Archive for November, 2006
Thursday, November 30th, 2006
Sarah won twice at the Paper Magazine Nightlife Awards last night! She won People’s Choice for Best DJ (Ultragrrrl) and Stolen Transmission won People’s Choice for Best Party. She gave her Best DJ trophy to Jackson and her best party to Los MisShapes. When she and Karen accepted for Best Party, she thanked Gurj and me, which was quite wonderful of her and prompted Gurj and I to high five over Lawrence’s head. And then I believe Gurj shouted “BENJAMIN CHO!” and/or “DMX!”
Here’s all the ladies lined up in a row.
Faran outsparkled even Lydia Hearst,
Sophia and Texas and Jackson and Geordon and Leigh all looked wonderful,
Quinn led the “dance on your seats to Young Love” revolution,
Gurj did not pee in the booth, no matter what this photo may lead you to believe,
But Karen did get more than a taste of “the world’s best tasting vodka.”
Even Max was there!
Faran was responsible for Sarah’s awesome Tsubi dress:
Fergie performed and it was sort of ridiculous. She didn’t come out wet, so I didn’t take pictures. Mario and I only got to catch up for a couple minutes before he had to run onstage to present an award. He made a comment about being so excited to see Fergie that he might “piss himself, right there on stage!” and I was happy that I wasn’t the only person who still thinks of the woman as the original MC Peepants.
After the show we hung around taking pictures for far too long,
And then we all piled into Lawrence’s car to go to Sarah and Gurj’s apartment before Gurj’s DJ spot at Revolver. We managed to fit seven people into his five-seater, cramming Sarah, Jenny, me, Casey, and Karen into the back.
Jenny managed to shimmy her way up front by the time the ride was over. Masterfully done.
Upstairs Casey got to see Britney’s vagina up close on the internet, and her C-section scar. Three days in a row, now, is it, that she’s been photographed with no underwear? When Paris Hilton is helping you close your legs because your vagina is showing, it’s a sad state of affairs. Especially when you have two babies at home, Trailerpark.
Monkey crawled around being everyone’s favorite, so I pet Bella for a while. But, um, I didn’t take her picture. Guilty. Maybe I’ll make them both little t-shirts that say “I fucked Casey Spooner” and they can wear them around the East Village.
So we went across the street to Revolver where Gurj was DJing, bobbed and drank to The Oohlas and Placebo for a while, and then Karen and Jenny and I went to meet Casey at Darkroom. There was some trouble with me at the door because I still don’t have a replacement ID since my wallet went missing. But then twenty people came out and told the bouncers to let me in, including DJ Gina and Diet Ice-T and I think Ian the bartender, so I didn’t feel as much of a dumbass as I could have. Karen was kind enough to wait with me. She has to replace her ID, too, since her entire life was stolen in her purse in the UK not too long ago. We’re going to try to coordinate a double DMV trip so that neither one of us has to brave that horrible hell alone.
After Darkroom I headed over to High Voltage to meet up with Anna and Geneva and Caitlyn and everyone for only maybe half an hour. I had to use Josh’s ID to get in because nobody who works at Sutra knows me. I memorized his birth date and address and everything. I am 24 years old, god damn it.
Tonight is Stolen Transmission (best party!) with Ultragrrrl (best DJ!) at The Annex (best nightclub!). Come join me and we will celebrate the bestdom by dancing like retards to some indiepopdiscemosynthhoptrax.
(See Nikola’s photos – always amazing – right here, including one of me and Julian being homosexuals, even though he’s straight, and so am I, and so was everyone at the Paper Awards, including Lady Bunny and Fabian Basabe).
Tuesday, November 28th, 2006
Mike Furey called yesterday to invite me to the first Room Service tonight (since Happy Valley is no more for Susanne Bartsch and Kenny Kenny). I can’t make it because I’m sick and only awake now by the grace of heavy pharmaceuticals, but you should go because it will be wonderful, and I am willing to bet half the people who read this blog are gaga over Mike, because you’re all fags and social butterflies. Click the flyer to see it larger:
Monday, November 27th, 2006
Friday I got to see Sarah M. for the first time since Halloween! She was in Argentina for a while shooting an Urban Outfitters catalog, and when she got back her party was on hiatus. But this weekend we were both drunk and met up at Trash, which was absolutely hilarious. We danced like idiots and Bronques captured us making ugly faces and contemplating the shelf-like butt of a hippie.
