Restaurant Week Regret

Here's a tip for The Prime Rib, on 17th and Locust....don't choose to participate in restaurant week if your staff plans on treating it's patrons like second hand citizens because they're there for the "cheap" meals. Isn't restaurant week supposed to be about happily letting those who normally wouldn't dine in your establishment a chance to see what you have to offer at a reasonable price?

Now, I have no problem with the food I ordered. As a matter of fact, I think I orgasmed when I took my first bite of my prime rib entree. However, I was under the impression that it came with two vegetables. But as I sat there, eagerly anticipating a hearty meal, I notice you hand me a plate with only prime rib and no vegetables. I, and the party of 6 that ate that night were given ONE saucer of mashed potatoes, that my grandmother could have eaten entirely on her own, to share amongst the table. Thank you, Prime Rib, for being so kind and letting me receive a nibble of mashed potatoes to go with my meal.

I also appreciate your wait staff eying my table up the entire time we were eating like we're plotting a dine-n-dash. I've never been hurried out of a restaurant so quickly after eating in my life. If you're establishment's goal by participating in Restaurant Week is to recruit new patrons, you are failing miserably. Your staff is disrespectful, pompous, and I never plan on stepping foot in there again. A tip for you folks at The Prime Rib....try to be a little more courteous the next time you're serving somebody; you never know if they write for a blog that nobody reads.

Newsies

FINALLY made it to a show on time last night! Girl Talk absolutely KILLED it last night. I can't praise Girl Talk enough and it's just something you have to see live to really appreciate. Straight up 2 hour sweaty dance-athons are never my thing, but when it comes to Girl Talk I have to make the exception.

To the one who openly girl-raped me on the stage last night: I was pretty cool with you grinding up on my shit at first, even a little excited because you're pretty cute. Then I looked into your eyes...or at least tried. They were completely rolled back in your head and it's clear you had no idea who the hell you were dancing with, let alone remember any part of the show last night. I feel sorry for girls like you who put yourselves out there for any douche bag guy to take advantage of at clubs, then wake up the next morning trying to remember "what happened last night" only to find out you were raped. Please be smarter and safer when going out.


GO SEE DRINK UP BUTTERCUP this Wednesday or next at the Fire. Their September residency is coming to an end.

ALSO GO SEE DESOTO JONES this Friday at the Khyber. It's nothing new in terms of instrumentation, but the writing is great. "Non Fiction" is single material and sounds like old Third Eye Blind with new Moses Mayfield. I can't wait to see these guys live, as they've been on my watch for good while. I don't know who the band knows at Radio 104.5 but they were getting plays like they owned the place earlier this summer. It's toned down a little since, which is nice because I don't have to hear the DJ's pump the band like they're the next Soul Asylum (lol). Nonetheless, a good radio-friendly band that with just a little tweaking and a better look could be great.

Looks like people are finally starting to jump on the War on Drugs bandwagon, noticing that the band really does encompass some sort of potential. Their headlining spot at the Khyber is sure to draw a decent size crowd. Like I mentioned back in July (when nobody seemed to want to listen to me), these guys are a great live show. Some of the tangents they go on leave you memorized, while the Dylan-esque vocals keep you wanting more. Want to hear something all too similar to War on Drugs (as well as a failed attempt at today's artist development)? Check out the old Hockey stuff.


I won't be around to check out any bands this weekend, so I'm leaving you all in the dark. Baltimore is calling my name, luring me to the inner harbor for the Red Sox-Orioles series. Way too much drinking and harassment will be flowing in and out of this New-England boys mouth this weekend. Love that dirty water....let's go Sox!

Secrets Don't Make Friends

Thanks a lot to the guys at First Unitarian for letting me into the WAY sold out Myspace Secret Show with Peter, Bjorn, & John. My dumbass decided to get to the venue 20 minutes into PB&J's set, but still managed to catch great renditions of "Objects of My Affection" and "Up Against the Wall." Of course, half of the faux-hipsters and children with 11pm curfews exited the venue after "Young Folks," but they know no better. But the song and video will always remain timeless.

It's good to see that Drink Up Buttercup scored a residency at The Fire for September. As I previously said, these guys have a ton of potential and it will be interesting to watch them progress and turn into a Philly favorite over the next few months. Their songs are still a little thin and could use some work structurally, but they're clearly on the right track. Although the band is still somewhat of a secret, my predictions are that by the time they play JB's in October they'll have a great local following.

I should have mentioned this earlier this week, but Braxton Parker's show at WCL this past weekend was great. Anyone who knows local music already knows this guys name, so I know I'm preaching to the choir here, but he just flat out fits the mold for pop music. I didn't think he's be able to pull off the live show flying solo, but I was proved wrong. Everything was looped perfectly and he worked his equipment flawlessly. However, a little too much reverb left something to be desired vocally. Even I can sound halfway decent if I load up on the reverb. I also got the feeling that he suffers from John Mayer syndrome; panty-peeler ballads like "Everything Changes" are what Braxton seems to have a good grasp on. But he still feels the need to prove to the audience that he knows how to rock out. Unfortunately, his more up-tempo songs seem a little dated and recycled. Stick to the ballads, Braxton; the writing's great.... and chicks man, chicks!