THE CULTURE WHORE

FILLIGAR AT GRAMERCY IN GIFS

Thu, 13 Jun 2013 12:17:50 -0400

Last Fall we met the boys behind the band Filligar at Gramercy Theater. Last week they came back to the big apple to rock the crowd once again. Below, you’ll find the concert in a series of GIFS.

The band is about to drop a new record, Hexagon, and we caught wind that they would also be pressing vinyls as well. Hold on to your record players, Brooklyn! The launch date is June 24th, and you can get an exclusive first listen to single, New Local, RIGHT HERE.

ENJOY THE SHOW!

How much to you love that little rainbow light leak while Teddy BASSMAN was playing?

Need another dose of rock and roll? Click here to read our interview will Filligar regarding Four Loko and barn parties.

Every Monday look for THE WEEK to fill your calendar with...

Mon, 10 Jun 2013 17:12:17 -0400

Every Monday look for THE WEEK to fill your calendar with Culture Whore-approved events.

WEIRD ASS TRACKS: "REACH THE DEAD"

Fri, 31 May 2013 15:10:11 -0400

“Reach for the Dead” is the latest single from Scottish electronic duo Boards Of Canada. Since the song was recently posted on Youtube, it’s gained over 600,000 views. This popularity was made possible by the buzz that the band built over the last month involving a complex mystery behind their upcoming album, Tomorrow’s Harvest (learn more about that here).

“Reach for the Dead” has Boards Of Canada’s signature atmospheric sound. However, uptempo drum beats make the track more energetic than their past popular songs like “Dayvan Cowboy” and “Everything You Do Is A Balloon”.

During the first minute, gently pulsing keyboards glide over an off-time kick drum. A progression following the E♭ minor scale soon begins, giving the song its melancholy feel. A little over two minutes in, arpeggiating synth lines emerge, building up to a blast of rich and elaborate drum patterns.

Unlike Boards Of Canada’s older material, which was based on lo-fi, eighties-sounding samples, “Reach for the Dead”’s hi-fi qualities give it a more modern feel. I love the new track and I have high hopes for the rest of Tomorrow’s Harvest.

- Eli Zeger

DISCO IS GAY, AND THAT'S OK!

Fri, 24 May 2013 11:16:00 -0400

When you have to wait upwards of 15 minutes for a urinal while women glide in and out of their restroom, there are three possible explanations:

You have accidentally attended a Promise Keepers rally.
The gender binary has finally—gloriously!—come crashing down and you are at the epicenter of a bathroom revolution.
You are attending a show that features not one, but two 9-piece live disco ensembles.

Though I would have been happy with explanation #2, the reason for the massively gay crowd at the Music Hall of Williamsburg on Saturday was emphatically #3. Last Saturday, the long-running art party/zine makers Spank played host to Midnight Magic and Slow Knights, two bands that both dabble in melisma, nostalgia, and live dance music played on real life instruments. I dubbed the party “Night of the Living Backing Track,” and judging by the enthusiasm of the (mostly gay, mostly dancing, mostly grinning) crowd, New York’s dancers were eager to leave behind the drum machine for at least one night.

Slow Knights, the new project of the Scissor Scistors’ Del Marquis, played a set that evoked early Madonna, 70’s roller skate jams and hi-NRG disco anthems. Del Marquis - who also answers to his birth name Derek Gruen - has stressed that Slow Nights doesn’t have a fixed lineup, but on this night they performed as a nine piece ensemble fronted by 5 incredible singers. Each vocalist could easily have carried the show themselves, but as a unit they were able to create harmonies that blew your mind over and over again. It was like taking a hit of poppers while listening to your parents’ Manhattan Transfer records.

Apart from their flawless sound, I stood in awe of how well the singers were able to balance their egos. Each had at least one song in which they were prominently featured, and each was able and-impressively-willing to return to their post as ensemble players afterward. Absent was the hammy one-upsmanship that I expected (and would have perpetrated, if given the chance onstage). It warms my heart to tell you that graciousness is a live and well in New York live disco, ladies and gentlemen. And as Alberto Cortes of the Crystal Ark shouted into my ear during their set, “Damn, these people can sing!”

Slow Kights played a litany of tracks from their young discography that alternately pulsed and swooned. ”Legendary Children,” the only track that featured Del as a vocalist, was particularly soul-stirring, which is ironic considering that his vocal prowess is dwarfed by the five singers with whom he shared the stage. The danciest moment of their set came when Xavier Smith took command of his and Del’s cover of Jermaine Jackson’s “Tickle Your Fancy.” Xavier is a performer that encapsulates Slow Nights’ charm: at once fun, intense, enigmatic, and accessible.

