Results tagged “nightout”

You may have heard The Saint Alvia Cartel’s "Don’t Wanna Wait Forever" on 102.1 The Edge this summer. Like, two blagillion times. If you happen to like the song, you should probably go check the band out this Thursday, October 4, at the Reverb, as part of the Union Label Group’s annual Union Tour. If you don’t like the song, you should probably still give the band a shot; “Don’t Wanna” is easily the weakest track on their fantastic self-titled debut, which mixes reggae, punk, pop, and rock ‘n’ roll the way The Clash did so perfectly on London Calling. Saint Alvia may not be the only band that matters yet, but they’re still one helluva solid act, a fact that anyone who’s taken enough time to absorb their record in its entirety can attest to. Composed of current and former members of 905 punk rock royalty (Grade! Jersey! Boys Night Out! Video Dead!), the band may hail from just outside Toronto city limits, but they possess an urban grittiness in their sound that simultaneously recalls the Hammersmith Palais and the end of East Bay.

Merry Christmas and Joyous Jews' Night Out, y'all! Best wishes from Povertyville for a peaceful and relaxing holiday!

God, we're so sick of that we want to kill anyone and everyone that makes a "something on a something" joke. But then we realized that there was no way we could ever win this fight, and, hell, if you can't beat them, we might as well join them. And with that, you have the theme of this weeks' Gothamist network post.

Looking to check out some live music this week? Here's your listing of what's happening around the city between August 7-13.

Persuant to Friday's discussions of the merits of Eckler and McLaren, and who would win in a blindfolded mud wrestle, TOist would like to enter yesterday's NYTimes style piece by Rebecca Eckler as exhibit A in the case for Eckler. Yes, Leah has both a farm and a perky nose, but Eckler has two men, a little lady, and the skills necessary to expose her shambling affairs to anyone who has the patience to stomach the travesty that is the Sunday Styles Modern Love column. Here at TOist we nearly lost our brunch when we got to the Modern Love page, but the fault lies squarely on our shoulders for having bothered to read past the cheerful enlightenment of 'A Night Out With Keren Ann.'