We can’t stop listening to this in the office. Definitely the highlight of SXSW was seeing Lykke Li play her kazoo / triangle / peace sign necklace and Saul Williams and David Banner at our space in quick succession.

B.O.B. and TJ Chapman from TJ’s DJs were there and after her set was over, they bumrushed her. I am hoping for a B.O.B. / Lykke Li trance-pop collabo forthwith.
“For you I keep my legs apart / Forget about my tainted heart” is the realest lyric of any song maybe ever?
More this weekend. These days have been crazy!

I bet Brandy is super freaked out by her brother’s whatever-whatever. But sure would like to hear an album about it. Word to Will C.

I can’t just leave it at that. This is Ray J Norwood, Brandy’s little brother. Me and Will, fellow hardcore Brandy fan, were marvelling at this today. I mean, donde esta Brandy? Yes she is dealing with the unfortunate circumstances of her car accident. And maybe she is still pissed off at Ray J for MTV Punk’ng her that one time. But like, did Ray J just emerge as the least likely of the yungin young dudes to actually come out strong w/out really clowning himself? Despite my now-faded Omarion obsession, deep down I thought it was gonna be Bow Wow, whose last kinda hot solo album and short PR stint as Ciara’s diminuitive boyfriend required at least a moderate amount of swag. But then he started getting jealous of Chris Brown and kinda acting like un bebe and did that record with Omarion where they were all talking about “panties off, we grown men now” but they didn’t do it with the aplomb Ray J did on his new album. And that’s even without the sex tape. The thing I like about Ray J’s totally sex crazed new record is that he approaches it in a super healthy way. He just kind of likes it, and therefore talks about it a lot. Even his songs about the stripper, it’s an appreciation, but it’s not misogy, it’s just like… well, it’s just like he is kind of happy. He is pumped that that girl is there, and there is no hate, or even a very overt power dynamic, involved. He seems like he has good self-esteem.

It’s telling that everytime I say “We’re closing the magazine” to non-mag folks they think I mean “our mag is ending” rather than what I really mean “this issue is finishing up and going to print.” Everyone: unless someone tells you that and they are crying and /or hysterical (but not necessarily if they look like shit and / or delirious), it means the next issue is shipping to the printer! And the book will live another day!
P.S. I found time between closing the book today to indulge my intensivo Ray J obsession, don’t sleep on the best album of possibly… ever? Thanks to YouPorn for research materials. Heh. Sigh.

Ran into my friend who works for a major newsmagazine (hint it ain’t Newsweek). They’re laying people off left and right, with little to no notice, so the press doesn’t get wind of it. They’re trying to save the magazine. I told her it needed to convert to the internet and start skewing left. The Huffington Post doesn’t even link to it. She said its 80-year-old fanbase probably isn’t trying to read it on the internet.
Outside the neighborhood vintage/antique/eccentricities shop: A Bear Stearns tote bag, priced up for those who can still afford irony: $25.
$105 million dollars is actually less than I figured the Clintons were raking in. That’s about 3/4 of what Wyoming spends on prisons.
At the wine shop, the owner said the importers are paying dearly thanks to the Euro vs. dollar issue. All wine bottles have gone up at least two dollars. California wines are following suit, because they can. The man in line behind me was British, and suggested Americans start buying Argentinian wines. I bought a Cote du Rhone for $11.99.
All day I thought about how the Europeans are taking over New York. I dont think it’s the terriblest thing, because more cultural diversity is good for every city, and this is a place built on foreigners, anyway. I just hate the American developers who are catering to their riches and forcing out the indigenous (see: New York magazine piece on the new Trump Soho condotel). But I don’t know enough about it yet to offer a less pat opinion.
The crime rate in the city’s gone up three percent. Down at the bodega buying cat food tonight, when a young shorty (I thought he was 11 or 12 but he tried to holler at me) addressed a boy from up the block, the rock house, about 17: yo i heard you’re the new head goon around here, how you like it? slingin to the crazies. The boy, less cautious than embarrassed, gave the bodega lady a dollar and a quarter for his orange soda. He left without answering.