Broadsheet #5

April’s WFMU Record Fair was a blast – thanks to all who provided feedback about this year’s broadsheet. For those of you who couldn’t make it, you can download it here. I print them on natural-colored cardstock if you have a thing for simulacra / exact reproduction.

It features thoughts on the music of today (vs the music of yesterday), why people like Guyville but Liz Phair not so much (and are wrong to do so), what to make of monstrous men, and (who else?) Lorde.

Caught in the Crossfire 5 (EPS)

Don’t forget to check out the playlist if you haven’t already!


The Playlist for Broadsheet #5

As you may know, I like to publish a physical broadsheet every year (on the occasion of the WFMU Record Fair).

This year’s will be posted here soon, but in the meantime here’s the playlist that goes along with it, on two different platforms:

  • Tidal
  • YouTube (note – some songs are alternate versions because Internet / money reasons)

If you can’t play that link for some reason, here are the songs!

  1. Lana Del Rey – “Groupie Love”
  2. Miranda Lambert – “Ugly Lights”
  3. Marika Hackman – “Boyfriend”
  4. Priests – “No Big Bang”
  5. Lorde – “Homemade Dynamite”
  6. Chelsea Wolfe – “The Culling”
  7. Mitski – “Your Best American Girl”
  8. Lorde – “Writer In the Dark”
  9. Ness Nite – “Xtra”
  10. Rostam – “Bike Dream”
  11. Lana Del Rey – “Heroin”

The NikeCraft Mars Yard Shoe from Tom Sachs – An OG vs 2.0 Comparison and Critique

Fig. 1 – OG (top) vs 2.0 (bottom)

Interest in Tom Sachs’ NikeCraft Mars Yard shoe has gone into high orbit these days (see what I did there?). As you probably know, a 2.0 version was launched at a Sachs’ conceived “Space Camp” on Governor’s Island in New York. A lot has to do with how the original version (released in 2012 to coincide with a Space Program exhibit at the Park Avenue Armory) has achieved near-mythical status.

I’m fortunate enough to own both – the differences are striking in many ways, so I thought I’d take time to talk about them. My interest is to understand and articulate how something so similar might yield such divergent impressions. And I’m a fan of thoughtful design, Tom Sachs and shoes, so I thought it’d be fun to share.

Before I get started, I want to emphasize – these shoes are not for sale. This is also lightly edited, so apologies for any oversights. Oh, and if you like this, I wrote more regularly for Heddels – here’s a piece I wrote on sneaker culture, for instance

The Packaging

You can’t judge a book by its cover – but sometimes, the cover is part of the book. And in this case, the packaging sets the tone.

Fig. 2 – The boxes

Backing up a bit – in a large way, this project purportedly came from a conversation between artist Tom Sachs and Nike CEO Mark Parker about the relative merits of handcrafted items vs those that are mass-produced. Sachs definitely has a horse in this race – the hand that produces his pieces is often visible in the final production, and shows a bias towards transparency for the way they were produced. For the OG shoe, this is carried through in its box, which is built to look like a stock Nike box (using a design from the early-to-mid 2000s – see below), turned inside out and patched together with duct tape. It has a fastening system fashioned from duct tape and velcro, with an X box stitch in contrast thread. It looks like something that was improvised by somebody (perhaps disinterested in standard corporate branding).

The interesting thing is, the box was specifically manufactured to look that way – the box doesn’t show the signs of stress that it would if it was actually folded inside out, and the printing on the bottom is on the outside, as expected. This imagined process is a Sachs move, through and through. As a final note, the cardboard is thicker, more similar to the weight of a Jordan Brand box.

By contrast, the 2.0 box is a standard box with custom printing. The duct tape pull-tab remains, but without fastening. There’s a nice bonus graphic on the bottom, as well as directional arrows on the inside.

Fig. 3 – Boxes (Bottom Look)

Looking inside, the tissue inside of the original features custom printed artwork…

Fig. 4 – Inside the OG Box

…whereas the 2.0 is standard.

