A fun-filled tribute to The Smashing Pumpkins‘ ’1979′ with comical undertones, everyone’s identities are hidden beneath brown paper bags with cut-out surprised expressions – which doesn’t seem to stop anyone from drinking, smoking and partying the night away in rooms draped with toilet roll.[#]
Peter Doherty's collaboration with The Kooples is finally to see the light of the day. We reported last May that the troubled British musician - whose brushes with the law and previous relationship with Kate Moss have been well documented - would be turning his hand to a range for the autumn/winter 2011 season, but this had been postponed to spring/summer 2012 after he was sent to prison for six months last year for cocaine possession and use.
The range, which caters to both men and women, is inspired by the dandyism of British sub-cultures, in particular the 'Suedeheads' and 'Mods' of the '60s, and Doherty's own vintage wardrobe. Highlights for men include a beige panama and brown felt hat designed in collaboration with historic London hat maker James Lock & Co. T-shirts featuring the 32-year-old's artwork also form part of the mix.
For women, a leather dress inspired by British singer Jane Birkin, shorts with braces and a Victorian-style blouse are all adorned with a medal logo - stamping Doherty's love of military and trinkets across the collection.And this being The Kooples after all, who better than model Irina Lazareanu, Doherty's on-again, off-again lover to model the women's line?Peter Doherty for The Kooples is due to hit stores on Wednesday, March 14. [#]
...things felt a little awkward the moment he [Brandon Cox] initially stepped onstage, his face utterly concealed by a menacing, black, ski mask. But, as he purposefully prepared an intricate guitar-looping framework and launched into "Parallax," all was temporarily forgotten.
The first part of his performance was completely spellbinding. [...]
But then, per request of an obnoxious audience member to hear "My Sharona," things got strange. The transition was stark and instant, as if Cox suddenly felt mocked or distrusting of the audience he had gradually opened dialogue with throughout the course of the night. He obliged to play the song, which at first was generally entertaining. He employed his looping skills again, picking up different instruments along the way and inviting the openers to join him onstage. But it morphed into something bizarre, a unending cover that rivaled the length of a Phish concert and let's get real: "My Sharona" isn't exactly a "jam track."
It was interesting to observe the reactions of the openers. Initially the vibes were positive. The musicians, all fairly young, were clearly honored to be sharing a moment of spontaneity with someone they idolized. 35 minutes later that enthusiasm began to fade. They were visibly uncomfortable and beginning to question the sanity of their esteemed proctor, unwillingly locked in some twisted, Doomsday clock performance of a '70s hit. Yet, "My Sharona" endured still, as did Cox's increasingly awkward interactions with the audience. He asked people to take their clothes off. He shouted seemingly intoxicated defenses about his art. He simulated fallatio. He, to the horror of the Cedar employees, told everyone to pick up their chairs and shake them above their heads. While this behavior in another context could have been viewed as "rock'n'roll" it was unsettling and some people began filtering out of the venue. Eventually, after inviting the audience onstage (which visibly gave the Cedar staff an anxiety attack) he seemed to get the picture that the show was over and bid his adieu, dedicating the show to "the death of folk music and the birth of punk." [#]
