Um, Heather Parisi is the fucking shit.

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Daphne from (ex-)Avenue D turned me onto her when while we devoured Blair's sweet potato and merguez mash at Shara's place. How did I not know about this bitch? She's like everything I've ever wanted anyone to be.

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I'd wear that outfit around the house.

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Seriously? Seriously? So sick.

She also has a ( Read more... )

When I saw Interpol last week it seemed like their music was so much older than it actually is, or maybe I am just reaching an age where I can actually remember songs that have impacted my life being released (I only started really listening to Nirvana in the 7th grade, four years after Kurt Cobain's death). I'm reaching a point in my consumption ( Read more... )

I've decided to like The View. Despite their shaky Mercury Lounge showcase earlier this month (um, why does it feel like it was about 34 years ago?), Hats Off to the Buskers is a really good garage pop record, and is kind of helping my get through the sub-zero NYC winter--speaking of, what in the fucking shit? I swear people are losing shit to ( Read more... )

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