Gurtrudestein: Not a sit-down band

Last night I dragged Mattcarr down to the Second Wind MIDDLE OF FUCKING NOWHERE to see The Oddfellows and Gurtrudestein at what initially appeared to be parent teacher conference night. Seriously, was it parents night? The Oddfellows to started late because of "the game" but still played a tight, impressive set. These dudes always blow my mind but get better every time I see them. The banter was good, I like necrophilia jokes that make people leave the venue. Also, it appeared some of them decided to get dressed or some shit which was cool because it didn't look like some random guy just walked onto the stage and picked up an instrument. They have this new-ish song they've played the last two times I've seen them and it's about ghosts or something but it's reeeeeeeally good and I wish they would put it on their myspace. Hint, hint. AHEM.

Next up was Flight or Fight (their name always makes my brain feel like it's having a user error because it wants to think it's Fight or Flight but maybe that's the point. Stop mindfucking me you guys, ask first!) and Mattcarr said they kind of reminded him of early No Doubt. Quick unrelated rhetorical question- what's worse than Christian ska? Nothing. Ska is the most annoying thing in the world (even more annoying than steel drums, Dr. Bubastis) and then add Christianity to it? Oh man. Moving on...

Second to last were the Unruly Bangs. They're a little more sinister version of a lot of the bands from 2000ish that I wonder what happened to. The slightly mod rock bands, like Vue. But with a chick singer, and more impressively a singing chick drummer. They were fun and it definitely didn't hurt that one of the dudes has a slight case of the Jemaine (Flight of the Conchords).

There was a moment of panic before Gurtrudestein played in which I realized I forgot to go to Gaytar Center to get those fancy-ass "I can still hear you talk but I'm not gonna be deaf as shit by the time I'm 35" ear plugs, but having one less drummer changed everything. I've become slightly notorious for bitching about shit being loud and have upon occasion been internet fodder because of it, so I said something dumb like "so are you ready to get pretty seriously aurally raped?" to Ryan without thinking about that thing where "aurally" sounds like "orally." Yikes. But in all seriousness, they fucking destroyed. They played in the dark, barely lit by the flicker of the projected film clips that consume the back wall of the stage, made a lot of noise and a Sarah Palin joke. What else could anyone ask for? In zealous noise-rock, there is a fine line between being noisy and being dissonant. I'm the resident black metal elitist, I know a lot about dissonance, trust me. This time around, their set felt more cohesive and was enjoyable. One thing that really stands out about Gurtrudestein is their energy. They're not playing for the Matlock crowd and it's hard to want to sit down. Amy has a powerful voice, but doesn't rely on that alone. They all get so into IT, that it starts to feel like an unharnessable force. I guess what I'm getting at is seeing Gurtrudestein is like watching the Large Hadron Collider actually work.

They're playing again Wednesday, with The Oddfellows at 710 Beach Club in Pacific Beach. Check it out. I'll be there, trying as hard as I possibly can to not look like I fit in anywhere in PB.

As for tonight, the Saloon in Encinitas will be as dirty as always, as will I and my usual crowd of misfits (and maybe more!). Gabe Vega is spinning, Mac is filming, some other guy is taking pictures, and some other people are doing other stuff too. $3 well you-call-its from 8-10 p.m. (Jenni and I have to eat dinner and watch Gossip Girl so I'm def. not going to be there before 9:30)

I have to go shuffle around my house and listen to "Dear You" while I get ready for work now.

'stina.

p.s. If you're gonna play spin the bottle with Gurtrudestein, prepare to lose so hard it's not even funny.

Gabe Vega, if I put a quarter in your mouth will you play something I want to hear?

I haven't bitched about Dirty Mondays in a while, so it's about time. Last week Gabe Vega played a song by The Virgins (I think it was "Rich Girls," which is especially fitting because Jenni and I watch Gossip Girl before we go) and this week he played "Heartbeats" by The Knife. And like, other songs, but those are ones I like. I always try to remind myself to throw less of a shit fit because whatever he plays is better than some dickbag picking three hours worth of reggae on the jukebox but what can I say? I'm picky AND I have a sense of entitlement. Sound familiar?

Wednesday, homeboy's DJing over at the Belly Up and looks like I'm gonna go. Shit's free, and is being billed as "The Most Interesting Show in The World." Apparently, there is going to be all kinds of ass-backwards shenanigans like acrobats, fire-jugglers, Russian dancing and French burlesque singing followed by some band that probably sucks because they list their influences as being bands I like yet sound nothing like any of them, followed by Vega tearin' it up. Or maybe not, it is the Belly Up, after all. How the fuck do you DJ for the Matlock crowd? Three hours of Yanni? As far as next Monday, I'd like to hear the Trentemoller remix of Royksopp's "What Else is There:"


and the MSTRKRFT remix of Metric's "Monster Hospital:"



If someone feels like going out on a limb earlier in the night, Wolf Parade's "Disco Sheets:"



I love that video because it's not really for the song but is about gay clubs in London. Even the gays love the Krug! It's good and danceable!

