Furrever Love

I went to the Exotic Pet Expo this weekend with one thing on my mind--seeing the 9 week old tiger cubs. For years, I have followed Save the Tiger projects and sponsored Russian tigers. It's my dream to actually pet one. The closest I came was when I did a behind-the-scenes investigation on the treatment of animals at The Ringling Brother's Barnum and Bailey Circus while I was in college. I was centimeters away from the beautful caged creature and could watch the whiskers on it's nose move as it was breathing. Amazing.

Well....thanks to the pet show, where a white bengal romped with an orange one, I found a place to make my dreams come true. The Horseshoe Creek Wildlife Reserve in Florida! You can take Animal Ambassador Interactive Tours that include feeding tiger cubs,hold an aligator, play with a baby panther, etc. HEAVENLY. I thought the only place like that was Tiger Island in Australia, where tigers walk around the park on leashes. I'm excited to go.

I also feel in love with an adorable Husky/Lab puppy named Lexi, who you can watch here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9nVXsrUPceY

I applied to adopt Lexi. Wish me luck!

The Husky House is a great organization dedicated to finding homes for these dogs. Everyone likes them as puppies, but has no idea how hard it is to raise a Husky and the older dogs wind up being sent to shelters. It's really sad. Visit www.huskyhouse.org to find out how you can help foster a dog until a home is found, donate money, buy a really cool hoodie, or adopt a new pet today!

This is my husky/shepard Skye. Jessica is her aunt.

*Joelle

Ladies and Gentlemen, They Have Done it Again...

It seems that there are tons of categories you can place bands under....poser-punks, sugar coated pop, hardxcore, altmetal, altrock, i could probably go on forever. Well, there are all those catagories, and then Saliva. The band that has, seriously, made their mark on the world through creating xbox anthems and songs that girls can say "yeah, i did a strip tease to that." Well, boys and girls, they are at it again. The new 2007 version of good 'ol "Click Click Boom" is now in stores, and the single to be released is entitled, "Ladies and Gentlemen." This one is sure to be the new playstation anthem or strip club theme song or something.... Its a catchy number that now graces mine and surround beings ears whenever work summons me.

All I can say, is keep in eye on the youtube...rumor has it there is going to be a major kick ass video....


By Amanda, who thinks kelly k. is super cool.

Girls Don't Cry and Arckid at Pianos

So last night I had the pleasure of checking out Arckid, formerly Spacehog, at Pianos. What a treat it was!

I got to Pianos around 10pm, just in time to catch the house band, Girls Don't Cry. While I appreciated their Go-Gos feel and rather polished songs, these girls made ME want to cry! I haven't heard lyrics so horrendous and cliche since ... well, ok, I take that back, I forgot that Hillary Duff plays at the gym ALL THE TIME!

Arckid was tight. So impressive. Each song rocked out and rocked hard and right into the next. A tittilating half hour. Yes, tittilating. Best song: "Remains." Check em out on Myspace - www.myspace.com/arckid. Their page is a little weak, but I guarantee if you have the opportunity to see these guys play, they won't disappoint.


*by Jordana... who just took a powernap at the office

Anna Nicole Smith is dead.

We have soldiers and civilians dying in Iraq and Afghanistan everyday. We have people starving everywhere. We have women and children being sold to human traffickers (not to mention my favorite, being raped legally in various countries of the Middle East). We have all sorts of shit going down in Darfur. We still don't have cures for AIDS or cancer. We have skyrocketing rates of autism in America, most notably in New Jersey. We have global warming and an oil supply that won't last more than forty years--tops. We have the existence of shows like My Super Sweet Sixteen.

And this "tragedy" is the big, breaking story on the evening news?

God forgive me, but I have more important things to worry about.
Hopefully you do, too.



*By Jess, who's really disgusted with the media today.

The Parisian Paradox

I can't decide whether Paris Hilton is a genius in disguise or if she really is an honest to God imbecile.

She's made a "career" of venturing to night clubs sans undergarments (as well as modesty) and spewing out mindless drivel that winds up--with a photo of her barely clothed and perpetually appearing to be on the verge of winking--on Page Six. She also had that Simple Life show with Nicole Richie (who I find only to be slightly less useless as a human being), but lest we forget--her sex tape debuted before that did.

With the opening of the now-on-hiatus-pending-a-lawsuit parisexposed.com, any and everyone could gain access to Paris Hilton's "private" property (bitch please, it's too easy, and so is she) for forty bucks--and people actually purchased it in droves. What were the contents of the site? Videos of Paris in a bubble bath, on a boat with an overweight man snorting an enormous amount of cocaine off of his own heaving manboobs (seriously, they were so big that I felt a little jealous), and having softcore relations with a model exboyfriend whose name I don't know nor care to learn. There were also scans of prescriptions (use your imagination) and driver's licenses and other paperwork you wouldn't want strangers to get a hold of.

As much as I love to loathe Paris, I think what's more pathetic than her IQ and complete lack of class (she referred to a girl on video as being a "public school bitch," uses the N-word and that other word that got Isaiah Washington in hot water with ABC and GLAAD), is that people actually pay to invade her privacy. The fact is, the girl's not that interesting. I can think of nothing profound, charitable, or worthwhile about her as a human being. Okay, scratch the "charitable" part, but while we're on that note:

Here are a couple of worthwhile websites that'll help you be almost as giving as Paris Hilton, just hopefully not in the same vein--and for free:














*By Jess, who is in the mood to bake because it'll keep her warm through the twelve degree temperatures of late.

I smell an Emmy!

There is no way General Hospital is not going to sweep every category this year. The whole hotel hostage situation is showcasing the excellent writing team and giving the actors a chance to shine with their dramatic art. Everything is keeping me on the edge of my seat. I don't even want to read the soap magazines to find out what's going to happen because that just spoils the fun!

Tune in weekdays on ABC. I even got my boyfriend hooked. haha Don't forget some of the best actors in movies today came from soaps!

*Joelle, who grew up on soaps and ditched NBC for ABC.

The day has come

Silverchair are FINALLY touring America!!! With two sold out dates in New York City (Webster Hall and Bowery), there's proof that Silverchair is the best and biggest band that seems to have fallen off the face of the earth but never did. See, while most of you i'm sure forgot about them after their grunge days, a beautiful thing happened: Diorama. I can't even explain the beauty of this album. It was shocking how they transformed as a band. And it was a mystery as to what they could possibly do after that and how they could top it. Well, it's here: "Straight Lines" is the new single. Go watch the video at www.myspace.com/silverchair.

The last time I saw them, Silverchair OPENED for an immature, undeserving- of-sharing- the- stage- with- them band called Blink 182. There was Daniel Johns singing with a hot pink feature boa and all the fans, little bratty punks awaiting fart jokes from Tom, Mark and Travis, didn't appreciate it.

Well hot damn, I'll be at Webster Hall on Feb. 13 if my Craigslist purchased tickets come through (thank you Adam). So keep your fingers crossed. Silverchair are the most UNDERRATED BAND EVER!!!!!

*Joelle, who has a Silverchair song picked out for her wedding

Leto the Let Down

Here's a little secret we've never revealed. About a year ago, my friend Eryn, went to go shoot 30 Seconds to Mars and Aiden (barf, gag, ew). Planet Verge was the only publication graced with a photo pass that night, therefore, Eryn was the only photographer in the photo pit. During 30 Seconds to Mars' performance, there were some uncalled for actions by vocalist, Jared Leto. He not only spilled a bottle of water over Eryn's head and camera, but the tough gal that she is, Eryn continued her job and then Leto kicked her shoulder. On purpose. A few minutes later, he walked off stage for a second and then a security guard came over and asked Eryn to leave.


Now, if they didn't want photographers there, they shouldn't have allowed photo passes. And if Leto was going to kick her out, why didn't he do that BEFORE he basically harrassed her? Totally unnecessary roughness. He sucks. He broke our hearts. And when we told his publicist about this, she said she would look into it and doubted it was all on purpose.