I don’t really get to drink much anymore, since I am always driving. But I did on Friday. And Saturday. Kathy’s brother Mike (who is now 21) came back to our house with her after Thanksgiving and went to Movida and MisShapes with us and Anna and Jake. Last time he came to the city he wore an all-white outfit of my clothes. This time he wore an all-black outfit of my clothes. And we drank Corona and listened to Hilary Duff and White Town and I felt like maybe I was a 16 year old girl.
Jake and I made Saturday an early night at two, which was very nice because we went home and promptly sat around in our underwear for thirty hours until we parted this morning at the Tea Lounge down the street. Leaving half an hour early to go sit there with coffee on Monday mornings makes Monday mornings not so bad.
So you know how I lost my wallet last week? Or maybe it was more than a week ago, I don’t remember. But it’s lost. And at this point I’ve given up on anyone finding it and calling me. I’ve cancelled everything and ordered replacements, but nothing has come yet, and I haven’t been to the DMV to get a new driver’s license. So I’ve been carrying my expired passport as ID in case I need it. I was fourteen when the photo was taken and it expired four years ago, and I look like a very gay terrorist. I felt for it in my bag on Saturday as we were walking between places, and it wasn’t there. It wasn’t in my pocket, either, and I started to freak out about having no form of identification at all anymore (by the way, mom, can you e-mail me a scan of my birth certificate so I can get a new license?), but we backtracked and I found it on the sidewalk on the corner of Spring and Varick. I’m a doof.
We had a crazy moment at Movida this week. I very much felt like pulling out the “do you know who she is?” card for Anna with the barely-of-age-himself door security, but I of course didn’t, because only complete cocks do that. One guy was following new rules, and she eventually got in but she was frazzled because nobody at the regulars treats her that way. She’s so sweet, and people are funky without reason sometimes. The regular doorman, though, is totally awesome. I would be saying that even if she hadn’t been able to get in, because there is a way to handle things diplomatically or like an asshole, and he was a class act.
Early notice: sometime in December I’m having a CD release party at HiFi on a Wednesday. We haven’t figured out which Wednesday yet, but I will post a flyer or something. I’ll be giving away CDs and maybe kisses.
And hey! Come to The Music Slut party on Saturday, I am DJing for your aural pleasure:
[Click to see larger.]
Friday, November 24th, 2006
Yorktown Heights, New York. Kathy’s brother playing that guitar video game:
Kathy matching his room:
Lenny being fat and lazy like me:
My shoes being rainproof:
Kathy being patriotic:
And then last night, Anna came over, painted my face and hers, and we pretended to be kabuki goth fags who ate too much food and had nothing better to do than be fat and ugly with feathered hair:
I cooked my own turkey today by myself after I covered and it filled it with a mix of ground basil, oregano, rosemary, tarragon, and lavender that my mom grew. AND THEN I GOT FATTER.
How soon is too soon to put up a Christmas tree?
Wednesday, November 22nd, 2006
Kathy and Anna and Jake. Having amazing friends and being in love. That my family is safe. Grandparents, because a lot of my friends don’t have them. Enough money to live comfortably on my own. Opportunities over the last year to take photographs and make music. Adult Swim on demand. My own laundry machines (thank the Lord) and my back yard. Computers and cameras and technology. The graveyard across the street. Penang curry with chicken and sticky rice from Watana. That I don’t smell terrible after not showering for far too long. My car still works. Good music. All the amazing things, parties, events, and people I get to experience. The prospect of the future: here, with business, with him, with them, with my own creativity. That the hamster’s little poops are easy to vacuum up when she somehow shoots them several feet away from her cage.
Tuesday, November 21st, 2006
Half the time I feel justified in being a crazy boyfriend, and the other half I just feel crazy. I saw him on the street yesterday and wasn’t prepared to have the talk I knew we were going to have, so I ran away. Then I felt like a crazy asshole so I called and apologized for running away. He hadn’t seen me. Double dumb. So we convened and talked. Do I deserve someone so stunning telling me he loves me? Last night for half an hour on the street I lived a 1940s movie. My hands shook, and it was easy to blame on the cold.
