and still have time for Pilates before you go to work. Sweet! You can get the Villians mix here. (Just scroll down the page) Fully absorb the club atmosphere in your speakers, playa.

And that's all for now. Konichiwa bitchesss!

Worth listening to: Millionaires. If the Coathangers went to a rave in 1988.

Your electric bird,
Erika

Things What Make Me Happy This Week: Spring! Celebrity Apprentice, and Sweet Justice

Ahhhh...it's been long time no blog for me, mostly 'cos I've been reading other people's. Did anyone else know about that one blog dedicated to the style of Claudia from the Babysitter's Club? Which makes me ask when Shelby Woo will ever get her due...She was witty, styling, and completely rad for being one of the few Asians on Nickelodeon. Dude, it was hard back then for a pimp in '96...psshhh...

But to the point...it's Spring! Whoot! Even though the first day was 'ella cold and mad windy, it was still soooo sunny! I love Spring, but Autumn is still my favorite season. And it's almost April dude, which puts us days closer to the first annual National Record Store Day...!

Moving on, unless you don't own a television, can't access the TV Guide Channel, or don't live in the proximity of a liquor store (so you gotta be in the 'burbs), you have no excuse not to watch Celebrity Apprentice on NBC. I mean sure, the show's not so sweet after the jump, and Omarosa's ass got kicked so far to the curb, the streetsweepers had to avoid brushing it up in those big broom thingies, but still, who doesn't like watching C-list celebs (who still think they're big name stars) kiss Donald Trump's rich pale ass? That is so something I can't say no to. Ahhh, sometimes it's just refreshing to have the pecking order reinforced from time to time.

And finally, some fully sweet justice was recieved today (by me, of course) - but before I ruin the story's ending, I should get with the set up: this dude named Eli and I don't get along. We just don't. And not on my part, 'cos I try to include him in convos and shit, but all he likes are baseball and computer games, which keep him from getting his articles in on time (I'm an editor for The Catalyst newspaper). And we especially butt heads when it comes to politics, since I'm right and he's wrong 90% of the time. Did I mention he was a Republican? Well, now you know. Okay, so this whole Elliot Spitzer thing just gave him the smuggest grin I ever saw. He came in and tried to tell me Democrats weren't so holy after all. But then I countered with a healthy jab at our current Commander-In-Chief, which I guess he just could not handle, 'cos then he went on to write an editorial about third party candidates and Dems and blah blah blah blah blah...the point is, someone actually wrote to us bashing the shet out of Eli, which just made me smile, because it was nothing but sweet, sweet justice!

New Be Your Own Pet album out now! Everyone can get awkward already!

Your electric bird,

Erika

Things What Make Me Happy This Week: Louise, Stuff White People Like, And Glass Candy

Oh, March is here! And that, in turn, means Spring is here. Granted, Spring won't officially be here for another few weeks, but it's seventy degrees over here and the sun's shining. And that's Spring to me!

So this week, after my doting love lush on Them Jeans, I have a few more of my favorite things. First up is Louise, the mysteriously gorgeouisie gal that's recently popped up once again on The Sartorialist. She's making a tidal wave sized splash on the Internet, showing up on a million fashion blogs. I guess this makes it a million and one. I'm inclined to make a Cory Kennedy

comparison, but I'll hold off, don't worry. Still, this girl has some mad crazy Parisian style, and though the haters are out in full force, I'm still thumbs-upping her. If you go to the Sartorialist's blog and check her out, surely her flaxen dishwater orange hair, sans lens Ray Bans, and high waisted miniskirt (daring out the wazoo, son) can definitely persuade you to j'adore her. Alright, my French isn't that great...but, then again, I speak Spanish.

Moving on, we have the best blog I have ever read (aside from my own, duh), which would be Stuff White People Like, an ongoing list (up to at least 76 by now) of shit white people stereotypically enjoy. I ran across it in an email, and I totally vote it the funniest shit ever. Those who are easily offended, well, should leave America, but those who like to laugh at lighthearted stereotypes and common "white people" jokes will for sure get a kick out of this.

It turns out white people like being the only whites in ethnic restaurants, bottled and filtered water, and standing at concerts. Ah, the Belle and Sebastian joke is sooo much funnier when you've actually seen it.

