NOT IN SERVICE

There are a lot of things I’m probably supposed to say about Steel Panther. Talk about how it’s a completely satirical rendition of band that was hugely famous in an era that I, unfortunately, didn’t get to document personally. Maybe talk about how girls taking their shirts off at rock concerts is cliche and demoralizing to women. Or even about how constantly singing about hookers, venereal diseases and cocks is a little over the top. Fuck that.

Steel Panther may be a caricature of the glam and hair metal bands that they started covering, but these days the stuff that passes for “rock n’ roll” could use a little more hairspray, leopard print and definitely more power chords. Steel Panther gave the sold out crowd at House of Blues a big ole’ injection of classic, balls out rock straight from their crotches. The type of pure, testosterone based music that allows long-haired guys to wear shirts with exposed nipples and sequins, put on makeup with a Pretty Pretty Princess mirror, dance in sync and hit notes that have no business coming out of a dude’s mouth, without their manhood ever being questioned. I’m not just saying that because half of their lyrics about girls who picked undressing as a career choice and would happily let you do lines of blow off their asses. I’m saying it because there was more manliness pouring off of this stage than there was at GWAR, it just didn’t happen to be physically covering everything in sight.

There’s no shortage of on-stage antics during their shows either. At one point in time they covered Hoobastank’s “The Reason” and it was the only time I’ve ever heard that song and not wanted to kill myself. Michael Starr (lead singer / Bret Michaels look-a-like) comments on the quality of the sex he just had with Lexxi Foxxx’s (bass player / Joan Rivers with talent) mother. They work together, so moms being a topic of discussion is really no big deal, right? Until he takes it one step further and says that he screwed her so hard that she got diarrhea ass all over his dad’s face. That all came out of the mouth of a PhD in English Literature from Berkeley who was also an Assistant Professor at Texas A & M. You call it crossing the line, Steel Panther calls it another day at the office.

Concerts and shows are two different things. Some of the most dynamic, most talented musicians have absolutely no stage presence. They know how to play music, but they don’t know to play a crowd. On the other end of the spectrum, you can be blown away by a show put on by an artist with no musical merit that’s also tone deaf. The band that sounds like the cologne from Anchorman did both. You won’t hear me say face-melting very often, but that’s exactly what it was. Satchel plays the guitar like he was born with it between his legs. Stix (Last name of Zadinia. See what he did there?) made the entire drum kit his bitch. Lexxi Foxxx actually played his bass–and made it look cool. And the English professor, well, he’s my idol. All I’m saying is, if the Mayan apocalypse happened a year early on December 29th after this concert, I would have died with a huge shit-eating grin on my face.

DATE: Thursday, December 29, 2011
WORDS BY: Ben Dahl ( @CobaltInfinity )
PHOTOS BY: Brendan Shanley ( @lostinprint )

Graham Colton is no stranger to Chicago. After a show and interview with us in February, he was back at Lincoln Hall in October and then again for this show in December. Chicago isn’t officially Graham’s home, but it’s probably about time he think about renting something here because the people assembled at Lincoln Hall love him like he grew up just down the street. The sentiment is for good reason. Graham Colton is one of the most genuine people to have ever struck a chord with a guitar…or a fan.

This performance, like all the others, is a trip down memory lane. A time before wives and responsibilities and full-time jobs. A time when you didn’t really care about what music other people were listening to and what was and wasn’t cool. It was all about music that you could connect to. Maybe it was the sound, or the lyrics or even the feeling behind it, but you connected. Graham makes that happen every time he takes the stage, and this time was no different. He eloquently forces you to forget about the shitty day you just had, the girl that broke your heart or the fact you have to work in six hours; the only thing that matters is that moment you’re living in right now.

As he emotes about events and feelings from his past, you can’t help but relate to his experiences in one way or another. He’s honest, almost to a fault at some times, but it’s never contrived. Somehow, he poured every ounce of that into his performance. He’s an excellent guitar player, singer and songwriter, but Graham’s true gift is his ability to connect with his audience on a level most people have never experienced.

