Been completely immersed in producing, shooting and editing a big online advertising project, in which we'll be re-presenting Key West to the gay market. It's been really fun and very overwhelming, but I think the results will be pretty special-I feel like we captured the special charms of the place. I'll be getting back to posting here soon, and the big website I'm working on will follow in October.
Roomie Kyle, now known as the man who spent the night in Trophy Bar (see below), in a much more flattering (and accurate) photo I took. More of my shots of fellas here.
..and walks out twelve hours later. That night I was to DJ with Sam at Trophy Bar a couple of weeks back? Well, we lost roommate Kyle (above, right) in there somewhere at the end of the evening-and it turns out he was rather lost himself. Read about it in Cara Buckley's piece in the New York Times, and check out some photos from the night below. The only correction of fact I have to offer is that when Kyle's friend came and tried to wake me up out of a post-DJ/many beered slumber, he said that Kyle was locked in some industrial space somewhere and that we needed to go find him. I reckoned that unless he could tell us where it was we weren't going to find him and it sounded like he was safe, at least, and went back to bed.
Good times, good times. What the article doesn't mention is that the music (by Sam) was off the chain, and that we all danced our asses off until closing. To purchase a mix from Sam that's very similar to the groove that started all the good trouble check out his MySpace page.
I totally concur with Wondrich's assessment of Clyde Common as one of the Best Bars in the country. That it got unaccountably cut from my story on Portland, OR in the June/July OUT bummed me out, but these things happen in late night pre-deadline crunch edits at mags. When that story goes online sometime in the next week I'll be posting my own expanded version here, but for the moment here's what I wrote about CC:
CLYDE COMMON DOMESTIC & FOREIGN COOKING
1014 SW Stark St
503-228-3333
clydecommon.com
A perfect bar and restaurant combo. The space is airy with tall windows and ceilings and the communanal seating at long wooden tables fosters conversations with fellow diners. Chef Jason Barwikoski’s close relationships with local farmers means unbelievably fresh ingredients that he presents with simplicity and savvy, letting the flavors speak for themselves. As good for lunch as it is for dinner, when the mellow Northwest light casts a calm glow over the dining room. 
My piece on the piece on the unbelievably cool (and punishingly-but-worth-it expensive) music player system is up at Esquire.com. To demo the player the PR guys invited me down to the showroom-which happens to be in the Classic Car Club on lower Hudson Street. (Mostly) guys buy into the club and get access to an astonishing array of vintage automobiles for weekend jaunts, dates and just plain old-fashioned joyrides. The garage where they're stored and showcased is also a private club with a bar, Guitar Hero set-up and the mighty, mighty Sooloos. They let me and some friends come down to let us try the thing out, and left us locked in after hours. We rocked out and took full advantage of the well stocked bar and a giant bottle of Maker's Mark, drinking and driving parked cars til late. Sometimes I envy my own life.
Technically Pollack's not in this scene from "Husbands and Wives" where his character's estranged wife is reaming him on the phone, but damn, that's good Jangly Davis. I'm gonna give it to him.
In honor of his full pardon by Governor Paterson, here's Slick Rick.
I review some trailers for your ass even though it is highly doubtful in will make it to your fucking blog...
Harold and Kumar
I am the only one in the theater - that's scary.
Dale denton - that is good weed, james franco, seth rogeson- good dope "like god's vagina" seth sees murder, bad guys huntiing stoners, in a dumpster, thug life, hijinks galore, my thumb is my cock...Pineapple Express
Changed things forever, no going back, you're just a freak like me, Heath brilliant as Joker, batcycle looks cool, let's put a smile on that face, Darknight oh fuck ya
Maybe its the cold wind, or the strange rumblings beneath the streets, wow, creatures , underworld, tentacles, battles, firegirl, "now you've pissed me off" Hellboy 2 yes yes yes
In a time when a world is searching for happiness, love guru, mike meyers, slapstick, site gags, sorry I didn't catch your gnome name, has to get hockey player back with his wife, jessica alba, justin timberlake, no no no Love Guru
Chopped cane at a sugar factory in Barbados over the weekend.
