re:verse : Edie Sedgwick’s “The Siege of the Warwick”

TK:LA

I guess I should call this, “The Siege of The Warwick…”

but, left alone with a substantial supply of speed I forgot that I was heavily addicted to barbiturates and I started having strange compulsive behavior.

This was after I was done, well, I was shooting up every half hour, every twenty minutes on the half hour, thinking with each fresh shot I’d knock this nonsense out of my system, this physical disability I began to notice, namely convulsions, which lasted eight hours, during which I entertained myself while hanging on to, head down, hanging on to the bathroom sink, with my hind foot stomped against the drawer, trying to hold myself steady enough so I wouldn’t crack my stupid skull open.

VMA Day 2013 – Four Butterflies to Watch #heylookamonarch

Soundtrek

Honeymoon isn’t even the furthest stretch of one’s falsified imagination when it comes to the Video Music Awards since 2010 #generous This year, I …. okay, I don’t actually know half of the nominees, and I might not have heard of 75% of the songs, but I can pick up a pattern from a mile away #universallaw #fortherecord

No one can predict the future, but we can recognize the present – and that’s good enough for me. Four butterflies to keep an eye on when watching the monarchy tonight… #theeverythingelse

1.) [T]he renaissance of Pop Art and a Warholian world of blurred lines between reality and fantasy”

Sedgwick Germanotta

[T]angent. Point is: Edie said of herself something that resonates so deeply with GaGa tonight, “if you just listened to what I had to say it was sane, but if you just looked at me you wouldn’t bother to listen. And none of them did. God it was a nightmare.” There isn’t that futility with GaGa, but the nightmare is quite apparent. Performance artists live their art — completely. The world is their canvas — truly. Where the art succeeds, the artist suffers, but it is for the sake of art — even if only for art’s sake.

2013:

2.) Jimmy Timberlake 

Why New Blood, Why Now? Nine Minutes with Morgan Spurlock

Interview, TK:LDN

2012-04-24-a179

As a bit of a Pop fiend, it was a pleasure to discuss New Blood with Morgan Spurlock; as a bit of a Pop theorist, it’s something of a marvel to ponder the nine-minute manifesto… 

Why New Blood, why now?

I don’t know if it was a question of now, or if I just felt like there was a need to show – I feel like there’s still this shifty new movement in the art space where the people who kind of launched this whole “low brow” art movement, this street art movement are now inspiring this whole new generation of artists; y’know these new kinds of Pop graffiti artists who are kind of coming up in their wake, and I find that to be really fascinating. You gotta think it wasn’t that long ago when low brow art and street art was being relegated to the lowest smallest of the fringe galleries, to now where these paintings are being put up in the cornerstones of the modern art movement. So I think to see where that ripple effect is continuing to affect, not only our generation, but the next generation of artists is really inspiring.

A Day in the Sweyepe… Curbside Jamiroquai says ‘Smile, Poor Humans’

Soundtrek, TK:NYC

New York has more culture in one sidewalk square than some towns have in their entirety – and it is the only City.

If only said streets could talk…

… they would lament the passing of footprints for Facebooks… former world citizens locked behind Windows… the death of the denizen in light of the digital domain… the detachment from nature, the self-inflicted exile from stoops and sidewalks en route to a metaspacial superhighway… the ever-increasing distance between neighbors, the inhumanity of modern man… the rapture of the human soul, the cavity of urban decay upon the human condition… the plight of used people in the midst of adored products… profits superseding prophets… and the bottom line suffocating the technicolor dream… the peril of the poor human – a requiem fit for the most divine of creatures, those most virtuously insane: the denizens

not for nothing – and never to be overlooked, nor forgotten – is the everlasting human spark… the innate nature of good

Normal in New York: Duane Reade, now Kitchenware-Classy

TK:NYC, Uncategorized

You know what’s normal in New York: keeping it real in the middle of a recession. Duane Reade isn’t Bergdorf-Goodman, it isn’t Walgreen’s; it is aware that you already know the state of the economy if you’re at Duane-Reade shopping for utensils, cups, and general kitchenware – so might as well have fun with it #miserylovescompany #mockerylovescommerce

Flexible Straws: Suck it up New York

read: “Flexible Straws: more flexible than the adjustable mortgage rate that brought you here” – because you just had to have that new set of cabinets in 2007 #suckitup

Unforgettable, Vol. 21: Lady Gaga – The Fame

Soundtrek, TK:NYC

lgrcfmlp

Pop: grab your old girl with her new tricks; if this were Gaga’s first and last album, it would be just as complete as it is in context as a dynasty starter.

The Fame is nothing more and nothing less than a perfect Pop debut through and through. Visceral, catchy, panoramic, reflective, progressive, chock full of hit singles, formidable filler, and fun; foreshadowing or foreboding depending on how you look at it – and yet, so very simple. The Fame is merely a skeleton, and the beats are nothing more than an atmosphere. In Britney’s wake we saw a sea change: where Spears’ genesis was plot-driven – a tale of a singer at the whim of heavy production, and a girl at the whim of a weighty world – Gaga’s voice is the fuel behind The Fame. She gives life to the beats, as much as she injected the joie de vivre back into Pop’s consciousness.