In addition to hearing a song I like, our fun-sized asian lavaaaaah, Mac, gave me a purseful of stuff from the Lou's free giveaways box, which apparently consists of a bunch of faggy bullshit nobody wants. I didn't walk into the place thinking some hot guy that has 40 crates of records at home with his cat would just hand me a Jawbreaker box set but it's the equivalent of me handing out tiny gift-with-purchase tubes of bacne scrub and being like "HAI LOOK I GOTS U A PRESENT!" *coughGIFTCARDRAFFLEcough* He's my new favorite for trying, though. The one freebie I will gloat about is the best keychain that does not open bottles or shoot fire in the entire world. It's so cool I can't even tell you what it is, I just have to hit you in the face with it. He picked out rap-related shit so I could talk some big game about these dudes having "weak beats" but one of the fliers was for this cracka-ass-bitch that is putting a record out tomorrow and one of the guests on the album is Keak Da Sneak. I don't think I've ever talked about how much we like getting hyphy. HOLY SHIT. Here are a few of my fav. hyphy videos:

Sideshow:


Ghost Ride It:


Tell Me When to Go:


Shake them dreads,

'stina

I never wanted to have to do this

Tonight there was a fucking crazy fight at the Saloon. Jenni and I were outside, Megan was gone but Abby was inside. A dude got knocked out and shit got serious. I can't really say much more, because I don't know anything for a fact. What I can say is this: our hearts go out to everyone experiencing tribulation in a time that should be full of triumph, and nothing, NOTHING is ever worth resorting to violence over.

Christina

Area Man Discovers Horses Do, In Fact, Have Feathers

Dirty Monday was certainly dirty. I heard Jenni woke up still drunk with her cheeks full of Doritos like a chipmunk and Megan woke up with a few phone numbers. I just woke up with a giant-ass fro because I decided at some point it would be funny to turn my head upside down in the bathroom and shake my hair out. Oh shit. Don't get me wrong, it wasn't because I was hittin' the drank like I couldn't miss, I don't get 'faced too often these days. I've got my fair share of horror stories, none that would rival Courtney Love, but trust me, I had my days of stomping around Hollywood, not caring what kind of trouble I could've gotten in. I remember one time Walker and I decided on a "quiet night" that involved a party in the valley that turned into getting lost in the mountains before Walker sprung it on me that he had been drinking during the entire time I was playing real-life Frogger with Los Angeles mountain lions and was subsequently "kinda buzzed." Thank you sweet baby jesus for google maps and verizon mobile web.

Anyways, on to what is really grinding my gears today...

What is it with indie labels and apathy? The new Horse Feathers album is out today and Kill Rock Stars doesn't even mention it on their main page. Are they so painstakingly indie that they only update their website once a week and are currently too busy offering the fucking sheet music to the entire new deerhoof album when you pre-order? I recall another incident in which a band I like (31 Knots) put out an album (Worried Well) and everyone (Polyvinyl, Pitchfork, wikipedia) pretended it didn't happen. Oh shit, I should review it. Regardless of my forgetfulness, I don't understand this fuckery. It's not like these labels are putting out five albums a day or have tons of money to blow- what's the point? Why wouldn't they just make 8-tracks for everybody like that guy Aria from railcars? I know the point isn't to make money, but I'm sure the point isn't to run yourself into some stupid-ass debt hole over street-cred either, is it?

Personally, I would be throwing a serious party if I had an album came out today and so would my label because that's how it goes in the world according to Christina. I'd get like circus animals and shit because keeping wild beasts captive and training them to do stupid tricks is pleasing to me. Oh, and balloons. And a lot of whiskey. I don't even drink whiskey but I know all the cool guys do so I should too.

If I didn't have to go judge karaoke tonight I'd go straight to Lou's after school to get "House With No Home" despite the fact that they probably don't even have it. I lost Justin Ringle's e-mail address like a dillhole, when I say "lost" I mean it might still be in the cavernous pit that is my purse. I think I might remember it. I told myself to wait to do the interview so he wouldn't be touring and it would give us a chance to put our heads together but Megan said she doesn't really have any questions and I just keep forgetting. I'll write the questions tomorrow. Seriously, I swear. One of the songs is up on the 'Feathers 'space and it is lovely as expected and here is a video of a couple songs he played with a band (when they opened for Thao it was just him and Nathan Crockett, the hot barely legal violin prodigy) at some show I wasn't at about a year ago:

(careful, the sound is really bad and gets unreasonably loud at some points but "Blood on Snow" is one of my favorite songs and this is the only place on the internet you can hear it)



'stina

Dudes are psyched

I have got a whole lot of rant up my sleeves today but I'm not going to unleash it until later. Soon, you'll have the Pony Girl Club guide to talking to girls at parties. Tonight, we are doing some R&D at the Saloon. Yeah, it's Monday. Labor Day is just as dirty as any other Monday, if not more.