So, I know this is superficial to talk about, but I have nothing else at the moment that I can get away with saying on the internet, so… oh well. Most of the people I know are relatively clear archetypes. They’re the Williamburgers who live in lofts and wear the most dramatic outfits and makeup, spend hours with ceramic flatirons, and make The Sexy Face when a camera is on them. Or they’re the Park Slopers who live in brownstones and wear thin suit jackets, rich colors, and scarves, always have a to-go coffee in their hand, and make The Intellectual Face when a camera is on them. Or they’re the Downtowners in form-fitting labels and “look at me!” shoes, fresh from guest DJing in a basement, who turn away from cameras. Or they’re pure emo and wear black. Only black. Emo is like Goth 2.0. Goth with a credit card. Their camera face is Pure Indifference.
From the waist down in skinny black jeans and black pointy boots I am Williamsburg. From the waist up in a black and white plaid button down and sometimes black glasses I am Park Slope. My eyes still show evidence of last night’s emo eyeline hint. My iPod plays The Sounds and then chooses Peggy Lee on its own, but I close them both to hear Nightmare of You. I suppose the only things I am defined as strictly upon sight are Brooklyn and Black Camp. As in, Team Black over Team Brown (to gank a Kathyism). The brown half of my closet, mostly purchased and worn in college, has collected dust as it’s been all but shut out for a year.
From the neck to the pate I am a loser who thinks way too much.
I got a Shiny Toy Guns promo and it’s not bad. I saw them open for The Sounds last year and already knew a couple of their songs because my boyfriend at the time I think knew them personally and passed along some mp3s. Their set was interrupted by an electric malfunction and twenty minutes went by with no sound. When it came back, they finished their entire set, which was annoying because very few people wanted to bob their heads to the opening band for over an hour. But this CD has made me want to see them live again.
And P.S. – Sarah is my hero for posting this.
Monday, November 20th, 2006
This is my Lizshapes, who came to visit this weekend, and who brought some familiar charm to my otherwise cold and dangerous lifestyle.
This is me hugging Anna at Downstairsshapes.
This is Anna freaking out on my couch.
This is Kathy and Anna getting annoyed with me at the top of the stairs.
This is me being awesome.
This is Anna actually being awesome.
This is what I would look like if I was pregnant with a pumpkin and wearing dreamcatchers as earrings.
This is Anna contemplating my baby’s ridges.
This is me pointing to my butt.
This is Anna freaking out, thinking about pregnancy and babies.
This is what it looks like when I wear every necklace and medallion I own.
This is why my mother cries at night.
This is an actual shot from the 50’s Audrey Hepburn movie Funny Face. YARLY.
Sunday, November 19th, 2006
Surprisingly enough, I hadn’t seen Nightmare of You play live before last night. Unless you count this. Or this. But that’s the kind of “play” that doesn’t result in music, just Brandon being a tease. But Kathy and I hauled ass to Hoboken (yes, New Jersey) to see them play at Maxwell’s and so that I could shoot Joe (guitar) for something pretty awesome.
It was really awesome to see high school boys and fangirls singing every word and going nuts for them, and getting so excited to meet them. It made me really happy. I remember being that age and waiting around after shows to meet the band.
This is what Kathy looks like when she hears the opening strums of “My Name is Trouble.”
Sarah and the world’s tiniest NOY fan soaked up some hip New Jersey bench.
Okay, now, this girl… I didn’t notice until I inspected the photos later, but every single one of my crowd shots contains this girl smiling directly at my camera. This girl is fucking amazing.
For real.
I’m not even being sarcastic.
You wish you had the balls to be this girl.
Or this big gold elk outside the Hoboken Elks Club.
Balls, say, like these.
PS – Look at this awesome sweatshirt I had when I was 8.
Friday, November 17th, 2006
Malinda passed along this polaroid she took of me and Anna a while back, and I almost died laughing when I noticed Hannah’s head on the edge. I think Maldina’s “The Fabulous” caption solely refers to Hannah’s face.
