The NY Chronicles: Williamsburg is Burning.

At the beginning of July, yours truly packed her bags, put her last pennies towards a plane ticket and fled to the sparkling, shiny city of New York. A month of exploration, adventure and decadence awaits. At least up until the money runs out. How did this crazy expedition come about? It all started when my lovely Manhattan-based friend Jenny sent me a message on Facebook, the subject of which was "Just to tempt you..". Her roommate was gonna go abroad for a month, thereby leaving her room in their lovely Harlem apartment vacant. Hell yes, is what i said. And to make a long story short - here i am, sitting in a New York apartment in the middle of a heatwave eating frozen yogurt and appreciating air conditioning like i've never appreciated it before.

Saying it's hot here is starting to seem like the understatement of the century. It's not just hot, it's wandering-in-the-desert-seeing-garden-gnomes, sweat-shooting-out-from-your-armpits-like-you're-the-man-from-the-Axe-ad, offensively-slap-you-in-the-face-with-a-reeking-hot-fish kind of hot. 

Despite this hotness, we decided to set out to Brooklyn and do some exploring in Williamsburg. As walking in the heat was rather painful and the going was slow, we stayed mostly on Bedford Street, making sure to keep ourselves properly hydrated (as one should, when one goes exploring and adventuring). 

We stopped by a couple of Vintage Shops, which are plentiful and very decently priced, like the one in the pic above, called Vice Versa. Toying with the idea of getting a Hawaii-print skirt from the seriously hideous 70s and a mallard-print shirt from the wardrobe of facepalm clothing-failures was probably influenced by the heat. In the end, better judgment dictated that the clothes in question would remain in the store, perhaps for some theme-party occasion or next hipster trend. What i did grab with, though, was a pair of black converse trainers for a whopping five dollars. 

Having done some shopping, we decide it's time for food, and decide to sample some serious fusion cuisine at Dokebi Bar & Grill.

The place is air conditioned, the interior is a nice mix of Asian eatery meets American diner, and what's best is, it's happy hour. I go for a spicy mushroom burrito, which is an interesting mix of Asian greens, beans, and mushrooms in a Korean BBQ sauce, served in a corn tortilla. It's good, it's filling, and at 7 dollars, it's a good deal. 

After food and a couple of cold beers, we brave the heat and head out. We don't get too far, cause we spot the nice rooftop terrace of Juliette's Bistro, and decide we've come far enough, and it's time for a drink. 

Cocktails are the way to go. My cocktail of choice - the Guillotine - is heavy on the rum, which seems appropriate for this tropical climate we're enjoying. Also, rather than hydrating us, this alcohol-drinking is doing the opposite. I think i see a garden gnome scampering across the terrace from the corner of my eye. We agree it might be time to head home.

All in all, despite the sweltering heat, we agree it's been a fine day of exploring. I resolve to come back to Williamsburg, preferably on a day when the temperature isn't in the triple digits and the garden gnomes aren't on the move.

Arcade Fire

Monday, June 28th. The midsummer stupor and deserted streets of Helsinki just a couple of days ago seem to have never happened, as a steady stream of flannel-shirted, bespectacled hipster-types fills Senaatintori. Between the shining whiteness of the monumental Tuomiokirkko and the stage that seems to have appeared out of nowhere in the space of a day, the stone steps are a-buzzing with the lucky folk who have decided to dish out 50 euros for the privilege of seeing Arcade Fire perform outside Helsinki Cathedral.

It's late in the afternoon, and it's hot outside. We get to the square when the line to the fenced-off concert area is still small. Seeing waving friends in the crowd, we secure seats next to them. The view is good, the weather is good, the people are good. It's really quite exciting, seeing as this is the first high-profile, admission fee-charging gig in this particular central Helsinki public space. 

The supporting act, Micachu and the Shapes, start their set right on time. Based on checking these kids out on MySpace, i'm looking forward to seeing them live. Their set gets off to a sticky start; in addition to their music being eccentrically quirky, their stage presence and verbal output is a little awkward. The biggest applause they draw from the audience is when frontman Micachu talks about what a great band Arcade Fire is. Hell, it's a big band to support and a big stage for three to fill. "They're stoned out of their minds", a friend observantly remarks. Be that as it may, the audience gradually warms up to the band, and i find myself quite diggin' this eccentric live act.

But then the main act comes on. The seven piece group fill the stage. The screen lights up. The light show commences. They start off by addressing the audience: "Please stand up." Everyone does. Win's voice fills the square. I'm willing to wager this is closer to religious fervor than what is experienced inside the white walls of the building we've got our backs turned to. 

These guys have three drum sets, they do laps around the stage, play a xylophone with the fierceness of the Phantom of the Opera playing the organ, switch instruments among themselves and say stuff like "Pickled herring. Hate it. But in your country i like it." They also play with an energy the likes of which i haven't seen in a while at a concert this size, while still managing to maintain the intimate feeling of a smaller gig. Their musical talent extends to a broad scope in terms of genre, instruments, lyrics and stage presence. I'm overwhelmed and more than pleasantly surprised to have all my expectations exceeded by the show they put on.

The only thing that caused me grief was that i didn't push into the front row with a couple of my lucky friends. Which really was unfortunate, because when Win jumped into the crowd after the gig, they got to touch him. I had to content myself with touching my friends. Arcade Fire, this nation of architects loves you. 

Him and Her.

He said 

"Baby my mind spins and my head reels. I remember you in red heels."

She said

"It's Sunday morning, more like afternoon. My boyfriend will be home soon."

He said

"I'll fight for a woman who thus me enchants."

She said

"Damn, boy, pass me the sugar and put on some pants."

Cruising on a Friday.

Helsinki Cruising Club takes over Nosturi on the first Friday of each summer month, featuring goodies for fans of the fifties, rockabilly fiends, vintage car enthusiasts and the entire scope of hair gel aficionados alike. Organized in cooperation with Fullsteam Agency and Hellbilly Crew, this a niche club night the likes of which have recently been paralleled only by Club Wanted at Lepakkomies. And the demand is there, tapping its Creeper-covered foot impatiently. 

The first thing we notice is the row of pastel-colored vintage vehicles parked in front of Nosturi. It's not even nine yet, but the terrace of Alakerta is filling up quick, with girls in swooping dresses, hair tied back with ribbons, and guys clad in Hawaii prints and turned-up trouser cuffs. 

It's not quite Hawaii, nor is it the fifties. But the sun is still in the sky and the air is warm. Rob Coffinshaker from Swedish rockabilly band, the Coffinshakers, can be heard crooning from inside. He sounds like he's channeling a forlorn Johnny Cash. The dude at the next table with the pompadour nods his head in tune. I sip on my icy cider, and Esa and i comment on how sometimes, the city is perfect. 

The good mood persists when we check out Mike Bell and the Belltones upstairs. I'm a huge fan of the stand up bass, and the slapping this old bass is getting makes me wanna join the throng of dancers from decades back in the front row. I'm almost as impressed by the guitarist's choice of clothing. That Hawaii print shirt and baby-blue trousers make for some serious eye candy.

This is straight up, honest and simple rockabilly - the kind you need to see live for it to really stand out in a genre which suffers from a continuous surplus of legend-imitators and uninventive lyricists. The band's stage presence and  Mike's disarmingly geriatric-sounding singing are part of and experience that just doesn't communicate in the same way via CD. 

Be that as it may, based on the gig, i think i'll have to get the album anyway. To listen to on days when the sun isn't shining, the cider isn't cold and the city isn't perfect. Rockabilly will  make it better.