Feral Houses

This new series of photos by James Griffioen of Detroit's slow decay kind of reminds me of the monologue in Fight Club...

"In the world I see - you are stalking elk through the damp canyon forests around the ruins of Rockefeller Center. You'll wear leather clothes that will last you the rest of your life. You'll climb the wrist-thick kudzu vines that wrap the Sears Tower. And when you look down, you'll see tiny figures pounding corn, laying strips of venison on the empty car pool lane of some abandoned superhighway. Fight Club

As Detroit's suburbs no longer become necessary for a shrinking former industrial power, nature seems to be reclaiming itself. I know there is a sad human story about Detroit's downfall, but Griffioen has found some beauty within collapse.


James D. Griffioen 'Feral Houses'

DR

Urban Find

Found: Brooks Brothers Seersucker Suit

$20 at Stray Vintage on Skillman Ave in Sunnyside Queens. A perfectly fitting Brooks Brothers Suit. Payed in cash. Now I'm searching for the appropriate lawn party, cricket match, or sailing regalia to sport this sharp find.

Needed: Blue handkerchief, canvas belt, brown oxford shoes.

Stray Vintage
4809 Skillman Avenue
Sunnyside, New York
718-779-7795

DR

Barber Shop

I've said it before and will say it again. Freeman's Sporting Club is the place for any Urban Naturalist to get a haircut and a shave. I had a wonderful experience there last Friday in preparation for a weekend wedding outside of Woodstock, NY. Any Urban Naturalist worth a darn leaves the city with a nice shave and cut and returns with a little new undergrowth.

Freeman's Sporting Club
8 Rivington Street
(between Bowery & Chrystie) East Store Front
New York, NY 10002
212-673-3209

F.S.C. Barber West Village
5 Horatio Street
(Near Horatio and 8th Avenue)
New York, NY 10014
212-929-3917

DR

Victrola: Kurt Vile

Music, for me, comes in genre swings, and all I had been digging recently were loud, over-the-top guitar bands. My nostalgia for late nineties hardcore records was starting to run deep, when Kurt Vile came along and snapped me out of an early summer post-punk bender. And when I say 'snapped me' I mean it in the car crash, blindsided, blowing me out of the water kind of way.

Take 'Freeway' (below). It's poppy and fun and the kind of summer song you're just begging for this time of year. It's also just weird enough musically and surreal enough lyrically to hold your attention much further that it's three minute running time. It's a little Tom Petty, or Chris Bell, but also some Cody Chesnutt. In other words, it's a stoner-friendly butt-shaker.

And believe me, the Vile legend is growing. I can't remember an artist that has been this easy to identify as a very near future underground favorite. I've already been turned away from small venue shows in Brooklyn and sadly look forward to seeing that he's sold out larger venues in the city. That is, as soon as he starts playing them.

Like me, though, enjoy a perfect summer song and record for the short time that remains before every coffee shop and bar starts playing nothing but this stuff. It will happen soon. But for now, Kurt Vile can be our little secret.




DR

Low Moon by Jason

In Low Moon, a new graphic novel from Jason, an alternative wild west exists where saloons sling cappuccino and disputes are resolved over chess tables. In fact, the press release describes it as the first and possibly last 'chess western.' A little boring sounding? Not tough enough for the average western voyeur? Well all of the collected stories deal with lust, desire, and often murder. Happy now?




DR

Man's Best Friend

My dog is currently laid out as a cool July breeze blows in our first floor windows. I'm finding that animal companionship is a necessity in our big city, and I discovered one in a shelter named Sergio. I'm not suggesting you romanticize it. Believe me, it's about as life changing and as close to having a child as this Urban Naturalist has ever had. Tread with caution, but I can honestly say the pay off is worth it.

KJ

Sunday Afternoon Imbiber

When the old brain wants to take a lazy summer day off, don't think about your imbibing. The King. Budweiser.

BA

Soviet Hemingway

Is it an unpatriotic act if I don't find anything wrong with Ernest Hemingway being a bad KGB spy. He did live and love Cuba, and buddied-up with Castro and the gang. I mean... look at the man.

More here.

KJ

Keen's

When you're planning a Bachelor Party and strip joints, Vegas, and Tijuana just aren't doing it, New York is full of some great options. Keen's might be at the top.

“You really can’t do it any better or more authentic than Keens, a place that goes right back to the old-school all-male world of beefsteak parties, political power built around beef, and bloody aprons and smoke-filled rooms.”

That's what Anthony Bourdain had to say about it on a great episode of No Reservations called 'Disappearing New York.' Now, just a disclaimer, The Urban Naturalist isn't making the final decision on this bachelor party, but it's what we suggest for any red-blooded man and his whiskey drinking, meat hungry buddies.




Keen's Steakhouse
72 W. 36th St., New York, NY 10018

KJ

The Zen of Tennis

Prince Valiant haircut plus surly attitude equals tennis zen. Jimmy Connors was the American great in the late 70s, until a certain poet zen master took his place. What McEnroe did for voice, and what Borg did for beard, Connors did for muscle. Known for his on-the-court persistence, Connors was just one tough son-of-a-bitch. Need proof? Here.

PA