Williamsburg

I've been spending short chunks of time in and out of Williamsburg, Brooklyn, lately -- just short enough to keep me from both going broke and becoming a beehive-haired, plaid-sporting hipster. The 'Burg has been rejuvenated from a disgusting industrial park on the East River to an ultra-cool mega-village that likes to be reminded that it has its roots in a disgusting industrial park. After some time of kids pouring their parents' money into these renovated warehouses, Williamsburg became the throbbing nucleus of all things cool, absurd, ironic, self-aware, ironically self-aware, etc. Unfortunately for its thrift store-hound inhabitants, the competition for coolness has made Williamsburg bars, restaurants, and public events actually quite good.

Today I was joined by a few friends at the East River Park for the final installment of the Jelly Pool Parties, free concerts held on a riverside stage, usually featuring semi-well known indie artists like !!!, Cut Copy, and Deerhoof. Today's concert -- in the pouring rain! -- was Chromeo, a pop electronica duo (I suppose that's what I would label them) from Montreal that uses cool props like the Talk Box and dancing, slender women. Unlike the malady-stricken audience present at the Real Estate concert last week, the crowd at the Chromeo concert was alive and well, soaking wet, dancing like they should've been. I approved.