Balkan Music

BUSHWICK SAYS… is back. I document lives of Bushwick residents and strangers through random pictures, quotes, stories, and anecdotes. This week I met a collection of Balkan fans, some bread enthusiasts, and some button-fly dissidents.

“I’m kinda into the Balkan scene.”

“Wait, wait, wait, that’s a thing?”

“Not really. I like the sound.”

“Really? I’m new to all of this right now. I legit thought the band on stage was a high school marching band that veered in a different direction—not that it’s a bad thing.”

He looks at me with a mixture of contempt and who-the-fuck-are-you.

Snake Man

I’m secretly hoping for an ironic ska show because my musical knowledge is, sadly, more in tune with the ska-scene over the Balkan scene. Hell, I know more about Ukrainian Gypsy Punk than I do Balkan music.

I’m waiting for a surprise remake of “Ignition.”

Anyways, a few things from the past week that I’m beginning to enjoy:

Balkan Music: Turns out I love it.

Bushwick has a decent pork-scene. “Dear Bushwick, holy shit, pork. Sincerely, Fred Flintstone”

DIY venues. At first, I didn’t enjoy the “concert in a diner” scene. Cheap beer Bud is winning me over. I feel more American.

Soon to be finished

Still, there are a few things I don’t understand:

Stockholm St, why  you yell so much?

Why so many sirens?

To the car persistently bumping “Snapbacks and Tattoos,” I fucking love you.

To coffee shops, why’s everybody fashionably dressed up for a latte…at 7:30 pm…on a Sunday?

Why I’m contemplating a tattoo of a snapback…

Robo Drunk

I don’t know what to write. I’m very drunk. I love you. No fuckin’ hyperbole.

May you be inspired by each passing taxi cab. Grasp the street liberally and be aggressive.



Hot deli sandwich/Tuba pop grind down down down/Five minutes left to rise

New York hat fast alles ausser leckeres Volkornbrot. [New York has almost everything except Volkornbrot.]

Magical S

Does deep really exist? It cannot be defined. How do we know what we know, if we know anything at all? “Quantum Psychology”

I’m horny


Lessons of the Week:

Never forget you’re wearing button-fly jeans.

You’re a beautiful soul, remember that.


Pork Man