Midnight Magic may not have had 5 singers like Slow Knights, but their lead singer Tiffany Roth held her own just fine, thank you very much. Her onstage persona was reminiscent of Jessica Rabbit, if Jessica Rabbit were a more-reasonably-proportioned comedienne that really liked to touch her own breasts. Looking fierce and era-appropriate in gold lame, cleavage, and polka dot stockings, Roth commanded the stage with humor, charisma, and lots and lots of eye contact with the front rows. She can also sing real good, too.

While Slow Nights explored the areas where disco brushed up against soul and electro,Midnight Magic’s sound is firmly rooted in mid-to-late-70’s first wave disco. As someone who has always had a soft spot for this genre and has wasted much breath defending its merits to skeptics, the fact that they were able to elicit such ecstasy from the Music Hall of Williamsburg was in itself a triumph. Make no mistake, Midnight Magic’s octave-jumping basslines, conga backbeats, and relentless hi-hats aren’t breaking new ground. This wasn’t “Donna Summer meets such-and-such”; it was just Donna Summer. And goddamn if I don’t love me some Donna Summer.

Nearly stealing the show from Roth were the 4 backing brass players, whose synchronized dance moves and percussive embellishments had all the shimmer of Tiffany’s glitter eyeshadow. But they were more than musical accoutrements, as they proved when each member traded solos over a vamp for an extended period of time. Speaking of extended periods of time—did I mention that Midnight Magic played for, like, forever? Their stamina was a wonder of nature—halfway through their set I lost my dancing steam, but all nine of their members played and played and danced and played for well over an hour and a half. The only downside I really saw in Midnight Magic’s set was that it served as a sad reminder that this 29-year-old queen is no longer a Spring chicken.

And as such, I retreated to my home after just a few tracks from the always-spectacular Will Automagic, after braving another long sojourn to the men’s room. As I waited in the long men’s room line for the second time that night, I surveyed the crowd and once again marveled at how heavily it favored the American male homosexual. One part of me felt sad that the joys of a band like Midnight Magic is so much more well-received by my gay brethren. The joy of sweating to a good band, disco or not, is something that I feel like everyone should be able to get down with, and Midnight Magic are among the better live bands of any genre that I’ve seen. Was it the fact that they were playing Spank—a capital-Q Queer party—that kept the heterosexuals home that night? Was disco still primarily the provenance of gay men because of a gay bent towards escapism and imagination as David Halperin might suggest? I mused and pondered and finally got a chance to pee.

I decided that it was OK if disco remained, 40 years after its inception, the provenance of the few, the proud and the overwhelmingly homosexual. After all, considering that the show started literally hours after the appalling murder of Mark Carson, it was hard to get too bent out of shape about the sight of happy, free fags expressing and enjoying themselves so vibrantly. The Spank party and the bands that performed that night all represent my favorite elements of gay culture—Bacchanalian excess, meticulous attention to styles whose eras have technically passed, camaraderie, and fanatical devotion to style and sexuality, and if these vices are lost on most people, I say so be it!

Besides all that, I really needed to go to a good party that night after such horrible news. I think a lot of us did.

- Shane Shane, Photos by Dusty Childers

The cover of Vampire Weekend’s third album, Modern Vampires Of...

Thu, 16 May 2013 10:23:00 -0400

The cover of Vampire Weekend’s third album, Modern Vampires Of The City, is a photo of New York City smog in 1966. In an interview with Pitchfork, guitarist/pianist Rostam Batmanglij related the image to our current environmental problems asking, “What does this say about the future? Where are we going?”

Which begs the question: where is Vampire Weekend’s sound going, for that matter? On their latest release, the New York indie rock quartet molds an eclectic masterpiece with styles and influences from around the world. The band branches off from their ska and African inspired roots with Asian flutes on the energetic, organ filled “Unbelievers” and jumpy tribal mandolins on “Worship You”. They steer back to America with “Sarah Hunt”, an E major ballad that is heavily inspired by The Walkmen, idols of Vampire Weekend while they were students at Columbia University.

Compared to their self-titled debut and follow-up Contra, Modern Vampires Of The City explores more genres and has a more palatial sound, perhaps due to the fact that production duties were handled by Batmanglij (who produced the band’s first two releases) and Ariel Rechtshaid (who’s worked with a range of musicians, including Cass McCombs, Plain White T’s, and Usher).