But alas, read the New York Post today (pg. 11) and the headline "Leto looney at Sundance." Seems this pretty boy really doesn't like getting his picture taken. But dude, don't take it out on the people (this time a photographer from WireImage) who are just doing their job!

I can't say Jared is a total jerk, though. When I met him at another show after that, he was very nice and asked a lot of questions about Planet Verge. He even hugged my boyfriend. And a few months ago, Eryn was introduced to him backstage at a concert and he was quite cordial. Would've been funny if she told him what he did to her, though.

I wonder if he beats up camera men when he is filming movies? lol

*Love,
Joelle, who was a fan of 30 Seconds to Mars since Day ONE, thankyouverymuch

You should go here tonight.

You'll get to meet the other PV girls and I'll be able to live vicariously through you as I drift in and out of consciousness watching reruns of The White Rapper Show and subsequently searching for things with which to hang myself.


*By Jess, who magically only gets sick when there's fun stuff to do over the weekend

21 minutes late is better than never!

For some reason, this wouldn't let me log in on January 17th at anytime, and now that it's been the 18th for twenty-one whole minutes:

Happy Birthday to Tim Pagnotta of Sugarcult!

Not only can the man write a killer hook, but he's really good at color coordination:

Those eyes and that shirt? Flawless.
I look a bit deranged here, but see how my bra straps perfectly complement my tank?
Match made in heaven, dude.

Oh, and he called me "Momma." Twice. I wouldn't mind being his [baby] momma. Just throwing that out there, folks.

And no, I'm not REALLY obsessed with him--I just think he can sing his patootie off and that he happens to be rather goodlooking. And I don't really wanna be his baby momma, either. I'm way too anti-stretch marks for that.



*By Jess, who thinks she has SARS.

Kill Hannah- Kennedy

enjoy

Kill Hannah- Lips Like Morphine

listen. love

oy vey

i just did a search for lostprophets on google and photos i took come up, which is cool. BUT they are from the early days of planet verge, when i did not put photo credit on the pictures. so therefore, all our pictures are all over the place, and we get no credit. and that makes me sad cause we work soooo hard on everything. that's a big reason why i took down the photo gallery on planetverge.com. now all our pictures are small and have photo credit on them. which is both good and bad. oh well. here's to our popular pictures. cheers!

*joelle

my beef with the stone pony

The Stone Pony is probably the most famous little rock club on the Jersey shore. So much in fact, that major label bands make stops on their tour there. And with that comes press. Photographers. IE--- professional (or some who think they are) picture takers who are getting paid (if they're lucky) for their work. People who are not the slutty fans in the front row with cameras and stalking the band outside afterwords asking them to sign their tits.

Usually, venues have a designated photo area in front of the stage set aside for the photo pass privileged so they can work and not have to battle fans getting in the way. Not the Stone Pony. Not only do they never seem to set up barriers, they never even have physical photo passes to give press.

This caused a problem for me when I went to shoot Eighteen Visions and Lostprophets a few months ago there. But luckily, 18 V's crew totally accomidated me and both bands pretty much let me shoot as much as I wanted (not the standard three songs and you're out rule). We have a mutual love. haha

I wasn't as fortunate when I went to go see Kill Hannah at the Pony this week. The band hit the stage the second I walked in, so I didn't even have time to go to the merch table to track down a tour manager to get escorted to stage. But I shouldn't have to do that anyway and it's a major annoyance. So with no real photo pass, or fuel to argue with security to get let up on the stage, I settled for not being able to take pictures. I did manage to shoot some video footage, though.

This was my first time seeing Kill Hannah and I can't wait to see them again. They had a great stage presence, which was even brought up a notch once the guitars started shooting out green lazer light. It really helped accentuate the atmosphere and accent the music.

Vocalist, Mat Devine, called Asbury Park the most beatiful and depressing city. He then thanked fans for putting on their bullet-proof jackets to come out. At least he made a joke of it. Word is that the Pink Spiders totally dissed NJ, but I was not present at the time of their set to confirm.

So I left the show wanting more Kill Hannah, another chance to take pictures, and their debut CD. Looks like I'll get the first two when they play Starland Ballroom in March, but as for that CD, I'm still on the hunt!


pixy stix and sweedish fish kisses,
Joelle

To the nice gentleman who let me park my car where I wasn't supposed to:

You rocked my socks (hypothetically, since I wasn't wearing any today), my shoes, my leggings, my dress, my hairtie, my nailpolish, and my plastic ring today.

Thank you very much.

And girls? Pouting always works.

Love,
Jess

How to Avoid Being A Huge Tool

Be literate. Literacy is sexy. Not like this goon, who, despite my page being private, stumbled upon me on myspace and won't leave me be. Check this crap out:


----------------- Original Message -----------------
From: ?
Date: Jan 12 2007 12:33 AM
Sugar CAndy mountain? Thats freaking awesome!!

So I was amused, because most people don't understand the reference. To verify (and wind up disappointed):

----------------- Original Message -----------------
From: Jessicalmost cares
Date: Jan 11 2007 6:35 PM
Do you know what it refers to?

----------------- Original Message -----------------
From: ?
Date: Jan 12 2007 1:38 AM
Not really. I just liked the phrase. I googled it and there's a web site by that name. What does it mean to you?

What the Hell? "What does it mean to you?" I don't do Dr. Phil shit. I hate it when people ask me what I'm feeling for significant things (do I even have feelings? There's a better question), let alone stupid junk like this. In any case:

----------------- Original Message -----------------
From: Jessicalmost cares
Date: Jan 11 2007 7:47 PM
It's the name of the hypothetical utopia in Orwell's Animal Farm.

And then he tries to sound smart by using the word "allegorical." Unfortunately, in missing the entire point of my one-sentence reply, he does the opposite.

----------------- Original Message -----------------
From: ?
Date: Jan 12 2007 5:47 AM
OH, I missed high school and never got around to reading it. I'm not much into politics even if it is fiction. Don't really go in for books with the allegorical overtones either. Sounds like a really nice place though. In the book, is it a nice place?

Um, how do you miss all of high school? Unless you're like most of the people who went to mine, it should only take four years (please note that the stabbing that occurred in my high school was the work of an eighteen year old sophomore, and no, I can't even write this stuff). What were you busy doing, sir? Just wondering. Anyway, it was at this point that I began banging my head against my purple and green walls and wishing I had an iron curtain to drop on stupid almost-30-year-olds who try to spit game at me like this.


*By Jess, who, despite doubting a draft reinstatement happening anytime soon, still claims to have flat feet until we're out of Iraq.

Conquer, nah. Dominate, ehh, no. Takeover, bring it.

Early in the year, a friend told me to check out a band he was working with. Usually I don't think to much of a "CHECK OUT THIS BAND!!!" comment that a friend might throw around...but I knew that he has similar music taste, and wouldn't steer me towards something completely crappy. Well, needless to say, what I found, KICKED ASS. Meet the Takeover. (NOTE- This video is not to be shared, its for Planet Verge ONLY...)




Here's a little sneak peak at my article/interview with the guys...

THE TAKEOVER…Are YOU Ready? ‘Cause, this one will take you by surprise.
For Planet Verge
By Amanda Tumulty

“Stop being plain and like everybody else, try and do something different, do something else. Go against the fucking flow.”


It’s a rarity that you find a talented, charismatic yet reserved, fun group of guys that can plain and simply…ROCK. Meet the Takeover from Philadelphia, PA, and made up of 5 of the most talented, driven guys the local music scene has seen in years. There’s Patrick (vocals), Eric (guitars), Jared (beatin’ the drums), Kris (analogs), and Jesse (digitals). It’s not everyday that you find a band that is able to make you move and you don’t even know it, with their hypnotizing sound, you can’t help but dance. I had a chance to talk to the guys after their Club Deep performance in late December, I got a look at what they need to have in the van, what makes them rock, and the struggles that make them rock as hard as they do today.

“Let it go, Dance it up.”