DATE: Thursday, December 15, 2011
WORDS BY: Ben Dahl ( @CobaltInfinity )
PHOTOS BY: Brendan Shanley ( @lostinprint )

It takes a certain kind of person to like iwrestledabearonce. You have to be willing to separate the part of your brain that tells your eardrums to start bleeding from the rest of your body. If you can’t do that, you better have earplugs because if you don’t you’re not going to be able to hear yourself think twenty minutes in.

The thing about iwrestledabearonce is that they don’t really have a thing. They so desperately try to avoid categorization that the constant genre-bending comes across as spastic. At times it’s operatic. At others, it’s psychotic. Sometimes, it’s even beautiful. What’s even more curious is that this constantly shifting sonic calamity generally happens a few times in one three minute window. You don’t have time to make a decision about whether or not you love it or hate it before the slow thump of guitars, bass and drums gets replaced with thrash metal and screaming you’d normally call the cops about.

What’s important to keep in mind though is that you have to be ridiculously talented to pull off something half as impressive as this iwrestledabearonce performance. Krysta Cameron can go from a scream that would make Tom Araya jealous to a harmony that would leave Amy Lee unemployed faster than you can do, well, just about anything. Surround her with a very capable cast of supporting characters on the strings and sticks and an untethered, chaotic sort of magic happens. It’s not for everyone, and it’s not music you’d want to knock boots to. What it is is music with a pulse that might be a little outside of your normal comfort zone that will get your blood pumping, your fists flying and your brain rattling. Even if that doesn’t sound like your cup of tea, go see them. It takes a talented group of people to do in an entire album what iwrestledabearonce does in one song, and as long as you can appreciate talent, you’ll be blown away.

DATE: Tuesday, December 06, 2011
WORDS BY: Ben Dahl ( @CobaltInfinity )
PHOTOS BY: Tracy Graham ( @tracygrahamcrkr )

If you play video games, or you spend any amount of time on the Internet, you’ve probably heard of the popular webcomic Penny Arcade. In an effort to give back to the community they helped build, the guys behind it started the charity Child’s Play. The goal of Child’s Play is to put toys and games in hospitals that sick children can use while they’re in the hospital. Chicago Loot Drop is an organization that was started in 2011 to help raise funds and gather toys for University of Chicago’s Comer Children’s Hospital. In other words, it’s a really good cause. What does any of that have to do with this? Chicago Loot Drop held a fundraising concert at Reggie’s that included a Rock Band 3 tournament and a performance by the kings of 8-bit, Minibosses. Which is where we come in.

A long time ago, in a galaxy not so far away, there was a gaming console that didn’t have 3D, couldn’t connect to the Internet and had graphics that couldn’t compare to the major motion pictures at the time. It was called the Nintendo Entertainment System, and if you’re anything like us, that gray box was your first introduction to people like Mario, Link and Fox. Enter Minibosses. The prog rock/experimental metal group plays classic NES hits on actual stringed and mounted instruments. This isn’t the epic tale of a plumber dodging fireballs and bounding bottomless pits encoded in 8-bit by a computer, it’s four dudes playing that shit on real instruments. It’s never anything we’d recommend, but it’s probably like doing acid as an eight year old.

From Kid Icarus to Megaman to Contra to every-other-game-you-played-on-the-NES, Minibosses tears a sonic hole between reality and imaginary with some of the most talented fingering you’ll find outside of the Internet. Are they playing covers of video game songs you’ve heard before? Yeah, but who the hell cares? At the end of the day, the songs are recognizable enough to be familiar but different enough to be good. It’s like running into the girl you had a crush on in grade school after college and finding out she stumbled into being gorgeous. The emotional attachment is still there, but the presentation is so out of this world different that you can’t help but get excited. Minibosses were the protagonists of the evening, engaged in an epic boss fight to help kids with potentially life-threatening diseases by putting some more joy in their lives with a shot of video game rock n’ roll. They shredded the competition.

