Never use a cruelty when a joke will do in its place

There's a big, silly picture of me (and bandmates) in the Weekly this week. It's from a set we did in a vacant lot in Williamsburg. The photos all looked good, but I hate this particular picture because I was going on about three hours of sleep, hadn't shaved, and I look like I have a massive double chin.

We're playing the Weekly's Reverb Fest this Saturday. We're at the Tractor, on at 5:30 PM, so all you old fogeys can come see us and still make it home in time for Project Runway or whatever. I'm irritated that most of the bands I want to see are either playing at the same time we are (Sage) or against each other (Guns & Rosetti vs. Red Jacket Mine).

I procured Les Années Psychédéliques, a selection of Serge Gainsbourg's output between 1966 and 1971. Some of the tunes I'd heard before, but most of them were new to me. Holy shit, it's rad. Funk banjo. Beleedat.

Also, why did I sleep on Girl Talk for so long? I always thought I'd do something like that if I were more ambitious/patient/high.