Between the sick synth beats and wailing guitar, the Takeover is a welcome change from the typical and usual “pop-punk” sound. The Takeover’s before show rituals may be somewhat strange, but as it was explained to me, “healthy bathroom habits are essential.” The band makes claim that they are inspired from all kinds of genres and artists, when asked the “stranded on an island with a cd, which one would it be?” question, I heard everything from Bruce Springsteen’s Greatest Hits to any box sets, to good ol’ mixed cd’s, and guitarist Eric manages to slide in that he would have to take Radiohead....



check out www.planetverge.com for the FULL article coming soon...



* Amanda (thanks steve)

the most important piece of advice ever

"I think you always have to do what you set out in life to do, regardless of how successful you are at it. You are successful when you're doing what you want to do. You're not successful if you give up and do something you don't want to do. It's not about how much you make, as much as it is that you actually went for it." -BUTCH WALKER TO PLANET VERGE.

I've been reading this quote a lot lately. I have the issue of Planet Verge we did the Butch Walker tribute in signed by the man himself and hanging above my desk. So it's always there, as if screaming at me. Or it's me screaming at myself.....

The other day I was going through the Planet Verge filing cabinets getting rid of old stuff. I found a whole bunch of letters from our fans, ranging from a girl in Puerto Rico begging me to help make her a star, to people who read about us in Teen People and want to be a part of our team. It feels really good to know that people look up to you. But the ironic thing is, I constantly wonder if I made the right decisions with my life.

I graduated college and instead of getting a real corporate job in a magazine or PR field, dedicated my life to making a movement. Trying to start your own company is not something I reccomend. I get asked advice on how to start a magazine all the time. The first thing I say? Don't do it! Get a real fan base online before even thinking about moving into the print world, spending your life savings and risking financial security in your life because you work a crappy part time job in order to have time to follow your dream.

So here I am. Three years after college. And only now am I finally feeling like "Hey, i'm getting somewhere." But it's not fast enough. And how much longer can I spend living the dream before I need to actually grow up, face the 9-5 world and say "At least I tried?"

It took me those three years after college to come to the conclusion that I DON'T WANT to even do music journalism anymore! It bores me. Bands bore me. Radio bores me. I don't want to be writing about the same thing over and over again. I want to be the one bringing new exciting things to people. Changing the boring way of the world.

As much as I can be a great editor and running things, I thrive being the one behind the scenes. Being part of the band's team, doing PR. Finding the band and bringing them to attention to labels. Making a difference in their careers, while making a name for myself. But once again, this business is all about proving yourself. And I have come so far, yet feel so far away... Maybe this is lack of sleep and not enough Vitamin C in me doing all the talking. But I just go back to that Butch Walker quote and know everything will be ok. I went for it. I had amazing life experiences, met extraordinary people (like Butch), and took chances other people only dream about. So what if I'm broke now? Eventually I'll be able to afford myself and pay off all those credit card bills. lol

So here I am deciding what to do with my life. Go back to school and be a teacher like all the boring, easy way out people? Figure that will give me summer's off and free time to still run a PR company. But really hate it cause I would be wasting so much talent. Or find another, higher paying crappy part-time job with benefits so I can keep striving for my dream and hope my boyfriend hits it rich so I can count on him for support? (DON'T EVER COUNT ON A MAN, Ladies! My momma taught me right with that one. You gotta be strong and independent).

Right now, I think I'm gonna go with the flow. Take one day at a time. Live life today and try not to worry too much about all the tomorrows. Good things come to those who wait, right?

Here's to the dreamers. The ones who start something, support something and don't give in.

*Joelle

The Good, the Bad, and the Over Played...

Something has been digging at me. I understand the whole radio airplay concept and how there's playlists, and music is licensed to said stations to be played a certain number of times on a certain number of playlists, blah, blah blah. I have been hearing tons of great new music on the radio, and I have been hearing some tragic attempts at talent...but, Whatever happened to the whole concept of "leave wanting more" more? Wouldn't that create more buzz for the artist? It certainly has the potential to make the artist and the label more money. Wouldnt that make listeners tune into the radio staion more frequently in hopes of hearing said song???

The other day i was driving to the beach to check out the waves and maybe head out for a surf, I mean, it was 73 degrees in January, and going against my usual mix CD playlist I went for the radio. Flipping around I finally settled on the ghetto, wanna-be-punk, sugar coated pop station of Z100. On my way there I heard Hinder's latest release success "Lips of an Angel" or whatever its called. THEN, after I finished my glorious hour long walk on the beach (the waves sucked) I got back in my car and within 3 minutes, Hinders song was on again. I'm not saying that its a bad song, or that its horrifically overplayed, its just frustrating to me. I would have been more curious about the song, and maybe would have checked it out on itunes or something if i HADN'T heard it 2 times within an hour and a half.

I just want success for those whom are TRULY talented. The music world knows how to destroy dreams, and it knows how to cradle and help develope those few careers that are truly worth venturing into. Radio airplay is ruining some songs for me. Some talented artists are licensing their songs out WAY to much. WAY to much.

Ahh. I feel better now that I got that out.

I hope that everyone is having a wonderful day. The week is making it's way to Friday!


*Amanda (who is totally and completely digging the Colour Revolt EP.)

What I've been pondering this week:

1. Why in God's (or Allah's, or Brahman's, or whichever tickles your fancy) name is Route 18 still under construction?
Seriously. What is the objective and when will it be reached? Getting to South Jersey is absolutely horrifying, and while Joelle will probably say that it's like that with my driving regardless (I really am not that bad), when lanes are barely wider than my hips (okay, bad example), let alone my fucking car, it's really, really, nervewracking. My knuckles looked like fat little snowflakes on my steering wheel last night when I went to see two bands you should check out--Dear Ulysses and The Peasantry (they even share members, isn't that precious?). They have the hardest working manager in the biz, too. I was glad to say that they were well worth the trek to Long Branch. The show was definitely more killer than the drive there, and well, that's a lot of killing. That's like Jack the Ripper (hi Spitalfield reference!) meets the Zodiac meets Catherine of friggin' Bathory, dude.

2. How cool would it be if it actually rained men?
This actually crossed my mind as I was driving and singing along to the sequel to this song (because everything on radio around here sucks more than a hundred Hoovers and Kirby's--except this guy, who owns your face), which features a cameo by RuPaul--amazing. But really--I would turn my umbrella upside down for sure. And I already jump in puddles, so this would be even more enjoyable. But how would they fall? Would they start out as little droplets and then grow upon hitting ground or what? Because if one is clumsy, this could be really dangerous and messy, too. A chance I'm willing to take, mind you. I'll pray for rises in humidity and drops in barometric pressure for as long as it takes... And invest in a really big bucket to keep outside, one which wouldn't attract West Nile and mosquitoes when left out overnight.

3. Why does the Court Tavern staff insist on keeping that hundred year old dirtbag at the door?
What a douche, seriously. I've encountered plenty of rude, bitter people in my life, but none that get paid to be as such (Elizabeth Hasselbeck not withstanding). Luckily, being a youngin', I didn't have to deal with him much when I went to see the Love Trilogy for drummer Ahmed's birthday. They had cool lighting effects and do one mean "Voodoo Chile" cover--and they're in Brunswick all the time, so check them out when you can. Also fun was getting a Big Bird cupcake shoved in my face that subsequently fell a bit further South. I was still picking yellow sprinkles out of my cleavage the next morning. All in a day's work.

4. How long is it going to take you to realize that this is my way of band product placement?
Wink wink, nudge nudge.


*By Jess, who reads propaganda like it's pulp fiction.

Somebody Call 911!!!

Former Baywatch star, Jeremy Jackson must have suffered brain damage while filming scenes in the ocean for all those years. It has apparently effected his ability to create good music.

Back in the day, I'll admit, I had a major crush on his character, Hobie. The episode with the music video, oh he was so dreamy.

Now, all that fake tanning really did something to him--he thinks he's black! Listen to the new song on his MySpace page. He raps about getting drunk and coked up. I think he should take his own advice and "pack it up."


Dude, the guy is so California gudio it's gross. But I did enjoy the expose Vanity Fair did on him a while back.
And he is still hot, but I like laughing at him better than looking at him.