No matter how different Vampire Weekend’s sound is from one album to the next, they always stay energetic and upbeat. Of their three releases, Modern Vampires Of The City is the most experimental and the most sophisticated.

- Eli Zeger

YOU'VE GOT MALE: WRONG ANSWER

Fri, 10 May 2013 17:24:02 -0400

My second OK Cupid date. Again, I arrive first at the bar. As I wait for Avi, I engage in some light flirting with the handsome Palestinian bartender. Dark hair, dark eyes. Copper skin, a manly, crooked dimple in his chin. He’s leaning over the bar and I can see his arm muscles bulging through his t-shirt sleeve. Nice.

It’s been about twenty minutes of this and dicking around on my phone, when Avi walks in. Young looking, average height, blonde hair. Even though he’s in a sweater and jeans, he gives the impression of a boy wearing his father’s suit. Mutual Hello! Friendly hug, jacket off, sits down on the barstool next to me. We start to chat. That slightly elevated small talk of a first date, where you can ask slightly deeper questions. And apparently, deeper answers, so I get a brief life story:

“I left home when I was 14. My parents were strict orthodox Jews. So I moved in with my uncle who let me sleep on his couch. Started working. I used to run a tech company that I started. Working 17-20 hour days for…years. Now I work for a different tech company.”

He says he doesn’t think he’ll be much help at trivia. Already, I have a bad feeling about this.

I finish my drink. Does he want another one? Not much of a drinker, he tells me. He does however smoke a lot of weed. Maybe we can get along after all. He hasn’t done many drugs. No narcotics (inner :( on my part). We talk about weed strains and after about 8 minutes run out of drug stories. Well, he does, and I feel uncomfortable telling any more lest I sound like a junkie.

Just when the conversation was on the verge of an uncomfortable lag, time for trivia! The date was my idea. I thought having some engaging activity as well as uniting in a team against rivals would be illuminating into someone’s personality and provide a more interesting way to get to know a person. Where you come from, what you do, what you like, these only describe a part of who we are. Our ticks, mannerisms, posture, how often you smile, how you laugh, are the things that describe you in the immediate, the things that can matter most to the people who really know you. And I soon found out, anyone who really know Avi, knows that he has a stutter.

It was slight. A little choke followed by a push on certain words, à la The King’s Speech, except instead of the distinguished Collin Firth, he’s an average looking young Jewish man with some mild acne covering his cheeks.

The bartender comes over to talk to us and refill our drinks, the three of us chat and I finish one of Avi’s sentences for him when he struggles to get a word out. He smacks me to the floor with a backhand and stutters out “B…b…itch…I…Never help…me…a….a…gain.”

Just kidding. We order more drinks and trivia starts.

As Avi self-predicted, he isn’t much help. I answer all of the questions in the first round, most of which I get right. He’s nursing his second G&T and I’m on the last quarter of my 3rd whiskey ginger. Go big or go home.

Second round. He answers one question about the formula for the area of a triangle, which I embarrassingly do not remember. But I do provide answers for all the other questions. Anyways, we’re not doing very well in the rankings.

The bartender slides me an unasked for whiskey ginger. We start chatting again and I can’t stop looking at the bartender’s dark eyes and white smile. Bartenders are dangerous, but I’m well-versed in their game. Bartenders are working for tips and that means flirting. They are also the closest thing to an authority figure a bar has,and I have a definite thing for authority.

Avi seems to sense that another male is hitting on his date and puts his arm around me. Ok, sure. A gentlemanly move like that is fine, nice even. Then he slides his hand down and rests his hand on the small of my back. I’m wearing a shirt with a low cut so its exposed. It’s an intimate touch that makes me turn and laugh uncomfortably. Still fine though, no boundaries crossed…whoah! He goes in for a shoulder kiss. I don’t know if it’s his two Gin and tonics, but the kid is making moves. He kisses my bare shoulder again. I look at him, he’s got a little smile that says “let’s kiss”. You know the one. As I always do when faced with this kind of conundrum, I think to myself…fuck it. YOLO.

Our facesare close, they move imperceptibly towards each other, closer, closer. Almost touching, I close my eyes and…

His fucking tounge is poking out. He’s trying to french kiss me. To pry my lips open and worm his way into my mouth. If you have someone who would be willing to act this out with you, do it. You can’t know what it feels like till you do it. It’s slimy. Just put your lips together, stick a bit of your tounge out, and poke someone with it on the mouth. That’s what it felt like. I shudder at the memory.

