...and that's not a dis. Just go visit Jones in Manhattan. The former bassist for Pavement (and current bassist for Sonic Youth) will serve you a drink. Extra points if you are embarrassingly wearing a shirt that says "Thurston Moore In Training." And don't realize it.
Nice guy, though. And good Hefeweisen. Think I'm going to give him the City Museum disk today.
This year's ACL Rundown:
Definitely the most personally insignificant ACL in memory. No nudity (at all.) No barfights. No hanging with rockstars at Magnolia's at 4am. Just me, Mitch, and some great music. Highlights:
The Polyphonic Spree late night. Hung with Andy A, their publicist, and they came out in fatigues instead of robes. Chatted up a very cute girl at the bar, had a few beers, they played "Lithium," I yelled like I was seeing Nirvana again. "Light and Day" twice in a row. Cathartic.
Sufjan Stevens, late night: Whoa. We only made the second half of the show, but it was outstanding. The singer/songwriter -- who I was never a fan of -- and his 20-something piece band all with angel/butterfly wings on singing songs that lull and sway and echo. Timeless. I'll revisit "Illonise" when I get back home.
Raconteurs: I wasn't floored when I saw them earlier this year, but what a difference 20,000 people make. Jack sounded better than ever, hitting impossible notes as he stood face to face with brendon, making huge rock moves and singing a version of Sonny Bono's "Bang Bang" that would kill a lesser man in a tragic ski accident...too soon? Pix below.
TV On the Radio: The new album's SO good. Can't wait to see it in a club. Most crowded photo pit I've ever seen.
Flaming Lips: I don't give a shit how many times I've seen them: When they unleash the confetti and Wayne smiles that bright, shining smile, it's transcendant. I want to be Wayne Coyne when I grow up.
Backstage Access: I'm a spoiled little shithead at this point. I don't know if I could do a huge festie (save Coachella) without it. And not for the vips -- for a spot to sit.
Rain: God it feels good sometimes.
Did I mention Mark Ibold is a bartender in NYC? And I went into his bar randomly? How fucked up is that?
Oh, and I'm listining to "The Information." But it's my first time, so I can't tell you how it is yet. Don't ask.
Oh, and I applied for a full time job in NYC.
Oh, and I also applied to ghost write Flava Flav's new book.
Oh, and...