MisShapes Is Moving to Don Hill’s

You’ve heard the rumors, but now it’s confirmed: MisShapes is moving to Don Hill’s starting this week! So don’t be showing up at Luke and Leroy’s ’cause it’s just gonna be you and some confused New Jersey teens standing outside. The MisShapes crew is psyched about this move because Don Hill’s holds a special place in their hearts–it’s the venue where the fierce trio first met. Adorable. Check out this week’s flyer:

MisShapes is Movin'!

Oh, and speaking of MisShapes, I was checking out the Dec/January issue of ELLEGirl that I got in the giveaway bag from the party at Webster Hall (BECAUSE I LOVE TEEN MAGAZINES), and who is featured in the “Behind the Music” story but Ms. Leigh Lezark! But she wasn’t the only familiar face I saw…across from here was a photo of the stunning rock writer Elizabeth Goodman, who I knew when she was just beautiful Lizzie from apt 3A. What the bio about her didn’t reveal is that Lizzie used to be a school teacher. Can you imagine having such a looker wrangling a bunch of tykes? Talk about hot for teacher (you, not the kids)!

I <3 U. I H8 U. When Text Messaging Takes a Turn for the Worst

I absolutely love this article by Sandra Barron that appeared in the NY Times “Modern Love” section about the rise and fall of a relationship…all via text message. When I forwarded it to some of my friends, they loved it too…although for some of them the story line was a little too close for comfort.

The Hipster Slave Trade

BEAT ROYALTY CALLS IT THE “HIPSTER SLAVE TRADE.” BEAT ROYALTY IS RIGHT.

New article in the New York Times informs us that both Vice magazine and The Strokes are “cool” and “hip.” It’s hard to count on how many levels this particular article makes us want to grab a bucket and vomit up all of our Thanksgiving weekend meals.

We guess this article works if you actually believe that rubbing elbows with Jack Black is something to write home about or bringing home a deck signed by a shitty band is somehow awesome. We’d like to write a companion piece called “How I Was a Retarded Wannabe In My Youth” or “Getting Paid Money for Doing Work Rocks Harder than Acting Like a Jackass All Summer” or “How I Broke Into the Business of Making No Dinero for Life Because I Thought Being Cool Was Enough” or “How I Spent My Summer Sleeping On My Girlfriend’s Couch Because I’m Poor… Until She Dumped Me.”

Didn’t anyone ever read Catcher in the Rye? THE ARTICLE IN QUESTION: “The Intern as Hipster” by Sarah Schmidt.

Guitar Solos at a Rock Concert? Noooo! It Can’t Be True

Um, Abby just made me read The Strokes/White Stripes review I linked from the New York Times and.. um… is it just us, or has this person never been to a concert before?

Coming Home on Crutches and Filling Radio City
By KELEFA SANNEH

“Come on, just cheer, make us feel good,” Julian Casablancas said on Thursday night, and if the request was unnecessary, the attitude of bleary petulance was nevertheless charming. “I’ve never been in here,” he said, glancing around at Radio City Music Hall. “It’s nice.”

The Strokes, the New York band led by Mr. Casablancas, made their debut last fall with a superb half-hour disc called “Is This It” (RCA). The group has been touring the world ever since, playing concerts that don’t last much longer than the album. Thursday’s sold-out performance was another victorious homecoming and more evidence that the Strokes are one of the country’s best rock ‘n’ roll bands.

Mr. Casablancas recently injured his knee, so he hobbled onstage with crutches, tossed them aside and sat down at a microphone. Maybe he’s onto something: although his band likes to play simple, anxious riffs, Mr. Casablancas often croons in a languorous voice that evokes a drunk (and slightly belligerent) lounge singer; being seated only heightened the effect.

The group has a knack for squeezing several tunes into one song. The two guitarists often play jagged, interlocking parts while the bassist adds a more propulsive countermelody, and Mr. Casablancas often sings along with one instrument during the verse and another during the chorus.

There were a few guitar solos, but the band is more interested in creating the perfect break, when almost everything stops and one or two instruments keep going. In “Barely Legal,” there was a moment just before the chorus when the band stopped abruptly, and the guitars played one chord for four bars, accompanied by blinding white lights. The anthemic chorus that followed was almost anticlimactic.