*Joelle, who has seen every episode of Baywatch from DAY ONE!

Julie Andrews must be fuming.

There's a reason why I avoid Top-40 radio; reason being: It's generally garbage, with too few highlights (hi, AAR) in between commercials and commercialized pop trash to be worth listening to. Not improving this situation is an artist I once admired. Her name is Gwen Stefani.

While I understand that it's a common notion that ska is dead and her former outfit No Doubt evolved their sound, No Doubt's evolution was never really... Bad. The songwriting skill and effort were there. Their hearts were in it. The lyrics were--and remained--, though occasionally trite (enough about Tony Kanal already, seriously--you're married to someone eleventeen billion times better looking, and with a charming British accent to boot), inspired and honest. The vocals were strong and earnest. You believed Gwen was a frustrated almost-feminist in "Just a Girl." You believed she wanted to settle down and get married and be a homemaker in "Simple Kind of Life." You even believed that she wanted to keep dancing in the admittedly mediocre--and telling of things to come--"Hella Good." You believed she was really smitten in "Underneath It All," really torn in "Bathwater."

But how can you believe a thirty-something talking about fighting a beeyotch near the bleachers of a high school, a la the ever-irritating yet inexplicably overplayed "Hollaback Girl" of What You Waiting For (which, I should point out, is missing a verb)? Gwen alienated most of her purely musical, as opposed to image-based, fans with her solo debut, and she's only pushing us further away with her latest release, The Sweet Escape.

It's not that I don't like dance music. I do, quite a bit, and I find that Gwen could, would, and should be capable of creating some quality material with it. But she didn't before, and she hasn't started now. Her producers are quality (The Neptunes, Swizz Beats, and her former flame Tony Kanal, among others), her beats are decent--but her songwriting hasn't improved, and her choice of samples has gone straight to Hell: "Wind It Up" is an absolute disaster. What could have been kitschy, cute, and catchy is instead so unabashedly atrocious, annoying, and aggravating that I find it shouldn't even be played in solitary confinements for fear of ever-rising prisoner suicide rates.

The album's saving graces are Stefani's actual voice and her sense of humor, both of which are waning. The title track showcases both, with her catchy hook and blaming her emotional coldness on presumably Gavin's leaving the fridge door open. Not helping this song is the pointless Akon cameo, but this is the least of our worries. I'd rather have him around than those creepy nouveau-geishas, commonly called "Harajuku girls."

What's most disturbing about Gwen is that she pretty much admits she's after a quick buck merely three tracks in with "Orange County Girl," where she sings, "Don’t know what I’m doin’ back in the studio/Gettin’ greedy cause he said he had another sick flow ... I got the L.A.M.B. and he’s rockin’ the Ice Cream/Blend it together, something fresh and kinda in between/Writing down my feelings is something that I love/So I don’t really give a ****." In saying she only wants to express her feelings (which I can only imagine are pure materialism and scorn for eardrums everywhere), she first has to namedrop her fashion line that most of her young fans can't afford. Gwen is more concerned with style than substance. That works for her fashion shows, but it doesn't bode well for her live ones.


*By Jess, who now needs to be lobotomized.

Insert popular Death Cab song title here.

I usually never make resolutions, seeing as I'm more than aware that I have little self-control or discipline to keep up with them for more than three hours or so past midnight, but this year I want to try my hand at a few. Some of last year's worked out well (taking my vitamins, not running red lights because I'm not paying attention, and learning to bellydance and giftwrap--not simultaneously). This year, some are again more goals than resolutions, but nonetheless, here's my list:

1) Learn to cook.
I want to be able to eat things that don't require the use of a microwave or toaster oven. I want to be able to boil water without using a Pyrex and 60-second setting. I want to be competent, dammit. I already taught myself to bake recently, so I'm hoping this works out as well as that did. I make some killer cookies, dude, so maybe a try at lasagna won't be too traumatizing. I'm also a germaphobe, so I can pretty much guarantee you'll never get salmonella from my cooking.

2) Have more patience.
This is going to be so hard, because I have to go from having "none" to having quite a bit. Pray for me. I forget that not everyone understands the same things I do, just like how I don't understand when in my life, other than finals week, I'm going to need to know how to compose a parabola.

3) Accept that not everything is always going to be under my control.
Though I must admit, I think if everything were, the world would be running a lot more smoothly than it is now. But yeah. I think I'll be a lot less frustrated a lot less often if I can just relinquish my need to run things all the time.

4) Be more punctual.
I'm usually late for everything. I don't like this characteristic, but I think it stems more from my being easily distracted than from pure carelessness, because I'll be completely ready to go--and then Prince will come on, and I'll have to dance, and I wind up out the door eight minutes later than anticipated (if the song is "Purple Rain," that is).

5) Learn how to fly a plane.
My dad can do it. My brother Steve can do it. Why shouldn't I be able to? (Insert chauvinist remark here.)

6) Stop rationalizing poor behavior.
See my reasoning for my lack of promptness in number four? Yeah, that's got to go. So does my leniency toward certain people for their lacks of consideration. I'm not going to be all tacky-manners-police about it (because that's rude in spite of itself), but if, despite my sincerest attempts at resolution two, I lose my patience--expect a proverbial slap on the wrist if it happens too often.

7) Go skydiving.
Steve, are you paying attention?

8) Love my enemies.
Okay, okay, maybe I won't necessarily adore them, but I'm starting to humanize them a little more already. People are people. Not everyone has to like everyone (though I still don't understand why there aren't more Jets fans).

9) Stop friggin' procrastinating.
I was actually going to wait until January 1st to post this. I'm on my way.

10) Learn learn learn.
The prospects of my marrying rich are getting bleaker every day... I need to study a lot more.


*By Jess, who has a new addiction to cherry Hershey Kisses, and hopes you'll all help keep her on track for 2007.

He knows when you are sleeping, he knows when you're awake...

Really, how creepy is that notion?

I love Christmas, I really do. But as a child, the voyeuristic aspect of Saint Nick perturbed me a little. I'd always sit and think, "Is Santa watching me tinkle? Wouldn't that make him naughty--a pedophile, even--and therefore a hypocrite?" Obviously, my soliloquies would've been worded a bit differently when I was five, but you get my drift.

I'd also wonder, since he was always watching, if he could read minds too. Because sometimes, actions that would presumably place one on the "naughty" list had the very nicest of intentions (perhaps why the road to Hell is paved as such). When I knocked out Marcus on the playground? That was because he kicked a soccer ball right in my face, dude. I was just teaching him a lesson, and I really didn't mean to punch him that hard. All the times I was less than polite to telemarketers? They called during dinner time, and I'm Italian. We don't like being interrupted when food is in front of us.

My pondering intensified when, at six years old, my parents took my brother and me to the Radio City Christmas Spectacular. It was a fine show, no doubt, but the Santa in the lobby? His beard fell off. When I paired this potentially damaging visual with the observation I'd made that his handwriting on the gifttags was eerily similar to my mom's, I was absolutely devastated. I attempted to launch a miniature coup d'etat with nearby children until he reaffixed his facial tufts (I could still see the adhesive) and my parents, hawk eyes that they had, steered me towards the exit before I could make a scene.

I knew that lying was naughty and that I should tell the truth to the other kids (the same mode of thinking ironically almost got me kicked out of Sunday school a few years later, but that's another entry entirely), but the look in that Santa's eyes broke my heart. He looked frightened of the little girl with pigtails and her front teeth missing who barely came up to the red velvet knee she sat upon. I felt sorry for him.

This put me in a bit of a moral dilemma: I could be an honest, upstanding child and break the news to the rest of my kindergarten class--or I could keep the secret, and the magic, alive. I chose the latter, mostly because I didn't want to ruin anyone's holiday--and also for own smug ego, so that a few years later when they came to their realizations on their own, I could sit and think to myself, "Old news!"

The moral of the story? "Naughty" and "nice" are subjective. This year, do what feels right.

For me, that'd be Lenny Kravitz.