DATE: Sunday, November 20, 2011
WORDS BY: Ben Dahl ( @CobaltInfinity )
PHOTOS BY: Brendan Shanley ( @lostinprint )

There are plenty of other reviews on the Internet that will tell you the sold out (SOLD OUT!) City and Colour show at The Vic Theatre on Black Wednesday was the greatest thing to happen to music since Autotune. That Dallas Green has the voice of an angel and the power to make anything with legs and ears swoon until the smile on their face couldn’t be imitated by the late Heath Ledger. That running into Green (for all intents and purposes, the sole member of City and Colour) and shaking his hand is the only significant thing that will happen in an otherwise minuscule existence. This is not one of those reviews.

Before you get all crazy, let’s clear a few things up. First of all, Dallas Green’s voice is fucking amazing. He’s the Freddie Mercury or the Bob Dylan or the Ray Charles of folk music. His voice alone has probably led to more than one pair of shaky legged encounter leading to the tour bus. Secondly, City and Colour is generally good music to put on and zone out to. He also sold out The Vic, which is no small feat in and of itself. As if all of that wasn’t enough of a reason to sit down and drink an IPA or a bottle of whiskey with him, he’s got some really sweet sleeves. But none of those aspects led to anything more than a show that was a collection of disparate parts punctuated with small highlights.

Green’s music when accompanied by a touring band can be perfectly described by the attire of the people surrounding him. The clean cut, buttoned up drummer in red and white checks with a navy tie. A bass player rocking a tucked in oxford and suspenders. Cowboy hats and cufflinks and ascots. Full suits and repp ties (think diagonal stripes in primary colors). All those seemingly unrelated things come together under the guidance of the tatted-up Green in a newsboy, golf style cap and plaid. It’s classic Americana, but Canadian. Hipsters from the North if you will. Depending on your perspective, that could be a damn good start. But Green ditches the rest of the troupe in favor of going it alone more often than not. This lets him really shine as the amazing voice and songwriting talent that he is, but it also results in a sound that’s as much lullaby as it is emotional harmony. In other words, you could fall asleep standing up.

Technically (no air quotes), City and Colour is good. Scratch that. City and Colour is a fantastically talented group of musicians, especially Green. Ultimately, the problem with this show was everyone that was there. Maybe it’s the somber tone and volume of the music, but some people need to learn to shut the fuck up. Find a video on YouTube of this performance where there isn’t at least one asshole talking and send it to me. I will personally buy you a Fat Tire, or an eargasm or whatever the fuck else it was that everyone was talking about over Green’s supposedly angelic voice. Now you’re probably thinking to yourself, “that’s not their fault.” I might be inclined to agree with you if Green hadn’t stopped the show at one point to tell everyone to put their phones away for a song and enjoy the show. Enjoying the show is a lot easier said than done when every Joey and his brother needs to share his feelings at the top of his lungs.

To be completely honest, the show wasn’t a total bust. Seeing Green live was a great way to reconnect with the music that let him sell out intimate venues like The Vic in the first place. Unless he starts telling people to shut the fuck up though, I’m just going to stay at home and listen to it by myself.

DATE: Wednesday, November 23, 2011
WORDS BY: Ben Dahl ( @CobaltInfinity )
PHOTOS BY: Tracy Graham ( @tracygrahamcrkr )

First, a disclaimer: I actually like(d) the Truant Wave EP. It could be the less developed part of my brain that actually used to like Fall Out Boy rearing its ugly head again, or the silky vocals superimposed on top of drum tracks and pianos, but I was actually excited to see him return home as part of the tour for his debut album Soul Punk. Turns out it would have been a good idea to listen to Soul Punk before agreeing to attend the show.

After having seen the music performed live, I’m sufficiently convinced the album should have been called White Chocolate because the music, like white chocolate, only contains trace amounts of the stimulants that make its more flavorful big brother so delicious. Other, darker, purer chocolates can be digested on their own. White chocolate requires peppermint or pretzels or other additives to actually sit well in your stomach. Sadly, all of those extra ingredients that would have made a performance of Truant Wave something to write home about were absent in this performance.