Finally got motivated to try out Muxtape, the cool mp3 mixtape sharing site. I could only fit 10 songs on the "tape", but it's a great way to pass 'em around. Essentialy you just share a player that sort of hijacks your (willing) computer's speakers.I also just figured out that all the names in the color bars on the home page are mixes from others, and often have unsigned artists posting material. And there are mixes from other users in all genres and it's a pretty great place to do some random listening. Great to make discoveries and put sounds with names-I'd heard about the awesomely titled Frightened Rabbit from a music writer this weekend, but just came across a track on this mix. I'm getting excited about music and mixes again, which is good since I'm spinning with Sam tomorrow night (Tuesday, June 20th) at Trophy Bar. Here's a muxtape I made with some ideas I've been toying with for tomorrow night. 351 Broadway, right by the Marcy stop on the JMZ. I'm planning on doing my set around nine o'clock, and maybe another one after Sam wears 'em out.
My sort of adopted baby brother Sam has a super sweet new mix that he's selling on his MySpace page. He and I will actually be spinning this Tuesday, May 20th, at my new favorite bar on the South Side of Williamsburg, Trophy Bar. If you are in New York and you like to have fun, I recommend you come. Here's a preview of Sam's mix.
I did an e-mail interview with Holly Johnson for my friend's webzine, Radiate. It was more of a correspondence, really. I was caught up in other things when the whole process started, and it took me by surprise when he first got back to me-and was wicked smart and political and rad and a writer, too. Had to step up my game. I think he still trounced me pretty good, though. Check it out here.
Something a little different this Friday. From my new favorite show on my favorite network (next to TCM) Adult Swim, the inspired Metacolypse (full episodes here). The biggest death metal band in the world, composed of dour, hapless rockers, wander into one epic fiasco after another, every move tracked and manipulated by a diabolical conspiracy. Here, it's nihilistic Murder Face's birthday celebration and he's sulking.
Oddly I'm going to check out Steven Beske's show tomorrow--photographs of death metal Norwegians like this cheerful fellow. In a world gone mad, these macabre rockers are almost cuddly and reasuring.
Or rather, illusions, as tricks are what whores do for money. Or candy. Neil Patrick Harris pulls some super sweet magic on a New York Times reporter--but you must read the entire piece to get what it is. Now, that's a good interview subject.
Caught "Ordinary People" on TV late the other night, and the poor quality of the transfer prompted me to send a note to the Criterion Collection folks about doing a remastered DVD with a new transfer. The film looks muddy and flat now, especially in low light scenes, and in spots it looks like a bad 70s TV movie. That's not my memory of seeing it in the theater, although that was 27 years ago. But to me it was luminous and even the dark stuff, like the sequences in the therapist's office were rich, and the low lighting seemed to hum. Of course the performances were unusually immediate.
Even though the print was bad, the distortion from shooting a digital image from the film on a TV screen makes something kind of nice and actually very evocative of that look that I remember.
Continue reading ""Ordinary People" Due For the Criterion Treatment" »
Happy to see that Junot Diaz nabbed the Pulitzer for "The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao". He was a tremendous presence at this year's Key West Literary Seminar, generous with his time and endlessly friendly to the women and men-but mostly women-who mobbed him, like Judy Blume here on the right who is sweating him hard. Just kidding. Helluva lot of charisma though, and a great guy. I actually think that reading "Wao" could jog one out of a non-reading lull that I think so many of us (myself included) are afflicted with in our shortened attention span era. The book is so full of energy and raw, often brutal life, and it's very disciplined and tight. Check out a podcast of Junot reading from the book here.
At a KWLS party Billy Collins was asking Junot about all the fanboy literature, comics and films referenced in "Wao", as a kind of follow-up to Billy's conversation about "extra-literary" inspirations, and weaving those into your work. Someone came up at this moment and pulled me away to deal with some crisis, and let me tell you I regret not overhearing this exchange.
Vladimir Cosma's score for "Diva" hits a high note with this tentatively romantic interlude, as does the film. On a rainy cold day in New York somehow the rain in Paris looks-and sounds-more desirable. The clip is a bit dark, but you get the drift.
This week at DIFFA's Dinner By Design two dozen or so design firms and schools presented dining environments in booths at Skylight Studios and raised money for HIV/Aids care and research. Most of the tableaux demonstrated that their designer's chief ability to shop, and shop a lot, for opulent, intricate place settings. But a couple stood out in their concept and production. The Rockwell Group created this dining table that was all hand knit, a welcome contrast to the rococo Long Island settings elsewhere. A lovely young woman named Mary was still at the table knitting.