I pull away and take a big swig of my drink and chuckle awkwardly, brushing strands of hair out of my face. My willpower against cigarettes is destroyed. “I’m going to run across the street and get a pack of Camels!” I say, smiling. He responds he should get cash from the Chase anyway.

To the bartender: Don’t worry! We’re just going for a smoke, not skipping out on our tab. HA! HA!

In the Rite Aid line, I’m dazed, realizing that I’m tipsy which is a good thing considering I have three more trivia rounds to go and I can’t come up with the courage to just leave the date. We reconnoiter on the street and he tries to poke-kiss me some more. I open my mouth for a second, kiss him and pull away, making a mental note that that will be the last kiss of the night/ever. I try to keep things friendly, but the best I can come up with is a chuckle and “You really like PDA huh?” Lame.

We go back into the bar. Third round. All me, he can’t answer a single question. Onto the fourth round and my fifth whiskey ginger. There’s a picture round whee you have to match an author’s face to their book. No help from Avi, but I sweep it. Boom!

Last round. I barely notice the stutter anymore. Not over the damp, creppy shoulder kisses and weird hugs with his hand on my back. I’m waiting for them to tally the answers and imagining what it would be like if the bartender and I had an apartment together.

Avi, Avi, Avi. We lost. If this activity, trivia, is a litmus test for our compatibility as a couple, it did its job. Non-starter. I quickly think of an excuse. “I’m tipsy and I’m working in the morning.” Do an understatement and a lie equal the truth? Why not.

Deflated and growing steadily more grossed out by the lingering feel of a tongue poking at my lips and the slimy phantom lips on my shoulder, I go down into the subway and make my solitary way home.

Goodnight fair bartender. Wait for me.

XOXOX

Gigi

This is Chapter Four of You’ve Got Male, an Ongoing OK Cupid Adventure.

Lana Del Rey does full-on old Hollywood glamour (mixed with a...

Fri, 10 May 2013 11:04:00 -0400

Lana Del Rey does full-on old Hollywood glamour (mixed with a bit of ’60s Nancy Sinatra, of course) with help from an orchestra in the new video for “Young and Beautiful” her track off The Great Gatsby soundtrack. Will you be seeing Gatsby this weekend?

Watch Yeah Yeah Yeahs’ new video for Mosquito title track,...

Fri, 10 May 2013 11:01:28 -0400

Watch Yeah Yeah Yeahs’ new video for Mosquito title track, our favorite song off the new record. It’s super strange and awesome.

Monomania, the sixth album from art punk artisans Deerhunter, is...

Thu, 09 May 2013 14:37:42 -0400

Monomania, the sixth album from art punk artisans Deerhunter, is what it would sound like if My Bloody Valentine lent their Boss pedals and temperamental vibes to The Byrds. Unlike their drum machine and saxophone experiments on 2010’s Halcyon Digest, Monomania is all about dirty riffs and lead singer Bradford Cox’s raw swagger.

While the track “Leather Jacket II” has the musty aroma of trashed Levi’s fresh from the Salvation Army, Deerhunter gets rootsy on the country jig “Pensacola” and the bluesy “Dream Captain”. On the album’s title track, Cox rages over gritty guitar lines and booming drums.

Key Tracks: “T.H.M.”, “Sleepwalking, “Monomania”

- Eli Zeger

There’s always Euros in the banana stand.

Wed, 08 May 2013 16:59:00 -0400

There’s always Euros in the banana stand.

SKY FERREIRA INTERVIEWS DAFT PUNK

Wed, 08 May 2013 16:53:00 -0400

In the new issue of CR Fashion Book, electronic duo Daft Punk talk to Sky Ferreira (random) about their upcoming release, Random Access Memories, with an accompanying black-and-white photo spread that has the helmeted duo modeling a plethora of sumptuously sequined duds. Here are a few choice bits:

SKY FERREIRA: What’s the meaning of your album’s title, Random Access Memories?
DAFT PUNK: The title plays with concepts of computer memory and human memories, establishing a loose parallel between the human brain and the hard drive—both are somehow randomly fragmented devices. We have always been fascinated by the relationship and connections between man and machine.

What is the essence of the album?
This album is about technology going towards humanity, in a world where humanity is going towards technology. We tried to capture robotic emotions with music, replacing this time our electronic machines by real human beings.