Stump walked out on stage dressed like Bowie attending a cocktail party to the shrill holler of what I can only assume was a legion of high school girls in love with him. He danced, drummed, swung his guitar around, nailed some seriously difficult a capella notes, and even covered Phil Collins. By all accounts, I should have loved the performance. But I’m not a high school girl with a voice that is capable of reaching a frequency only dogs can hear. Something was missing. Something that was there on Truant Wave just wasn’t at this show. Stump has already shown us that there’s a serious chance he could wear the hat the once famous boy-bander turned actor wore for a while, but it’s not going to happen until he re-injects some of that dark flavor back into the live performance because as it stands it’s pretty bland.

DATE: Wednesday, November 11, 2011
WORDS BY: Ben Dahl ( @CobaltInfinity )
PHOTOS BY: Tracy Graham ( @tracygrahamcrkr )

Puscifer isn’t just the band/project/stream of consciousness endeavor that Maynard James Keenan (Yes, THAT Maynard.) uses as a moniker for his solo work, it’s the highway exit on a journey of creative self discovery. Maynard will be the madman behind the wheel for tonight’s festivities.

Picture yourself riding shotgun in a beat up jalopy barreling down a dusty desert road at eighty miles an hour in the middle of the night as you watch your entire life flash before your eyes and everything around you spins blissfully out of control. The man behind the steering wheel is a cowboy hat adorned man still wearing sunglasses with a face that’s almost featureless because of the shadow that looms over his face. Seated between the two of you on the bench seat is a woman that easily doubles as a 50s pinup girl. Bouncing around in the bed is a collection of other co-conspirators that are important to your journey and would never be left behind, but are overshadowed by the company you keep in the slightly-more-safe confines of the cab. A slow rumble starts from somewhere you can’t quite pinpoint as the man leans over and assures you that everything’s going to be ok in a voice that you immediately trust.

Puscifer isn’t a collection of objects on stage used as set pieces. It isn’t just an Airstream trailer, picnic tables, wine and a hayrack. It’s also not just a group of talented musicians operating instruments with precision normally reserved for the orchestra pit at the Cadillac Palace Theater. The vintage films rolling behind the band and the shtick infomercials all add to the ambiance, but they’re not Puscifer either. Puscifer isn’t just Maynard either. Puscifer is a fucking experience.

If H.G. Wells were living in the deserts of New Mexico during the late 40s and decided to start a band with instruments he invented himself, that might be kind of like a live Puscifer show. Take your favorite cowboy, turn him into a metal musician and that could sound kind of like Puscifer live. Give Jean-Luc Godard the freedom to do whatever the hell he wants and the end result has the potential to look like Puscifer sounds. But really, feeling Puscifer live is an invitation-only trip to an alternate reality where corsets, cowboy hats, sideshows and Airstream trailers dissolve seamlessly into the world of the paranormal and the electronic–with a beer line.

It’s not often that I use the word transcendent to describe a live musical performance, but Puscifer fits the bill. Puscifer wasn’t just a concert. It was a one night only spectacle that we had the pleasure and fortune to document. You owe it to yourself to be at the next show.

DATE: Tuesday, November 15 2011
WORDS BY: Ben Dahl ( @CobaltInfinity )
PHOTOS BY: Brendan Shanley ( @lostinprint )

Portishead live is much like Portishead when they get around to releasing new tracks – an exercise in enigmatic restraint. Somewhere between the constantly rolling opening sequence to a Bond film (including the visuals) and the soundtrack for a suspenseful mind fuck thriller starring Naomi Watts is where you will find Portishead’s live performance.

Even though all the members of the band are awash in a color palette of lights that would have been just as fitting at a Halloween show, it’s clear there isn’t much pageantry in their appearance and, honestly, it’s not necessary. The reason Portishead has always been so popular is the same reason they never would have made it as a band from the US in the 90s. It’s a devolved collection of vocals that mix and mingle with turntable scratches and guitar shrieks to the point that it almost feels like a computer trapped in some alternate reality is trying to communicate with you. On this particular night, that computer was very angry.

