Lady Pills, Dead Stars, RIPS, Monograms Wednesday March 15, 8 pm at Trans-Pecos: $10
Another one of our own bit the dust– say it with me: RIP Shea Stadium. Now what? Get out there and keep supporting DIY venues across the city. And yes, that also goes for homegrown spots that just happen to be certified-legit, grown-up, and now pleasant after years of hard and risky work– never forget that these dudes are threatened by the looming, apparently totally arbitrary powers that be.
Casey Caldwell by Charles Ludeke; Claire Fleury by Alesia Exum; LACTIC by Thibault Théodore-Babin; TILLYandWILLIAM by Tilly D Wolfe (image via Vox Bizarre / Facebook)
Wordspeak Wednesday, December 7 at Vox Bizarre, 8 pm: FREE
Vox Bizarre is a new Ridgewood-based “store and workshop” pop-up devised by four design labels: Casey Caldwell, TILLYandWILLIAM, Claire Fleury, and LACTIC. Aside from all creating unconventional and intriguing attire and accessories, the common thread that unites these labels is that they are interested in shedding binary gender classifications within fashion and developing pieces that are inclusive to all body types. In addition to selling their wares, they’ve planned a variety of community-based events, such as performances, workshops, photoshoots, and more.
Ereptile Destruction, Growler, Shitkill Tuesday November 22, 9 pm at Union Pool: $8
Once in a while, it helps to forget everything that’s happened to metal since nu metal hit, and take a trip back to our roots. Growler, a Brooklyn-based act that describes itself simply as “hard and loud” helps get us there, mainly by defying the trend toward increasingly humorless, doomed and/or blackened what-have-you. Lately, it feels like we’re so chin-deep in sludgy muck that it’s easy to forget where we started. Growler’s throwback sound plops us back in the early ’80s, with their high-pitched, falsetto, bordering on operatic vocals that recall Iron Maiden and Judas Priest.
Duchess Saysis the ’80s freak-wave/post-punk band you never knew you were dying for. Hailing from Montreal, they’re out to prove that Montreal’s really gaining on NYC right now in every way. And who can resist a band that sounds a whole like like what would happen if the Cars and the Slits had two babies, both born under the darkest of stars, then those babies mated with Halloween incarnate, then all the resulting offspring started a band. Yup. Picture that one.
Lazeyes, PC Worship, Gingerlys, RIPS Wednesday October 5, 8 pm at Rough Trade: $10 in advance/ $15 at the door
According to our social media stalking of Justin Frye, PC Worship will be playing some “new songs” at their Rough Trade show tonight.
But wait, aren’t all of the band’s live performances improvisational? How could music that lingers somewhere around deconstructed punk/avant-garde/drone/free jazz made with freaky-deaky instrumental sculptures (ew, I’d never say that Frye “hacks” his instruments) be anything but new-to-you?
Maybe it’s the scenery (Williamsburg) that’s making Frye feel lightheaded. He’s also encouraging showgoers to take a walk along the waterfront and “contemplate the exact moment Williamsburg ‘changed.””
Elizabeth Wood may be a young filmmaker, still soaking up directorial lessons and figuring it all out, but she knew exactly what she was doing when she decided to call her first full-length feature, a semi-biographical film set in Ridgewood, White Girl. The label is alluring, gnawing, and sorta yucky all at once. Hilton Als wrote an entire collection of essays, White Girls, devoted to decoding the concept, which he determines is somewhere between an actual state of being and a mirage, both an all-powerful fantasy and the ideal object to be controlled : “Once I lived in a perpetual state of disbelief: How could one be a white girl and hate it? Wasn’t she— whoever she was— everything the world saw and wanted?”
It’s a pejorative, a term commonly attached to catcalls that’s less poetic than, say, “snowflake.” It’s “white girl wasted.” It’s a spoiled, naive little girl. It’s complaining too much. It’s traveling abroad and refusing to eat a stew made with chicken broth. It’s infantilizing, condescending, and rarely a compliment. It’s also a nickname for cocaine.
OMG You’re a Girl Drummer?! w/ Milk Dick, Desert Sharks, Prima, Fraidycat, Rizzos Saturday August 27, 8 pm at Sunnyvale: $8
“Girl bands.” You know the term. In fact, you’ve probably even used it a few times– I know I have. It’s easy to do, and sometimes difficult to avoid, even for people who identify as feminists. But we should really stop saying it. All of us.
It happens because the image of an “ideal” rock n’ roll band has been hammered into us from day one, starting at the moment your crazy, mustachioed Uncle Frank threw on Exile on Main Street and started whirling his tubby hips around and around, sloshing beer onto your thin, porous baby skull for the first time (whether it dripped down your tufts of hair or just sat there on top determined how the rest of your life plays out– slumped over in a dark dive bar or squatting on an exercise-ball, bushy-tailed and bright-eyed at Generic Tech Startup X).
Consumption Opening Monday August 22, 6 pm to 9 pm at The Living Gallery. On view one night only.
For one night only, the humble Living Gallery will be taken over by artist and “earth-loving dumpster-diver” Jill Rosati’s fantastical sculptures. Among them are “vomcanoes,” vaguely grotesque creations that look as if a mound of dirt grew legs and eternally spewed a fine stream of luminescent sludge that may or may not contain human hair. Yum! Rosati is committed to showing the ugly and excess-filled side of human nature (and sometimes, just nature itself), but smartly does so using sustainable and recycled materials so she doesn’t necessarily waste in order to portray waste.
Siege, Ultramantis Black, Lunglust Saturday August 13, 7 pm to 11 pm at Sunnyvale: $15
The Acheron’s closing got you down? (RIP BBs.) Well, here’s your chance to thrash the pain away with a seriously brutal hardcore show happening this weekend at Sunnyvale (that new-ish kid on the block). As a fire-safe venue with lounge chairs, art installations, a killer backline and, like, legit permits n’ stuff, this may not be the punkest setting, but the place has good bones and great vibes. Oh, and Sunnyvale used to be a super nasty underground punk club too, so there’s that.
(Photo: Courtesy of Sarah Feldman of Ridgewood Social)
Already mourning the loss of the Palisades? Well don’t worry, because everything that’s wonderful is probably going to close down at some point anyway (sorry, sometimes NYC real estate pessimism gets the best of us).
But for now, we’ve got a new one on deck: the Footlight Bar has opened its doors in Ridgewood in order to fill the rock ‘n’ roll-shaped hole in your heart. And with the long-awaited addition of a full liquor-service tonight, the venue will be celebrating with a packed lineup and a pop-up kitchen from I Like Food, a venture helmed by Chef Fernando Strohmeyer (he’s done similar foody one-offs at Dromedary Bar and The Starliner). If you thought music and food were enough, think again– Footlight’s also gearing up for fitness classes.
Brace yourself, it’s gonna be a hot one. With temperatures wavering in the ’90s this weekend, some people might not want to leave the sacred space of their air conditioning, despite how many of these very same people’s fashion choices reflect that they actually love the ’90s. But for those who want to be so occupied you forget about your melting and/or boiling flesh, here are four music and art festivals this weekend to spend your day and/or night at.