Best New Music: Dr. Dog

They're hometown heroes and sound kinda like the Beatles, but if that isn't enough to make you fall in love with feisty fivesome Dr. Dog...perhaps their new album, Shame, Shame, is. From sweet melodies rolling off the tongue (of front man Scott McMicken) to blues-y, organic charmers, this is one rollicking romp through 11 emotion-fueled tracks, liable to make you feel warm and fuzzy and lost and slightly vulnerable, all at once.

Suspendered and serious (photo by Elizabeth Weinberg)

But don't take my word for it. Check out 4 reasons why Shame rules on the only site for such lists...Phrequency.com. (Ok, so you're still taking my word for it. Good thing I've listened to this record ad nauseam!)

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Journey through the lens...Eastern State Penitentiary

Some photos from my trip to "America's most historic prison" this past Sunday (at least half by Matt Davis):

(click any to enlarge)

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Neighborhood Watch: Since when are the youth all monsters?

No, seriously. It's hard to get a grip on what's even HAPPENING out there anymore, because everywhere I look, people are freaking out. There are FLASH MOBS! Children are running amuck, using computers (gasp!) and cell phones (double-gasp!) to plan giant GATHERINGS, which occasionally turn violent and injure people. But are they all terrible hooligans, as the commentators on Philly.com (who are these people anyway?) seem to think -- or just kids from broken homes LOOKING FOR A SAFE PLACE TO HANG OUT AND BUILD COMMUNITY, yo.

Honestly, I don't know what to think.

culture, yo.

On the one hand -- as a small, weak white girl (interesting how none of the news reports mention race -- they just let you ASSUME these kids were all Black) -- I feel vulnerable. I don' t want to be attacked and beaten by school children (who knew, right?) so I'm all for making them pay.

On other hand...I'm not that far off from being a kid (some would say I still AM one)...and I know how much it sucks to have no where to hang out. When you live in a small apartment in North Philly and don't HAVE backyards and giant rec rooms to play in...where do you go? To the streets! And when the street don't accept you...you bond together with your similarly disgruntled friends and cause...a RIOT. Like fucking MARTIN LUTHER KING JR.! You demand your rights, and fight for them. Or...you just hang out and maybe block the streets...then walk into a random restaurant on Spruce Street and punch someone in the head. Nice going, moron.

Street justice. From this site.

In the end, all I know this is this: flash mobs might suck, but the idea of the youth terrorizing the city is nothing new. Last year, it was this (15-year-old girls targeting women); the year before, something else. (Remember when a Penn student got shot at the Philly diner?) It totally sucks, but there's not much you can do about it...and for every fucker that gets sent to jail, there are probably 89798789 more right behind them. For now, I guess, I'm just hoping it passes quickly...and probably restocking on pepper spray, just in case.

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Seriously the wackiest thing I've listened to in some time

There are really no words to describe new single "Oh! Centra" by Javelin -- the eccentric Brooklyn DJ duo signed to David Byrne's Luaka Bop label.

So I'm not even going to try. Instead I'm going to tell you: LISTEN TO THIS TRACK! (available streaming at Stereogum.)

Now tell me: is this not totally WACKY? Like...even wackier than this?


...And possibly even this?


(I still say yes.)

Are you intrigued? Anxious? Eager, but a little terrified? I assure you these are all perfectly normal reactions. Hear more about the freakiness (and possibly get your freak on?) at Phrequency.com.

Booyah.

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When "pretty" is just so, so ugly -- A look at the Urban Outfitters summer sandal line

Urban Outfitters gets a bad rap around this town -- for mass-producing hipster culture and marking it up -- or something -- but as a poor college grad with little time to comb through thrift stores racks regularly I have to say...I kinda like it. I mean, Urban is one of the few big, recognizable businesses HQ-ed in Philly anymore (besides Aramark, whose biggest claim-to-fame is mediocre pizzas in my high school cafeteria) and...they make cute things! (Sometimes.) And so, with warmer weather approaching and my wiggly white toes ready and eager to bust outta their confined sneakers/boots (see this) I decided -- last night between The Office and 30 Rock commercials -- to take a look at their summer sandal line. I'm not sure "YIKES" fully covers my reaction.