You’re fascinated with the past. If you could travel to any moment in time, when and where would it be?
It’s a tough question to answer. Maybe witnessing the completion of the Great Pyramids, then traveling to see the remaining Six Wonders of the World, which are now long gone.

You have said in many interviews that dance music as a whole is suffering right now. Why?
Dance music is almost exclusively made today with laptop computers, on the same software, with the same virtual instruments, and a lot of the same drum sounds. Computers, as music instruments, are making it difficult for musicians to have their distinctive sonic personality, and a lot of dance records are starting to sound the same, in a very formatted way.

This album has been in the works for a long time. What is one of your best memories from putting it together?
Being in the studio with Nile Rodgers, one of our childhood heroes, was definitely one of the highlights. He just brought his guitar to Electric Lady Studios in New York and started to play. It is the exact same guitar he’s been playing on all these records and songs we love, like “Le Freak,” “Good Times,” “I’m Coming Out,” “He’s The Greatest Dancer,” “Upside Down,” “Let’s Dance,” and “Like a Virgin.” It was an amazing moment.

Read the entire Daft Punk/Sky Ferreira interview at CR Fashion Book.

- Mark Dommu

Gary Oldman is a priest and Marion Cotillard gets stigmata in...

Wed, 08 May 2013 13:56:12 -0400

Gary Oldman is a priest and Marion Cotillard gets stigmata in David Bowie’s fantastically weird new music video for the title track off The Next Day.

Grimes at Coachella, 4/21/13. Photos by Mark Dommu.

Wed, 08 May 2013 13:29:17 -0400

Grimes at Coachella, 4/21/13. Photos by Mark Dommu.

PUNK COUTURE: THE BEST OF THE 2013 MET GALA

Tue, 07 May 2013 16:03:00 -0400

Every year Vogue’s reigning terror Anna Wintour organizes the star-studded Costume Institute Gala to celebrate the opening of the institute’s new exhibit at the Metropolitan Museum of Art. This year’s punk theme was gloriously embraced across the board, making it one of the most memorable Met Ball red carpets in years.

Here are a few of our favorite looks:

Miley Cyrus in Marc Jacobs

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Amanda Seyfried in Givenchy

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Christina Ricci in Vivienne Westwood

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Florence Welch in Givenchy

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Kristen Stewart in Stella McCartney

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Rooney Mara in Riccardo Tisci

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Nina Dobrev in Monique Lhuillier

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Sarah Jessica Parker in Giles Deacon

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Blake Lively in Gucci Première

We miss Coachella.

Sat, 04 May 2013 19:12:09 -0400

We miss Coachella.

Photo

Sat, 04 May 2013 19:11:10 -0400

PRAISE BILLITH! There’s a new trailer for the upcoming...

Sat, 04 May 2013 19:05:00 -0400

PRAISE BILLITH! There’s a new trailer for the upcoming sixth season of True Blood! yes, folks, it’s almost time for the sexy southern vampires to return and you know what that means: lots of naked torsos. See how many you can count in this trailer.

WEIRD ASS TRACKS: “A DANCING SHELL”

Fri, 03 May 2013 16:16:06 -0400

Wild Nothing’s (AKA Jack Tatum) label, Captured Tracks, has apparently been hypnotizing all their bands into thinking that they’re living in the eighties. Some of their releases (Beach Fossils’ “Careless”, Mac Demarco’s “Freaking Out The Neighborhood”, and DIIV’s “How Long Have You Known?”) sound like hits you’d find on Rhino’s Just Can’t Get Enough box set.

“A Dancing Shell” is the dreamy first single off of Wild Nothing’s upcoming EP Empty State. The swirling track features laid-back spoken verses, like on Ian Dury’s “Hit Me With your Rhythm Stick”, while the slow-motion choruses sound like Spandau Ballet’s “True” overdosed on Lunesta.

I interpreted the lyrics as being from the point of view of a prostitute when Tatum as the narrator whispers, “Saw myself fresh out at the moon. And I sold myself so I can be a big star. And I’ll be your monkey every night. If it makes you love me, watch me now.” A little over halfway through the song, a grand, aquatically-processed saxophone solo breaks out over the hazy synthesizers and straight-up drum grooves.

The video compiles a bunch of trippy animated art pieces that closely resemble the album cover of XTC’s classic Drums and Wires.

I’ve been in love with Wild Nothing’s ethereal new wave sound since I first heard “Shadow” and I can’t wait for the new EP.

- Eli Zeger

YOU'VE GOT MALE: THE FIRST DATE

Fri, 03 May 2013 15:21:00 -0400

I am nerve-racked.

