Friday, October 18, 2002 at 18:13:38 (EDT)

In which, I make myself useful
I'm about to go see Bowling for Columbine, Michael Moore's new documentary. It should be very educational, but, you know, in that way that only confirms stuff I already think I know. Very liberal, eh?

I telecommuted today, unabashedly, and then blew off work a 3 to work on soundproofing the basement. It's a long annoying story, but the short version is: we have access to the basement, nobody uses it, so me and a couple guys play music down there every Wednesday night. Despite doing this for many months, the neighbors have only begun complaining in the last few weeks (of course we are supposed to overlook the horrifying screaming and punching fights that family indulges in weekly). I'm trying to do the neighborly thing by working to soundproof things as much as possible ... without actually spending any real money on it. If you've ever soundproofed for real, you know it's an expensive proposition. I am trying to have it both ways. The only commercial business on my block is a guy named Eddie who sells "antique furniture," ie, junk he finds in the garbage. Sometimes he gets nice stuff, though, and his prices are cheap. And he couldn't be a nicer guy. He gave me a deal on a few dity chinese rugs, and I spent the afternoon trying to turn them into high-tech sound-reducing devices. I started by nailing one rug to the basement ceiling. That was nasty. The ceiling is mostly floorboards, with a few rotting pieces of drywall still clinging in places. Somehow I got the rug to stay up, but the result is not particularly awe-inspiring. Next I spent like an hour picking up pieces of the ceiling that had fallen on the floor. Then it was off to Adami Hardware on Myrtle for supplies.

One way I know I am heterosexual is the fact that I am irrationally attracted to hardware stores. I could spend all day in them, and have on occasion. I bought a bunch of grommets, a blue tarp, some adhesive hooks, and some carpet cleaner. My plan is to take the largest of the three rugs and pound brass grommets along one side, then mount the hooks along the duct that bends arond one side of the room and then hang the rug along it. I have already done this with an old blanket and another blue tarp. I love those tarps.

The new tarp is gonna go in the back of the room where it leaks when it rains. I theorize that I can hang this tarp from the ceiling and duct tape the bottom to the floor, and thus have some amount of control over where the water goes when it seeps in. Also I would like to control the slugs that have been running around in the basement when I am not around. I don't see them, but have often found their trail of slime left behind. It's either slugs or Republicans.

This had better do some good. I don't want to jeopardize this space we have, but I also gotta be able to crank it up a little. What's the point of having a basement if you can't do this stuff? I just read on TenantNet's message board that some guy got sued for playing his guitar too loud, but won the case because the judge said he should be allowed to do what he wants in his apartment during reasonable hours. Other interested New Yorkers should read the guidlines in the noise law. Did you know that whispering registers a whopping 30 dBs?

Posted By Jimmy Legs

Friday, October 18, 2002 at 10:01:43 (EDT)

I guess North Korea will be the next country the mighty US goes after. After that, I believe Bush will go about annihilating the other countries of the world in alphabetical order.

Posted By Jimmy Legs

Thursday, October 17, 2002 at 01:53:15 (EDT)

In which, I reconsider my cold, careerist lifestyle, and weep
Okay, I didn't update at all in the past 24 hours. But I can assure you that you missed nothing. I haven't done anything or had an thought in my head since Tuesday. I am back to telecommuting, and barring a direct order from my middle manager, I can't imagine I'll be in the office that much. If it's not raining tomorrow, I might go in, just to say I did it. Kind of a dumb reason, but what the hell. I've sort of got an office, I guess I should visit it.

C called me for the first time since February, I think. C is some guy who works for the placement agency I once petitioned for work. I never actually got a job from them, but for some reason this guy calls me every half-year or so to see if I still want a job. Apparently when I did my initial tests, I scored an A- on the Quark test. This is apparently unheard-of, as the test is designed to be too hard to complete with any precision in the time allotted. What can I say, I'm a machine. He wants me to send him an updated version of my resume, something I have not done in over two years now. Yikes. I gotta add my current job to it, but damn if I know what it is. Web Designer? Not really, I don't feel like I've 'designed' much of anything. Programmer? Naw, my coworkers are very savvy programmers, but I only deal in HTML, javascript, and ASP (when somebody shows me how first). Webmaster? While I do basically run my company's corporate intranet, I don't feel like I have any authority. Also if I was Webmaster I'd have to take credit for the ugly design of the site. Purveyor of tedium? Bullseye. I did get to 'redesign' the company graphic that is placed on every employee's computer desktop, but even that was tedious. Maybe I'll just go with Web Grunt.