Video from two weeks ago:



Tomorrow is the Penny Lane karaoke contest, as usual. Not a lot of people are signing up so it's pretty much a shoe-in. There's money at stake. How does it make sense to not go? IT DOESN'T.

Thursday, our buddy White Devin is DJing at First Street in Encinitas. If you're into a skinny white guy in short shorts playing three hours of Pavement, hit it up. I'm just kidding. About the Pavement thing. Last time I made that joke he said he plays other stuff. I think.

Right now, I'm listening to this band from yee olde PDX, The Blow. I ran into my friend Rodel at the grocery store and he told me his wife got him into them (yeah, I dish on new bands on the produce aisle. Whatever). He also told me he feels kind of gay for liking them. He probably should, it's funky yet definitely kind of cutesey electronic stuff. Megan says I have previously grumbled and skipped past them on her pod's shuffle, but I grumble and shuffle past a lot of stuff. Why wouldn't I, especially after that casiotone for the painfully alone incident? Once, on the way to Round Table, Megan held me hostage in her car and played this one CTFTPA song over and over again and stared into my eyes like she was sucking my soul out through them. She said we were having a "moment." I just wanted some pizza, man. I just hate that guy. I think that's why the soul-sucking occurred in the first place. I even stopped mildly disliking Meathead for a minute to agree that Owen Ashworth makes Conor Oberst look like Henry Rollins.

Anyways, here's a video from The Blow:



Party time! Excellent,

'stina!

Pony Girls do it DIRTIER

Megan and I are in the Dirty Mondays video, as we should be. We get down like it's nobody's business. It's a metric fuckton of fun, EVERYONE should come hang out with us next Monday! I might even shower this time! OH SHIT!




The song our buddy Mac cut the video to is called "Hot Lava" by Kudu. Thanks to yours truly for that one...

'stina

Claws out: A back to school special

School started yesterday and when I say yesterday I mean my first class is today. I don't hate getting my edumucation or anything, I hate the fact that I should have graduated in May and probably won't for another 3 years by the time I transfer and shit.

The first day of school is always such a clusterfuck trainwreck that I try at all costs to avoid going. Hundreds of people who are just going to drop their classes show up to take all my parking spots (and will probably hit my car), fuck with my Mbox settings and then try to talk to me and above that, just piss me off. No, you can't borrow my 1/8 to 1/4 jack, MAYBE IF YOU UNTANGLED THE RASTA NEST ON TOP OF YOUR HEAD IT WOULD RELIEVE SOME PRESSURE AND YOU WOULD REMEMBER TO GET ONE. No, you can't borrow my sheet music, I KIND OF NEED IT TO SEE WHAT TO PLAY. No, you can't "borrow" my "dank loop." Wait, WTF?! YOU CAN'T "BORROW" SOMEONE ELSE'S WORK!

Also, don't tell me my Blublockers are "siiiick." They're not. They fit over my glasses dude, prescription sunglasses are really fuckin' expensive. They were also really uncool (which makes them tragically hip) for like two weeks, until some slut at American Apparel freaked out at Paul (from The Mistits) about them. Now they're about as cool as getting your throat stepped on by John Goodman. Apparently looking "cool" is important to a great deal of the population and there are two ways of doing that- actually putting effort into your outfit, like matching or wearing clean clothes or something or wearing your finest sexy pajamas and ugg boots. Okay, so, I am a total dirtbag and do nothing to hide it but wearing pajamas and ugg boots is unacceptable. That shit is disgusting. Seriously, you look like a freak. It's August in San Diego and there's no way your feet can smell like anything but a wet sheep's ass at the end of the day. Have no fear, gentle readers, I can help. Here is my morning routine that gets me out the door in 10 minutes or less:

1. Stumble around until in bathroom. Haphazardly brush teeth and wipe mascara crumbs off under-eye area.

2. Don't brush your hair, you're going to waste 10 minutes on a hairstyle that will look shitty anyways. Brushing your hair is like bangin' underage girls. Once you start, you can't stop.

3. Put pants on. Swat at the pile of black cloth and denim until you find some. If you can't help it, go ahead and make sure they smell clean. I don't. That could cost me an extra two minutes! *Sweat pants, track pants, pajama pants, whatever...NOT OKAY.

4. Select shirt. Band shirts are still acceptable as long as you aren't annoying band shirt guy. When I say "annoying" I mean it should probably be a band that doesn't blow and not every day. American Apparel is also sometimes in the clear if you make it clear that you are not an obnoxious hipster so much as you are just an old dirtbag. I'm into the summer shirt v-necks right now because I have a terrible personality and I subsequently have to show a little bit of titty. I mean, because they're comfortable and unreasonably soft. And fair trade blah blah blah.

