I'M TAKIN FLIGHT, I SAID, I'LL NEVER GET ENOUGH

I was compelled to revisit the first Datsuns record yesterday; don't ask why. I had forgotten how much I love it. (PS, that link is not to their official page, but rather the one with the old tunes of which I speak). Truth is, I would never recommend The Datsuns to someone cold turkey. Every song sounds the same. The production is nothing to write home about. And yet that record - all 30-something minutes of it - so perfectly encapsulates the spirit of the indie music scene in the early 2000s. The "new rock revolution" (to borrow kindly from NME at the time). I won't even start the argument of whether the bands of that time - these Datsuns, Von Bondies, Interpol, Raveonettes, Hives, Vines, White Stripes, etc - are better than today's cache of crap because, as always, I assert that popular music opinion should be entirely subjective. However, there was such a swagger back then. The bands had such balls (which is even more impressive considering how tight their pants were). Datsuns live shows were practically events. Backbending, wall-climbing, sweat inducing events. And all these bands were playing and partying together. Making out in grungy hotels. Swapping spit, pills, and backing vocals. There was a palpable energy surrounding it all. I don't get a sense of vibe from today's "scene" (yeah that's right Vampire Weekend, MGMT, Chairlift, Yeasayer, Man Man, etc). Sure you may all be friends, shaking hands on the corner of Greenpoint and Franklin, but got a vibe to spare? Can you imagine a party with this group? I have visions of quilting bees, and like, people drinking PBR and writing alternative scripts to the Daily Show.

Speaking of Brooklyn pretension (and don't get me wrong, I definitely love Brooklyn, just not its accompanying crop of douchery), I was making my way back to Manhattan from the 'burg yesterday and found myself sat next to a man who couldn't have been more than 10 years my senior. Smoking a pipe.

Yes. A guy in his 30s. Smoking a pipe. In 2009. (Reading some yellowed book for added effect). I thought I'd seen it all, and then I got to 6th avenue. Where some guy was playing his digareedoo for the waiting commuters. Normally I would've been furious. I get intensely aggravated by people making unnecessary noise in the subway. But yesterday was different. Completely unintentionally, this digareedoo player was making sounds similar to the opening of one of my favorite Nine Inch Nails songs, Beside You In Time.

BESIDE YOU IN TIME, live (and still incredible)


Which got me thinking how fucking funny/amaze it would be if a bunch of subway musicians got together to form a NIN cover band. Complete with digareedoo and upside-down pail drums. The latter of which would come in handy for the opening of another fave, Love is Not Enough.

LOVE IS NOT ENOUGH


Can anyone else imagine that?

Anyway, finally, in honor of the Knicks winning and Dave Galea being the best sports watching buddy evs (mainly because he tolerates my long-winded explanations of why I would rather eff David Lee than David Wright) (the answer being because Lee is a badass, duh) - behold two of the most formative minutes of my sports fandom:



(Seriously, that year changed my life. I actually clapped after watching that clip and am not even remotely ashamed to admit it). (Ok, maybe a little ashamed).