But let's start at the beginning. I need something basic, I thought to myself, something simple, that I can wear all summer long. Something possibly... kinda like this:


Cute, right? This is what I would call your basic Urban Outfitters sandal -- made by Deena & Ozzy, a popular Urban designer, and priced to move at $38. A definite possibility! -- or at least that's what I thought at first -- but then I started to think: how would your feet look actually wearing these things?

Well, things being how they are...it's hard to say, exactly-- but extensive internet research has shown that it would probably be something close to this:



Yikes! It's like flip-flops and socks all in one! Totally bizarro. Plus -- you would think -- scuffling around in these guys...your ankles would get MAD sweaty. Gross!

So moving on. Since orange flocks (flocks = flip-flops + socks) obviously aren't going to work, maybe I need something different. Something that screams SUMMER and NATURE. Something that won't make my ankles sweat. Something more like....this:



Yes, that's right. Again, for the low price of $38, YOU TOO can look like MY GRANDMOTHER GARDENING or -- even worse -- one of those hipster chicks that tows the fine line between "eccentric" and "insane." Just what I always wanted.


Now, as a semi-reluctant theatre minor in college, who once costume-designed a production of The Metamorphoses (by Ovid, not Kafka) -- one subset of summer sandal wear I seriously considered is Grecian-inspired. After all, the Greeks were one of the most fashionable societies ever (nothing beats a sexy toga on a hot day) and have brought us many things we know and love, including: democracy, astronomy, calculus, and Chariots of Fire. So their sandals must be pretty cool too, right?

Of course right. Starting with this one:


Uh huh. Talk about Draconian! Again with the ankle wrap! Can your ankles even BREATHE in this thing? And what's with the one, weird toe hole? How come the big toe gets restrained, while all the little guys can wiggle free? WHAT TYPE OF DEMOCRACY IS THIS ANYWAY?

Not that this one (affectionately named "We who see baroque") is much better:



I mean, talk about major bondage here! Ladies and Gentlemen, for just $48, you too can have your feet bound in a melange of thin leather straps, which probably dig into the flesh of your foot with each and every step. It's an entire sandal made out straps! For the blister-lovers among us.

Not impressed? Think you could TOTALLY go more hardcore? Luckily, there's also this one.


Fuck yeah! Now with EXTRA bondage straps!

But moving on. Have a lot of money to spend on sandals? Want a big purchase, that will show your BIG splurge? Look no further.

For $128, you can effectively destroy all chances of ever getting a date again in these bad boys. Who said money can't buy love?

But let's get reasonable here. We all know that summer days can be HOT, and so much fabric and lace must get HELLISH. Perhaps you need something light. Something breathable, maybe something meshy...



Something like this. Oh yes!

Or how about this? A STEAL at just $168!


(Sometimes there are no words.)

I'm really not sure what's going on here.


Is this a sandal? A platform? Part of a go-go dancer costume? Where exactly do you wear this? What is the purpose of the little connectors between the straps? And if I wear this to one of my friend's parties, will they all stop talking to me?

And finally: for the budding ballet dancer among us.... this one:



$128 of designer goodness...that will make your foot look EXACTLY like a giant bow. Happy summer, here's my foot!

But enough snark. (for now.) While the Urban site certainly ABOUNDS with ugly footwear, there must be something I take a fancy to. So what would I buy?

Well, between you and me, I'm quite fond of these:


Too bad they're $88! It looks like it will be quite a while before I indulge in summer-footwear spending...hopefully by the time summer actually rolls around, Urban will come up with something more respectable!

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Best New Music: Dum Dum Girls

I always root for girls in music. I can't help it! In a world SO dominated by boys and their stupid skinny jeans and fedoras...girls are a nice change of pace. ESPECIALLY when they're actually doing something other than playing tambourine/ singing back-up. (Speaking of which: why does every indie band these days feel the need to accessorize with a tambourining hipster chick?) I mean, fuck it, girls can rock too, and that's why I'm glad I found the Dum Dum Girls, a West Coast foursome whose blissed out melodies have earned them a place in a long line of righteous female rockers, from the Shangri-Las and Shirelles to the Breeders, Bikini Kill, Le Tigre, Vivian Girls, and more.

DDG. Do not mess!

From fuzzy beach rockers to psych-tinged girl pop (with names like "Bhang Bhang I'm a burnout"), this feisty foursome will rock your world...and still look better than you in a vintage dress. And I'm ok with that, because their music is totally sweet! Power to you, girls!