Finally, I thought one of the nicest touches of the original is the line of swatches of each material utilized in the construction of the shoe (including the tongue tag). It also featured a hang tag (not pictured).

Fig. 6 – Swatches

Extras aside, I’d say these are two different approaches to repurposing a Nike box. And the tactile sensation of opening (and closing)the velcro fastening system of the original is pretty pleasing.


Both pairs come with a standard mesh sockliner (footbed) and an extra pair. The original featured leather footbeds. The 2.0 replaced these with cork footbeds. NikeCraft explained it thusly:

We provide an optional cork sock liner because many users rock the shoe sockless and research shows that cork has natural antimicrobial properties. Try it and see if you like it.

Fig. 7 – Footbeds

The Shoes

The unavoidable question is, how do the shoes themselves compare? I sort these differences into the major, the minor and the incidental. In rising order of significance:

The Incidental:

The eagle-eyed might spot differences in the way the leather looks. There’s both nubuck trim and leather lining. Part of Sachs’ aesthetic is to include untreated material, so each appear in their natural state. Unless a designer is being exacting about material, it’s normal practice to specify the general attributes / grades required and see what the procurement chain delivers. As an example from the world of groceries, Grade A large brown eggs aren’t all the exactly the same, but are similar enough to know generally what you’re going to get. I believe that the variances in leather are the result of that sourcing process.

The nubuck on my OG pair is texturally different and its leather lining has a slightly pink tinge. Ms. Crossfire says the OG nubuck is “better” (someone has to, right?). And it’s possible that other shoes from these runs differ from pair to pair in this department; it’s all a part of life’s rich pageant.

Fig. 8 – Leather Variations (OG on the left)

The Minor:

I’ve noticed three minor differences, two are functional and one not functional.

The two functional differences are both covered in the NikeCraft statement (see Fig. 13 – “Failure Is Always an Option,” below). The tongue donning straps weren’t reinforced properly by the factory that produced the original, so this was strengthened in the 2.0 (it’s not easy to see, but I verified this). Also, the protruding nipples on the outsole tread were inverted for better wet weather traction.

The non-functional difference is from a bit of an Easter egg that was incorporated into the original design – in the middle of the outsole, there are some glyphs debossed into the tread. I didn’t even notice this until I looked at the original SFB Chukka boot that this unit was borrowed from. I’m not hardcore enough to understand the significance of these marks (they don’t make any sense in Morse Code), other than the Swoosh that ended up in 2.0.

Fig. 9 – Outsole (OG on left)

The Major:

By far, the defining difference between the shoes is the material of their uppers. The original was fabricated from Vectran, which is a ripstop fabric used in the airbags (in the inflatable parachute sense) for the Mars Excursion Rover. Its attributes include excellence in tension (so it can’t be stretched apart), abrasion resistance and heat resistance. Like all products of the space-age (Tang, anyone?), it has a charmingly dated look to it. It also has a nice unstructured slouch to it, that accentuates the vintage aspects of its design.

Fig. 10 – OG upper in Vectran

According to NikeCraft, the testing of the material didn’t include creasing – which anyone who’s worn out a pair of sneakers knows is one of the first things to give on a pair of sneakers (a pair of Nike Maharam Oregon Waffles failed within a week of wear). To solve this problem, 2.0 utilizes a more thoroughly tested polyester warp-knit tricot mesh. It looks tremendously breathable, like something you’d see in, well, a sneaker.

Fig. 11 – The 2.0 Upper

This is the crux of the difference between the original and the 2.0. Vectran is the last material you’d normally make a shoe with, so it perfectly expresses the illusion of being hand-crafted from materials scavenged in a well-equipped space lab (consistent with the paracord used as shoelaces). Whereas the mesh material in the 2.0 is what you’d use if you actually produced the shoe in, well, a Nike factory. In fact, all the changes in the 2.0 are improvements to its utility.

