Thursday, December 3, 2009

Schmoke and a pancake?

(cue loungey, spoken word vibration)

I've got this old school feeling. ::snap snap:: The kind that makes me wish I could turn back time with a quick tip of my Trilby. ::snap!:: I wanna kick up my heels and knock back a couple of highballs with my compatriots while a nice fella rolls me a cigar. Ohhhhhhhhhh. ::snap snap::

If you're thinking, "???" then blame my recent trip to JJ Hats for this swanky wave I'm riding. The only thing missing from my day right now is...well...the Trilby, the whiskey, and the cigar. But LO! If I can hold out til Monday, I'll scat and scoot to Cuba NY for gratis cigars, hand-rolled for your happytime. Although the resto's link is dead (c'mon, really?), the smooth times live on:

Cuba
Mondays 630PM-10PM
222 Thompson St, 212-420-7878

Viva, baby, viva.



Tuesday, November 24, 2009

11/22: COUGAR @ Mercury Lounge

Like a good stretch after a long workout, COUGAR's Sunday jam at Mercury Lounge smoothed out a raucous weekend. Chiseled out of wintry Wisconsin in 2003, COUGAR is the latest prog-rock outfit worth a listen. These five Madison natives meld two guitars, a bass, various electronics, and a drum set to create what they describe as "Emergency Rock": what happens when you take the efficiency and purpose of an emergency procedure and apply it to music. Yet the colloquial understanding of the term "emergency" does not suit the uber-chill nature of a COUGAR show. In one line across the stage there is no 'front man' in this sociocracy; an open format that treats the audience to an equal view of each band member. In one vignette, drummer D.H. Skogen is a-flutter with flailing arms, hand towels draped on parts of the drum kit, and the shudder of light bouncing off the cymbals. In another screen shot, Aaron Sleator jolts songs like "Rhinelander" with loops, defibrilator beats, and other assorted sounds emanating from his table-top setup of electronic goodies. Memorable moments include the crowd's exuberance when COUGAR played "Stay Famous" as well as the band's throwback to an older recording in which bassist Todd Hill roused his upright bass, unsheathed his bow, and rowed the crowd into audible bliss. The only real emergency is that the Mercury Lounge show marked the end of their six-week tour. Ring the alarm.

http://www.cougarsound.com/

Friday, November 20, 2009

My Dog Has Fleas

While Macbook Pros may be getting a lot of air-play, the humble ukulele wins in the "Cool Again" category. Experiencing a bit of a renaissance, this chordophone is actually a permutation of a smallish guitar brought to Hawaii by Portuguese immigrants in the 19th century. Relatively inexpensive and easy to play, the ukulele became a popular instrument among locals. Support and promotion by King David Kalakaua (yes, Hawaii used to be a monarchy) aided the usherance of the uke into Hawaiiana, as is commonly perceived today.

In light of the UKULELE CABARET happening this evening at Banjo Jim's, I thought I'd list relevant links:

Notable Ukulele Manufacturers:
Kamaka Ukulele (handcrafting some of the world's most beautiful ukes)
CF Martin & Company (most of the ukulele models are inactive and thus coveted)

Close cousins of the uke:

Uke-tastic musicians (quick and dirty list):
-Israel Kamakawiwo'ole (Hawaiian legend whose music shaped Hawaii and has been used for commercials and feature films)

-George Harrison (no introduction necessary, this Beatle was a huge advocate of the uke...and the banjolele)

-Jake Shimabukuro (Uke master whose shred of "While My Guitar Gently Weeps" belies the simplicity of 4 strings)

-The Ukulele Orchestra of Great Britain (humorous 8-person ensemble. Check out their rendition of "Shaft.")

-Beirut (great Balkan folk band. Watch Elephant Gun.)

-Dent May & his Magnificent Ukulele (recent indie act clearly infatuated with the uke. Review of his last NYC show)




Did I miss someone or something pertinent? Holler and I'll add the stuff.







