http://www.nytimes.com/2005/11/07/business/07move.html
The number of people leaving Boston, New York and Washington is also rising, and skyrocketing house prices appear to be a major reason, said Mark Zandi, chief economist at Economy.com. From New York, the net migration to Philadelphia more than doubled between 2001 and 2004, with 11,500 more people leaving New York for Philadelphia last year than vice versa.

Can you believe it? A net migration of 11,500 people from New York to Philly? It may be economically driven, but it’s clear that the times, they are, uh, becoming quite different.

First of all, our seats rocked. Section 115, row 10, we were about thirty feet from the left edge of the stage. Two walkways jutted out from the main stage on our side so that a strutting Mick Jagger or shambling Keith Richards could literally come within feet of the audience, and they did. It was pretty cool, but enough about the seats, on to the Stones.

The Stones are thinner and older than you would think possible. My theory is that heroin, in addition to being the greatest pain killer known to man, is also a preservative. Either that or the Rolling Stones have crossed over into undeath and are now mummies without wrappings. Seriously, I know it’s a tired joke that’s it’s a scientific mystery how Keith Richards is still walking and talking, but I’ve got to say, after seeing him in person, I wonder myself. Screw Atkins, I’m going on the Keith Richards diet: cigarette smoke, a secret mixture of heroin and cocaine, and unintentionally inhaled glitter from my many frilly scarves and headbands.

The good news is that, despite their corpse-likeness, the Stones put on a rock show as good as any you are going to see. Maybe Mick wasn’t quite as frenetic as he was twenty or thirty years ago, but he did not disappoint. He worked the entire stage and the entire audience, taking only a short break to let Richards sing a couple of songs. Richards’ and Ron Wood’s guitar playing was decent, if a little sloppy. Charlie Watts, the oldest looking Stone, did his job as well. But this show wasn’t really about individual performances.

Sometimes I forget how many truly great songs the Stones created. There are very few acts that can boast a litany of classics like the Stones, and even fewer who are actively touring. The first highlight of the show was You Can’t Always Get What You Want in which the crowd participated as much as any of the band. Soon after, they broke into an excellent cover of The Right Time by Ray Charles that had the entire stadium screaming. Finishing up the show, they played Sympathy for the Devil, Paint It Black, Honkey Tonk Women, Brown Sugar and, my personal favorite of the night, a ripping version of Jumping Jack Flash.

Most of the bands I’ve seen live in concert considered themselves successful if they broke even on their last tour. I’d never seen a bona fide rock anthem performed live by the original artist before experiencing the Stones perform hit after hit last night in South Philly. I was almost embarrassed at how much I sang along.

The songs and the performances were great, but what I’ll remember most about the show was how much positive energy the Stones were able to create, and how much each of them clearly loved doing it. Even while performing such dark classics as Sympathy for the Devil and Paint it Black, love was in the air. The fans loved the Stones, the Stones loved being on stage, and we all loved the music. Mick Jagger and company get to live that magic year in year out, lucky bastards. I consider myself lucky for having been given a free pass to experience it for just one night.

Heck, maybe the next time they tour, I’ll actually buy a ticket.

http://www.foryouto.com

The intense love/hate relationship that Philadelphia sports fans have for their teams is now finding full expression in T.O..

Stupid T.O..

Everyone knows that leaving a bicycle, locked up or not, out of doors in Philadelphia is tantamount to giving the thing away. I once locked up a ten speed outside my apartment on Lombard Street. Straight away, the front tire was gone. I noticed when I left for work the following morning. By the time I had gotten home, the forks and handle bars were taken as well. I left the bike outside and watched as it disappeared, day by day, until nothing was left but the frame and my kryptonite lock.

Tonight, on my three block walk home from the CVS at 10th and Reed, I counted four bikes and a scooter, all outside, and all whole. What is it with this neighborhood? The day I moved, I was so exhausted that I parked my car with all the windows down and left it that way overnight. The next day I discovered my error, but was relieved to find that nothing was touched. My car was perfectly fine. How could that be?

This area certainly doesn’t look any nicer or safer than any other part of the city. We gots trash, loads of it, and no more cops than I see anywhere else. So what is it?

I think it’s the old Italian guys that sit outside. It’s gotta be. These guys, they sit outside all day and anyone who’s been to South Philly knows that when I say all day I mean all day. It’s more than a full time job. I always thought it was a bit funny, but now I’m seeing that it’s actually a valuable thing. I’ve lived a block of the square and in Society Hill, but I have to say that this area around the Capitolo Playground in South Philly is safer than both those places and cheaper, too.

All I’m saying is that when you come down here for a cheese steak, you don’t have to worry. If I a kid’s scooter can survive here overnight, you be just fine.