Merry Christmas.

*By Jess, who really likes the carol "The Little Drummer Boy," for a few reasons... A ruh-pum-pum-pum!

Current Addictions

1. THE RASMUS: I got their first CD way back in my college days when I was an editor at the school paper. Having seen pictures of them all over UK magazines, I ripped open that CD in a sea of excitement. And I think I hated it. I sure can't remember it, so it obviously didn't grab me then. BUT I LOVE the new CD, Hide From the Sun. I think I like them better then their fellow Finland natives, HIM (calm down, I like HIM, but they can get kinda boring). This is a good CD to make out or sway to, sing along with, and simply listen to while trying to figure out what's up with the vocalist's hair.

2. KILL HANNAH: Their name had me at hello, their pictures showed me they had style and their tour dates (opening tours for Lostprophets in the US and Shiny Toy Guns in the UK) convinced me to check them out. And although the vocals took a bit getting used to, they eventually are what won me over. These songs are like sugar. Once you get them in your system you want more. more. more! Oh, and did I mention they have way hot merch? Skirts! I'll leave you with that.

*By Joelle, who will be interviewing Kill Hannah in January!!!!

the next 12 months....

...i want to see a new picture of Mickdeth every month. Because he is just THAT COOL, the Eighteen Visions bassist has his own calendar. It goes quite well with his new clothing company, Dethless, that is expected to launch in January. 18 V are one of my favorite bands to photograph, 98 percent because of Mickdeth. He is such a ham, but not in a corny way. He knows how to put on a show and give the crowd what they want. Plus, he is tattooed and straight-edge and a role model for all who aspire to be sober, colorful, and modeling while covered in fake blood. OK? Check it. www.myspace.com/mickdeth.

*By Joelle, who should go to bed now because she obviously is rambling and corny.

New Brunswick gets a heavy friggin' dose rock n' roll (and vivacity!)

There are few bands in this world worth an hour-plus stint of hiding in a cramped, cobwebbed, minimally sanitary public restroom stall for.

(Think I'm lying? I played tic-tac-toe on the wall to keep entertained. This was the first game I've won in a while, and I think my opponent just gave me a mercy victory anyway:)




Two such bands are Perfuma,

who debuted their supertall new bassist, Tucker (formerly of the Pennyroyals),

and Hero Pattern, who, as usual, owned the audience (and were quite guyvacious, which is like "vivacious," only without the feminine gender bias):

While I'm on the subject of "guyvacity," I would like to say that the man exiting the women's restroom last night as I was entering not only confused the daylights out of me, but also left the seat up and didn't flush. One of the three offenses is permissible, but gimme a break, dude. I don't know who this fellow was, but if he is reading this, I hope he knows that is repulsive, rude, and subject to castration herein.

Oh yeah, I went there.

*By Jess, who is grateful for the free Shirley Temple granted to her last night, and who is working on six hours of sleep in the last three days and therefore apologizes for a probable lack of coherence in this entry.

Wide eyed, alive

I really, really, really love The Junior Varsity. Their keyboardist, Nick Dodson, may very well be the sweetest guy in the world. So sweet, in fact, that my cohort Ashley and I took it literally and made the band brownies for their show tonight:

Aren't they festive and scrumptious looking? And check out my girl's color coordination. Good thing I didn't wear gray too, as I'd originally planned, otherwise we'd look like two cracked out Betty Crockers.

Not pictured: Me, because I was/am having a bad hair day.

However, our baked goods made us the absolute most popular women to ever step foot in the School of Rock.

Seriously girls, if you want a surefire way to have a hefty collection of phone numbers at the end of an evening out--just bring some sort of cake.

Okay, okay, being cute helps too.


*By Jess, who seriously only bakes for Junior Varsity shows, though if John Mayer asked for a pie, she'd probably oblige

Help our friends out!

Vote for Spitalfield here!
http://www.mtvu.com/music/freshmen/
They really deserve this and you can vote as many times as you want.


AND! Vote for the Jets here (or whoever, it's for charity so I won't get too mad at you):
http://chunky.com/clickforcansvote.aspx


*By Jess, who had a dream about the Junior Varsity last night and is looking forward to seeing them this weekend

Meet Scott and Aimee

and then read why we love them in the post below!

Got the urge to splurge?

Admit it, it's happened to you. It's happened to the best of us. You're out holiday shopping for friends and family and end up spending half your paycheck on yourself. After all, it was on sale/cheap/there was only one left/you had a bad week and deserve it, etc. And that's just shopping retail. Now onto the Internet and an album you need to buy off it.

You suffered all year long listening to disapointing releases and the same 'ol boring songs on the radio. You owe it to yourself to hear something invigorating. Something that hasn't been done so well since Sonny and Cher. The most romantic unromantic, inspiring and sexy sounds to come from, well, anyone.



Meet Scott and Aimee. Fall in love. They did. You deserve it.

The story goes like a little like this: Scott Russo gained major musical cred fronting the legendary punk-turned-rock band, Unwritten Law. He's known as the "bad boy," with a rep for doing naughty things like lighting up midset while performing onstage at the smoke-free CBGBs (RIP) and pissing off the soundman to the point where he shut the lights off on the band. Meanwhile, Aimee Allen is making a name for herself as a solo artist and scores a gig opening up for Unwritten Law on tour. Aimee met Scott and soon her name was etched into his guitar as "Scott Loves Aimee." Sparks flew and a beautiful side project was born soon after. And boy does it have attitude!

"Scott and Aimee Sitting in a Tree," is their debut album. But don't expect lovely dovey songs here. We'll leave the puke indusing tunes to Jessica Simpson and whoeverher father cons into marrying her next.

Scott and Aimee have lived life on the edge and survived to write about it. Their personalities shine through and capture listeners. With the chorus "I don't want to be your Miss America, I won't be your queen for just one day," the song "Miss America" is an anthem for young women everywhere. Not since Alanis back in '95 has a women singer taken such a powerful stand for womenkind as Aimee Allen. Girls, take notes. Songs like "I'm Not Your Girlfriend," suggest fucking for the fun of it (Sex and The City anyone?) and "Girl With Issues" should help all those little emo girls from slicing their wrists once they see what real pain is.

With various musical styles, from hard rockin' "Good Times" and "Kiss the Gun" to reggae infused "Southern California Kind of Love" and the acoustic "Too Fucked Up (To Be in Love)," the pair are packing in venues, drawing 500 Cali kids (and Mr. Kid Rock and Pamela to shows, but that's another media frenzy). Those of us out East are deprived for now, but at least we have the CD and some really cool merch to get by.

Listen to them here: www.myspace.com/scottandaimee


*By Joelle, who doesn't really like female singers but has a non-lesbian crush on Aimee and has loved Unwritten Law ever since she heard "Teenage Suicide" on a surfing video and listens to "Sitting in a Tree" nonstop.

All I want for Christmas (besides you, dear reader) is an end to shitty musical nepotism.

I'm not talking the father-son kind (because really, Bob Dylan's spawn did well with The Wallflowers, and Sean Lennon's new work is pretty damn good). I'm talking the sibling variety.

First we had Aaron Carter riding the coattails of his Backstreet Boy older brother, Nick. In an orange jumpsuit. And chains. On a trampoline. How utterly gangster, and I say that with an "er" instead of an "a" at the end deliberately.

Soon, we had the Duff sisters (Hilary, who hints occasionally that Aaron Carter actually inspired the hit "So Yesterday," despite her not really writing it), butchering my two favorite songs by two of my favorite bands of all time, The Go-Gos and Blondie. I feel that whoever allowed this to happen should be sent to Abu Ghraib. No paycheck is worth that humiliation. Oh, and speaking of "So Yesterday," I'd like to reiterate a lyric from that for you guys, only because I have to hear it at work every day: "If the light is off, then it isn't on." No shit, sister. The lightbulbs in your overpaid lyricist's heads must have been dimmed to the point of darkness to come up with such inane garbage.