Here is a b-side for your musical enjoyment.

Wanna read more, including deets about the songs? You know where to find it -- Phrequency.com.

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Illiterate Confessions

"Hey man, read any good books lately?"

You will never hear me ask this question. Mainly because I don't read books anymore -- or at least, I haven't read an entire book in over a year. Possibly 2.



Now I know what you're thinking here -- wtf Kate, what the hell is wrong with you? -- and maybe -- what kind of English Masters-degree-holding, editing, freelance-writing poser are you anyway? -- and to that, I can only say -- touché.

(Actually, I COULD say much more -- but you know. this is the internet, and things you put here might come back to bite you.)

Chomp chomp. (From Human Opium).

Anyway, I wasn't always a horrible non-reader. Quite the opposite in fact. As a child, I was a very good reader, perhaps what you might even call an avid one. (I've always loved that word.) When I was like 4 or 5, I would memorize books that my parents read out loud every night (One Fish, Two Fish; Hop on Pop) -- then go through them again and again later with a flashlight in the dark and learn the letters; later, in second and third grade, I always won tons of Chinese finger traps and little number puzzles from the library prize box for reading and logging obsessive numbers of books.

Remember these?

In middle school, I became a slave to the series...I systematically read my way through all the American Girl books...then Nancy Drew (kinda outdated, but whatevs), the Boxcar Children (I don't even know why; these kids were annoying as fuck), The Babysitters' Club (I liked Claudia and Dawn best), Sweet Valley Twins (like the Babysitters' Club, but with more melodrama, and kissing), Sweet Valley High (THESE BOOKS HAVE SEX IN THEM), and my personal favorite, the Girl Talk books, a near unheard-of series, which I swear to God just appeared to me one morning, in my bedroom, in the form of a large cardboard box containing 45 near-identical pink paperbacks--about Sabrina, the curly-haired, awkward spitfire; and Alison, who must learn to adapt her Native American ethnicity to a small town in Minnesota. I think the hot guy was named "Arizona."

I seriously do not know where these books came from.
Perhaps my cousin's cousin on the other side?

Then maybe in high school or something, school reading took up more of my time (shit like Herman Melville, and The Scarlet Letter), but I still remember being really into plays, and poetry, and short stories (shorter stuff that made me feel pretentious) -- and then in college I had to read sooooo many books in so short a time (3 a week, easy -- and we're talking hundreds of pages, Shakespearean English type of bullshit) -- and reading felt tired. It felt like homework; it felt like a chore -- and I stopped doing it. Except for for my graduate classes, which assigned the most dry, difficult reading of all -- and then picked apart every goddamn incomprehensible word for hours on end. By the end of it, I hated reading, and all it stood for. (Academia, I suppose). I swore never to go near books again, unless they were about rock music, or drugs.

The only book I have read since graduating college in May 2007.
(Srsly). I was inspired to buy it after I saw the author interviewed on
the Drug Wars documentary on Vh1.

Today, I read a lot of blog posts, on everything from new music to the news (ok, so mostly new music and the news. and also fashion. and shopping. and textsfromlastnight.com). Occasionally, I'll open a magazine and flip through the pages, but if the article is longer than 5 pages, forget it. I don't know what my problem is -- other than so much college reading left me burnt out. That and I finally have a working TV for pretty much the first time in years and.... well...I don't know. I guess I'm just lazy. Or maybe facebook and twitter have me so programed to digest information in short 180 character bits, that anything longer just overwhelms my brain, and it freaks out and shuts down. Yes, let's blame it all on the internet. And to think: I would have voted for Al Gore too, if only I was old enough to vote back then.

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Confessions of a not-quite-or-always fashionista

I probably shouldn't be writing this. I mean, for YEARS (well, 2 years) I ran a local fashion blog critiquing other people's style (R.I.P., Faceadelphia) --so what type of a hypocrite would that make me if I couldn't even dress myself?

For Faceadelphia. From our heyday, 2007.

But the truth is, dressing cool never came easy to me, especially as a teenager. In high school in particular, I definitely made some embarrassing choices which--for the sake of everyone involved--were luckily NOT captured on camera.

Except for this one. Yikes. Where did my legs go?