Mary had knit the hanging lights "fixtures", each one of which had taken 5 hours to create.
Erykah Badu's album "New Amerykah" gets a savvy review from Sasha Frere-Jones in the New Yorker--it's a invaluable primer for where Badu is coming from and where she's going, both musically and thematically. The album is challenging and strange, angry and consoling, and if you manage to get past the strange, deliberately dissonant interludes between songs you'll find a potent and intoxicating array of music.
My current favorite is the metronomic "Soldier", a call to awareness and action for a populace numbed and pacified. There's a euphoric swell of organs behind "Baptized when the levees broke" that cuts into your heart. It's followed by this passage that refers to Harriet Tubman's practice of forcing slaves to participate in their liberation; pulling a gun on them she'd say, "you march or you die".
"we gone keep marching on/till we here that freedom song/and if you think about turning back/I got the shot gun for your back/and if you think about tunrnin back?I got a shotgun on ya' back/(harriet style)"
From Gina Bellafante's NYT review of the new season of "The Hills":
"During its third season, which picks up again on Monday after a
three-month hiatus, “The Hills,” set among young aspirants of the
Hollywood Hills’ music 
and fashion industries, has continued to track
the emotional warfare between former best friends Lauren and Heidi,
while delving more deeply into the twistedness, gaslighting and
superficiality of the boyfriends who ensure that the tortured rivals
treat each other like Crips and Bloods. The show that looked, in all of
its Antonioni-esque plotlessness and dreamy cinematography, at the
ignominies of youthful friendship has turned toward the more
conventional cruelties that good-looking playboys perpetrate on young
women who wear low-rise pants and put on boots in warm weather."
The girls in "The Hills" certainly share a similar aimless searching to some of Antonioni's characters, and she's right about the dreamy, otherworldy photography and pace. What are the Hills girls looking for? Better boyfriends and hotter careers? Better clothes? More shoes? By contrast, there is an abiding sense of soul searching, a quest for meaning beyond what society offers, in "L'Aventurra" or "L'Eclisse". It's a insightful, depressing piece, nailing the soullessness of this "faux-improvised reality show", and by extension all of us who follow it or, in fact, write about it.
My friend Jordon was just on the set of The Wolfman in London, working with the unit photographer. Sunday night he re-enacted some of Benicio del Toro's Wolfman poses at a party for the "Elements" shoot Matthew Rolston did for Make Me A Supermodel. Not a sentence you get to write every day. More shots of Wolfman Jordon after the jump, for the Wolfman completists, as well as some Make Me A Supermodel folk shots.
Rolston with "Air"
They are powerless to stop posing.
The passing of an old friend brought me to this final sequence of Harold and Maude, both for the peerless expression of grief and, in the end, the celebration of life lived freely.
Wed 12/03/2008 11:12 12032008204
Thu 06/03/2008 11:47 06032008201-001
It's hard to leave a place that feels so much like home.
I had no problem typing out this passage below from Geoff Dyer's essay Decline and Fall from his book "Yoga for People Who Can't Be Bothered to Do It", as I both wanted to practice writing like him, even on this simple manual level, and to pay closer attention to the meaning, as it hit pretty close to home.
"I headed for the Campidoglio and it was there, as I sat musing amid the ruins of the Capitol, that the idea of writing a book about seemed an impossible undertaking. Id did not manifest iself immediately, definitively, but I had a premonition that any hopes I had once entertained of writing such a book would one day lie in ruins about me. I had been drifting for years, and now-like the lone cloud we'd seen at Hadrian's Villa-I had drifted to a standstill. I may not have admitted it at the time-if that afternoon was a turning point, then I responded as one invariably does at such moments, by failing to turn-but at some level I knew that I had been kidding myself: that all the intellectual discipline and ambition of my earlier years had been dissipated by half-hearted drug abuse, indolence, and disappointment, that I lacked purpose and direction and had even lessidea of what I wanted from life than I had when I was twenty or thirty even, and I was well on the way to becoming a ruin myself, and that was fine by me."
One of the guys who contributed tips for my camera story over at Esquire.com was my old pal Mark Tusk. Tusk's photos of the dizzying highs and glamorous lows of New York society always seem to make you feel you are there-something about his presence and his eye just gets both the tawdry and the intimate moments right. Here's NPH getting a big wet one from bf David. Check more of Tusk shots of the creatures of the night his Flickr page.
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