Ai Chihuahua! South Street sure has changed. When I was a teenager, South Street was the destination of choice for me and my fellow suburbanite buddies. We all thought we were cool hanging out on what was then a disgusting and hopefully dangerous punk rock paradise. Bright green mohawks, black leather, tattoos, ripped fishnet clinging to pale punk rock chick legs… it was great. Stepping into Zipperhead, a one stop punk shop, was like stepping into a frightening and fascinating alternate universe. There was JC Dobbs, one of the great underground music venues of Philly, host to countless unknown punk and hardcore bands, and the bigger but no less cool Theatre of the Living Arts whose audiences knew how to mosh without beating the hell out of each other. There were great record stores and pizza and steak shops and everything was mom and pop — no chains.

Times, they have a-changed.

Was it Tower Records that first broke the mold? I can’t remember, but over the years South Street has changed dramatically from it’s grimy punk roots. Admittedly, the changes haven’t been all bad. Tower Records is, in fact, a cool music and video store. Over the past decade, there has been an explosion of restaurants in the Bella Vista and Queen Village areas such that, these days, anyone a bit peckish can easily find something tasty to nosh. And, ok, South Street is safer, I guess. But, it’s also slowly losing it’s identity.

The beginning of the end was definitely the Taco Bell. If I recall, there was an uproar amongst the locals that spread even to the Philadelphia Weekly and the City Paper when it was announced that a Taco Bell was to be installed at the West end of Philadelphia’s coolest drag. Surely, there must be some mistake. Don’t hold me to this, but I do seem to remember that there was even a group or two who tried to stop the opening. Anyway, the Taco Bell opened and Philly’s hippest hole in the wall lost that much of it’s mystique. Since then, it’s been a long slow walk down a road away from character towards, what, I don’t even know… corporatization? Homogeneity?

These days, South Street has expensive clothing stores, an upscale looking jewelry boutique, and, yes, two Starbucks. There’s even a Vespa dealership up near 11th. Though a ghost of it’s former self, Zipperhead fights on. Still, there are cool record shops. JC Dobbs is no more, but, thankfully, the TLA remains. I guess time marches on and takes me and South Street with it.

So, I’m in line, a long line as it was a warm and sunny Spring day and I had waited till noon, the beginning of food truck rush hour, when I hear a deep rumble from behind me. I turn to view the traffic on Spruce Street and I see this huge pimped out Hummer H2. Maybe there’s no such thing as a Hummer that’s not huge and pimped out, but this one looks like it has even more blinding chrome than some that I’ve seen. With the glare off the wind shield and the tinted windows, I can’t see who’s driving this factory fresh maroon beast, but whoever is behind the wheel deftly maneuvers the oversized conveyance out of traffic and nestles it snugly behind Lee Ahn’s food truck. Impressive.

Fascinated, I all but forget about my food and stare openly at this unfolding scene. Big engine still rumbling, the driver’s door opens and out comes the driver himself, a very slight elderly Chinese man wearing a silk shirt, impeccable slacks, and a pair of shoes into which some Italian designer had poured his heart and soul. All business, this gentleman, who I will call the Food Truck Don, casually surveys Lee Ahn’s food truck. After a few brief moments of contemplation, he reaches into the back of his Hummer and pulls out a stained cardboard box full of those chips you get at the start of a Chinese meal. Efficient but not hurried, he walks the box to the cart, refills their supply, and returns the now half empty box back to his Hummer. With a final summary glance at the food truck, he climbs back into the driver’s seat, closes the door, and pulls out into traffic back towards Center City, leaving me to stare after him in slack jawed wonderment.

You tell me, ok? Sometimes we Philadelphians wonder if there’s any money to be made in food trucks. I believe the Food Truck Don has answered that question, but opened so many more.

ok, so i know the 4th has long past, but this post isn’t really about the 4th, even though it starts there. last monday i rode my bike up to the parkway to watch the fireworks over the art museum. the streets were packed with people, many of whom were there to see sir elton, others to see the fireworks, and some to see both. for me, it was all about the fireworks. 10:30 pm came and went, sir elton played on, my shirt got sweatier and my frustration grew. finally, around 11:00, elton played his last and the fireworks began.

they were impressive, the fireworks, and would have been enough on their own. presumably to improve the exprience, the city decided to play music as well. standard stuff, living in america, born in the usa, that kind of thing. the crowd barely reacted to the music. where i was standing, the brothers and sisters were dancing to the beat of some music coming from a dj spinning at a hotel a few feet away, while i and the other white folks were just watching the works.

then came the theme from rocky.

the entire crowd cheered. ok, not the entire crowd, but a lot of it, and the reaction crossed racial barriers. when the theme from rocky is playing, we’re all philadelphians, united in our underdog status, cheering for the little guys whose noble spirit embiggens the smallest of them.