And finally, we move onto Glass Candy, which is completely not slang for the sharded up apples creepos give out on Halloween. Or the stuff those wannabe X-Treme kids jump through on their skateboards when making amateur home movies to send to Jackass. No, this Glass Candy is the lovechild 80's synth and modern disco. Ultimately, it's slamming, but in such a Studio 54, LSD at two am, tiny disco ball earrings and your panties down at your ankles kind of way. It's the kind of music you would listen to while wearing a slightly permed and teased hairdo, stilettos, and a beaver coat (in the middle of the summer).

BTW, Ida No (the sassy blond vocalist) is beyond precious and even though Glass Candy permanently resides in Funky Town, Earth (I'm assuming that's somewhere between New Zealand and the Tropic of Cancer), and they probably will never tour over here, you can ALWAYS catch 'em on their myspace, which has all the groolest music a pill popping, false lash mastering, drama queen super chick needs.

OMG, that's kinda like me!

Your electric bird,

Erika

Things What Make Me Happy This Week: Them Jeans

Holy ravioli, son. I hate homework. Dude, if homework was a person, I would snub her out on the street so bad...you would have thought she was wearing a Hannah Montana "Best Of Both Worlds" concert tee or something...jeez. Anyway, since I rarely do my homework (cramming makes me smarter!), I guess I'll fill you in on what makes me sooo euphoric esta semana.

Them Jeans. That's right, Mr. Jeans. You music mash-up remix king ruling the L to the A with one hand on the turntable and one hand on your cell just in case Mr. Aoki catches a case and you need to run the coup d'etat...I really really like you. Honest. Pinky swear. I had a heavy crush on Them Jeans as soon as I caught wind of his "Oh Mandy" remix with Spinto Band and Rich Boi. Oh, how he had me in his clutches. I knew that under that surgically attached fedora lurked the mind of genius. So I dug...and was blessed. "My Testarossa and My Crack" was like the appetizer...I hungered for more.

And that's when the all knowing wax spinning DJ Demigods dropped into my lap the Palms Out Sounds Mix Series Vol.2. At first the lengthy name left me irritated and confused. I have an inherent distaste for those who enjoy many words and punctuations in their titles. (I'm still coming for you Kevin Drew. You think your BSS Presents...Spirit If:? bullshit got past me? Nope...my pretentious meter has been all the more honed and perfected upon the purchase of the last Of Montreal record, thanks.)

But I gave the entire thing a listen. And by the whole thing I mean the entire 30 minutes listening to Vol.2 requires. That's when I was smitten with Them Jeans. From Outkast to Justice to T.I. to MIA and beyond...well, it was the fastest orgasm I've ever had. Oh Them Jeans...you delivered the goods unlike any man before you and yet fled the scene faster than a one night stand...leaving me oh so unfulfilled and dissatisfied. I ate breakfast alone, and found an undesirable amount of pulp in my OJ...sigh.

Still, I forgave Them Jeans for his indiscretions as I watched him romance far more fabulous others, hitting the stage with the Cool Kids, Uffie, and Kid Sister. I almost loved him more for leaving me to further his career. I had to respect a man that could keep up the hustle.

In other words, I have mad, mad love for Them Jeans. And though I know it will probably never work between the two of us...well, just give me a farewell romp in the kip by making a rad Sugar and Gold, El Guincho, Karabal Nightlife remix...it's all I'll have for memories. Well, aside from those pictures that you took of me that got leaked on the Dim Mak site.

Just kidding.

Your electric bird.

Erika

Things What Make Me Happy This Week: Apes and Androids and Basia Bulat

It is Friday again, and gloriously so, as it means I can forgo mental exertion, curl up with my hour of Golden Girls, and laze around until it gets dark, at which point I'm forced to raise up and get on my hustle. Whew! Hard work, that hustle.
Anyhoo, what makes me mega, radly, ultra happy is the band Apes and Androids, from LA. They have a sound almost like if Of Montreal fell asleep at the wheel and drove into a ditch full of acid. Ooh. That sounds deadly serious. Hmm...I'll try again. "Nights of the Week" is smooth, like a 40 ounce at a nightclub with ripped velvet chairs. On the flip side, "Golden Prize" is like LCD Soundsystem style R & B with enough Of Montreal badassery to make you laugh so hard the option of dancing looks bleak.

Okay, I'll say they're an anomaly. But really, any more seasoned music journalist would be able to find a hybrid nomenclature for them. So let's leave it. Luckily (and no there's no scrunchie involved), Stereogum is all up on those downloadables, so you can get at those Apes, and court the Androids, simultaneously.