Thursday, November 19, 2009

Wolfmother "Cosmic Egg"

For the past two weeks, I've been having "Cosmic Egg" for breakfast--the latest delectable from Australia's rock group Wolfmother. Originally a trio, the band broke apart (read: creative differences) and re-invented itself under the guidance of Andrew Stockdale, the group's original guitarist/vocalist. Hatched in January 2009, Stockdale assembled a new four-man band to bring his brand of bluesrock to life. Named after a yoga pose that tickled Stockdale's fancy, "Cosmic Egg" is a 12-course meal that jolts harder than any cuppa joe. Replete with riff-driven tunes and a healthy dose of 60s/70s psychedelia, songs like "In the Morning" recall a time when the Counterculture meant much more than the ironic haircuts and skinny jeans of today. Still, you can expect the expected from this band--often ridiculed for its mirror-visage to rock heavies like Led Zepplin and Steppenwolf--as each savory track includes the requisite guitar shred-session smackdab in the center. Fresh and playful, Wolfmother drops a couple surprises like the tastefully delicate piano accompaniment throughout "Sundial" and at the end "Far Away" for a grandiose finish. Overall, the album is easy listening for a new generation hungry for vintage metal.

Over easy, baby, over easy.


Also on Short & Sweet NYC.

Thursday, November 12, 2009

Fat Freddy's Drop "Dr. Boondigga & The Big BW"

Kia ora!

Aotearoa has given the world a lot of things: the most delicious lamb meat, The Lord of the Rings Trilogy, intricate tattoo designs, and my personal favorite: Fat Freddy's Drop.

Known for their funky horns, old school beats, and lead singer Dukie's smoooove vocals, the band's sophmore album gets a jolt and a zap from more synthy-sounds and electro-beats.

To be honest, I can't do the album much justice right now because it's hard to write while dancing and groovin'. The past two weeks have been full of my fave tracks which include: Shiverman, Boondigga, and The Raft.

Have a listen and wish upon a star for a North America tour.

Album just dropped today. Buy here.

Arohanui, baby, arohanui.

The Cuppa Chronicles

In the same way that some people say 'I only smoke when I drink,' I will admit that I only drink coffee when the temperature drops in NYC. There's just something comforting about walking through the city chill with a steaming cuppa. But as one drunk Dutchman told me while watching the last game of the World Series, "American coffee sucks!" Yes, Baz, American coffee does usually suck--save for the occasional Kona blend (no ka oi!).

This city is replete with java options and so I refuse to patronize Starbucks. That being said, I have encountered technical difficulties with finding the perfect cappuccino or even a simple tall one. I believe if you have it on your menu, you better have it. Silos Cafe will not agree with me as I went in to get a cappuccino and the gaggle of useless employees simply told me, "No." Fine. I'll simply uncheck you from my list.

So that you are never turned away, I deliver what will become a running list of decent places to get your bean buzz:

FIKA (another reason to love Swedes at this Murray Hill joint)

Rocco's (true it's a Village staple for cannolis, but this semi-tourist spot also packs a delicious coconut latte--picture above)

Keko Cafe (quaint sandwiches and a wide selection of teas and coffee)

The Mud Truck (from the MudCoffee people, now in transit in the W.Village)

Cafe Habana (forgo the long lines for the cafe, go next door, get your cafe con leche and smile)


Buzz, baby, buzz.

Friday, November 6, 2009

So you think you're a foodie?

I'm always surprised by how many New Yorkers are self-proclaimed "foodies," especially the chopstick-thin chicks who look like they might fill up on a thimble's worth of broth.

Saying you're a "foodie" has become a euphemism for "I once trekked to the almost-ghetto in Chinatown for hand-pulled noodles." Daring? Not so much. It just means you're hungry.

So how do you know you're a real blue-blooded foodie? Take this test:

Go to Daniel Boulud's DBGB for head cheese from France.

Eat it and report back to HQ...or come to grips with the fact that you'll have to reserve the term for real foodies.

Hold the cheese, baby.

Justin Nozuka @ Webster Hall



Following the opening performances of Elizabeth and the Catapult and Sam Bradley, fresh-faced twentysomething Justin Nozuka melted a largely female crowd at Webster Hall with his soulful crooning and easy-on-the-eyes looks.

