The ATL Twins are Spring Breakers Forever (Photos by Dustin Chambers)

Any story about Sidney and Thurman Sewell starts with a party. People are always hanging around their Midtown loft, sipping vodka and soda and staring out the floor-to-ceiling windows 26 stories above Peachtree Street. Sometimes it’s a music video director and a girl they met in the strip club or a guy they used to skateboard with and a few girls they met while, well, they really can’t remember. Maybe Trinidad James is on the stereo. Maybe Gucci Mane. Some pictures that Terry Richardson took for a fashion magazine are framed on the wall. Sidney and Thurman hang out with reporters a lot. One January night, a photographer and I are the journalists at the party. The next weekend it will be a couple of guys with Vice. The month after that, a Page Six spy will report their activities at a club in New York.

Read on at  And don’t miss the Full Photo Gallery to get a taste of a day in the life of the ATL Twins.

The photography is done by my acquaintance/high school alum Dustin Chambers, these dudes are fascinating, check out the Vice profile for more antics.

Drake, “Started From The Bottom”

My boss loves this and now so must I.

I don’t have to love Drake’s dance moves or the weird, Twilight Zone skits in which everyone on Earth has been replaced by a more annoying version of themselves, so here’s not the music video.


ok. it has come to my attention that someone has made a shibaconfessions blog to wait for this blog to come back. this blog was originally never going to come back, but the admin of this blog got angry, so we’re back. 




That sure sounded like an opinion!

Daughter, “Medicine (Sound Remedy remix)”

Dubstep’s influence has mostly waned in the face of moombahton and trap music these days (though I’m sure a couple of diehard dubbros would wub to prove me wrong), which I find great, as it means all the terrible derivative and slapdash remixes churned out for each and every chart-topper have now been forced onto those other subgenres.

I’m psyched cause it lets tracks like this one stand out: a seven-minute plea from one girl watching her friend choose to crumble before her eyes; a subject far removed from Skrillex’s rock and roll chant-alongs. Rather than seeing how much can be conveyed by the low-end, this takes cues from the airy, melodic synths of house, with the driving sound of the breakdowns provided by (you guessed it) 8-bit keyboarding.

I also like to pretend that during those sliced up vocals, she’s calling out “from a-a-all that ass, from a-a-all that ass.” Just to reassure you that my ear’s in the right place.