At any rate, how could I leave my job, when it is, from a convenience standpoint, better than ever? My office is back in the same state as my home, it's 10 minutes away by subway, I still get to work from home most of the time, I haven't physically seen my boss in over a month. If I get a raise, it'd be friggin Paradise. But I really should get back in the Game. The Game being the world of print production, the skill I honed specifically to make it in this town. That was before I realized that every single other New Yorker has at least one degree in graphic design. I often fear that my current job won't last forever, and once returned to the rat race, I'll be so woefully out of practice that I will be forced to take a job in a bar or restaurant. And people are allowed to smoke in those places! Oh my!

So I'll have to procrastinate about this potential job from C for a while. His company offers permanent placement, which would be nice, since I'm well into year 2 of my staffing service piggybacking my paychecks every week. But oh, how they love me up when I call! It's almost, but not quite, worth it.

Hmmm, I meant to post a short blurb about how I was looking up blog resources on the web. There is a lot of blog stuff out there. It's kind of disgusting. I've never seen such a simple concept get so warped by the public's demand for a quick fix. There is in the long list of blog-related utilities one site I found that is actually useful: How to Install CGI Comments on Your Weblog. Attentive readers will note that in my previous post (note use of new script-generated anchor links!) I mentioned wanting to do this, and somebody has already gone through the trouble of writing the code! Sometimes, the most comforting thing about the internet is knowing that no matter what you are thinking, somebody else probably already thought of it. And probably thought of it 10 years ago. I will look into this Comments feature, but I am hesitant to implement it, simply because this blog is new and I doubt more than 3 people are reading it. There's nothing sadder than looking down a list of blog entries and seeing after each article, "Comments (0)". But maybe it would spur interest in this site. Sure, that makes sense! Functionality for functionality's sake! I want to put all the toys on my site that can be found on most other sites, of course that will drive traffic here! Alas, I am pretty sure this is how marketing people see the world. Many a time have I witnessed a marketer's presentation whose unifying theme was, "It worked for them, it'll work for us!"

Posted By Jimmy Legs

Forget Smoking, fight the Real Enemy: Candy Cigarettes

Wednesday, October 16, 2002 at 00:31:18 (EDT)

In which, I list future site enhancements you won't care about
I've been doing a little more CGI fiddling, and I put up a feedback form page. I've always found this to attract a lot more responses than a plain old email link. I guess my next steps would be a comments section accompanying each entry, since so many people will be provoked by my science that they will have to leave comments for every single thing I write. After that, I'd like to find a way to auto-archive my older entries, although that's not hard to manage manually. It's still the best way! A lot of blogs feature 'permalinks', a simple way to link to each article so if somebody likes it they can just send the link to that specific article to somebody else (or link it on their own blog). That way you don't have to sift through a whole blog for that one pearl of wisdom. I have amended my blog script to create an anchor on each post , so I can, with limited difficulty, link to an older article if need be. Of course, as I archive it will all be moot. Maybe I should learn to build a simple search. Matt's Script Archive has it all, and most of those free scripts still haven't really been matched in functionality.

Posted By Jimmy Legs
Evan LeVine took bitchin' photos of Shellac, especially Todd!

Tuesday, October 15, 2002 at 17:54:20 (EDT)

In which, I review Shellac at NorthSix
Okay, with all the other garbage I wrote today, this will be chronologically incorrect, but I wanna go back and talk about the Shellac show last night. Not to be confused with the previous entry about Saturday's Shellac show, this show was Monday at North Six, a relatively new club in Williamsburg. It is cool because it is technically Brooklyn; it is bad because it is specifically in Williamsburg, which may as well secede from the Borough as it is invariably referred to as a separate entity from Brooklyn. At any rate, it is officially in Brooklyn, and I liked the idea of Shellac going out of their way to play in Brooklyn (last time they played all their shows at the Knitting Factory).

Anyhow, this time we wanted to get there early to best the Record Store Guys who no doubt would swarm the stage. The doors opened at 8 PM, so we strode up, only to find the main stage still unopened and hear from the door guy that the opening band wasn't going on until 10:30. This was most distressing, but, and this is the really distressing part, we believed him, and went to the Sweetwater down the street to wait it out. We returned at 9:30, assuming it would still be mostly empty. It was packed.