Born in New York but raised in Toronto, the music of this half-Japanese and half-American wunderkind is a veritable melting pot: sometimes neo-soul and bluesy, other times folky pop. Nozuka's knack for blending --not burying--these styles together creates an understated aesthetic that is all his own. While acoustic performances are his apparent strong suit, popular tracks from Nozuka's debut album, like "Golden Train," benefitted from his talented bandmates.

Distinct and expressive, Nozuka's vocals maintain the crisp integrity found on his debut album, "Holly." One soulful track titled "Supposed to Grow Old" highlights Nozuka's humane lyrics brought to life by an unexpected emotional tonality. Nozuka's sincerity makes his music that much more enjoyable for an audience whose sing-along tendencies boasted for the humble and talented musician.

Sunday, November 1, 2009

Bia garden

Part of me doesn't want to talk about Bia because I know this place is going to get packed once people actually recognize the obscure down-below entrance to this delightful restaurant/beer garden.

Despite a clearly online-advertised location at 154 Orchard street in the LES, I walked past the joint a total of three times. On the third go-around, I finally found the rickety stairs that lead to a simple glass panel window; the perfect portal for Bia's employees to watch the struggle of finding their restaurant. Jumping on the speakeasy train CAN be fun.

Upon entering, I found myself in an ante room of sorts. "Here for brunch?!" asked a particularly chipper man who gestured to us that there was indeed a place to sit. Through the beer cooler-cum-hallway, patrons enter a covered "garden" with delightful wooden tables, a bench-lined perimeter, and empty cans of Cafe Du Monde chickory coffee doubling as utensil holders and centerpieces--hence his peppiness.

Turns out that New York brunch is an all-day event warranting a start time of "open to 4PM," at least at Bia. A spartan white cup of mahogany coffee sat on its saucer as I poured over a simple brunch menu: eggs in various styles, pancakes, steak and eggs, Etc. "Where's the rice?" asked my NYC-marathon friend. "I need the carbs!" He settled for a delightful omelette bedecked with Chinese sausage and a heaping side of yucca fries.

The meal was simple, delicious, and sunny (thanks to the translucent overhang). The only downside is that the place is cash only and while they'll tell you that the ATM across the street works, it doesn't. Turn left and walk to the corner falafel joint.

Have a Bia, baby.

Monday, October 26, 2009

Going Colonial: Rockin' Raw

Note to reader: "Going Colonial" will be a new section about Williamsburg. Other such names like "Hipstery Haven" and "Ironic Bangs-burg" struck no chords.

After a sunny but snoozy jaunt to Greenpoint for the Oktoberfest (cue: good excuse for beer outside), I strolled back into the Billyburg and passed Rockin' Raw, a cozy joint self-described as "live-vegan-raw-organic-peruvian-new-orleanian-creole-cuisine-with-soul-from-williamsburg-brooklyn-to-you." And it's true: not a single animal product will touch your puckered lips. Thrilling!

Sucked in by the promise of a backyard, I sauntered through the well-decorated dining area and out of the backdoor. You'll be pleased to know that Chef Mama Rosa keeps her word: the backyard is small and quaint with glass and mesh tables speckled about the off-kilter brick pavement. The daily specials looks delish and I had my heart set on the Lentil Chili but, sigh, they were out. So instead I got the house salad with fig-balsamic dressing and a "Maca-licious" Smoothie (Maca, Ginger, Apples).

The salad was a simple melange of celery, romaine bits, slivered tomatoes, and purple cabbage. It was tasty but not particularly mind-blowing. The fig-balsamic did give it a boost...or perhaps that was the effect of the Maca in my smoothie; a Peruvian herb whose compounds of macamides and macaenes make this a "libido-boosting" remedy. Heyyyyyyyy.......

The smoothie was the most memorable and I plan on replicating the deliciously libidinous qualities at home.

...in the blender, ya dir'y devil.

Maca, baby, Maca.