Then we had the Simpson sisters trying to sing. As if Jessica weren't bad enough with her alternately wailing-whispering-hacking (I'm quite ashamed to have her as a namesake), we decided that we wanted more complete and total shit on radio, so we give her gravelly-"voiced" sister a record deal, and she winds up selling even more albums than Jessica ever did despite her ability to vocalize anything besides publicist-bullshit-diatribe (acid reflux my patootie) live being more than a little questionable.

And now, my friends?

Lindsay Lohan's little sister, Ali, is releasing a Christmas album.

If someone would give me a taser as a stocking stuffer, I'd put an end to this insanity.


*By Jess, who is happy that the Jets won today.

Three things every cool kid does:

1. They give The Miracle of You donations so they can get a new van after their old one got totaled (remarkably, my driving was not involved).
To make a fast, secure, and easy donation, use the PayPal button on www.myspace.com/themiracleofyou. Any donations of twenty bucks or more gets you a neat shirt that they designed themselves (and those boys are snazzy dressers--they often wear cool hats). These guys are good friends of mine, good huggers, and just good people who had some bad luck. And Christmas is coming. Be nice to them and Santa will be nice to you (or karma, if you don't celebrate Christmas).

2. They keep me company at Hero Pattern shows.
Tomorrow night around 9 PM, these fellas will be playing at The Saint in Asbury Park. It's 18+, so if you're legal, you should come out and dance and sing and have fun with me. And you get bonus points if you're tall enough to be able to get pictures of that dirtbag drummer of theirs (kidding... mostly) without being blocked out by a cymbal like I always am.

3. They take my final exams for me.
Hey, it was worth a shot.




*by Jess, who is a fundraising aficionado

Thoughts....

As I am sitting here in this cubicle style office my house has, I realized something pretty deep (deeper than I usually go...) Our whole lives we are striving to achieve the next step, the next goal, whatever it may be. Whether we are waiting to find out if we got the job, to find out if you got into college, or waiting for your band to gets its big break, or, just simply waiting for your food at a restaurant. We are ALL guilty of being in a rush....and not taking time to enjoy what's going on around us. I know I am. I realized today, that once you achieve the ultimate goal, whats next? Where do you go from there? We usually don't sit content with sucess for to long, we get bored so damn easily. SO, in turn, you/we being waiting for the next big mile stone. I have found that sometimes the most profound and most important things that happen to us, happen when we are waiting (and rushing) for the next big thing.... Life is happening, and you don't even know it. It's scary to think that while I was waiting for a guy to come along to sweep me of my feet (so-to-speak), I found myself with a job...and in turn, a career path. Something that I thought was always so far off in the distance.

My eyes were opened when I found out that a friend I had in high school recently died in a car accident. He wasn't a terribly close friend, just one I would always rely on for a good laugh, good advice. He used to ask me why I am always in a hurry to grow up, and I used to tell him over and over again, that I had things to do, I have a life to figure out. I've got news for y'all. Our lives are more figured out than we care to acknowledge....we are just to busy trying to change ourselves to realize it. He looked forward to the drive rather than the destination, I want to be more like that.

I hope that at some point today, all of you just simmer down, and instead of blowing off that phone call, answer it, and talk to the person. When you are waiting in line for that coffee, ask the person behind the counter how their day is going, don't rush them. In the scheme of things, 5 minutes is nothing, yet to someone, it could be everything....

SO, now everyone can go back to doing what they were doing. Just had a thought I figured I would share.

By the way, I am totally pissed that CVS sold out of my favorite lip gloss. What the heck? I am in neeeeeed!

Peace&Love
Amanda

Major Label Scout VCAST

Shiny Toy Guns VCAST

Thank you, thank you very much.

I'm taking an astronomy course this semester, and I did better than most of the class did on my midterm for it (which isn't saying much, considering the mean score was slightly over 50%, but I digress), and that is going to be my license for the proceeding entry. I'm not sure where I originally intended on going with this, but for what it's worth:

By John D. Fix's Astronomy: Journey to the Cosmic Frontier textbook definition, the universe is "all the matter and space there is." Therefore, there is no real center. Can there be a center of everything everywhere?

And with that, being a rather at times self-centered girl myself, I have to say how disgusted I am with people in general thinking they are, in fact, that elusive center of all space and matter.

Here's where I get cliche: Tomorrow is Thanksgiving. Be thankful for everything you've got, because it's probably more than you realize. Instead of bitching about not having a boyfriend (can you tell I hear this shit all the time? Seriously, stop coming to me with this issue girls), be happy you're not a widow or in an abusive relationship. Instead of complaining about traffic, be happy you've got a car and somewhere to go with it. Instead of whining about how your mom's pumpkin pie recipe is going to go right to your hips, be happy you're not having your dinner alone in a soup kitchen like so many others.

The fact is, the universe is a rather large place. Even if one of us were to be the legitimate center of it (that seems to come with a lot pressure, doesn't it?), that doesn't mean we don't need to pay attention to the rest of the space and matter around us. Open your eyes. Read the newspapers. Do something charitable. What good is being the center of the universe if you don't improve the infinite masses surrounding you?



*By Jess, who is thankful for Kingdom Come by Jay-Z, The Best of Depeche Mode Vol. 1, and for a large container of cashews on her kitchen counter that grants her the liberty to say "Dude, get off my nuts" whenever she pleases.

Attn: Converse, your day is over

While I was getting my hair dyed today, I looked over at the 40-somethingish surban mom getting her frosted hair straightened. She was wearing brand spankin' new Converse, so clean you could probably eat off them.

#1-- Converse are NOT supposed to be clean.
#2-- She was an uncool mom.

Now, in the next chair over from her was a three year-old little boy. Wearing... CONVERSE!! His mom was also totally unhip, but he looked adorable so it didn't matter.

The moral of the story? Punk's look has gone totally mainstream and either has to be taken back, or better yet, get even more creative, push fashion boundaries even further and look unique again!!! Fishnets, cut-off tights under skirts....these looks all generated from punk rock and are now available off the rack at Macys. Oh, and the best, saddest example ever? SKULLS!!!! They are so totally uncool now that designers have started using them--I even saw a skull hoodie in a HIP HOP store the other day!!! But the clueless mainstream shoppers take pride in wearing them now, so enjoy it, 'cause we cool fashionistas (i hate that word, why did i use is??!!) will find something better.

*Joelle, who went from jet black to almost platnium blonde--hey it's a work in progress to get there! lol

Let the Girl Set the Speed!

This post is about etiquette.

I know what you might be thinking: what is a post about etiquette doing in this blog? Or maybe you're thinking "Jordana... she's the girl who writes about sex, I know what this post, with a subject like 'Let the Girl Set the Speed,' is about!"

For the record, when it comes to relationships or sex, the speed should be set by whoever is at a slower speed. You've got all the time in the world; if you rush it someone is going to be uncomfortable (Person "A" at Slow Speed "X").

However, that is all completely different from what I'm getting at here. What I'm getting at here is etiquette, not advice like what I've offered above.

So lets get to it...

Guys, when you're walking next to a girl, let the girl set the speed!

On my way into work this morning I was blissfully unaware of everyone and everything until this guy I had met a few weeks earlier called out to me, ran up behind me and insisted on catching up with me by walking me to my office. (On a side note, it's crazy how I always seem to run into someone I know in this city of over 8 million, but that's for another time...)

I had been happy with my stroll down the crowded New York sidewalk, and to be honest, my new heels didn't want me to do more than a 20-minute-mile speed. But Mr. Met-You-A-Few-Weeks-Ago-At-So-And-So's-House-Warming, despite the fact that he had insisted on walking me, wanted to sprint down the sidewalk, implying by his fast steps, that I should pick up my speed as well.

Dude. You try walking on your tip-toes, being supported by a peg that has a circumference less than half of an inch while your toes are being pushed together and circulation is being cut off to your baby toe!

I know, I know, you didn't make me wear them. I bought them of my own free will and wore them just the same. I'm not asking for your sympathy, I'm just asking for some manners: if you find yourself in the presence of a sweet and lovely female in heels, let the girl set the speed! Hang back, enjoy your walk. Let her try to enjoy hers as well. If you really want to score big points with her, don't make her walk over grates either. Grates are the kiss of death to any chica in heels.