B was intent on getting up front, so she led us around until we found a pocket right in the front and center region. I think that space was left open to provide a potential buffer for the audience if the opening band turned out to suck royally. But I had heard some of Bellini's music online and knew it would be cool, so arranged ourselves against the stage. They started playing around 10 PM, way before I expected. I'm afraid I don't know about all the history related to members of Bellini, I understand that their drummer used to drum for Don Caballero back in the day, but the guy who showed up last night was not him. He was a new drummer, apparently without a history, although I feel he strongly resembled one of the Baldwin Brothers. Bellini was great, a really bizarre bunch of folks: new drummer, indie-guy bass player, aging but vigorous guitarist (Agostino), and the lead singer, who wasn't quite old enough but reminded me of somebody's Italian Mother. She wasn't what you'd expect from a screamy lead singer (I think they really sound like Jesus Lizard with a female singer). But she does it. We couldn't really hear the vocals, but I never thought we would at such a show. We were probably standing a bit too close to the bass guitar amp to really hear the big picture, but they still rocked. I actually remembered to buy their CD before we left.

Shellac started setting up and That One Roadie Guy Who Looks Really Familiar To Me, But I Don't Know Why came out and started warning Brooke that her head would be staring right into the bass drum the whole night. He then asked her to help if the microphone should fly out or Todd should pound the drums into the audience. A woman, whose name I think is Jodi, was next to us taking pictures. She is apparently pals with them Shellac boys, and has promised to post the pics on her site, Lexiconoclast. So Bob and Todd were setting up their stuff, and Steve comes out to set up his stuff. Some people started clapping, but most knew to ignore him and wait for him to emerge as Steve the Performer, and not Steve the Self-Roadie. Eventually, they started playing, opening with "In A Minute." They played many of the same songs as Saturday, even repeating the antics they had choreographed into the set. This was sort of disappointing to confirm that just about everything they do on stage is well-rehearsed, but I suppose that's part of their live allure. For what it's worth, I think their performance was even better than the previous one.

Q&A time with Bob was not particularly fascinating, although people started using Bob as a go-between concerning the possible adoption of a pitbull-labrador dog. I wondered if anybody would pester them about the sniper, and sure enough, somebody did. But the person asked it in a brilliant way:

Q: Who do you think the DC Sniper is?
Bob: (no hesitation whatsoever) Rollins.

That was the first time I'd ever heard laughter go on so long it kept Bob from being able to hear the next question. Some people kept calling out for the "Copper Song", and Steve explained how they wouldn't play any song that was requested. He sounded so sure of himself, but near the end of the set B heard them talking while deciding what to end with:

Steve: Let's just play Copper
Bob: But that's letting them win!

They ended with "Prayer to God," which I am getting a little tired of hearing. Don't they ever play "QRJ"? I guess Steve is a big softie, in the end. He wanted to give the hecklers what they wanted, and it was only guiding hand of Bob that allowed to stay true to their dogma. Despite hearing a lot of the same songs as Saturday, it was still totally kick-ass. I just wish people danced around a little more. All you can get out NYC audiences to do is bob their heads a little. I guess it's better than nothing, better than the people who stand absolutely still no matter what. One of these jokers wedged himself in front of me at some point. I don't know why guys like that wanna stand up front. I'd probably be a little more generous if it wasn't My All-Time Favorite Band. But then again, if it wasn't, I probably wouldn't be up front, either.

Posted By Jimmy Legs

Another Shellac Review

Tuesday, October 15, 2002 at 14:33:23 (EDT)

In which, I give obligatory browser spiel
Let me say this about web browsers: first of all, I hate the worse 'browse'. It makes me envision a greasy-haired, balding man with a pointy nose and coffee breath, looking over your shoulder at the Barnes & Nobles and quietly masturbating. I bet a lot of other people feel the same way.

At home I use Mozilla, because it's the only browser that doesn't make me nervous that it's doing something creepy to my system. Of course, because it's open source, one feels there may be bugs waiting to strike, and it is sort of a memory hog. But somehow all these aspects pale when one considers that one is not using Internet Explorer. Sometimes you will visit pages that have javascript or some other funky thing, and it won't function properly under Mozilla. Contrary to what you might think, I enjoy this, as it reveals the short-sightedness of the owner of the site. Try this, if you're ever browsing (ewww) a page with IE, and you attempt a right-click to save a picture or whatever, and you get that JS thing that pops up a dialog box and says "no no no!", you usually can visit the same site in Mozilla and right-click to your heart's content (yes, you can disable javascript in the browser options but that's not the point!). Those javascript guys think they're so smart but they didn't bother to write an all-inclusive code. And it's not like Mozilla's some under-a-rock piece of code; it's the same basic engine that powers the once-mighty Netscape, which now runs second to its open source cousin.