The Strokes have always understood the power of the offbeat, and one of the new songs suggested an intriguing new direction for the group. The chorus sounded familiar enough � Mr. Casablancas sang, “I never needed anybody” � but the accompaniment was a surprise: a reggae guitar line.

The Strokes’ current single is “Someday,” a nearly perfect song about a lover who’s not quite devoted enough to feel nostalgic. “Alone we stand, together we fall apart,” Mr. Casablancas sang, reaching for one of the highest notes he hit all night. But by the next line, he had returned to his usual range, and the old ambivalence was back, too: “Yeah, I think I’ll be all right.”

The opening act was the White Stripes, a Detroit-based duo that has earned almost as much acclaim as the Strokes. The singer and guitarist Jack White kept referring to the drummer as “my older sister Meg,” even though nobody believes they’re really siblings. (They are widely reported to be a divorced couple.)

The performance was so messy it almost seemed like a rehearsal, with Mr. White creating squalls of guitar noise that loosely corresponded to Ms. White’s simple drum patterns. He delivered most of the lyrics in a Led Zeppelin shriek, but during quieter moments the group sounded more mysterious and more urgent. He sang “We’re Going to Be Friends” from the group’s current album, “White Blood Cells” (Third Man/V2), in a voice so gentle and affectionate that one suspected he was hiding a monstrous secret.

The New York Times Can’t Tell the Strokes and the White Stripes Apart

*Snort* I still find this funny. The Times sucking it up big time. Oh the irony of the mixup!:

The picture caption on Thursday with the Pop Life column, about bands that are bringing new energy to rock ‘n’ roll, referred incorrectly to a highly regarded recording by the White Stripes, which is in the forefront of the movement. It is “White Blood Cells,” not “Is This It,” and it is the group’s third album, not its first. “Is This It,” as the column noted, is the first album by the band Strokes.

Cast, “Desert Drought”… the singer sounds like Robbie Williams… and Saves the Day.. that Funeral song or whatever it is… are these kids out of high school yet? I saw the vid last night and I kept thinking of Ben Lee or something.

And I don’t know what this is… but it’s an odd design for a site basically about porn.

The Strokes, “When It Started” is on NME Radio right now. Excellent.

And no matter what anyone says, Starsailor is quite good. Even if “Lullaby” sorta sounds like “Happy Xmas” by John Lennon.

I keep forgetting… Travis loves NY… and NY loves Travis.

Coldplay just updated…. Wonder if they are going to do the cover of “Here Comes The Sun” in New York next week…

THE COLDPLAY COUNTDOWN:… 3 MORE DAYS UNTIL CHRIS, GUY, WILL AND JONNY.

Who Wants to Work for Plum Sykes?

I didn’t get the memo. According to The New York Times Mondays are the new Thursdays. That’s it- next semester I’m making Wednesdays the new Mondays.

Today in French class, we had to make up an imaginary French holiday to write back to our American friend who wrote about Thanksgiving. I made up “Parisienuvus.” It’s a holiday that occurs on 1 December every year. The Parisiens dress all in black, smoke cigarrettes all day long at the cafe as they sip coffee. How is this different than any other day in Paris, you may ask? Well, on Parisienuvus they also hit Americans with baguettes. Repeatedly… and effectively. It’s kind of like when you have a pinata at your birthday party- same idea.

As sad as it might seem, Toby Young still amuses me.

My professor just e-mailed me with a forward for a job description to work for Plum Sykes. I’m laughing so hard I don’t know what to do. In the body of the text, there is an address, which I believe to be Plum’s actual HOME address… and then her e-mail address. I’m really tempted to apply. It would just be too hilarious.

But after working at several fashion-heavy publications and just hearing about Conde Nasty from other interns and in the gossips I’m leery to become a part of that whole fashion scene again. I’ve been there. Done that. And god, are those people shallow and vacuous! All about the parties and the free gifts and the yadda yadda yadda.

And Plum Sykes! Dear lord. Just the idea of having to work with one of the most well-known fashion socialites is enough to make me vomit. It’d be intense. I’ll sleep on it. Maybe I could be the next Toby Young!