*Jordana (currently wearing slippers!)

NEW VCASTS!!!

www.youtube.com/user/planetverge

enjoy

RIP CBGB

I was recently asked what my favorite music venue is and so I would like to bring my answer here and have a moment of silence for CBGB.

I have so many personal memories there, from having my birthday party/shows there every year to seeing awesome bands... There's a whole vibe there that is nowhere else. A whole community of people that always come out and you know them all. Even if I always had to walk ten blocks to get to a McDonald's to pee 'cause I won't dare use the toliet there, I loved it. I don't know why more people didn't protest when it closed.

This is during the Planet Verge sponsored showcase for The Pennyroyals a few years back. Dr. Dot hosted the event.

Even the homeless people were fun. A few years ago, Jordana and I had a funny experience with one. She was interviewing Jeremiah Freed, a band I do publicity for, outside CBGB for her show, Sex, Reim and Rock 'N Roll. In the middle of the interview, a homeless man came up to the band and asked them for money. Quite classic.

What's really interesting is that over the years, my FIRST and LAST show there was to see Fixer. My last CBGB show was also Fixer's last CBGB show. So it was a whole buncha moments in one. I've also gotten to see special shows like Unwritten Law play there. Even if CB's moves to Vegas, it will never be the same. Ever.

So now-- Maxwells in Hoboken. Good sound, love the back lounge and the best french onion soup ever in the restaurant (also a bonus that you can sit and eat when bad bands are on).

*By Joelle, who is no joke, listening to the Backstreet Boys debut CD right now.

Screw Sephora, seriously.

Say that five times fast.

Anyway.

I went in there a few days ago to pick out cologne for a platonic gentleman friend's birthday, and upon my entry, a woman lunged at me, flailing a miniature, shimmering, berry-scented tube in front of my face.

"Free lipgloss samples!" she said, smiling so hugely I swear her teeth made me temporarily blind. Either that or those fluorescent lights they use in there to make you look uglier than normal so you buy more makeup.

I couldn't say no to something that smelled so delicious, so I tried it.

After I put it on, the girl--Sheila, I believe--said the following.
"Yeah! It's our new lip plumper!"

This, my friends, made me want to kill myself.
I spat, I sputtered, I scrambled, and I grabbed for any and every wipe, cotton ball, tissue, and swab within a hundred yard radius. "Lady, does it look like I need this?"

I suppose in retrospect that this should have relieved me of my proverbial "trout pout" complex, because someone was insisting that they should look bigger than they actually are. But sweet Jesus, if I had left that shit on, I might have wound up swallowing my own head.


*Jess, who hates when people pout in pictures and thinks "It's Raining Men" is one of the most underrated songs ever

Come hang out with us!

Planet Verge and Washington Ave. present a really awesome night of music with our friends Roses Are Red (TRUSTKILL). You'll no doubt have a time. (Remember in My So Called Life-- "We had a time." ?)

Here's the details:

WHEN: Saturday, Nov. 25

WHERE: Hamilton St. Cafe, Boundbrook, NJ

WHO: Roses are Red, Crash Romeo, Zoloft the Rock & Roll Destroyer, The Transit War

Get your butts out here Jersey!!

LISTEN TO TEDDYBEARS!

If you are into a mix of electronic, pop and rock (electropock - a word i just made up) you must listen to Teddybears and their latest album Soft Machine. I fell in love with their single Cobrastyle and then heard it again on Grey's Anatomy (my favorite TV show I must add) last week.I haven't been able to rave about an album like this for a while- every song is just great for those times you're chillin over drinks with some friends, chillin in the car home, chillin over work in the office or just chillin' in general.ps. Punkrocker featuring Iggy Pop rocks my world!

*Shira

No Regrets...

...if you go listen to this band now: SOHO DOLLS

Hailing from Soho, LONDON--not New York City--Sohodolls are an electro glam rock band ala Shiny Toy Guns but better. On the mic is Maya von Doll, a sexy frontwoman with the balls of Scott Weiland (she's known to get shirtless at shows with nothing more than masking tape across her nipples). Their music video for "Stripper" is so hot you'll have to pour water over yourself when you're done watching it. And that's all I'm gonna say because you should be listening to them instead of reading this!

Interview with Soho Dolls: http://www.planetverge.com/PlanetVerge06/Innerview/SohoDolls.asp

Their SPACE: www.myspace.com/sohodolls

Watch the videos: www.sohodolls.co.uk

*By Joelle, who despises dance music but LOOOOVEs Sohodolls and digs Shiny Toy Guns, too.

Oh boy, do I love a good sociopolitical debate.

Darryl, I respect your ability to voice your opinions on abortion and a woman's right to choose (despite your belief that we shouldn't be entitled to that). However, I must respectfully voice my own disagreement. Allow me to begin by stating that when you say things like the following, it's extremely difficult to take you seriously:

"I find it interesting you call me closed minded yet you go off on a tyrade
about my beliefs. You insult me and call me names because I believe that
brutally murdering innocent children is wrong. I guess it's true what they say
about liberals...you become so open minded your brains fall out.I find it
interesting liberals are only open minded to people who share their own
beliefs..."

In your having the audacity to tell me that as a liberal my mind is so open that it's empty, you're also leading me to question your own literacy (see italicizations). But that, my friend and fellow child of God, is a digression. In regards to the actual point you were attempting to make regarding liberal openmindedness (which, my friend, I should point out, is one word): I cannot speak for every liberal in the world, but my brand of liberalism values everyone's right to choose and to believe in whatever they want--and, as stated previously, this includes my support of your ability to voice your views, despite my own being very different.

While I am not necessarily an advocate of abortion in itself, but of the woman's choice whether or not to have one. From a purely constitutional and legal standpoint: if you revoke a woman's right to choose what happens with her own uterus, you're setting extremely dangerous precedents for relinquishment of other rights of choice--women's suffrage, for example. It's not that big of a stretch to say that if at some point in time women no longer have the freedom to control their own bodies that we soon won't have the right to elect officials to represent us. Way to set the fairer (in every sense of the word) sex back nearly one hundred years.

And as for this lovely vignette:

I used to be a fan of your magazine. I am a huge Jeremiah Freed fan. We
probably have even seen each other at JF shows in Portland. I know other
supporters of your magazine who are against abortion and I am going to have
them pull support from your magazine.

Feel free, pal. I like to think we appeal to a more intelligent, tolerant, and openminded demographic. Your closemindedness is proving a mind that's closed can't possibly let anything into it.

In fact, God forgive me for saying this--people like you that make me pro-choice.
Preventive defense, if you will.

*Jess, who thinks the word "fetus" is really funny.

The BIG debate

This morning, I logged into the Planet Verge Girls MySpace page and like always, added all our friend requests. This one guy had a picture that looked like he was with Ashlee Simpson, and since I like her style (not music or fake boobs, please...) I actually clicked on his page to see it. So it turns out Ashlee wasn't in that picture, but she WAS his background. So then I read his ABOUT ME and became INFURIATED. This is what it said:

I am a devout Catholic. I go to Mass as often as I can. There is nothing that is better in this world than to be close to Jesus at the Holy sacarafice of Mass. Along with being a Catholic I am an advocate for the defense of the unborn children. It's tragic that we have a real holocaust in this country and across the world where thousands of innocent children are being murdered every year and it's called a "choice." With all due respect, if you want your choice, then choose not to have sex. Once you choose to make love to your partner, you might get pregnent. Condoms are not effective, the pill isn't effective, abstinence is the only way. Once you are pregnant your choice is over and the unborn child has a right to LIFE, liberty, and the pursuite of happiness.

Seriously, who does this 'effer think he is? This is friggin MYSPACE. And he's well past his youth, on here with his love of female pop stars (are you sure you're not gay, Mr man of God?) from a small hick town trying to spread his CLOSE MINDED VIEWS!!!!