It isn't Netscape's fault. When I first got into all this time-wasting glory, I used MOSAIC. What am I saying, "I" used it? Like I had a choice! EVERYBODY used Mosaic at first (don't forget you can still use it you want!), but then Netscape 1 came along and though I cannot say if it was faster or better at that point, it DID have a pulsating letter N, and that was cool. Netscape was culled from the original guts of Mosaic. At some point, the programmers created the Godzilla-like mascot, "Mozilla", named after the Mosaic browser. It's actually kind of funny that name stuck as deeply as it did. Then, for a long time, everything was fine. Then Bill Gates woke up one day and decided the world was not enough; he would have cyberspace as well. Mayhem ensued, and before you could say "Brundlefly" Netscape had been joined with the monster AOL at the molecular level. We waited to see what the creature would look like when it emerged from its stasis pod. And then, with mounting horror, we watching the once-proud Netscape application crawl out of the box, its legs deformed and useless, its body slowed under the weight of all the bloatware AOL had cruelly attached, its little N logo besmirched with catchphrases like "10000 hours free!"

In summary,
Mozilla=good(enough)
IE<[diddly/squat]*crap
Netscape=Brundlefly

Posted By Jimmy Legs

Tuesday, October 15, 2002 at 12:53:19 (EDT)

In which, I get offended by having to 'go to work'
This morning I realized that I don't care what they do with the WTC site. I don't care if there's a memorial, or a pair of buildings in the shape of two giant boobs. All I want out of that site, is to get them to open the friggin' streets! They have construction equipment blocking street on several blocks, which makes my new morning commute a real pain. If they don't get on the ball with this, I will call upon my Boy Scout training and build a monkey bridge across the span of the site. Grief can only hinder banality for so long.

It was weird emerging from the Broadway station this morning, looking towards the WTC site and seeing no towers, Krispy Kreme, or big fountain, but seeing, rather, the building in which I now am (yah, that's the grammatically correct way to say that!). It's like the bosses took the same view: "Well, they broke the buildings that were there. Wait a minute, what's the building that has been since revealed? Eh, put 'em in there."

Looking out the window at my coworkers' glorious cubicles, one realizes how much actual real estate lies west of the West Side Highway. This is all borrowed land, built with crap dug out of the center of the city to build other skyscrapers. I wonder how long we can keep this up? Maybe we'll build a land bridge to Staten Island, the Forgotten Borough.

Anyway, one item of note, is an old boarded-up brick building down on West St. (I must being my camera next time). It's not very noticeable, a 3-story structure surrounded by shiny towers and expensive apartment high-rises. According to Forgotten New York, the house was built in 1845. If I could get the money to buy it and renovate it ...

I'll put pictures up here soon if I can remember to bring the camera, and if I ever bother to return to this godforsaken place.

Posted By Jimmy Legs

Forgotten New York: Loving Inanimate Objects in the City

Tuesday, October 15, 2002 at 12:02:29 (EDT)

In which, the Prodigal Web Designer returns, and still complains
Today I returned to the ranks of office dwellers. My company, whose offices were destroyed as a sort of afterthought to the World Trade Center attacks, has, with my presence, officially returned to downtown's financial district. For the first time in well over a year, I rode the A train to Broadway-Nassau at 9 in the morning, stepped out into the morning air and strode to the office. It still feels a little odd, considering that the last time I went through these motions it was 9:10 AM on Sept 11th, 2001. I'm annoyed they still haven't reopened the exit on Fulton Street, the one I always used; but it looks like I'll be staying on the train til at least Chambers St. It's not really closer but it does circumvent some of the blocks still barred from pedestrian access. I suppose all these street will eventually reopen, and then they'll shut em down again to rebuild whatever they think they're gonna build.

Here's the state of the art in office security. When I arrived this morning I had to trade in my old ID badge for a new one; for this, they took yet another horribly unflattering photo to match the one I used in Jersey. When they made this new card, they took my fingerprint patterns off some little button thing like they used in Total Recall and probably a million other lame-ass sci-fi films. So when I want to get into the building, I (literally) rub my photo ID cardon this convex nub on the edge of the turnstile. No slot to swipe with lewd thoughts racing through my head; now I've got the big bulbous knob to rub my picture on.Once you do this to the knob's satisfaction, it beeps and turns green (wouldn't you?). That's when you place your finger on the little pad, no doubt crawling with the germs of a million fellow scumbags, and it reads your fingerprint and decides if you are imperfect or not. I swear it hurt a little when it read my finger, like it was taking a tiny drop of blood from me to make sure I was genetically pure, like in Gattaca.

