Stroke Me, Stroke Me
I crossed the Rubicon, in "becoming what you hate the most" terms. This is to say, I went to a Strokes listening party. The Casablacas were not there, it's true, but it was still a bit much.
In all honesty, the crowd was a bit small, there was NOWHERE to sit, the album is mediocre at best, and my pitchfork friend was merely polite. So sad. The g/f and I lit out as soon as the free Harp stopped flowing and went to Down the Hatch, an NYU-area bar that is perhaps, the funniest place on Earth. Throngs of stripey-shirted dudes and their be-tank topped lassies played beer pong as Hootie played on the juke box and we discussed. . . i don't really remember. I was kind of drunk. As I am now, in case the rambling nature of this post and the dulling of my usually rapier-sharp wit haven't clued you in.
Look for my review of the Strokes' latest record (based on what i could hear over the din of 100 hipsters) to pop up soon on Blogcritics.
In all honesty, the crowd was a bit small, there was NOWHERE to sit, the album is mediocre at best, and my pitchfork friend was merely polite. So sad. The g/f and I lit out as soon as the free Harp stopped flowing and went to Down the Hatch, an NYU-area bar that is perhaps, the funniest place on Earth. Throngs of stripey-shirted dudes and their be-tank topped lassies played beer pong as Hootie played on the juke box and we discussed. . . i don't really remember. I was kind of drunk. As I am now, in case the rambling nature of this post and the dulling of my usually rapier-sharp wit haven't clued you in.
Look for my review of the Strokes' latest record (based on what i could hear over the din of 100 hipsters) to pop up soon on Blogcritics.
posted by Chris Chafin at 3:10 PM
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