Welcome (back) to the Earshot Bulletin, where we love stuff. For those who didn’t catch it last week, this is a column where it’ll be my pleasure to highlight the members of our Earshot Community and what they’ve felt a particular love for lately - but first, let’s get some good old-fashioned hating out of the way…
This week, Overmono were in town. As is civil/legal custom for any Brooklyn resident, I am required to love their music - their Welsh origins, however, represent an opportunity to assert my ever-dwindling Britishness over their more “American” fans. Donning my highest-neck tracksuit jacket and some straight leg jeans (foregoing the bucket hat), I trudged off to Public Records, deluded that this getup would distinguish me as a credible Englishman. To no one’s surprise, I looked utterly identical to forty or fifty of the men in line outside - despair.
Personal fashion identity issues aside, the subject of my ire is actually an alternate form of cultural appropriation: the manner in which men dance at electronic or techno shows. Straight dudes in the US used to groove and sway. The very sight of corn-fed, regular white-boys move, arms aloft with gay abandon was one of the things that first enamored me with this great country. It represented a new world optimism - a belief in self-expression as a virtue, unburdened by judgement or affect. How times have changed.
As the popularity of “sessioning” with a Boiler Room set on the TV has risen, so have automaton dance moves, mimicked from awkward DJs and inhibited Englishmen on holiday. The pogo, the static head bob, the repetitive arm crank are robbing us of American sensuality - the pioneer spirit fades with every waking day. If we are to prevent the crumbling of this once-great empire, it’s important that we learn the lessons from the old country - not take their shitty dance moves.
Yush is an excellent communicator. He hasn’t missed a text since 2013, is diligent about talking to his parents and is radically transparent about both his emotional state and physical location at all times. Recently - as every one of his groupchats has remained informed - it seems he’s spent his time commuting between San Francisco and the Jaws of Hell - he’s been having quite a week guys!
Where’s Waldo?
In addition to his updates, over the years I’ve become accustomed to another Aayush signature - an equal-parts chic, equal-parts candid photo dump to punctuate a trip away. As if designed in a lab, these contain beautiful ratios of everything you might expect: a couple of flattering candids, an array of good-looking friends, a smattering of industrial design and maybe something to show you he can be a little goofy ;)
While the construction of the dumps has always been of consistent excellence, the quality of the images themselves have taken a considerable leap forward in recent months, thanks in part to Aayush’s item of the week - his Ricoh GRIII digital camera. Compact, no-frills and no-zoom, the Ricoh’s first-rate hardware has certainly elevated the baseline fidelity of Aayush’s photos and allowed him ample practice with its convenient size and toughness. It shows!
When he talked to me about it, what struck me most was this notion that the camera has imbued him with fresh perspective - it has empowered him with the ability to appreciate the composition of his world in its distinct moments, combatting the blurring effect of everyday life.
I think that anything that allows us to remain present and break up the tide of experience into digestible pieces is a virtuous tool indeed. Perhaps I need something of the like, as I sit here distracted, staring out of windows, wishing my life away. I await Aayush’s FW24 carousel with bated breath.
Carrying on from the Wizards of Music section last week…
I’ve not yet had the pleasure of spending time at Mark’s house, but it’s not difficult to imagine the music of Andreas Vollenweider emanating around the halls of Chez Torpey. For those not familiar, Vollenweider is a Swiss harpist who rose to prominence in the late 80s with his swirling, fairy-tale electro-harp. His music is gorgeously cyclical, channeling nature and a casual but ancient wisdom - the bloke also loves a jazz chord or two!
Mark talks of Andreas’ music as an “heirloom” passed down from the college days of his father, himself having acquired it from a particularly eclectic roommate. I’m sure we all have an equivalent - an act that exists outside the natural bounds of our own taste or musical vernacular, yet occupies a fixed position atop our Mount Rushmore of artists.1 His go-to album is the delightfully named Behind the Gardens - Behind the Wall - Under the Tree…” - Mark likes to fold clothes to it. True to its folk-story moniker, this record playfully meanders around an enrapturing landscape of fantasy - the drama of Micro Macro and the triumphant Hands and Clouds are standout tracks.
As resident Earshot polymath, Mark’s creative output over the years has been prolific and wide-ranging. Whether it be within his paintings or his criminally underrated musical projects (we love you, Baggy Boyz), Mark is no stranger to world-building. I would hazard a guess that he sees Vollenweider as a kindred spirit, forging universes through their art.
Mark’s recommendation has confirmed something of a pet theory of mine - that every decade or so, when humanity needs it most, we are sent a fantastical harpist who, against the odds, achieves commercial success. Dorothy Ashby, Joanna Newsom, Harpo Marx, Andreas Vollenweider - none were destined for fame and fortune, yet have wielded their tremendous mastery over their angelic instrument to propel themselves into our hearts - folding clothes wouldn’t be the same without them.
