In the land of Brooklyn, just a few blocks from The Music Hall of Williamsburg lies The Mast Brothers Chocolate Factory. Of course, to call it a factory is a bit of a stretch. What’s closer to the truth is calling it a brick enclosed love nest for cacao nibs and beard aficionados. They’re the 21st century version of Willy Wonka, with the cane swapped out for a fixed gear bike and the Loompa diddy upgraded to an iPhone stocked with Phoenix and The XX.
I first heard about the Brothers Mast a few months back after perusing a photo essay over at The Selby, but to be honest I thought they’re were full of it. Sure, they had the swag down to a T. And sure, maybe I was more than a little jealous that they could pull off the Iron & Wine Beard/Vest combo so well. But at $9.99-$11.99 a bar, was their chocolate actually that good?
Well, yesterday I stopped in Murray’s Cheese Shop in The Village and finally bought a bar. It was their Dark Chocolate/Coffee bar, a tag team done with Portland based roasters Stumptown Coffee. And. It. Was. Amazing. For real. It’s the real deal. Fuck that Hershey’s nonsense. Or anything else, for that matter. I finally get how chocolate could be an aphrodisiac. It was sexy. A sexy bar of chocolate. Unctuous and unreal.
So, without working myself up into another froth, let me just leave it at this: BUY MAST BROTHERS CHOCOLATE. Support them in any way, shape, or form. Grow a solidarity beard, if need be. But better tasting (and less itchy) is to just buy the bars. They use Fleur de Sel and Sea Salt. We need them.
Pomp. La. MOOSE. I have no idea if it means anything. What I do know is that they do amazing covers. They’re right up there in the cover pantheon that includes Jamie Cullum, Marco Benevento, Halloween, Alaska, and The Bad Plus.
And apparently I’m not the only one who’s noticed: the majority of the videos on their YouTube Channel have over a million views. Damn.
Perhaps the more important detail is how they got to be famous. They don’t play that many live shows. They don’t really promote themselves, at least not in the traditional corporate sense. They just sit in their San Fran apartment with their ambiguous relationship status, tons of instruments, a video camera, and some recording equipment and make great music. I love the internet. It finds real talent. And, for some reason, an inordinate amount of silly cat videos. As the world should be.
Get more Pomplamoose over at YouTube. Or support them on iTunes.
So, now that The Flight of the Conchords have just kind of…disappeared…it seems like the market has once again opened up for a comedy troupe from Pacific waters. And in a series of events that would make the Conchords themselves cringe, it looks like a comedy trio from none other than Australia is poised to take their spots. Now, we already knew that Australia had some comedic chops, but now it’s clear that they’re playing for keeps. The Axis of Awesome played their Four Chord Song at this year’s Melbourne International Comedy Festival, and while I’ll admit I was skeptical at first, it was really quite clever.
Brooklyn based artist Kevin Cyr (I just pronounce it c-y-r, like nyc. Sorry Kevin.) finds beauty not in status enhancing symbols, but rather the “derelict…and unkempt…vehicles inundated with rust and graffiti…”, objects that contain a thousand fold more character than a Porshe or Skyscraper. The socially “ugly” can still inspire curiosity in the viewer.
With this in mind, Cyr created a functioning (sculpture) hybrid of two staples of back road travelers: the RV and the bicycle. It’s (drumroll please): The Camper Bike. The aim isn’t to revolutionize the lifestyle of the wayward traveler; it’s just an experiment in combinations. But, if Kevin ever wanted to go commercial with the idea, I’d kinda want one.
Also check out the Camper Kart, for the traveler who prefers to amble through the countryside.
I live in Rhode Island and love it. It’s physically gorgeous and hovers around an almost unnerving level of eclectic throughout the summer months. It’s a curious little state.
Some of that curiosity comes from a man named George Wein. A little over 50 years ago, he established the Newport Jazz and Folk Festival. He’s the man that combined music and the ocean into one lovely little package. He also provided the setting for Dylan’s electric debut.
Anyway, over the past four or five years, the Folk Festival has done a phenomenal job of picking a nice mix of established talent and newcomers and this year is no exception. Mixing The Avett Brothers and Andrew Bird with Ben Solle (who kicked off A&V MIxtape No. 5) and Edward Sharpe & The Magnetic Zeros, it’s…just…god, I lov George Wein.
Not only that, the promo video released yesterday is sweet, mostly because it’s kind of reminiscent of a Spongebob/Puff the Magic Dragon mash up.
They say that watch it is “an animated GIF paranoia about non-stop design workers.” I say that watching it is time well spent. Side note: GIFs are SO Geocities circa 1996. Right? Nah.
Sure, you spend an embarrassing amount of time staring at your computer. But little do you know, you’re getting stared at in return. The good folks over at Conditional Design have taken the liberty to show us what it’s like on the other side of the mirror. See the rest of the Laptop Reflections collection here.
Currently on his Ben Folds and a Piano tour, Folds recently brought in a digital element to his show by using Chat-roulette with his audience. Playing in the style of Merton, the result is classic Folds. FYI, he edited out any nudity. Not that there’s any nudity on CR.
It’s one of those mornings where I’m getting quite giddy because I think I’ve found my new favorite thing. It’s that perfect mix of obscure, over the top, and hilarious that garners the respect it so rightly deserves. I give you Serge Gainsbourg’s Melody Nelson.
Released in 1971 as a concept album, Melody Nelson is basically a half hour long funky introspection by Serge recounting his Lolita-style love affair with the eponymous teen. The story (omgz spoiler alert) is as follows: Serge is trolling around in his Rolls Royce late one night when he hits Melody on her bicycle. Without missing a beat, he seduces her through the use of dark clothing and a lit cigarette and immediately following thereafter, they dance in front of a green screen for five songs, and then the torrid fling ends when Melody up and dies in a plane crash. Serge goes back to his cigarette and brooding introspection.
I probably should clear up here that the album itself is actually not that bad, in a corny French porn sort of way. I actually rather enjoyed it. It’s just…the music videos. Oh Serge. Those music videos. I dig that green screen was a fancy new technology in 1971 but just because you can be edgy and hip doesn’t mean that you should be. The future will most certainly laugh you off as a silly product of a bygone era (are you listening Lady GaGa?). Come on Serge, you must have realized that this would be recognized as hilariously embarrassing by future generations:
Oh well. C’est la vie. You can by the album on iTunes or blah blah blah blah blah seriously just stream it on YouTube.
The kids of New York’s P.S.22 are SO much more musically cultured than I was at their age. Led by their maestro Mr. B (probably one of the hippest faculty members the public school system has), these choral kids do Pheonix, Alicia Keys/Jay-Z, and Owl City (don’t judge). And they’ve even got ties with my neck of the woods, having teamed up with IC’s Ithacapella a little while back. See the rest of their (rather extensive) repertoire here.
