GIRLS are a San Franciscan four-piece that make wishy-washy poppy rock music that has all sorts of journalists and A&Rs really excited. They, like all new bands who crave attention and pussy, spent a few weeks in London recently. We caught up with them in Soho the other night before one of their shows to film an interview. We took them to a sex shop because ageing guys like all that stuff and because we’re cheap.
My buddy Bill Philip, who I spent many happy years dossing at art school with, has a website called Fotos I’d Like to Fuck, it’s almost impossible to navigate but once you get the hang of it you’ll be rewarded with his somewhat bleak and impenetrable world view, brought to you via the mediums of photo, collage and video. Read more »
Usama Alshaibi’s known for stirring up serious political shit with a pervo swizzle stick; his last completed feature, Nice Bombs, in which he revisits his motherland Iraq and ends up just like the rest of the U.S.—having no conclusion, no idea really what to make of the enormous mess—pissed off a lot of people. When we stumbled on this strange, magical video that feels like some kind of haunted video feedback loop, which he made with his wife Kristie (click below to watch it), we thought we’d found something that was just pretty great to look at, a miniature respite from his workaday leanings. But when we asked him to talk about it, that was a jack-in-the-box of worms that led to a discussion about his recent film, Profane. Seems he just can’t get away from the deep, dark stuff. Not that we want him to. Here, he’ll explain it all in his own words, but don’t click any further unless you’re a grown-up.
Ever notice how women with plastic surgery look incredibly embarrassed, like you just called them out on a big lie? Well, unless you have the worst eyesight in the world, you just did.
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Whenever you travel to a new place for the first time there’s always that fear that everybody in the scene will be a bunch of toffs and you won’t meet anybody operating on your level. Then you bump into some slit-eyed goon burbling something about stolen chips and you know everything’s going to be all right. More