February 06, 2005


I slept through the eem show, and woke up to go to M.I.A. in time. We met up with Sasha, and he was standing by a huge pile of trash-molting. We walked to the show, and him and Julianne talked a lot about Grime . Grime is a genre I like in theory and principal, but try and keep abreast of it. We jumped the line and filed in behind Spankrock's posse, dancers and extended family. Nick Catchdubs was thonking big bass favorites and mashing and mixing in a way that lets you know you are in New York and not some other city. In New York, the bump is always nuclear, on some gotta-prove shit, so they only play tracks you cannot live without at bin-bursting volumes. This happens sometimes, late and accidental in spring and summer, in Chicago, except with much less expensive shoes. All I could think was what bills I could hold off paying in order to buy stacks of 12"s to bring home and drop like anchors at the parties Bekka and I are doing late spring.

We saw M.I.A. -- who for her third show was wowing. Too bad her set was 1/3rd the volume of either Diplo or Catchdubs' sets. People were jacking and screaming the whole time. I liked her outfit and the projections just as much as her performance. I also think she has terrific hair. I had not heard any of her songs aside from "Galang" and so I just craned to see her over Elliot Aronow, who was just popping. He had on an Israeli gift scarf that was making him sweat through his sweater, sweat which was then rubbed on my arm. I try and be all 'of the people" but I am grossed out by how unsanitary shows are,so we bailed. Goodbye M.I.A. with yr hair like a honey colored flag and spurkley outfit!

We went outside and smoked and then ate sandwiches and ran into the young cadre of asst. eds and staff writers, "the kids" -- yrs younger than us, who came outta Brown and NYU and were willing to packmule to get up the ladder - 70 hours a week, managing via chinese delivery, guest list and bumps in the mens room. They look tired and casper-y, but are reporting a 75,000$ annual salary, and are on their way up. As always, I wondered about the possibilities I could have had if I went to some Ivy League feeder school (or if my dad owned Benihana). Going to any college at all would have meant I had stayed awake while taking my ACTs, so we're talking historical rewrite and capitalist fueled fantasy at this point. When I get down to knawing on the grisle of my envy, I do the a run down to untangle "would I rather work at the fader than make a fanzine that is life affirming? no. Is 75,000 and benefits probably worth the exhaustion and doubt and loathing one incurs working at Rolling Stone? doubtful. I reported 7,364$ on my 2003 taxes, but not once did I have to open someone else's mail or go to work at a magazine that puts rapists or professional mysogynists on the cover" None the less, I usually have to spend about 7 minutes doing the affirmative talk down. It's not that I actually jealous-jealous, it's more about that what I have been culturally progammed to identify as success, and it's about refuting that, and knowing different.

Posted by Jessica at February 6, 2005 12:40 PM | TrackBack