The Outfit:

Fitted navy tuxedo shirt: buttoned to show a tasteful but intriguing amount of cleavage.
Patterned corduroys that make me look ass-tastic…in a good way.
Fun studded heels.
Simple long silver charm necklace, favorite bracelet for luck, favorite earrings for sparkle.
Cut holes in shirt to show nipples. Just kidding.

Hair/Makeup:

Down, big, sexy curls.
Eyeliner above and below, dark brown, not too heavy.
Nude lips aka Chapstick.

The plan is to meet at a wine bar and then check out a comedy show. On my way, climbing up the subway stairs as I disembarked at 8th ave, I’m sweating, heart racing. I tried to calm myself with one of my recent favorite mantras: it might not be comfortable, but damnit this is what it feels like to be alive!

I arrive, awkwardly hovering by the front door and checking my phone so often it must look like I’m expecting a call with my STD test results. I smile at this handsome guy sitting at the bar who I think might be him. He gives me a confused/blank expression. Then, this guy comes up. “Oh, hi, you must be Charles.”

He’s definitely not a British soccer player, like I’d hoped from his profile pictures. He’s a skinny German guy with greasy looking hair, a high-pitched voice and oddly blonde eyebrows. That sounds harsh, but he seems nice, and we start to talk with no uncomfortable silences or awkward pauses where we fumble for conversation. Not to spoil the ending, but its pretty true that you know if you’re attracted to someone after about three minutes. The other three hours and fifty-seven minutes were just killing time. Of course, there is always a chance for initial repulsion to turn into passionate attraction and I’ve got some mathematicians working on an algorithm for the time/attractiveness/number of drinks equation.

Charles pays for the drinks, earning him gentleman points, and we happily pass an hour talking about the movie he’s making which stars people I’ve actually seen and heard of. Side note: This is getting less and less impressive the longer I’m in New York. Oh, you’re friends with Allen Cumming (hilarious name)? So what, my boss dated Quentin Tarantino. Etc.

As he talks, I try to think of appropriate responses without over-using the word “wonderful”. Then he says, “I don’t drink really, ever”. In my head there’s an exaggerated record-scratching-to-a-halt sound. This is a serious Red Flag. (I flash back to this morning, me gagging over my pube covered toilet because I drank too much at a casual TV-watching party. I made dip, and then personally killed a six pack of Magic Hat and some shots. Am I proud? Yes. Am I a little worried? Yes.)

He’s German, so we talk about Europe for a while, we talk about our jobs. He’s rich, which is great, really. But if I’m being honest, it’s a little hard for me to relate. Don’t get me wrong, I was raised very solidly upper middle class…but its still the middle. There are no boats or cabins or summer homes. There is chicken and pasta and potatoes and, on special occasions, crab legs. And also still potatoes because that shit is delicious. Mmm, starch.

Another 20 minutes of conversations and we leave the wine bar and go to the The free 11pm Monday UCB show, which is as funny as it always is. Charles shows surprising initiative in finding seats even though its crowded, which might only be surprising because I have hitherto almost exclusively dated men who are incredibly lazy.

Laugh laugh laugh. Our elbows are awkwardly close, I keep crossing and re-crossing my legs.

The show ends, he suggests we head to the Jane, which strangely turns out to be entirely deserted. Only a Guido manager and tired looking bar tender. I ask “Will you walk me to Union Square? I’ll catch the train home from there.”

On our walk to the train he says he’s hungry and we stop in a deli. He points at something sandwich-like wrapped in white wax paper in the cooler/counter and asks for it heated up. They say $2, surprisingly cheap, until a minute later he is presented with a paper full of hot deli meat. Maybe turkey, but it’s just deli turkey, heated up. He chuckles and starts eating the tepid slices on the street.

It’s time to call it a night.

An awkward goodbye and brief, clunky hug as I mumble something about working early. Deflated and disappointed, I head down to the train, my lack of interest/funds for a decent Brazilian dictate that I’m going home alone. I wait for the train, knowing I will never see him again, swaying just a little bit, because I’m drunk.

Better luck next time.

<3 Gigi

Chapter 3 of You’ve Got Male, an Ongoing OK Cupid Adventure

Yeah Yeah Yeahs at Coachella, 4/19/13. Photos by Mark Dommu.

Thu, 02 May 2013 13:10:00 -0400

Yeah Yeah Yeahs at Coachella, 4/19/13. Photos by Mark Dommu.