Though no fault of the band’s (they did their best to play through it), the sound went horribly wrong. Think HAL 9000 put through the ringer on Will It Blend and then filtered through nails on a chalkboard before ultimately liquefying your ear canals to a depth even Q-Tips can’t reach. Yeah, it was that bad. Eventually there was some amount of damage control and it was back to business as usual. As Gibbons’ vocals returned to a frequency understandable with human ears, it became clear that her poignant brand of coo is the glue in the band. Everything plays backup to Gibbons’ vocals. You might need a machine to decipher them every once in a while, but that doesn’t mean you can’t like it.

DATE: Wednesday, October 12, 2011
WORDS BY: Ben Dahl ( @CobaltInfinity )
PHOTOS BY: Tracy Graham ( @tracygrahamcrkr )

Let me just start this by saying that I have never been as blown away by a band I’ve never heard of as I was with Okkervil River. The first fifteen minutes of the set alone made me seriously question what rock I had been living under for the last few years to have never heard of them. The band has quite a few oddly tiny instruments, but the sounds that come out of them in the hands of their talented masters is nothing short of mind blowing – and it all starts with the bearded man in the sportcoat that could easily pass for a college lit professor.

Will Sheff is more than just the professor of pick, the teacher of thrum or the rabbi of reverb, he’s the beating heart of the band. Layered atop his own abrupt acoustic strums, his normally soothing voice takes turns towards a more gruff, primal roar that enunciates the emotion behind the lyrics. Couple that with iterative percussion and drums and violin and mandolin support that’s nothing short of symphonic and it’s not too hard to figure out why this band has ripping the indie circuit a new one for more than a decade. But again, as Sheff is the only remaining original member, he’s the musical glue that binds.

There’s something foreign and yet inherently familiar about elements of each of their songs. There are elements of Robert Smith in the vocals. Elements of The Hold Steady and The Antlers and Bright Eyes and Dispatch and Tom Petty that you can pick out of the indie haystack like little needles. People say Okkervil River is indie folk rock, but it’s not. It’s Robert Smith as an English lit professor driving a VW van with Tom Petty riding shotgun and Dispatch in the back – crashing through a Mardi Gras Indians Second Line where everyone has tiny instruments. A recipe for disaster in anyone else’s hands, but Will Sheff and the other members of Okkervil River make it look and sound like second nature.

DATE: Thursday, September 22, 2011
WORDS BY: Ben Dahl ( @CobaltInfinity )
PHOTOS BY: Will Rice (@tweetwillrice)

The Nixon 51-30 is a huge watch. Correction: The Nixon 51-30 is a fucking huge watch. With a 51.25mm diameter case (See what they did there? Nixon is so clever.), the watch monopolizes all of the wrist real estate of even the most big-boned individual. Weighing it at approximately one metric ton, it single-handedly has the power to make you walk lopsided. In short, this is not a watch for the faint of heart.

However, if you’re looking to make a “go big or go home” sort of statement (for one reason or another), this is the watch for you. It’s got a rotating bezel with countdown timer for long dives that you’ll never use. It’s got a screw down crown and tide control. The screw down crown has been relocated to the 9:00 position (along with the tide control) to prevent fucked up hands when spilling (it’s a skate/surf watch). Moving it is a great idea – in theory – but unless you’re built like The Rock the case is still going to dig into your wrist and the relocated crown is going to dig into your forearm. Still, it’s not a bad idea if you shred the powder/street/surf because sooner or later you’re going to eat it. When you do, you’ll be thankful you’re only left with a $300 watch bill instead of a thousand dollar insurance deductible. Which brings me to my next point – the price.

Currently available for $325+ at Back Country depending on trim (ceramic/wood/spinners), it’s not the cheapest watch on the market. You could pick up 30 Darch watches, 6 limited edition Timex pieces or even 2 Nixon Rubber Players for that amount of cash. We’ve established that it’s huge, mildly uncomfortable, pricey and totally capable of destroying your wrist in epic fashion. Why buy it? Because it’s huge, mildly uncomfortable, pricey and totally capable of serving as a bludgeon. All of the same reasons it’s a horrible idea – in theory – are what make it the best idea in watches. It makes a statement. It can’t be ignored. You would – quite literally – have to be blind not to be able to read this watch. For all its flaws, it still looks damn good. If I were buying it again (I would) I would opt for a bracelet instead of the weird “midnight” leather option, but those are the sacrifices you make for a $150 discount from Whiskey Militia.