Now I am not into politics AT ALL. But as a woman, I follow the abortion issue. No man has the right to judge women who have abortions. It's their choice, their bodies, their lives. They have no idea what circumstances they made the decision to do so or how they will have that with them for the rest of their lives. Maybe men should not be the ones having sex either! Why is he trying to place the blame on women? Most abortions happen during the first few weeks of pregnancy, when the fetus is simply CELLS. There is no baby with little hands and fingers and toes. It's cells. Get over it. He should be happy someone perhaps decided to not live on welfare, ruin HER LIFE from having a baby when she was 15 or whatever, or maybe raped.

Ok, I'm ending this. I actually wrote that man a comment and said I thought he was cool until I saw how close-minded he is and that's sad. But then I deleted it and decided to write this.


*Joelle

Spitalove

Spitalfield are longtime fans of Planet Verge, and I am a longtime fan of Spitalfield. Mark loves us so much, I caught him playing with our latest print issue.




I want to commend New Jersey for showing them a more than satisfactory amount of love last night after the extremely lackluster Vintage Vinyl attendance last week.

They are nice boys. Talented boys. And cute to boot.
A common Spitalfield fan progression is as follows:
1. Buy their records.
2. See their shows.
3. Fall in love.

Oh, and if you don't believe me about the third step--you will. Oh, you will.


*By Jess, who rather enjoys the company of men from Chicago

Peacekeeper protocol

Dear Starland Ballroom Security Personnel,

I appreciate what you do. Honestly.

However, while I am in the photo pit about to exit at the conclusion of the third song of a set, I could really do without the shady, crew-cut-blonde, slightly paunched one of you continually putting his hands on my hips to move me.

When I say, "Watch it buddy, above the waist," that isn't supposed to be an invitation for you to ogle my rack. It's supposed to be an implied "I won't tolerate your hands on me anywhere, except maybe my shoulders, and that's even a bit unnecessary," only a lot less verbose because it's hard enough to hear with all the shit going on around us.

You're lucky you guys don't wear name badges, because I'd have you, the aforementioned offender, reported in an instant. In fact, I might just make a request that you guys have to do that from now on, if for no other reason than they check my bags at the door and would inevitably find the crowbar I'd try hiding in my purse to bludgeon you with the next time you cross my path, so I have to find another way to teach you not to degrade ladies.

I'm not sure what women from your planet put up with, but over here on Earth, things don't work that way.

Take heed, for you've been warned,
Hell hath no fury like Jess Sager scorned.

Yours truly,
Jessica Sager


*Jess, who finds inspiration in both Shakespeare and Twisted Sister

Why I ADORE Asbury Park

I love any place where Hero Pattern plays, but as of last night, I am specifically a pretty big fan of The Saint.

I was allowed inside because I'm press and I win at life, and I still can't get these two giant red Xs off my hands. Seriously, at first glance it looks like I was playing a bizarre game of tic-tac-toe on my limbs with a knife.

Knives... I should carry one of those with me at all times.

Walking across the street from my car toward the Saint door, two strange Asbury natives yelled that I "have a sexy ass body" and am "built like a rickshaw," respectively. I didn't know what a rickshaw was, so I googled it when I got home, and apparently I look like this:



I chose this photo in particular because it has a Communist symbol in the upper right hand corner, and we all know I loves me some Communism. In any case, I'm happy to know that I look like a bizarre backwards wheelbarrow-buggy hybrid (wheelbuggy?) commonly used in the Third World. I think.

Then, on my way back to my car, a man claiming to be hideously ugly (he wasn't exactly Lenny Kravitz, I'll admit, but I've seen worse mugs in my life) asked everyone in our party for money and gave us weird things like a flashlight and a t-shirt and empty jewelry boxes ("Wait for him to put something in it," the man said, not making things awkward at all for anyone). He also somehow knew I was Italian and warned everyone in sight not to mess with me because I'm probably related to Joe Pesci and that Italians kill everyone. He was pretty smart for a homeless dude, not gonna lie.

I slipped two bucks into his bag when he wasn't looking (for karma's sake--I'm a nice girl, really) and was quickly escorted back inside, then to Belinda (my car, for the ignorant) by drummer Mike Kundrath and guitarist Pierre Marceau, who happen to have a nifty new record coming out in Japan that I got to look at yesterday. If you're in Japan and you're reading this, you should buy it. And if you're not in Japan, you should buy it and import it. If other people can do it with drugs (I'm talking to you, Casino-fascinated Asbury native), you can do it with rock n' roll.


*Jess, who almost always gives money to panhandlers unless they're too greedy about it

why i "love" nyc

While I was waiting in line to catch a cab at Port Authority, the ten times overweight man in front of me turns around and starts asking me questions:

"Are you from around here?"
"Where are you from?"
"Are you married?" --I then tell him I am taken and he then asks "Are you loyal?" !!! And I, being half deaf from going to way too many shows in my past without wearing earplugs, say "No." I thought he asked if he was a LAWYER. So typical Joelle. So I then correct myself and he says "Is that what you tell all the guys or just me?" Luckily, a cab came for him.

I then went about my trip to J Records for a meeting, and walked like a half hour back to Port Authority to go home in rush hour. That is why New Yorkers are so skinny. Well, the skinny ones. All the walking. Yes, I may have saved seven bucks and got to pass eye candy (aka the Chanel doorman, single ladies go peep him!)along the way, but I'd rather be in dirty Jersey behind the wheel of my car blasting music and with the heat on.

<3 Joelle, who ate some Key Lime pie tonight.

AND!

since we are on the topic of la maquillage au naturale (pardon my french, seriously) ... i just recently got sucked into the gorgeous vaccuum that is sephora and dropped some dimes on some great stuff to liven up the ol' pallor: bare escentuals. i know everyone and their mom has seen the swirl-tap-buff sensation on every home shopping network in existence, but seriously.. the stuff works. sephora is selling kits for around $60 and they come with EVERYTHING.


check it out here: http://www.bareescentuals.com/

-or-

here: www.sephora.com

either way, find it. it's a boxfull of sexy.

and since we're on this topic... i am addicted to getting dolled up to portuguese powerpop powerhouse Cansei De Ser Sexy.

(note: cansei de ser sexy - portuguese = tired of being sexy... inspired by beyonce's pompous tush once muttering 'ugh... i'm so tired of being sexy.')

the band is dominated by femme fatales with names like lovefoxxx and they recommend making love whilst listening to death from above. rawr.

seriously, if this shit doesn't make you want to do spin kicks in stilettos, you have something wrong with you.

music is their hot, hot sex and, trust me, they will make it yours, too. (www.myspace.com/canseidesersexy)


*Brittany, whose roommate recommends using animal placenta-infused La Bella protein spray on teased, distraught hair.

For the ladies...

I found the best foundation EVER. And believe me, I have tried them all!

www.arbonne.com

The mineral foundation is all natural, crease free, gives you a healthy GLOW, eliminates the need for another powder after application, covers blemishes, doesn't wipe off on your clothes, lasts forever AND has an SPF.

Enough said.

*joelle, who wants a refund on MAC

Two things wrong with music:

The first one being that Spitalfield essentially played a private show for me last weekend because everyone around Woodbridge was scared of some stupid afternoon rain. You guys pansies all missed a helluva show--acoustic and lovely. Mark played with their new guitarist, Jeff Meilander, who looks like a much more attractive Kurt Cobain: and they were absolutely splendid, as per the usual. They performed a lot of songs from their new album, Better Than Knowing Where You Are, along with old favorites like "I Loved the Way She Said 'L.A.'" And they also treated me to a late lunch/early dinner afterward. Such class acts, those boys. Spitalfield deserve a lot more recognition and kudos than they're getting, but I think they're well on their way--and I'm looking forward to seeing them with Valencia this weekend. Kick ass.

Oh, and the other thing wrong with music?
Meatloaf. Covering a song originally performed by Celine Dion.
If I weren't so excited for the weekend, I think I'd have killed myself by now.


*Jess, who should stop eating Halloween candy before she has to be burned out of the house