How did this happen? It's hard to say. I was angst-y, and rebellious, and ready to trade in the Old Navy and Gap Kids shit I had been wearing for years...but had no positive example to follow. My high school was a sea of Gap Kids and Abercrombie and Fitch (too expensive and too douchey) and so...I got creative. I bought tee-shirts at thrift stores (miles out of the way) and cut them up; I drew on clothes with permanent marker. I befriended a couple of goth kids on stage crew and figured well hell, if this is what they're doing, it MUST be cool. (No one told me stage crew kids are decidedly uncool.)

During this time I was really into boy's clothes; my favorite tee was an old basketball jersey I cut a v-neck into and a pair of baggy cargo pants. I also loved winter accessories--scarves, in particular, but also mittens, and hats and long sleeve tees -- and would layer up like a snowboarder about to hit the slopes. My sophomore year, I became so attached to one particular forest green scarf (vintage knit, from my grandfather), that my English teacher swore he would burn it if I wore it again. I wore it pretty much every day that winter.

High school.

At the time, I thought I was being cool and different; now I shudder to remember. But the truth is, for many of us, it takes a while to really find our personal style...and for me it was a long and tenuous journey that included forays into preppy, goth, punk, emo and eventually girly boho (if you can call my style that!)...with lots of hair dye and jewelry along the way. I remember the first time I watched America's Next Top Model and learned about silhouettes -- I went into my bedroom that night and tried on everything in my closet, taking notes about what colors and materials worked. I learned long hemlines were not my friend, that cinched waist are...and slowly, over many many years, I developed an aesthetic.

Me, sometime in college. Still fond of winter gear!

Now whenever I go into a bar and see someone whose style is just off, it pains me--mostly because I know how hard they are trying! And even though I'm comfortable with my fashion sense in general, I still have klutz-y days...where I accidentally wear the wrong sweater with jeans, making me look bulky--or spill half a plate of nachos on a white tee and have to change into the icky old work shirt I keep in my bag. On days like this, I don't feel like myself...I spend my time at work ducking around corners, trying to keep people from seeing me, and go home and change into a hoodie and sweats immediately.

Awkward sauce. Oh J Simps.

Perhaps it shouldn't have such an effect on me -- after all, they're just clothes after all, right? But I've always believed that clothes make the man...and nothing reflects poorly on you like showing up at a gig wearing last year's trend. And sometimes (yes, it's true) I'm late to work just because I can't figure out what to wear...but in my book, it's totally worth it. It's taken me YEARS -- but finally, I'm starting to get there.

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Best New Music: Gorillaz

They started off as a cartoon band. Well, ok, not really. They started as an idea in the minds of Damon Albarn (of Blur fame) and Jamie Hewlett (of Tank Girl fame)...then grew into cartoon...which grew into a collaboration (with Dan "the Automator" Nakamura and Del the Funky Homosapien)...which grew into worldwide dominance. Which is pretty much where we are now.

"Clint Eastwood", the first Gorillaz vid I remember. When this came out, I was
in a community theater production of Guys and Dolls and my crush -- a
pale, skinny chorus boy named Jimmy, was OBSESSED with this song.
I thought it was vaguely creepy, but cool.

I'm referring, of course, to Plastic Beach, Gorillaz's third full-length album and a magical ride through a musical wonderland...which just so happens to ALSO be inhabited by the likes of Snoop Dogg, Mos Def, De La Soul, Gruff Rhys (of Super Furry Animals), Bobby Womack, Little Dragon and this bad-ass singer you might have heard of named Lou Reed. AND MORE. And I won't even get into how awesome all the individual songs are now--but will leave you with this little video of "Superfast Jellyfish" (because I'm sure you've already seen the one with Bruce Willis, right?)

Oh Gorillaz, you eat me alive. Want to read more? Check out Phrequency.com.

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Neighborhood Watch: It's sneaker weather!

That's right ladies and gentlemen--it's the beginning of something beautiful. Every spring, around early March it's the same: people start shedding those same tired boots they've been sloughing around in all winter and opt instead for the SNEAKER, the always chic, always comfy symbol of warmer times ahead--that lasts approximately one and a half months until flip-flop weather (which subsequently lasts until early October, when boot season kicks in again.)

Seasons of the shoe: A pie graph.