Bankruptcy isn’t the only byproduct of an addiction to Gilt Man. It frequently results in casual neck noose acquisitions like the Ben Sherman dogtooth stripe plaid tie you see here. For all intents and purposes (i.e. according to Google) dogtooth stripe is something limited to Ben Sherman, so feel free to inform me otherwise if necessary. Even if the pattern was dreamed up by someone at Ben Sherman, it doesn’t change the fact that this tie just plain looks good. On to the fine print.

On the backend (we’re all enthralled with the little details), the tie is Made in China of 100% silk. The silk part is great, the China part – not so much. Whatever. I’m all for sustainability and everything, but cost and looks are the larger factors for me. [Ed's note - If you're looking for something on the more sustainable, socially responsible end of the spectrum, I highly recommend you check out Commerce With A Conscience because it's filled with stuff that you will end up buying.] If a tie ends up lasting long enough to become a “heritage” piece that’s great, but I’m not planning on it. Which isn’t to say that this tie is made poorly because it’s not. You can tell from the pictures below that the seams and stitching are still good quality.

It’s only been knotted up twice, but based on the comments at the company Christmas party this is going to be a big hit. You can’t really go wrong integrating a little color into your wardrobe, especially if you can rock a 2″ skinny tie. Unfortunately, if you’re interested in this particular number, you’re going to have to bide your time. At the time of writing, it isn’t available anywhere. I picked it up from Gilt for the bargain basement, final sale price of $24.

Update: It’s technically sold out right now, but you can get on the waitlist right now.

Hi, my name is Ben and I have a problem. That problem is Gilt Man. How am I supposed to pass up Ben Sherman, Steven Alan, and Gilded Age ties for $111? Technically, since I had an account credit, I only paid $5 for shipping. Seems like a small price to pay an order which includes a wool knit Steven Alan square bottom, Ben Sherman Dogtooth Stripe and a Gilded Age cotton plaid.

Here’s hoping this unhealthy addiction doesn’t end up with a purchase from Worst of Gilt. Until I get tiem to actually wear these – and do a full review – enjoy the pictures. As always, you can click to embiggen.

Last week I talked about how I was starting the In Search Of feature and the first thing in my seemingly endless quest would be the perfect notebook for notes, drawings, concert reviews, ish, etc. Fuck saving the best for last, we’re starting with the reigning champion – Field Notes.

Field Notes are diminutive in size (3.5″ x 5.5″), contain 48 pages (each side counts as one page) and are available in ruled, grid and blank. They also happen to be loaded with helpful applications, coordinate spaces and other Farmer’s Almanac type shit that I find intriguing – but have absolutely no use for. They’re bound together with three adequately placed staples. They hold them together pretty well and I can’t really think of any good way to romanticize staples. This is, first and foremost, a memo book, so don’t expect ridiculous fabric straps, unnecessary pockets and an unusable first page. You can literally graffiti every part of the little notebook that could.

In case you haven’t skipped ahead to the pictures yet, the blue memo book is beat to shit. For once, this torture testing wasn’t intentional. The blue Field Notes was subjected to approximately 12oz of Ketel Red Bull in the line of duty at The Metro. Yes, I just got it; no, it wasn’t my fault. The cover got scuffed and worn down in a few places. The ink appears to have bled, but not in the typical sense. The notes on the opposite side of the page are visible through the page, but the ink hasn’t bled through. It’s like holding a piece of paper up to a light except the lines are a slight haze of purple (probably the inks fault). If anything, the “patina” has improved with the addition of the original alcoholic energy drink (RIP 4 Loko).

What seemed like a ruinous tidal wave of deliciousness actually turned into a character creating moment for that particular Field Notes. The entire experience added some extra flavor to the notebook. Even though I won’t purposely waste more alcohol recreating the process, I quite like that it happened.