That is terrific for me, because I’m going to wear my 2.0 pair once it stops raining (I don’t like to get my feet wet). It’s also important to note that it serves very different purpose – to illustrate how failure makes you stronger (which is also the theme of the Governors Island Space Camp). For me, though, the original shoe is immediately powerful in a way that its successor isn’t – much in the same way that the Apollo 11 mission holds a space in our collective memory much larger than, say, the Apollo 14. There is an aura to being first, a true OG.

Hopefully all of the above helps you understand why.

Appendix: Original Specs

Fig. 12 – OG specs, 2012


Fig. 13 – Failure Is Always an Option (via NikeCraft)

Caught in the Crossfire – Printed Issue #4

I’ve been thinking a lot about how we present ourselves as a reflection of our identity, and how the means of doing so have changed in my lifetime.  I wrote a piece for Heddels on how we do so through clothing.

Music has always been a huge part of my life and identity since my teenage years; I’ve spent an abundance of my adult life learning about and searching for underground music.  I’ve delved into how the ways in which we’ve disseminated knowledge of, and expressed appreciation for, underground music over the past thirty years in Crossfire #4.  In particular, relating to a social media group called “Now Playing.”

I also talk about a few records from Japan that seem to be flying under the radar at the moment, featuring The Itaru Oki Trio, Murahachibu, Stomu Yamash’ta (with Takehisa Kosugi), Rosa Luxemburg and a fellow who recorded under the name L.

I hope you enjoy!

Caught in the Crossfire – Printed Issue #3

Spring brings warm weather, dreams of summer and a new issue of the Caught in the Crossfire broadside.  Topics this year include Robert Curgenven’s epic 2014 LP, Kim Gordon’s memoir and mall record stores circa 2015.  As always, it was published for the WFMU Record Fair with the generous support of Forced Exposure Basketball.

Thanks as always for reading.

Caught in the Crossfire #3

Caught in the Crossfire – printed issue #2

As a follow up to 2013’s broadsheet, I published another one in 2014 (again, for the 2014 WFMU Record Fair).  This time around, I wrote about protest in current music and modes of portable music listening.  Artists include The National, Richard Wagner / Jonas Kaufman, Kanye West and Santigold.

If you weren’t able to stop by at my table a the fair, it’s available for download here – if you are partial to simulacra, you can print it out double-sided on a slightly off-white cardstock.

Otherwise, I still have a few left of the original print run for the cost of shipping, if interested please comment here and I will drop you a note via e-mail (your comment will not be made public unless you desire)

Many thanks to Forced Exposure for their continued sponsorship / moral support and those who spared a kind word or two.  The next issue will be published for the 2015 WFMU Record Fair in May.

Caught in the Crossfire #2

Somewhat of a Personal History c. 1997-2008, via Shopping Bags (Part One)

I have an appreciation for well-designed shopping bags – they’re branding made utilitarian, a logo given life on the streets.

I don’t profess to collect them – in fact, these days I just throw everything into a bag I bring myself.  However, over the years I have kept a few that I found unusual or appealing.  The funny thing is that it’s less likely than not that I still have whatever I brought home in these bags, but in a way that’s kind of the beauty of it.

Here are a few that I particularly connect to, along with some recollections.  As a disclaimer, this is mostly from memory – I’ve tried to confirm certain details where possible, but not strenuously so.

#1 – Liquid Sky, New York City, circa 1997/8

Liquid Sky

Fig. 1 – Liquid Sky, New York City

Liquid Sky was a clothing and record label expatriated from Brazil and based in New York in the 90s (among other things, the label was: responsible for breaking DJ Spooky, an early proponent of  junglism in the US and an experimental variant of IDM called “illbient”).  Their boutique on Lafayette Street was an early streetwear pioneer in the neighborhood and is probably now most famous for employing a pre-Kids Chloe Sevigny as a sales assistant.  The clothes were laid out in the front and the records were in the back and maybe downstairs.

