PBR is our regular sports column, wherein our man in the Jersey ‘Burbs calls Philly sports and sports-media as he sees ’em. His name is Patrick Berkery and he plays drums for the Pernice Brothers and, get this, he actually gives a shit about sports. Weird, huh? Born & raised on a steady diet of Birds, Phils, Flyers and boiled potatoes. Phillies season ticket holder since 1978. Longs for the days of Jim Barniak & Spectrum Wrestling on Prism. Thinks all sportwriters dress funny and should stay off TV. Except Phil Sheridan. His feelings on the Philadelphia Eagles are not […]
Who Loves Show Tunes? Fat Kids, Skinny Kids, Even Kids With Chicken Pox…
Ladies and Gentlemen, we are proud to present, The Asylum Street Spankers! And God Bless America and all who sail with her!
Now It Can Be Told: Don’t Look Back In Anger
Backstage Thursday night at Philebrity’s Second Anniversary Party at Johnny Brendas.
The Banality of Evil: Two Pickets To Tittsburg, Please
Why do you people give a shit about celebrities? Maybe it’s because we’ve met a few, but we could NOT care less. Unless it has to do with Lindsay Lohan. But that’s different. Anyway, the blog consultant we hired was very clear: if we have any prayer of ever getting women and gay men to read this thing, we better have some celeb shit. Christ, the things we do for you people. Okay, I don’t know if everybody else has already weighed in on this but it’s all we got today. Besides, who covers Pittsburgh? Well, we do. Have you […]
215 Fest Leftovers: Phawker Tawks With Get Your War On Creator David Rees
Makin’ Bacon With The War Pigs Somebody important once said that irony is the only rational response to an irrational world. Maybe we did. Who can tell in this crazy, mixed-up Internet world where nothing is true and everything is permitted. As you may recall, in the days after of 9/11 Vanity Fair poobah Graydon Carter famously declared the sudden “death of irony,” as if they kept it in the World Trade Center or something. Well, assuming for a moment that was even remotely true or possible, David Rees CPR’d that fucker back to life and gave it a job: […]
Ordinarily We Say Halloween Is Amateur Night (Paging Amorosi! Paging Count Amorosi!)
But these people strike us as pros. Invite Phawker to your Halloween jawn at feed@phawker.com. Unless it’s gonna suck. Then nevermind.
215 Fest Leftovers: Phawker Tawks With Amy Sedaris
Pretty girls aren’t funny for the same reason that pretty boys aren’t funny: they don’t have to be. Form fits function, and function answers to need. Pretty people rarely need for much, least of all the ability to win friends and disarm foes with a few well-placed yuks. It’s basic Darwin. Lucille Ball? Phyllis Diller? Roseanne Barr? Funny fuckin’ ladies. Pretty? Not so much. Amy Sedaris knows this. Her career puts the lie to that premise, by the way, but to do so she has to put on a fat suit and give herself an overbite, problem hair and a […]
Deep Thoughts: About New Beck, Old Wars, John Prine And How To Give A Dirty Santorum
As a boy I wanted to be Sherlock Holmes when I grew up, but now I’m thinking I wanna be Nigel Godrich. Seriously, the “it” boy producer’s life is most people’s idea of a rock ’n’ roll fantasy camp. Just take a look at his day planner for the last couple of years. Monday: Give Paul McCartney edge. Tuesday: Dial back Thom Yorke’s edge. Wednesday: Make Beck a man. Ironically, it’s the latter who suffers the greatest cred deficit these days. Some say Beck jumped the shark back at Midnite Vultures. Others lost faith when they found out he was a […]
At The Twilight’s Last Gleaming
The Lonesome Crowded Death Of Grandaddy And All Who Sailed With It The posthumous album by Grandaddy opens with the forlorn voice of a child simultaneously invoking the album’s title and asking the question innocents invariably ask in the wake of a divorce, fire, flood, hurricane, towering inferno, earthquake or Poseidon adventure: What Ever Happened To The Family Cat? Trust me kid, you don’t want to know. As you have no doubt heard by now, this will be the final Grandaddy album and, really, that should come as no surprise. Most bands have a shelf life of ten years tops — five […]
This Is Where Ilebrity Begins…With A Mix Tape
RHYMES FOR THE DEAF, DUMB AND BLIND CRACKERJACK HIP-HOP JAWN Okay, kids – here’s the deal … I take my hip hop very seriously. Like Chuck D., I, too, believe that it can serve as “CNN for Black people.” But that’s not all that’s at stake these days. Hip hop is the new jazz – a truly American-born music phenomenon/style/genre that has yet to be rivaled by contemporaries in the form of social consciousness, intelligent wordplay and overall swagger. This disc represents what I regard to be the cream of the hip-hop crop as of late (with a […]
London Falling
(Illustration by Alex Fine) Pete Doherty’s Cracked Music It starts with a bang and ends with a whimper. Structure becomes shrapnel, air becomes fire, people become obituaries. Everyone — even the most candyass of heart, those who dare not think in curse words let alone utter them — reacts the same way: You motherfuckers. When the London Underground came under attack earlier this month by Islamic killbots purchasing four tickets to Allah’s bootycall with a backpack of C-4, I know the first thing you thought and the last thing you’d ever admit: God save the Libertines. There are many here […]
Let It R.I.P.
(Illustration by Alex Fine) GROKSTER TAKES A DIRT NAP Remember Napster? Shawn Fanning’s killer application was like a diamond bullet shot into the blackened heart of the music business, leaving it reeling, and bleeding free music for years. The first reaction of the music biz moguls-men who invariably rely on their tender-aged assistants to send and receive email-was to ignore Napster. Upon realizing somewhat belatedly you could get the Internet on computer nowadays, their second reaction was to kill it-smother it in lawsuits until it asphyxiated in amicus briefs. After kicking Napster to the curb, they sent their goon squad […]