3pk for $10 at Field Notes

Unless your head has been up your ass for the better part of the calendar year, you are already in the know about the Timex Oversize Camper. It popped up on GQ, Por Homme, Hypebeast, Selectism, Sartorially Inclined and most of the other sites you read while pretending to work. All this coverage is great for Timex and their little-military-watch-that-could, but it made the Timex Oversize Camper jump the shark faster than Three’s Company. But that was April and this is now, so hopefully the hype has died down. Not to mention the fact that, even with all this coverage, no one had any real world shots or experiences with the watch itself. The Internet hype machine was just regurgitating the same olive drab marketing picture over and over and o…you get the idea. Regardless of all the reasons not to, I pulled the trigger.

I bet on black. It’s not that I’m not a fan of the olive drab, but the black got nowhere near as much coverage as it’s camo counterpart. I also wanted a simple, inexpensive, stereotypical black number to offset the growing number of rubber, silicone and/or ridiculously colored watches in the box. Or maybe this is all just me rationalizing because Nordstrom didn’t have the olive one in stock.

After dropping a little over $50 on it two weeks ago, I’m still on the fence. Is it oversized? Only in the same way you are after Thanksgiving. Compared to your former self, sure, you’re a little bigger. It will fade in a few days, and even then it’s only a difference of 2mm (watches are measured in mm; turkey guts in inches). Don’t forget the fact that most standard watch measurements factor in crown as well, so the whole 42mm the Oversize Camper is packing isn’t really anything to write home about. If you’ve ever worn something like a Nixon 51-30 – or you have big wrists – this watch will seem downright tiny.

The only real gripe I have with this watch is the ticking. It’s fucking loud. We’re talking loud to the point it will haunt you in your sleep Tell-Tale Heart level loud. You get over it after a while, but every once in a while it creeps up out of nowhere and forces you to reconsider your previously permanent attachment to your own wrist.

Was it too hyped to begin with? Probably. While I agree with Michael Williams and L.A.S. about most of their points, it’s still a better alternative to some of the other options (including other Timex offerings) in this price range. If you need a sleek watch that’s going to grab some attention, this is still one of your best bets.

$50 at Nordstorm: Black / Olive

In Search Of: is going to be an ongoing feature where I torture test products from different manufacturers designed to fill the same niche market. First on the chopping block is the pocket notebook.

Given the amount of writing that I do, a quality pocket notebook is essential. Right now, I’m running Field Notes, Moleskine, and Piccadilly notebooks through the gamut of live concerts, spilled beer and the County Comm Embassy Pen. There are some see-through pages, some frayed covers and some bleeding, but all of them are holding up admirably well. Next week I’ll do individual posts on each of the three and we’ll see where it goes from there.

If you have any suggestions for notebooks I should murder with words, leave a comment below.

Sometime last week (maybe the week before), Twitter was abuzz with crazy amounts of Lands End Canvas deals. Prior to this round of purchases (some shirts, these belts and the madras tie you saw last week), I was a total newbie to the brand. Now that I’ve learned the error of my ways, I’m seriously kicking myself for not picking up the Lands End Canvas Boots featured in Valet. Now I know better.

The Lands End D-ring Web Belt comes in four colors (khaki, olive, orange and blue) and checks in at a bank breaking $12. If you’re not beginning to sense a theme here, I will click buy for just about anything I’m interested in if it’s less than $50. Yes, I have a problem; no, I’m not going to do anything about it. Based on the size chart, I ordered the belts in Large. I have a 34 – 36″ waist, but I tend to take around 2″ onto belt measurements so that the overlap hits a belt loop. Based on the actual measurement of the belt (46″), Lands End Canvas factored in some overlap because it’s for a 36-38″ waist. Seeing as how it’s much better to have too much than not enough, I have no problem with this. Width wise, it clocks in at 1 3/8″ wide, so it will fit through damn near any loop openings.