This bag brought home a Liquid Sky hoodie for Ms. Crossfire.  I remember it cost $85, which was expensive at the time – I remember the woman who sold me it saying that she wished her boyfriend would buy her expensive hoodies.  I’d like to think it was Ms. Sevigny, but the timing doesn’t match up.

In any case, the store was replaced by the boutique for Issey Miyake’s prepper lifestyle brand Final Home a year or two later.  I think Liquid Sky had a short-lived and somewhat depressing existence on St. Marks before going back to Brazil after September 11.

#2 Helmut Lang, New York City, circa 1998-2002


Fig. 2 – Helmut Lang, New York City

What is there to say about Helmut Lang?  Among other things, he helped re-invent menswear basics and was at the forefront of a number of retail innovations.  Most notoriously among the latter, he was the first designer to take advantage of the new advertising space on top of New York taxis in the late 90s (in a move considered controversial in fashion at the time).  He was also one of the first ready-to-wear designers to post lookbooks online – at a time that Prada’s website only had a landing page and phone number you could call to find your nearest Prada store.  And – he was ahead of the pack in terms of getting away from bulky shopping bags in favor of plastic ones.  Minimal, sleek and functional – the epitome of Helmut Lang.

I was basically obsessed with this store from 1998-2002.  On its day, the staff could vibe you on par with Supreme.  Regarding this bag, I remember Agnes B up the street copying it and the staff having a conniption about it.  Another memory was overhearing a crisis when Brad Pitt’s assistant ordered something for him over the phone but wasn’t given the appropriate discount.

If I’m honest, this brand’s influence is still being felt throughout Soho – including these bags (see Part Two; in the meantime you can also use your imagination).

#3 Het Modepaleis (Dries Van Noten), Antwerp, circa 2001-2


Fig. 3- Het Modepaleis, Antwerp

Ms. Crossfire spent a year doing research in Antwerp starting September, 2001.  At the time, I was a consultant on full salary working for a company who were struggling with sales.  I had lots of time on my hands and the timing couldn’t be better – the dollar was at an all-time high against the Euro (almost twice as strong as it is now) and direct roundtrip flights to Brussels were about $300.

Het Modepaleis is the flagship store for the Dries Van Noten brand and is located in his home town of Antwerp.  If you know the brand, it is needless to say that it is housed in an impeccably furnished 19th Century building from the Belle Epoque. (If you don’t know the brand, suffice to say that it’s the kind of brand to be housed in an impeccably furnished 19th Century building from the Belle Epoque – but not insufferably so).

This bag features the above building (literally translated as “The Fashion Palace”) primarily and the brand secondarily.  Which is as it should be.

#4 Mode 2001 Exhibition, Antwerp, 2001


Fig. 4 – Mode 2001, Antwerp

2001 was also the year that the Flanders Fashion Institute put on the Mode 2001 exhibit, a civic celebration of the Flemish contribution to global fashion.  Curated by Antwerp visionary / eccentric Walter van Beirendonck, it was sort of a giddy, city-wide version of a Costume Institute exhibition.  The exhibition was commemorated with a handful of museum exhibitions and related publications.

This bag brought home: the Mode 2001 catalog (which I’ve embarrassingly never opened), the Antwerp fashion walk guidebook, a capital “A” floating keychain, a WvB designed long sleeve t-shirt and the inaugural “A” issue of a magazine that apparently evolved into A Magazine Curated By (said issue was edited by Dirk van Saene).

#5 Wouters & Hendrix, Antwerp, circa 2002

Wouters & Hendrix

Fig. 5 – Wouters & Hendrix, Antwerp

Rounding out the Antwerp section, this one’s kind of cheating since I’ve never been to this store (of which there are now three).  Ms. Crossfire ended up there somehow and bought me a pair of abalone shell cufflinks to go with a French cuff shirt that I had bought at the Modepaleis (I still have both).  I still think of it as more art gallery than jewelry boutique – the story Ms. C told me involved a small paper animal sculpture that one of the staff placed in her hand and was seemingly animated by its trembling motion and warmth.  The bag appears to be hand stained.

(to be continued)