i thought that was kinda cool. i also thought it interesting that the theme from a movie, and the movie itself, could become so tightly coupled with a city the size of phildelphia. it says a lot about rocky, of course, which spawned four sequels and has endured because it’s such an archetypal story line, and the theme song, which is a very well constructed piece of music. it also speaks volumes about philly, which is without a doubt the underdog of american cities, as once this country was to the rest of the world.

then i got to thinkin’, do other cities have theme songs? new york immediately comes to mind, as there have been so many songs written about it, probably more than any other city. i think it’s fair to say that, if new york has a theme song, it’s “new york, new york” by sinatra. did he write that song? i don’t even know, but i doubt it.

anyway, that’s new york, but what about the rest of the country? i couldn’t come up with any others. l.a. – “welcome to the jungle” by guns & roses? orlando – disney’s “micky mouse”? isn’t there a song that goes, “meet me in san francisco?

yeah, i’m an idiot.

The following paragraph refers to Philly:
“The notion of the resurgence of the inner city was being overstated,” he says. “In Philadelphia, for example, Center City is better than it’s ever been. But the rest of the city is losing jobs and population.”

True enough.

Unless you listen to hip-hop… or have discovered 91.7 WKDU.

I’ve got nothing against hip-hop, but it’s not really my cup of tea. As such, the various hip-hop stations that dot our FM landscape here in Philadelphia are of no help to me. Well, that’s not entirely true. When Nelly’s “It’s Gettin’ Hot in Here” was making its rounds, I must admit that I was all about Power 99. Although it did reveal me for the poser that I am, blowing so readily with the popular winds, it was a brief fascination and when it was over I was left once again searching Phildelphia’s FM dial for someplace to call home.

We do have WHYY at 90.9 which is an excellent station. Terri Gross has got to be one of the finest interviewers in the English speaking world and, if you want intelligent talk radio, WHYY will more than meet your needs. I want to talk about music here, though.

What do we got for the rock and the roll? 93.3 WMMR, 94.1 WYSP, and the now defunct Y100.

Back in the day, after WYSP made the switch from classic rock, things were OK. WMMR played the older, less agressive stuff. WYSP was for the younger, more metal oriented crowd. And, we had Y100 for altern… I won’t use that term. Let’s call it “outsider rock.” Ahem. So, in addition to WYSP and WMMR, we had Y100 for outsider rock. Back then, things were basically good. No one of these stations was a national standout, but, if you flipped between the three, you could usually find a song that you liked.

The salad days didn’t last, though. Gradually, WMMR and WYSP began to converge. Lots of Gun’s ‘N Roses and Metallica for the boys, U2, Bon Jovi, and Aerosmith for the girls. Less and less of a difference between the two stations. Y100 stayed relatively pure, for a time. As time went on, though, Metallica made inroads into Y100, as well. Little did we all know that Y100 was teetering towards a fall, anyway.

Finally, Y100 died. Format change to hip-hop. WMMR and WYSP all but officially merged their playlists. These days, it’s all too common to tune into WMMR and WYSP and hear the same song being broadcast at the same time. And, you can forget about deep cuts. Top 40 rock dominates.

Ugh… it’s a sad situation and I don’t know what can be done, but, fortunatley, I have found a salvation of sorts in 91.7 WKDU. The broadcast area of WKDU is not nearly big enough and you’re basically lucky if you’re radio receives it. Nonetheless, in my opinion, WKDU is far and away the best radio station in Philadelphia. It’s completely non-commercial, diverse, and friendly to anyone who wants to call in. Just yesterday, I heard three Misfits songs off of Static Age: “Static Age”, “Hybrid Moments”, and “We Are 138″. Also, part of “Teenagers from Mars”, but I think that was a flub on the part of the DJ. Nevertheless, I was lovin’ life for a good ten, fifteen minutes.

WKDU plays everything, from rock to metal to electronica to reggae. If you’re stuck behind a computer all day, check out the free live webfeed at www.wkdu.org. That’s what I do.

Hopefully, everyone involved with Live 8 will be as lucky with the weather this Saturday. Personally, I’ll be nowhere near the event. Seeing Stevie Wonder would be way cool, but I can’t imagine what the crowds and the heat will be like. Not to mention that, besides Stevie, the rest of our line-up, um, sux. Sux bad. I’m disappointed. Philadelphia can throw a good party and I was really hoping for something more special out of Live 8.

I don’t want to get off on a rant about how Philadelphia is like the popular child actor that couldn’t make the transition to adult success — I’ll save that for later. Philadelphia is a great city and there’s a lot to talk about, both good and bad. I’m sure our city’s new bloggers will never be at a loss for subject matter.

Like Philadelphia radio, for instance. Who misses Y100? More from me on that, later.