Archive for July, 2005



Plain Parade is doing The Sympathizers record release party on Thursday at Silk City. Since I will be in the midst of packing (only 700 of 1000 boxes to go), Maria will most likely be running the show herself. She will be so lonely without me, so stop by and say hello. Or go because I love The Sympathizers and they won’t play for a while after this due to academic obligations. Here’s the best review ever written of them by Amy Phillips, now Chicago and Pitchfork-bound:

Fuck you, Ariel Pink. Fuck you for making crappy fake “outsider” music. Fuck you for ripping off Gary Wilson and doing it badly. Fuck you for running offstage and out of the club in the middle of your set. Fuck you for coming back and playing ten minutes of lame improv noise. Fuck you for having no respect for your audience. Fuck anybody who puts up with this “tortured genius” bullshit. Thank you, Sympathizers, for being good sports and playing after that trainwreck. Thank you for making fun of him. Thank you for playing clanging synth-punk a la Metal Urbain and Suicide. Thank you for writing the lyric “I wanna fuck you in your tax shelter.” Thank you for dressing like members of the original no wave scene. Thank you for being a Philadelphia band that makes cool music. May you never experience the city’s self-hating curse of failure.

July 31, 2005 at 7:00 pm Leave a comment

Packing Hell

I could deal with boxing up 100 million CD’s if my hallway did not smell like dog pee. T-minus a week before I never have to deal with the housemate’s gf’s evil yipping pissing dog ever again.

Just sayin.

July 29, 2005 at 9:57 pm Leave a comment

Who Wants To Help Me Move?


As many of you already know, I’m moving to 2nd and Reed from 5th and Catherine. To make things as unstressful as possible, the move will happen between Friday, 8/5 and Monday 8/8.

If you want to help, there are different jobs to do for people:
–Carrying boxes of CD’s, records, books, of which there are many (but they will be packed, scout’s honor!)
–For those blessed with physical strength, I have a few pieces of furniture that are on the heavy side and the new house has typical Philadephia weird windy staircases.
–Watching the car/truck/whatever while people bring stuff and out.
–Providing transport
–Patting my head and telling me it’s gonna be okay.
–Finding a friend who is strong, patient, and trustworthy who would like to help.

Those who agree to help will be compensated with pizza and beer. If you don’t want to help, no hard feelings. Instead, suggest a cheap moving company. The number of people who respond to this e-mail will determine if I’m going to get one or not.

If you can do it, drop me a line at saraATplainparadeDOTorg, and tell me what days you’re available and what you are able to do.

I love you all!

July 22, 2005 at 8:13 pm Leave a comment

Question of the Day


Do the Japanese imports sound Japanese?

This kid came into Stupid & Crazy with his mother. He’s been in before. I always feel bad for him. He’s about 15 but looks younger and awkward. He’s on the verge of losing his babyfat, looks quiet and kind of studious and is always dressed in some sort of school uniform. The mother has some sort of accent, Jamaican, maybe? The kid loves hard rock and metal, unlike 90 percent of our 15-year-old customers. ) He always asks for System of a Down, Black Sabbath, and Metallica. The old world mother (much like new world mothers of teenage boys) is eternally freaked out, even though we have an edited version of System of a Down and I don’t think the Sabbath or Metallica albums have much in the way of cussin. Edited versions will not suffice for her, and most of the edited section for Rock now consists of Blink-182 , Bowling for Soup, which our young music fan does not like. The kid is at the age where he’s trying to assert his manhood, his individuality, his own damn self, and one of the rites of passage is shopping for records yourself. He’s not a stupid kid, I can tell. His Mom should realize how lucky she is. The last time they were in, I had a 20-minute long discussion about System of a Down, and that she shouldn’t be concerned by the song titles, because they are a political band, not particulary misogynistic or violent. (Again, she should be glad her kid isn’t into rap because her head would explode). Then I called over my 20-year-old co-worker who had a 45-minute discussion with Mom, and the kid was like totally mortified. I don’t think they bought anything. They came back in tonight, and the discussion started all over again. Poor little dude. When that kid rebels, it’s gonna be louder than bombs. Duck and cover, yo.

July 20, 2005 at 8:08 pm 4 comments

Things I Found in the Rap Section


–Half a cigar and ashes, in the Method Man section
–A piece of gum that looked like a giant chicklet, still in its casing, just a few rows down
–Peanut shells under Salt N Pepa

Today was my first really challenging day as a Merchandiser. Stupid and Crazy decided to ditch the Oldies catagory (which was incredibly racist and abitrary, and only valuable to five weirdo doo wop customers who still live in their mothers basements). On top of that, we finally started a separate section for R&B, to answer the eternal question: “Where Da RNB at?” Or the other fundamental question that makes me crazy, “Where da black music at?” (Dude, how about every section of the store except for like indie rock, showtunes, and classical, okay?) This will also lead to lots more complicated racial issues and nerdy musical debates concerning who is R&B and who is Rock/Pop. Our customers seem okay with it so far, just confused as to where things are, and for once, I’m as confused as they are since my co-workers did the move late last night.