The D-rings are supposedly a pewter finish over brass. Even after beating them up all weekend there hasn’t been any chipping so we’ll just have to take their word for it. The belt definitely has a bit of heft to it, which makes it work exceptionally well with the D-ring “mechanism.” Alternating between blue and orange for the past few days, there has been zero slippage – which I have found to be uncommon in D-ring belts. The leather is decent quality and adds a little flair to the ends of the belt. Muted pastel colors mean they’re definitely going to find a home on your chinos and shorts in the summer, but you can probably work them into the mix now if you’re willing to be a little adventurous.

Bottom Line: They hold it up. Pick one (or four) up before they sell out.

Available in khaki, olive, orange and blue for $12 each at Lands End Canvas.

With summer drawing to a close, it’s time to pack up all your madras (pretty cool Lands End article about the history of madras) and throw it in storage until the next time it’s about 70 degrees out. Nonsense. If anything, now is the perfect time to start scooping up all the leftover goodies that brands are clearing out – at bargain basement prices of course. Like this Lands End Canvas Cotton Madras Necktie. $16. Do you know how frequently you spend more than $16 on something you’re only ever going to use once – or is consumable? If you made a list I bet the frequency would surprise you, but that’s not the point. This tie is a steal at $16; it’s still a great deal at twice the price.

The Lands End Canvas description bills it as River Blue Plaid. As you can tell from the pictures, that’s a pretty apt description. 100% cotton madras is a good place to start, but simply saying it’s the fabric of our lives doesn’t really do it justice. This tie is ridiculously soft. Snuggle soft. (Conveniently enough, it would probably look good on the bear too.) On one hand, it makes wearing it a pleasure (super soft handcuffs), and it’s easy to get a good knot. On the other, it’s so soft that it occasionally bunches if you wear it under a sweater, and the knot can be difficult to get out if you pull too tight. The build quality is excellent (solid seams, minimal edge fray) and the badging is very, very tiny.

It’s safe to say that this is the best deal in men’s neckwear right now. Unfortunately, by the time I received my order Lands End Canvas had sold out of the tie. The item number is 38845-3XN7 if you want to do more hardcore digging on your own or wait for a restock.

When it’s not sold out, it’s $16 at Lands End Canvas.

Generic Surplus Wingtip Sneakers are the perfect combination of casual and dress, business and party, 9-5 and 5-9. They’re the footwear equivalent of the mullet -  half business (muted colorway), half pleasure (they are sneakers after all), all awesome (wingtip accents, comfort, style, etc.). Unless you don’t like being comfortable, Generic Surplus Wingtip Sneakers are the best of both shoe worlds – without compromising in either.

The picture above displays the shoes in descending order of wear (Camel – two dozen times, Gray – dozen or so, Black – handful of times) so you can get a feel for what they’re going to look like when they start to break in. Keep in mind that they have never been cleaned (powdered/sprayed, but not cleaned), so you should factor in a generous amount of Chicago footwear beatdown because this city is brutal on shoes. In line with this, the camel and gray are primarily worn sockless which is why the liner tags are so beat up.

My shoe size is between 12-13, depending on manufacturer, style, lunar cycle, etc. These three pairs were all ordered in 12 (Gilt / Jack Threads steals are hard to pass up) and all of them fit fine. However, the black is just a smidge (this is a scientific measurement) tighter than the camel and gray pairs. This doesn’t bother me that much because even though I’m a huge fan of the non-color black, I like the camel and gray pairs exponentially more. Additionally, the white liner on the black shoe – combined with the gray sole – isn’t as striking a presentation as the combination (double white – so intense) on the other two pairs. I would definitely buy the black pair again, but only if I already had the camel and gray.

Depending on your occupation, you might even be able to get away with these at the day job. If it’s a sneaker environment, you classed it up a bit. If it’s not a sneaker environment, they’re kind of, almost, wingtips, so you probably won’t get fired. [I take no responsibility for your lack of continued employment if this situation unfolds differently for you.] They’re affordable; they look good; they’re fun. They come in a pretty sweet box too if that helps make the decision any easier for you.

$44 at Karma Loop. $36 on Jack Threads / GILT if you happen to be patient.