Dear Scene

hip·ster: n. Slang - One who is exceptionally aware of or interested in the latest trends and tastes

I had to look this up, because I was going to write this entry on the existence of the quote unquote hipsters in New York City, but I didn't want to go ahead and do that before I got a definition. The definition doesn't really help, which is actually better because I don't know what a hipster is and I don't think anyone knows what one is. But I think I have to say, I don't think I am one.

Friday night was to be my night of celebration for a couple of tough months, a night out on the town perhaps. First stop was Pianos to check out The Teeth and Spinto Band. Pianos was packed, as it usually is on a weekend. Chrissy and I grabbed our drinks and I showed her the proof of the magazine while we waited for Amanda. If there's anyone who deserves a first look, it’s Chrissy. She worked her ass of, and luckily she was pleased with how it looks on paper. When Amanda arrived and told the horrible tale of the L train, we made our way to the back just as The Teeth had taken the stage. We walked in about 1 foot. Yes, that's where we had to stop. If you've ever been to Pianos you know it's not the biggest space, but my god. I have never seen it that packed. The Teeth were fantastic and crazy. I couldn't see much, except a My Name Is Earl-esque mustache from one of the guitar players. That was pretty cool. I remember "I Love You" being a highlight. But the whole set was pretty solid and sounded great.

We ventured out of the hallway to where were confined to get some more drinks before the Spinto Band took the stage. It was even more packed. Where do all these people come from? Before we had time to contemplate that, we heard some sweet musical tunes so we turned around and walked another 2 feet right inside of the door. For the entire set I had my back to the stage, because I couldn't see a thing. If only I were about 2 feet taller. I wasn't as impressed by Spinto Band than I was by The Teeth, but that's not to say they didn't sound good. It was just hard to enjoy the show from my standpoint. However, when they played "Dear Mandy," you can bet that I sang my little heart out.

So we finished up our drinks and squeezed past the ever-increasing crowd and finally breathed some fresh air. With a little pit stop, we found ourselves at Orchard Bar for the after party where The Tarts of Pleasure were on decks. I had been meaning to hit up Orchard Bar for months (okay like a year) now, but either was too drunk at the time or somewhere else. I guess everyone else makes a better effort because Orchard was packed just like everything else in the Lower East Side on a Friday night. We squeezed past the masses to the end of the bar and while I was ordering my drink I felt a tug on my hair. I turned around to find Liz who was just about to leave because she couldn't find us. We grabbed our drinks and headed back to the "dance floor" where there was a little more room. Just a little.

I never ventured out to "clubs" ever because I'm no dancer and I assumed I wouldn't be down with the tunes. It wasn't until my summer in London that I realized that some clubs were worth the drunken dance moves. But there's a huge difference between the crowds at these "clubs" in London than New York. In London you would get these kids out there that would just go nuts over the music the DJs were playing. They didn't even need alcohol, they'd be screaming along the words and dancing up a storm. I didn't feel that in New York. While I was getting excited by each new track played by the Tarts, everyone else seemed pretty unaffected from tune to tune. I don't think it was the music that was bringing all those people to Orchard Bar, it was more of a "scene to be seen."

But this is nothing new. So as I got sick of my own singing, we squeezed back outside. Chrissy and Amanda called in a night, while Liz offered to buy me a drink at 2A. One drink later, I was in rare form so I hopped in a cab back to Brooklyn. I have no qualms with anyone that wants to call themselves a hipster, and if hipsters really do exist, then that's fine by me. I just hope that they go see these bands and go buy the music before they hit up all the after parties.

The Darkness - One Way Ticket

The Cribs - Hey Scenesters!

Brakes- Heard About Your Band

Nightmare of You - Dear Scene, I Wish I Were Deaf

We Are Scientists - This Scene is Dead