So I get up to the 23rd floor, and check the map for where my new home is. After scanning the stupid map for like five minutes, I finally locate the pink-highlighted spot that is mine. It's on the corner of a section full of people not in my division at all. Those people are all half way around the corner. And they're having a great time, in their roomy cubicles that each one has to himself, admiring their lovely view of midtown and the river which, from this height, looks placid and beautiful.

My cubicle is about a quarter the size of everybody else's from my department. It is just big enough for one human to sit and do his work. The problem is I am to share this cube with the other long-term contractor on the job: D, the Spanish Guy. I have a view of the (admittedly lovely) laser printer, but only if I conspicuously rotate my chair and peek around the edge of my cube. The upside is, I don't think anyone will ever a) talk to me, or b) know that I am here.

But this creates confusion: the boss stated that once back downtown, he would expect us to foster a more physical office presence than we had in Jersey (when we all pretty much telecommuted all the time, boss included). Yet, I cannot be here all the time, since I am sharing a cube (although there is 'hoteling' space available by reservation here, yah right). Meanwhile, my cubiclemate D is always up to his neck in some project that relies on getting together with people from different disciplines; the only way to do this is to be here often (although he's not here today for some reason). So my solution to whole problem of sharing space: I never, ever, ever, come into the office, unless I have to deliver something or there is free food available. Nobody needs to see my ass here anyhow.

Still, it will be nice having an office back in a sort of convenient location again. I can get here pretty quick, and more importantly, I can leave quicker. It's 11:30 now and I'm about ready to call it a day already. They're having an orientation later on, but I'm starting to wonder what they might be able to tell us I don't already know.

Posted By Jimmy Legs

Monday, October 14, 2002 at 17:45:56 (EDT)

From one cold-blooded murderer to another

"The sniper attacks, first of all, I'm just sick -- sick to my stomach -- to think that there is a coldblooded killer at home taking innocent life," President Bush told reporters. "I weep for those who have lost their loved ones."

The President has not yet publicly stated whether he wept for the innocent civilians killed in US attacks on Afghanistan, but sources close to the White House say Bush is an inhuman monster who will probably destroy all life on the planet Earth before his reign of terror will run its course. An unnamed member of Congress, however, disagrees with taking action against the commander-in-chief, even going so far as to vote to give Bush even broader powers for screwing up the world. The source commented he was taking a "wait and see" attitude with Bush's newest plan, entitled "Operation Fuck You."

Posted By Jimmy Legs

Monday, October 14, 2002 at 00:44:08 (EDT)

Just in case you missed it
In my piece on my attempt to go to the City Council meeting, I mentioned the guy dressed up like a cigarette who looked more like a big chocolate milkshake. Here he is in all his glory:

You can see the dumbass sign they gave him. I can't wait for Bloomberg to (personally, of course!) deliver documents smuggled out of the office of Big Tobacco, Inc., in which they discuss how much they "love" secondhand smoke, and are finding a way to get it not only to minors but also cute puppies. Diabolical bastards.

Why do I get the feeling that in every walk of government in this country we are pointing the cannons in precisely the wrong direction?

Posted By Jimmy Legs

NYT: Nice piece on why Bloomberg is a big stupid jerk

Sunday, October 13, 2002 at 23:17:39 (EDT)

In which, I declare the Emperor has no clothes

I don't even wanna get into this, but B and I just returned from seeing Punch-Drunk Love. Okay, I may be biased in my hatred of Adam Sandler and my suspicion that PT Anderson is a swelled-headed hack, but even I was surprised how much I disliked this 90-minute waste of screen space that could be better served by the atrocious Army Propaganda we were subjected to before the film. It's been getting good reviews but they all seem predicated on the concept that when watching the film, the audience already likes Adam Sandler, and thinks PT Anderson is a really wise director. Since I think neither, I was at a disadvantage. I already exhausted most of my disgust towards the film with B as we settled up at the Old Town Bar for beer and wings, but suffice it to say: this is not a movie, it is a forbidding black hole of cyphers, unsubstantiated conflict, and romanceless romance. If that sounds like your cup of tea, fuck you. No offense.

