Category Archives: name-dropping

ADVICE FROM DUDES IN A BAND: A CROWD ELECTRIC

Tonight we’re going to delve into a new thing on Apocalypstick, a little something called “Advice From Dudes In A Band.” The band in question is A Crowd Electric and they’re so fucking cool that looking at their photo made you a little cooler. (You’re welcome.) The duo (Sparrow Hall and David Crabb) hail from New York and just released their new EP, which is great to blast in your Mini Cooper with the top down as you drive down Sunset and is also great for when you’re just sick of hearing “Bulletproof.” They were kind enough to answer my inane questions.

APOCALYPSTICK: If you had to describe your music as a cross between a few different bands or artists, how would you describe it?

A CROWD ELECTRIC: Pet Shop Boys, Depeche Mode, Presets, and Bette Midler.

A: Pitch me “A Crowd Electric: The Movie.”

ACE: Two fabulous drag queens from late 80s Manchester time travel into the bodies of two white men in 2010 NYC. Beats ensue.

A: What should one wear to one of your shows?

ACE: Something that would work in a crowd scene in Blade Runner and a party scene in Less Than Zero.

A: What’s the worst thing someone can do on a date?

ACE: Say they like the Dave Matthews Band. Or under-tip.

A: What are your favorite places to go in Brooklyn?

DAVID: Bakeri, Five Leaves, CUP and Manhattan Inn in Williamsburg/Greenpoint. The Cobble Hill movie theatre where they STILL show real discount matinees in the afternoon.

SPARROW: DuMont, Brooklyn Label, HUGS, Blackbird Café, Le Grenier Antiques, Word Bookstore.

A: What’s the best compliment you’ve gotten on your music?

ACE: It drives them crazy.

A: What’s the worst thing someone’s said about your music?

ACE: It drives them crazy.

A: I’ve got eighty bucks and I want to have a fun night out. What should I do?

DAVID: Find someone to love and love you so intensely it hurts. If you already have that person, hurray! You’re halfway there. Then fuck, eat and watch a movie. Repeat as necessary.

SPARROW: Friday night in the East Village: A burger at The Smith, cheap drinks and a game of pool at Blue & Gold, then a night thrashing around a dance floor at Trash! Party at The Studio at Webster Hall if you want to look cool around people in pointy boots. Or Beauty Bar if you want to make out with someone to Justin Timberlake.

A: This last question is kind of intense. Do you like cats? And if so, do you like cats dressed as humans?

DAVID: I always enjoy animals dressed as humans, but I especially enjoy monkeys dressed as humans. Particularly if they’re acting out scenes from classic Hollywood films. That being said, I wouldn’t go to a circus if you paid me. The situation with animals there always depresses me. More importantly, I think Britney has (hopefully) put a moratorium on any more circus-themed pop for at least ten years.

SPARROW: Funny you should ask this. My first date ever involved me taking a girl to see the Broadway tour of Cats. Which is pretty baller when it comes to high school nerds. And the fact that she wasn’t even my girlfriend. That’s right, ladies. Hit me up on the A Crowd Electric website if you know how you want to be treated.

To put their music to the ultimate test (blasting it as you drive around at night) download “Reckless” here:

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Shameless Genlux Post!

(MAD MEN!)

I’ve been away and I’m sorry about that. But. BUT. YOU CAN TELL ME TO STUFF MY SORRYS IN A SACK, BECAUSE I COME WITH ANOTHER SACK. OF GIFTS. OF POMPOSITY. Sort of. My interview with Jason Lewis (aka Smith Jerrod) is out and ready to read in the latest issue of Genlux! The Summer 2010 issue, the one with Jessica Alba on the cover!

Now if you don’t get Genlux, guess what?? Thanks to the wonder of the Internet and the fine people at Genlux, you can read it ONLINE. AND EVEN CLICK THE PAGES AND THE PAGES TURN AND IT MAKES A NOISE LIKE IF YOU WERE REALLY TURNING PAGES. THIS IS THE FUTURE! MEET GEORGE JETSON! HIS BOY ELROY! DAUGHTER JUDY! JANE, HIS WIFE! DISGRUNTLED ROBOT!

Go here: http://www.genlux.com/inthisissue.htm. Hint: page 36 for the interview. My regular column is on page 114 and it’s about — what else — my hatred for Facebook. I KNOW, I KNOW. I also wrote something else in there — try to find it! You know, if you’re an unpaid intern at some production company and are really, really bored at work.

Friend Like Me — Robin Williams. Yes, the Genie song from Aladdin. So what? Don’t pretend you’re not going to download it and enjoy it. Don’t even.

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What I’ve Learned.