I myself look forward to this time every year, where I can run and frolic like an athlete, seeming totally fit and ready to go as I fly down the pavement like Maniac Magee. (Note: I do not actually run.) Plus, sneaker weather is also tee-shirt and leather jacket weather, which in total adds up to one bad-ass image.

Some bad-ass chick. (From this site.)

This look is particularly popular with the art student types in my neighborhood and I have to say: they have the right idea. (There's a first time for everything you know.) Nothing says don't fuck with me like sneakers with tights (it's like business executive meets goth kid--two particularly icky types) and the oversized denim shirt just reeks of irony. (Because it's not like anyone would ever wear this seriously, right?) Oh hell, it's sneaker season. They can do whatever they want.

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Oh, what a world this life would be...

I've already confessed my undying love for Norwegian boy wonder Sondre Lerche; in honor of his show tonight at Johnny Brenda's, I thought I'd share this charming scene from the end of the film Dan in Real Life (for which Lerche composed the soundtrack):

This makes me want to do a tap dance! So delightful!

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Best New Music: Tunng

Unexpected surprise of the year! (so far). I love love loved Tunng's last album, 2007's Good Arrows, which, if you haven't already heard, you should DEFINITELY check out. But first, let me tell you why ...And Then They Saw Land, their brand spankin' new release on Full Time Hobby is pretty much my favorite thing in the world right now.

See this video? God, I love this song. This whole album is the kind of lovely, understated folk that often gets overlooked these days (unless of course you're Vetiver or something) -- it's moody, atmospheric and takes you on a journey...over the desert and across the sea, where chords are finger-picked and choruses glistening with the timbre of more than a dozen voices (15, to be exact.) It's breezy, windswept music for first thing in the morning or whenever you want to escape -- thank you Tunng for this little piece of serenity.

Want to read more? You know where to find it -- Phrequency.com

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Demographic Study: The Scene-cophant

Ugh, the scene-cophant. Of all the types I meet at shows -- or sometimes just wherever -- there's no individual quite as annoying.* Who is the scene-cophant? A manipulative player with a mind for details (or sometimes just an iPhone), the scene-cophant learns by lingering -- listening to your conversations or stalking your facebook page -- then picks an opportune time to force himself in and agree with you -- only to later use that bond to ask a favor.

Sound complicated? For the scene-cophant, it's second nature.

Crying because he's lonely...or listening intently for a break in the make-out
session, so he can finally ask the dude about the opening in his design firm?

Imagine, for example, you're at the bar, talking to your friend Ashley. You mention you have an extra ticket for the sold-out, super-cool, indie rock show that night because another friend bailed. What should you do with it? "We can sell it to someone at the door," says Ashley. You change topics. How great is the new Beach House video? A rando in a hoodie sidles up beside you.

"Hey, heard you talking about Beach House," he might say. "Love the new video!" He'll chat for a while, maybe compliment your taste in music before dropping the s-bomb (that's scene-cophant bomb):

"Hey, you going to that sold-out, super-cool, indie rock show tonight? I really wanted to go but couldn't get tickets."

What do you say and how do you respond?

Beach House. (yes, I am going to their sold-out show)

As a music blogger, it should come as no surprise that I run into the scene-cophant regularly, asking me if I can get them a job, as if it's my duty to hook up every awkward, sniveling scenester kid at the Bloc Party concert, without any regard to their musical prowess, reliability or writing ability (Note: it is always the guys who put me in this uncomfortable position, never the girls) -- but not all scene-cophants are so transparent.

Others might try to butter you up because you're friends with the band, and thus hanging with you means a possibility of hanging with the band, which means scene points like woah -- or because word on the street is you're the new cool cat in town, and they want to be cool by association. The more advanced scene-cophant will look up the guest list for any major social event on facebook first in order to determine who the major players are -- maybe even download their profile pics to their iPhone for later referral -- then arrive early to seek them out make friends.

Social map -- like facebook tags, only more judge-y.

The best way to deal with the scene-cophant? Tell them no, firmly and politely and make a hasty exit. Befriended a scene-cophant by accident and now need to ditch? Go out for drinks, then claim you forgot your wallet. Once they cover the bill, never speak to them again. Yeah, you totally used them, but it's not like they didn't do the same to you. Karma's a bitch son. Then defriend them on facebook too.


*although many come close. See also: the indie-dork, the WTTW, I-dress-like-this-normally girl.
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