On the opposite end of the spectrum is Basia Bulat, the soft spoken Canadian chanteuse (and not in the Chunklet meaning of the word, thank you) with beyond the beyond gorgeous blond locks and that H & M lookbook worthy face. She was influenced by the oldies but goldies, namely Motown heavyweights, Cole Porter to be one, I believe, and thus out of those pinky, bow shaped lips flows a warmth worthy of a Cat Power contemporary, and almost liquid melodies with a slight country twinge.

Can you tell I love her? Is it obvious yet...? Well, I'll go on then. Oh My Darling, her abso-fabso '07 debut, is a rare square gem among the piles and piles and (sixties retrograde obsessed) piles of female singer/songwriters that pumped out the mediocre, radio wave friendly tomfoolery last year. Mostly I just harbor a heterosexual chick crush on Bulat because she's all model perfection, and I covet her silken mane in unbiblical ways, but the best part of the whole shabang is that past that porcelain doll-like countenance and the modestly humble hype, lies a voice and a talent that is pure gold.



Your electric bird,
Erika

Things What Make Me Happy This Week: Social Studies

How are things on the West Coast? Well, obviously pretty fantastic. At least that's what Social Studies would lead me to believe. Now don't you go running to the classroom for a lesson; San Franciscans Social Studies can school you in keyboard heavy indie rock all on their own.

Their newest album, The World's Biggest Hammer, is neither new nor anything to be missed. It originally debuted in 2006, but I would totally like to say that it was completely underrated in the entirety of the US outside of the Pacific Northwest.

Let me describe it like this: Casio, Casio, Casio, vocals, hi-hats, Casio. Get the picture? Yes, their Casio, in far better condition than the one owned by CSS, is their signature piece, added gratuitously to their dark, Shelley like vocals like glaze to an earthen pot, i.e. with care and wherever neccesary.

I've been listening to The World's Biggest Hammer for almost six months straight, and I cannot get it out of my head, you know, like Kylie Minogue can't. I would recommend listening to "Dante and Corey War" and "Pack of Cards," as heard on Sunday School a while back, because it's got some of the raddest lyrics I've heard in a good while.

They haven't come out with a full-length just yet, but you can still support the come up on their website, where you can buy the EP for only nine dollars. Surely your high paying job working the fitting room at the Gap can afford you that.

Their myspace.

Your electric bird,

Erika

A Not So Anonymous Letter To Missbehave

When I was born, I did not know what magazines were. Actually, I didn't know what anything was. Birth is pretty disorienting. Anyway, seventeen years later, I still did not have any idea what a real mag was. That was, until I found your magazine stuffed halfheartedly between Nylon and Bust. Ha, Bust. Who reads that? (The same people who like Bitch, I guess.)

But I digress. After I leafed languidly through your high gloss goodness, I saw the sign, and it opened up my eyes. Yeah, I saw the sign. My life was changed. Past your uniquely thin cover lies a veritable bevvy of useful information, mind (and genre) bending photos, and colors so bright, Lisa Frank would think she was tripping on acid.

I read Issue No.3, with the bomb Bijou gracing the cover in Bambi-like feigned innocence, so many times I started memorizing the articles, predicting the ads before I even turned the page, and generally becoming pyschotically obsessed with the gloss boss that your magazine entails.

Every few months, I stalk Barnes and Noble just praying I'll turn around and see a shiny badass cover smiling up at me, and when I do, it's like rain hit the Mojave. In fact, your MIA issue gave me the greatest happiness: when she came into town for a show at Centre Stage, I actually stood in front of Criminal Records for two and a half hours (secondhand smoking and actually making people believe I was in my 20's) until she showed up at Aurora and got her to autograph the cover. I told her, "You can sign anywhere. I've already read it."

And boy did I read it.

In other words, what I am trying to impart on you in as many bogged down words and a slightly quagmired style is that I love you, and everything you provide to those of us in the universe that don't believe in red, white, and Aeropostale. That must cringe when they walk past Delia's, and will for sure get it poppin' just to get that vintage plaid dress on the $1 rack. Thank you, Missbehave...thank you.

Your electric bird,
Erika
Issue No.5...I recommend reading the bit about Eurotripping...it's informative and amusing...something Europe is not so much of.