The sound is underground and mainstream, simultaneously past and present. “Just Dance” couldn’t be more straightforward as it rips the disco skeleton from the past, fleshes it out with simple synth layers, and slaps an electro-futuristic veneer on for 21st Century tech propulsion. The beat is a night out: airy synth, simple percussion, minimal layers, basic four-count – nothing crazy, nothing coercive, just dance music. The lyrics are universal: just dance, gonna be okay – and repete after moi.

Gaga is “that girl” from the club. This is the first step of the journey through a tumultuously memorable relationship between lovers, the celebrity and the scene, the artist and the industry, the author and the audience. It all starts with “Just Dance.” You just dance to get to know their name, you just dance to get on Page Six, you just dance to get that record deal, you just dance for reassurance that it’s going to be okay – and this is The Fame.

Beyond that, at first listen, “Just Dance” is any other Pop track, a brilliantly choreographed debut. It couldn’t be more literal, and at a time where the world is a collective skeptic for good reason – the truthiness behind WMDs – that clear transparency was a trailblazing mindfreak in and of itself. Everything the track is not makes it everything it is. It is not new, it is not groundbreaking, it is not particularly deep or profound – and yet, coming from a world of life under-rug-swept it was that very transparency that broke America out of its shell. Just. Dance. No more, no less, no hidden agenda. Before auto-tune and vocoders, before ice and chains, there was lighthearted, carefree disco – the most basic, infinite, constant, life stream of music by method.

Life in the Sweyepe: Electric Zoo 2010

Live, Soundtrek, TK:NYC, Vinyl Mind Flow

Nestled halfway between Harlem and Brooklyn lies Randall’s Island. This Labor Day weekend the islet transformed into a beautiful blend of Wonkaland and Woodstock, Sodom and Gomorah, Israel and Ibiza, Pleasure Island and Neverland – a hybrid between that Pinocchio place where lost boys find themselves and where Peter Pan’s lost boys aimlessly meander… all perpetuated by the most nourishing of all life fuels… music – electronic dance music.

Somehow, someway, the past, present, and future of music made their collective way to this halogen Haus of worship. My journey no doubt veered from the norm, but when  the clandestine is commonplace, all odd experiences are good. I was like a kid in a candy store – no matter where I went, there I was, with a sugar-rushed stranger and makeshift chaperone there to guide me along from one aisle to the next. Though the guide may not know where you’re coming from, or how to get to where you’re going, they know your destination. One second you’re lost in Manhattan, and the next you find yourself MapQuesting directions from the UES to Randall’s Island, and then you’re watching hipsters take cabs to Harlem bus stops – simple foreshadowing that no matter how far “above” those kids one is – no matter how objectively I scoff at their ways from a far more worldly and morally superior place – we’re all the same entitled Gen-Yers… making our way from decadence to debauchery by way of urban decay.

Needless to say, I had no idea what to expect: drugs, neon, iPhones, Ray Bans, Twitter handles, something, anything, nothing, everything… Needless to say, I got exactly what I expected. I’m not really sure when Electric Zoo made sense, or when I became a part of it. Maybe it was when I knew which bus was instinctively mine, the one that was  half black women – mothers, sisters, aunts, grandmas – and half NYC Prep understudies – twenty-somethings with extra time on their hands, semi-colorful cotton clothes in their closets, and the Shazaam app for when they need to Google if “that band who does that song from that commercial” is going to be at Electric Zoo. Those preconceptions and stereotypes faded as quickly as any sense of conventional reality in a cloud of smoke behind the bus.

We Are… 90210 #happyholidays

Soundtrek, TK:NYC, Uncategorized

Why look anywhere else than Vanity Fair for the encapsulation of all things braggadocio-on-bazaar (yes, including you Harper’s) on the most spectacular of all days? Happy 90210: it’s a celebration. Today the world is a crystal ball of fame: past, present, and post-apocalyptic – nothing screams Hollywood Kid like Lindsay “Can’t Stop, Won’t Stop” Lohan

VFH LL

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in a state full of stars, a wish only is a shot away from reality

And when she first moved to L.A., Lohan says, “it was very go-go-go and I had a lot of responsibility; and I think just the second I didn’t have [structure] anymore—I was 18, 19—with a ton of money and no one really here to tell me that I couldn’t do certain things … And I see where that’s gotten me now, and I don’t like it.” She says tabloids were her main source of news, and calls that “really scary and sad… I would look up to those girls… the Britneys and whatever. And I would be like, I want to be like that.”

but be careful what you wish for…

… because you just might get it #getit?

Re-Branding America: Jersey Shore no more, LDN gets it in-nit

Uncategorized

Bringing Ad a Day back like a phoenix from the ashes… much like the fleur-de-lis did this year; naturally, in an effort to polish the once lost treasure, New Orleans made it clear – with advertisements like the one below – they have a keen focus on waste management… read: after Mark “Brownie Hell-on-Earth of a Job” Brown got done with us we know what trash looks like – so take that rif-raff back to Jersey where you found it

The Gold Post: 100 Kept

Soundtrek

Finally, the century mark. It’s times like this when you recap to the beginning and where it all began. So: a playlist paying tribute to where it always begins — home. (Actually, I stumbled across “City is Mine,” and decided to put together a city playlist. It just so happened to be The Dime’s 100th post, and all the cities are hometowns — thus the easy spin about where it begins.) Either way, enjoi

Starting at the top of the map with an ode to our Neighbors to the North — compliments of their most hyped export since Jimmy Brooks