Week in Review: What Is the ‘Rock Guy’ Doing Writing for the Village Voice?


In the week Duff McKagan took over our blog to personally tell you why he loves New York, some of us up and left and went to Cannes.

We got caught up inand then exacerbated–the media scandal of the week when we took NPR to task for censoring its own review of Outrage.

What else. The Pains of Being Pure at Heart played background to your romantic photo op at Bowery Ballroom. The Clipse went web 2.0 at Webster Hall. Lucky Dragons and Pauline Oliveros spent Saturday at the Stone. Children of Bodom and Lamb of God promoted bloodlust and energy drinks at Roseland Ballroom. Photos from the last USAISAMONSTER show. And if you’re gonna throw a shot glass at Crystal Antlers, please put a shot in it, you idiot from Tuesday’s Mercury Lounge show.

Fabolous: The Twitterview. A Place To Bury Strangers’ Oliver Ackermann tells you how to get out of that nasty Bushwick lease. There is no shame in wanting to read Devendra Banhart’s naked lady story from the Found book. Asher Roth sticks the Roots with their first ever lousy Fallon performance. How Tony Yayo triumphed over swine flu. And that’s still not Madonna on Lil Wayne’s “Revolver.”

On the long, numbingly repetitive ancestry of New York‘s “Let There Be Doom” Sunn0))) piece and, while we’re at it, a brief history of the Times‘ valiant attempts to give Fucked Up press without mentioning them by name.

Janeane Garofalo: “What the **** do I give a **** about what Bill O’Reilly says?”

Wayman Tisdale and Craig Arnold, R.I.P.

Plus, the long strange path to the surprisingly good Esmee Denters/Justin Timberlake single, “Casanova,” on T.I.’s Mary J. Blige-featuring “Don’t Forget,” Wilco: The Album, Wilco: the damage control, the Vivian Girls’ “Moped Girls” video, “I’m on a Boat” live, some pleasantly schizo New Orleans favor, 33 1/3’s recession list, Kanye Webst week, Sam Amidon covering R. Kelly, Cam’ron’s not-quite porno, American Idol, a formal acknowledgment that the Brian Williams/Deer Tick interview actually exists, and the uncomfortably great Charles Ray Show at Matthew Marks.

We’ll be back Monday.