For a man of few words, Hassan speaks incredibly effusively about nature. If you ever need a recommendation for a park or a hiking route outside the city, he’s your man - he’s been to more arboretums than you could shake a stick at and put together a nifty outerwear wardrobe while doing so. He’s even a master of hydroponics - ask the crew. Last week, Aodan, Mark and I were lucky enough to be the recipient of a bounty of herbs from Hassan’s at-home setup - I will be thinking about that batch of cilantro all through the winter. The immense gratitude he practices for nature’s gifts is not only palpable, but inspiring - talking to him makes me want to spend more time outside.
A logical extension of this deep respect for the woods is his passion for foraging. He speaks about the topic with such joy and triumph that he conjures the opening scene in Bambi - suddenly I imagine myself as one of Thumper’s siblings - a wide-eyed bunny against an illustrated backdrop, gleefully scurrying across the forest floor…
I’m him.
Instead of paraphrasing, here’s the man himself:
“Over the past three years I’ve become enamored with the practice of foraging! I’ve found it to be the perfect intersection of communing with nature, deep engagement with one’s senses, and unique culinary exploration. The concept itself still astounds me - to walk outside and enjoy the absolute freshest, most in-season, most sustainable, rarest - and for those reasons - often the most delicious and healthy foods one can realistically consume. All for free? All the while spending time in serene parks and the flourishing wilderness? Sounds like a dream.
I’ve enjoyed nature’s gifts of medicinal herbs, plump berries, leafy greens, and recently expanded into the odd mushroom as I’ve gained more knowledge. The countless hours spent in quiet fascination and peaceful thought are just as fulfilling, if not more so, as the food itself. Foraging to me is deeply rewarding, empowering, and connective. If you appreciate any of the following at all - good food, beauty, peace of mind, or fresh air - then foraging might be right for you, too.”
The first of our esteemed guests at the Earshot Newsletter is one Teddy Popick: Producer Extraordinaire, died-in-the-wool Newcastle supporter and a man with unlimited movie opinions and food tier-lists ready to be unleashed onto the world. He’s very dear to my heart and his creative talents, diligence and infectious optimism bring life to all those who know him - remember the name and watch out for some projects in 2025…
For now though, he’s gonna school you on where to eat breakfast in New York - take notes - he’s serious.
Mike's Coffee Shop - DeKalb Ave and St James Place
Three Pancakes (One Blueberry, One Banana, One Chocolate Chip) and a side of Bacon
The father, the son, and the holy spirit of pancakes. It's not often a restaurant will bend its knee and let you order one of each, but Mike's is a special place. At Mike's, they prioritize fun. So when I went rogue and tested my luck, the good man taking our order simply smiled, said he'll check with the kitchen, asking, 'No Meat'? What a Gentleman. He never came back with a word from the kitchen, just a plate full of flapjacks and that gleaming smile of his - boy, did it put one on my face too. For good measure, get a coffee, an orange juice, and a water too. The holy trinity of breakfast drinks.
Amen.
Sunny and Annie's - 7th St and Ave B
Sausage, Egg, and Cheese on a Toasted Plain Bagel, with Butter and Hoisin
There’s nothing like a grinding hangover to spawn your greatest breakfast order. I feel indebted to a higher power for this one - like this was the Lord's plan for me all along, and all of my morning afters had led me to this umami bomb of redemption. This sandwich was predestined to be mine. I can’t take any credit for it, but I’ll humbly give it to you. Walk into that fabled bodega in the East Village, ask for Hoisin on your SEC, and tell them Teddy sent you (they'll have no idea who the fuck you're talking about).
Sailor - DeKalb Ave and Clermont Ave
Everything Bagel with Smoked Salmon
I haven't been so lucky as to get a reservation for Sailor's dinner service, but a 10am walk-in for a Saturday brunch is more my speed anyway. People are going to want to tell you about the French Toast. That's fine, let ‘em. It's very good. There's something stronger than crack in that slice of brioche. But… be gluttonous - why stop there? Get the lox bagel too. I don't feel the need to go into too much detail here, but the Everything Bagel is good and they're generous with the salmon. I'm not picky, that about sells me.
Thanks for reading the earshot bulletin, coming to you every Friday. We are a project-based studio located at 255 Canal St, NYC - keep in touch!
Mine, if interested, is the glorious Baron Von Tollbooth - a 70s supergroup made up of Paul Kanter and Grace Slick (Jefferson Airplane) and Jerry Garcia (Grateful Dead).