My friend Laura really knows how to pose in photos. She’s incredible.
The only person you can really ever depend on is yourself, so don’t let yourself down!
You can exercise every day but if you eat crap it’s not going to make a damn difference.
Opportunities are there for you to take advantage of. If you don’t, you have no one to blame but yourself!
There is always someone out there stupider than you are.
Rihanna is hard. So hard.
It’s ok for me to say no.
If you’re not being true to yourself and who you are, then there’s no point in even being there. So if you feel you need to paint a lighting bolt on your face to go to a party, then you better fucking do it. Be you!
People are not going to go out of their way to help you.
Image is reality. You can look like who you want to be, even if you’re not. The rest will follow.
Don’t make it easy for people to flake out on you.
This industry scares me.
To be perfectly honest I’m pretty lazy.
I’m so afraid of people saying no that I don’t give them the chance to say yes.
Cooking something is the quickest and easiest way to feeling accomplished.
Marcia Cross is crazy nice.
No one has a definitive answer. One person might hate something that another person loves. All you can do is your best. All you can do is try.
If you don’t try then you can’t complain.
Everyone loves capes. It makes you feel like a kid again.
Dating an actor is a terrible, terrible idea.
Dating a musician isn’t really worth it either.
No one our age knows what they’re doing.
We have no idea how much we should be enjoying our youth.
I would date Kanye West in a heartbeat.
Everyone has to start somewhere. No, really. It’s OK if you’re just starting out. Just own up to your inexperience. Then gain experience.
Only you can make your dreams come true! It sounds corny and it is until it happens. Then it’s fucking rad!! So make it happen!
Whenever it looks hopeless just look at Mickey Rourke. If he can make a comeback, so can you.

Effect & Cause — The White Stripes

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Party Chat

Last night was bizarre.
First of all, yesterday began with The Mad Men casting. I waited in a long ass line only to be told at the front of it that since I was not registered with central casting I needed to come back tomorrow. Oh hell naw. I called my mom and begged her to come by to give me my social security card which I needed for registration and the beautiful wonderful woman that she is, she drove out to Burbank to give it to me. (Yes I live with my parents, and No I don’t think that’s sad. But I am going to milk it until it gets sad.) So finally once I registered I had to wait in another long-ass line so I could be photographed so the casting people could look at my photo out of hundreds in their casting book and somehow pick from that my beautiful face.

I think I looked great. They have my number and they’re going to call it? Right? Right. I would give my left tit to be on Mad Men.


(Natalie Wood is so goddamn fantastic)

Because I spent the entire day at the casting I had to go straight from there to this party in Hwood that my dear friend Laura was invited to because she writes for Angelino magazine. I was her plus one! By the time I got there I had a massive headache because I realized only then that I hadn’t eaten since breakfast because of the casting. The party was hosted by Julianne Moore and was promoted by Soyjoy, who we soon found out, makes fucking disgusting soy protein bars. I needed food so I chowed that down as well as the microscopic hours’dourves that were circulating. I also threw back a small sour apple martini and chugged down 2 bottles of water.

We got to stand a few feet from Julianne Moore and holy fuck the woman is tiny. She’s maybe 5’4” and this is in heels. And she looks like a goddamn 20 year old. She’s gorgeous. (From the back though her elbows give her age away. But she’s still fucking gorgeous.)

By this time my head wouldn’t stop throbbing. Some sort of iron chef show was about to start, with Julianne Moore as one of the judges, so we went upstairs to watch. Along the way I ran into a lovely girl who was at the Mad Men casting so that was fun. LA is really very small.

We sat upstairs and in a few moments we realized that Amy Smart was sitting across from us with her publicist or something. She was wearing an absolutely hideous dress. It looked like a giant scarf. WTF.

And suddenly I began to feel quite nauseous.


I’m sitting there, feeling sick, my head throbbing when Laura says the most beautiful words: “This is dumb, I wanna go.”

So we left and then I realized, I need to get to the bathroom, now. I felt myself ready to vomit and I really didn’t feel like embarrassing myself. However the line to the bathroom was long so I said, “Fuck it, let’s go” and figured maybe I could force it down. Thankfully a beautiful man said, “Are you looking for more bathrooms? There’s some downstairs.” I could have hugged him, but instead, my stomach having heard the news, sent me on a mad dash to the restrooms.

I threw up the ritz cracker-sized turkey burger appetizer. I told Laura I was sick but that I was okay. So off we headed into the night.

As she was driving me to my car I realized that I needed some advil because my headache was even worse. And then I realized something horrible: I was going to be sick again. Thanks to Laura’s mad driving skills we made a screaming left turn into an alley near a 7-Eleven where a homeless man watched me vomit into the street while poor Laura, horrified, could only mutter, “Oh MY God.” I then went into the 7-Eleven to purchase advil, tums, and a loaf of white bread, since I remember hearing that bread was good for an upset stomach.

We drove to the parking lot where my car was, and sat. I could barely eat any bread and I have never wanted to be home so badly in all of my life. I could feel another wave of vomit rising so I convinced Laura that I was absolutely fine and was ready to drive home. She reluctantly drove away and as I watched her hybrid disappear into the night, a geyser of vomit erupted from my throat, sending me into fits of projectile vomiting in the bushes of a parking lot, splashing my dear Marc Jacobs pumps in the process.

However, after that, I felt much better, and got home without further incident.

I still have no idea what happened. I am not the sort of person who gets randomly sick like that. And I’ve fasted all day before, on Yom Kippur, and usually break the fast with champagne, so I don’t know what made last night any different. It was one of the weirdest things that has ever happened to me, but it made me realize the truth in an old cliche:

Timing is everything.

Imagine if I had vomited at Julianne Moore’s party?

It would have been Far From Heaven and the last of my Boogie Nights, for after an incident like that, my name would be one of The Forgotten and I would be known as the Psycho who was ill.

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