On top of that, we are getting a visit from the higher-ups at the worst possible time when we won’t get any of the stuff done that we’re supposed to, plus all the stuff you’re supposed to do when you know that they’re coming. So needless to say, it will be a very interesting week at Stupid and Crazy.

Before I leave you, a question: Why does no one comment anymore? All you have to do is register, which is easy and I don’t think you have to use a real e-mail address if privacy is an issue. Maria and I had to switch to this program because it was better at keeping spam out. Seriously, I miss your comments.

If you’re coming to my show tomorrow, get there before 11 so you have a place to sit. The whole thing is a half hour tops, so if you amble in whenever you will miss our earthquake scene, and our drag Paris Hilton and Liz Taylor, Cathy as Charles Manson, Ricky doing straight drag, etc. After the show, I think my nerdy science assistant boy character (otherwise known as Goober from The Office Show) will do Devo’s “Satisfaction,” in robot, geekoid spazz style.

July 19, 2005 at 9:01 pm 6 comments

Dumpsta Players on Wednesday


DJ K-Tell & The Dumpsta’ Players


Bob and Barbara’s
1509 South St.

retro, disco, funk, rock, cheese
golden honey, just a touch…
I’m the sole Survivor!


What happens when a rich girl reality
TV starlet wanders into a hott L.A.
Club called Botox? Drama, Darling!
Of course, some girls, like Dr.
Felicity Foster, work endless
overtime hours as a seismologist
trying to stop the tremoring earth.
Watch out when these seemingly
unrelated women collide-with a man
as the arguing point!
But beware, Miss Paris…there are
stalkers everywhere-and they’re all
in love with you-especially nutcase
soldiers who are influenced by Charles
Don’t miss the exciting conclusion
when Zsa Zsa Gabor, Liz Taylor and
many more suffer the biggest L.A.
earthquake yet!!!

Hold your breath, drop, and roll cause-

“Pari$$$ Is Burning”!

July 19, 2005 at 12:21 am Leave a comment

We Are The Ones!


Image from Corpus Christi

I like going to see Ken because those girls look like they are having so much fun, and each show is an event. For this one they dressed up like nuns (including the boy drummer), and Lauren (Bad Cop) even had a ruler. They gave out Sweet Tarts with some crazy Catholic shit on it and I yelled that I wanted to eat the body of Christ. Unfortunately, I wrote this retarded preview in my Daily News column (which is always retarded) where I accidentally aged Camille from Beretta 76 as being over 30 when she doesn’t turn 30 until November. I was trying to make some point about how the 30s/40s rock chicks in town share a similar, no bullshit sensibility, since the rock scene isn’t the most welcoming place to women over 30 and the feeling is mutual. Women drop out of it much earlier than the men. Perhaps they come to their senses much sooner (unlike me). This is not just my spin on things, I’ve heard this from lots of women. I’m still in denial about how pathetic my lifestyle is. So needless to say, I was very embarrassed to see Camille, who will be super hot at any age. I think I just wrongly assumed that she was closer to my age because she hangs out with Alex and lotsa mutual friends of ours in that age range.

But then Camille and I got up and sang “One Way Or Another” with the Hungry Samoans punk rock karaoke band. It was hard to hear myself because it was way too loud and I don’t have the strongest voice in the world. I only seem to have a big loud mouth when I’m saying inappropriate things to people. It was good that she was there with me since she’s used to screaming over guitars. She apologized to me later for “stealing my thunder” and I thought she was talking about the fact that she totally out-sings me (which is why she sings in bands and I promote them), but actually, she was apologizing for flashing her boobs.

Later on I tried to go solo by doing The Avengers’ “We Are The One” but I wasn’t sure where to come in so I finished the song early, and then just made up a bunch of stuff. I put my leg up on the amp like pre-lipo Hollywood freakout Courtney Love and everyone saw my boring white underwear. There are going to be photos of this and other punks in drublic on the Ken website soon.

My fantasy klassic punk rock karaoke songs are: The Adverts’ “One Chord Wonders,” The Saints’ “Stranded,” Eddie & The Hot Rods’ “Teenage Depression,” The Stooges’ “1969,” Devo’s version of “Satisfaction,” The Electric Eels’ “Agitated,” the list goes on and on. If I could really sing 11 octaves then my Karoake Choice Number One would be X-Ray Spex, naturally. Probably “Identity” or “I Am A Poseur.”

July 19, 2005 at 12:01 am 2 comments

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