The new Young Love video for “Discotech” has my ugly mug in it like five times,
and Sarah’s,
as well as Kathy’s flailing arms. Go see! And then go vote for it on MTVU.
I lost my wallet somewhere between Annex last night and my bedroom. I searched and searched this morning and can’t find the damn thing. I am a worrier of the worst kind, but I’ve managed to tell myself that whether or not I worry and get upset, I am still sans wallet. So what’s the point in being upset about it? I have to replace all my cards and I’m out of $65 cash, but I still have my checkbook. So I guess I’m fine.
I’ll leave you with this fantastic photo of Sarah and the NOYBoys from last night:
Thursday, November 16th, 2006
Buy Brad’s album Prior To and EP Bones With New Skins on iTunes, eMusic, Rhapsody, Napster, etc. To preview and to buy songs via Snocap, visit MySpace.
For an actual, archaic, hand-made and personalized CD of the album Prior To, please send $9.99 (suggested) via PayPal below. It’s twelve tracks, and includes free shipping to anywhere in the USA ($12.99 internationally).
1. Available
2. Do It in the Street
3. Two of Hearts
4. What You Know, What You Don’t
5. Drive
6. Discemo
7. Queen of the Scene (feat. Connie Walsh)
8. Freak Like Me (feat. Vicky Marie)
9. Who Needs Words
10. The Dream
11. Available (Polaroid Mix)
12. On the Run (Steven Frenda’s Stripped Version)
A copy of the CD, with free shipping: suggested price is $9.99. Send more or less, depending on what you can afford. We’ll see if this experimental idea works in the long run. It has so far…
And since this is the age of instant gratification, if you buy the CD you will very soon after get an e-mail containing a link to a downloadable zip file of all the tracks, so not only do you not have to wait to hear it, you also don’t have to convert it to mp3s for your iPod – it’s already done! And in the zip file there will be one or two bonus tracks that aren’t on the actual CD, including remixes of “Do It in the Street” and “Available” done by one of my favorite artists (it’s a surprise)!
And I’ll sign your CD if you particularly want me to, though I personally think my sloppy name defiles whatever I put it on. Also, if you decide to send $20 or more I will send you something awesome from around my house, like some shiny colorful rocks or an old necklace or perhaps a tiny painting. A polaroid of myself with a sharpie moustache? Maybe. A care package of my favorite tea and sugar packets? Who can say?
OR BUY INDIVIDUAL MP3s RIGHT NOW VIA SNOCAP (WITH PAYPAL OR A CREDIT CARD):
What the famous people say about my songs:
“One of our favorite new artists is the incredibly talented Brad Walsh, whose music has the pulsing vitality that Madonna’s early work possessed” and “Brad Walsh is one of our favorite electro rockers. This unsigned artist is totally tearing up the music scene in New York, and we are proud to say that we were one of the first to feature his music.”
Perez Hilton of PerezHilton.com
“A great mixture of electronica and pop. Reminiscent of the 80s while staying fresh and new … In short, Loves it!”
Trent Vanegas of Pink Is the New Blog
“Like a gay electropop Justin Timberlake that would’ve made him a Larry Tee protégé if he came to NYC circa Berliniamsburg. He’s uniquely delightful and a sexy performer that made me squeal ’til i couldn’t get a voice out. He, on the other hand, had a spot-on voice.”
Sarah “Ultragrrrl” Lewitinn
“All the tracks sound great! I think it’s genius, and I’m not saying that as some kind of empty compliment. Brad really has a knack for phrasing beautiful melodies, and the production is very cool.”
Recording Artist Poe
“I enjoy Brad’s music, especially ‘Available.’ It’s nice to hear someone write about something!”
Producer & DJ Larry Tee
“Brad Walsh is great stuff”
DJ Junior Sanchez
“Brad’s great!”
Recording Artist Mirah
“Completely raw, unedited thoughts put to music. Beautifully gross, I love his songs.”
Recording Artist Robin Stone
“Brad Walsh’s music impressed the dick out of my mouth.”
Articulate and Appropriate Author Joey Comeau