Sorry, but films like that piss me off. B thought it was 'ambitious' but ultimately a 'failure'. I agree with part of that. As I told her, it's easy to be ambitious, as long as nobody ever checks to see if you make good on your promises. I could say I am working on a public transportation system for the city that cuts commute times in half and doesn't smell like pee. They'd say, "That boy is surely ambitious!" As far as that goes, my work is done. Why bother actually working on it, when I've let the world know how smart and clever I am? PT Anderson is no more than a low-rent PT Barnum with a camera and Robert Altman's dolly.

The Old Town bar, however, was lovely as ever. It's certainly my first choice in the Union Square area. I know they film lots of movies there but it's still a cool, nontrendy bar. Jimmy Fallon came in while we were on the subject of young mediocre comedians, but he didn't stay long. He walked in with his head down, ostensibly trying not to attract attention. But that particular stance serves only to draw attention to whoever is doing it, which I think was his goal all along. If he had strolled in, head held high, I would have mistaken him for one of the fratboys sitting at the end of the bar. Ah, he loves it, he can't get enough of it.

Posted By Jimmy Legs

Sunday, October 13, 2002 at 13:31:12 (EDT)

In which, I blab about Shellac before going to the movies

I don't think bob Weston was in a good mood at last night's show. He said "I wasn't in a good mood before the show." Because I am so sensitive to the suffering of others, I took this to mean he wasn't in a good mood. He still rocked the house down, I just felt it could have been better if he had been more animated. He still did what he had to do. Shellac always seems to be having a really good time, even when they're playing their meanest songs, or they're playing the same song they've been playing for the past decade. B noted that at a Shellac show, nobody is distracted. Nobody's mind wanders while listening to the music. They have a way of engrossing the audience. It's even better when you're really familiar with a song, because you know they'll change it significantly when played live. It's like a three-ring circus, trying to figure out who's gonna do what. I should have written down the setlist, but it was so crowded I could barely lift my arms to scratch my nose. These are the songs I recall, in particular order:

  • Ghosts
  • My Black Ass
  • In a Minute
  • The Billiard Player Song
  • Canada
  • Il Porno star
  • Wingwalker
  • Prayer to God
  • Dog and Pony Show
  • Squirrel Song
  • Watch Song

They also had a few new songs, which was a relief, since the last two times I saw them they had no new material. The new songs are great, although I am not entirely sure when some of those songs begin and end. They ran most of the songs together, and as many of their songs require them all to hit a note simultaneously, then sit in silence for a moment, then hit the same note again, a lot of the set was like one big medley. Come to think of it, they aren't averse to stopping a song altogether in the middle and standing around making airplane noises for five minutes before going right back into the rest of the tune, so I probably shouldn't think of any of their pauses as anything but part of the song. Even when they tune up or take questions.

I decided my questions about the existence of god and roommate politics were probably not worth mentioning. They had a couple of good questions, nothing spectacular. Todd was really on the ball, I love that they put his drumset front and center, it allows one to really see how he works. I've always noticed how high he places his two ride cymbals (Zildijan, look like 20"), but last night I realized he keeps his snare drum much higher than most drummers. Most people keep their snares at about lap level, or a little higher, but he had his set to what I would describe as "Hot Soup Level," about midway up his chest. This forces him to hunch over his drumset is a most odd fashion. He's only got three drums (besides the bass), but he makes it sound like he's got Tito Puente's percussion section working for him. It's all in the wrists, don't ya know.

We were pretty much in the center of the room, but B could only see Steve Albini, as her view was blocked by all the tall Record Store Geeks in front. When we go again on Monday , I will suggest she put on her elevator shoes. There's no protection against the Record Store Clerks and their desire to get up close and personal with members of the band. Even though we staked out our position early, plenty of VIP's (Very Important Poseurs) pushed their way in front of us, packing everybody so tight if somebody dropped a drink, they'd have to wait til the show was over for it to hit the floor.

We saw Nina Nastasia open for Shellac the last time they played the Knitting Factory. At that viewing, I was disappointed, since I came to see some loud hard rock. She's more the singer-songwriter-Liz-Phair-Elliott-Smith type, and the first time round I thought it was some sort of scam just because her album was recorded by Albini. But this time I knew what to expect more, and I really enjoyed her set. It was better this time, too, with the addition of a full band (that included a string quartet!), and an accordion player who looked like he was about to nod out.

Posted By Jimmy Legs

 
 


Archives

Week of October
13-19, 2002

RSS Feed
Search

 
powered by FreeFind