5. Select and put on footwear. I keep a fine selection of flats and untied shoes by my garage door. You can tie your shoes while you're driving, quit being a bitch and suck it up.

You must immediately leave and can't look at yourself before you do so. If you look at yourself you might lose what I call the "blind confidence."

Speaking of dirty band shirts that I still wear because they are pretty offensive, here is a video from one of my all-time favorite bands in the entire world. The Murder City Devils.



The good thing about going back to school is that Mondays are still Dirty at the Saloon in Encinitas. Next week you should probably come with us, because we always make time for Dirty Mondays despite the fact that we are both up to our asses in alligators. Last night we left a little earlier than usual but not before busting some serious moves to Chromeo's "Fancy Footwork:"


and NWA's "Straight Outta Compton:"



Fuuuuck Yeeeeah! I love NWA. Hot Damn.

I don't really have any internet requests for next week yet besides maaaaaaybe this Trentemoller remix of the Royksopp song "What Else Is There:"


and just a little hint, we like to get hyphy. Just sayin'.


Ghostridin' the whip,

'stina

No one on the corner has swagger like us

I was going to put notes in Megan's post about last night's Dirty Monday but I realized people might not read them if they had already read her post and that would defeat the entire purpose of this blog. I blog to be validated. And pick up dudes. Whatever.

1. If we got up on your business, it was on purpose. Except for that one incident where a drunk chick slapped my ass and I made the mistake of telling the Slurricaine Megan so she slapped the drunk chick's ass in return. Gettin' down is a serious hobby for us, we have no shame and love making people uncomfortable! I also brought some friends from work that are not dirty hipsters and they had a fantastic time, so seriously consider going next Monday.

2. Mind-blowing DJ set. I'd like to see you top yourself next week, Vega. Yeah, that's an official challenge. While I'm on it, I have a request. Kudu- Hot Lava. Kthx.

3. Santogold doesn't sound like MIA, she hangs out with her. I mean I guess Santogold sounds like MIA in the sense that they are both chicks or some shit but honestly, the first time I heard Santogold I thought it was Teagan and Sara and I was like "goddammit those lesbians are at it again?" I hope they are releasing a new album soon and it's called "Songs to Lick Taco to." I'm just kidding, I know they're identical twins. Don't leave me a shitstorm of comments about how I'm going to hell for calling them lesbians.

4. Don't put a half-eaten burrito in your purse. It doesn't matter how well you thought you wrapped it.

5. Ghostland Observatory-



6. Puh-leeeeease go vote for Gabe Vega in the San Diego Music Awards. Also, vote for Get Back Loretta and the Emery Byrd.

We should be getting paid for this shit, we're basically jerking everyone involved in this event off on the internet. I guess they're lucky we think it's fun.

If you aren't doing anything tonight and like winning money and stuff, hit the Penny Lane karaoke contest. I'm judging and will yet again, be in rare form.

nothing snappy today,

'stina.

drrrty monday

In an attempt to be a slightly better blogger, I actually took some notes on tonight's Dirty Monday at the Saloon.

Note #1: The Organ "Brother"



This is how Gabe Vega started his set and I drunkenly shouted that every bone in my body was happy. This band takes me back to 2003 when I used to get drunk with this guy Jason and sit on his bedroom floor with him and sing along to the Smiths and he burned me a copy of their demo. They broke up a while back but in October they're releasing some new/old tracks. I am definitely looking forward to that.

Note #2: The gross

Christina wrote that. I'm not really sure what/who she was talking about.

Note #3: Santogold "Les Artistes"



Santogold is a rad lady who sounds kinda like M.I.A. I used to think she was totally legit but I've seen like 2 of her songs in commercials. I wouldn't be too concerned except one of the commercials was for a shitty light beer. Direct flight to I don't know how to feel about you city.

Note #4: Feist "Sea Lion Woman"

YESSSSSS!



Note #5: "Should I stay or should I go?"

At this point the notes start deteriorating because I decided it was time to dance. Fuck, I can't blog all the time. I'm not one to brag or nothing, but shit I got down. I was the dancing queen. Some stiletto wearing hussy stomped my foot and I think it's broke but you know what? I danced through it. Fucking awesome music tonight.

Note #7: Ghostland observatory

Christina wrote that too. I don't know man. I'll let her write about it. I need a shower.

the other Note #7: Crystal Castles=worst band ever

I guess we're bad at numbering lists. Whatever.

Tuck yourself in and listen to the song that got me back on my feet after I took a break from dancing.



Oh, and if we told you our names were Emily, Charlotte and Ann tonight, um, I hope you like the Bronte sisters? We're wuthering pretty hard.