| Subject: Re: band |
| From: Barrett Brown <barriticus@gmail.com> |
| Date: 4/11/09, 20:05 |
| To: Christopher Koulouris <christopher@scallywagandvagabond.com> |
The first instance of Fashion Week to be held in the rising borough of Brooklyn was capped off with a similarly-incongruous after-party sponsored by our own similarly-incongruous publication and held at Red Hook's Hello Brooklyn. To follow is an after-action report.
There was quite a bit of discussion to be overheard on the subject of blogging, blogs, bloggers, the blogosphere, and whether there was still any money to be made in such things. The happy answer, it seemed, was yes; it was noted that the fall of newspapers, as distressing as it might seem on the surface to those in the content industry, was much akin to a tree which falls over and dies but which then serves as a platform on which mushrooms can grow. The tree, incidentally, is the newspaper industry, whereas the mushrooms are blogs. I'm paraphrasing a bit.
More specifically, it was noted that the collapse of the newspaper would provide an opening for online media catering to specific neighborhoods, and that several such outlets including BushwickBK.com had already capitalized on such things as real estate ads in order to obtain, if not profitability, then at least something approaching profitability. This is very reassuring.
There was, inevitably, some degree of Twittering going on. One attendee spent a portion of the evening following the Twitter page of some female microcelebrity who was, by her own account, just then sitting down at an Italian restaurant and was very excited to be doing so.
A couple associated with the Bravo program Real Housewives of New York one of the housewives, I believe, accompanied by a fellow who may have been the creator hung around the bar area, chatting with people and sipping on things. Both were very pleasant and polite, even to the confused and drunken English fellow who asked them how they liked working in radio.
There was quite a bit of picture-taking, and to such an extent that I am almost certain that at least one person was photographed taking a photograph of another person who may very well have been thinking about photography or perhaps Twittering.
The first band of the evening, Electric Black, took the stage at some point. Electric Black sounds like what Frank Zappa might have sounded like if Frank Zappa had been influenced by Frank Zappa and had actually been Tom Waits in disguise all along (I'm not really comfortable writing about music). The band went over its set, though, and thus their microphone was cut off in order to get them to stop. The lead singer retaliated by picking up a bullhorn and yelling about how someone or perhaps everyone was completely disorganized, completely disrespectful; he was then yelled at and given the finger by a couple of attendees. The band then left, which was probably just as well insomuch as that it was difficult music to which to dance.
The next act was an energetic young vixen who sang very enthusiastically about crushing her female adversaries in the field of competitive romance; I received the impression that, were another female to try to acquire the man that she herself had picked out as a breeding partner, she would take every available measure to rectify the situation and attain revenge.
Andrew and Andrew, the high-concept interdisciplinary creative team made up of two identically-dressed fellows with identical names, were on hand to DJ as well as to criticize things. I ran into one of them Andrew, I suppose in the bathroom.
This is without doubt the weirdest event I've ever attended, he said.
It's unusual, I confirmed.
And look at this urinal. Look how high up it is. There were two urinals; one was higher than the other. This is a pretty common attribute of male bathrooms.
Yeah, I'm not sure why they always have one higher than the other one.
No, this one is higher than usual. My balls are resting on it.
Well, maybe it's, like, a performance art installation.
I guarantee you that the people who run this place don't know about that sort of thing.
I was just kidding.
And look at this. He pointed at the pink tiling job next to the sink. I suppose he was opposed to it.
Yeah, a little gaudy.
But here's my favorite. He pointed to one of those Glade air fresheners that was hooked into an outlet next to the bathroom door. You can probably imagine how a thing like that might horrify such a person as this.
When I left, the members of Electric Black were still outside, trying to decide how to get home.
Electric Black,I just can't sleep, I think the whole thing was a disgrace. For them to act like that, for them to come after my publicist, and for them too for being very ill treated by the house and too some extent Rick Davy whose event who it was who never turned up.Who was missing? Jerry SpringerOn Sat, Apr 11, 2009 at 3:40 AM, Barrett Brown <barriticus@gmail.com> wrote:
What was the name of the band that freaked out tonight?