How Last Night's Pitchfork Office Party with Beach Fossils Really Went Down

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No photos because they searched us for photographic devices on the way in.

So Pitchfork had a party in their Greenpoint office last night. The young exuberant fellas of Beach Fossils played. Pitchfork.tv taped it. There was a keg and some awesome vodka made by a neighborhood guy named Tito. Some people named Zach Baron and Camille Dodero were there, but not anyone named Rob Harvilla because he's busy rioting over the Lakers win in Los Angeles. (Grrr.) There were also people there named Sean Fennessey and Chris Ryan and Ryan Dombal who looked very dapper in a tie and Eavvon O'Neal and I'm basically going to list everyone I spoke to/made eye contact with so this will pop up on many Google Alerts and Jessica Amason and Sam Horine and Mike Powell and some guy from Boston named Ben and Joe Coscarelli and a weekend blogger from Daily Intel who loves Jen Doll and doesn't have any tattoos and Rory Ahearn and Riff Raff whose real name is Nick Sylvester and Leon Neyfakh and some girl nicknamed Meatball and some other girl not nicknamed after a meat product though I suggested she call herself Frankfurt. Exhale. Also, Pitchfork Reviews Reviews was there, but I was the only one who noticed he was there because he was so stealthy. And damned if he didn't perfectly observe and report the scene that went down when Ryan Schreiber walked in:

a hush fell over the room when ryan schreiber made his grand entrance, he stood eight feet tall and was trailed by three interns hoisting boomboxes over their heads that were playing Wolf Like Me by TV on the Radio, and also two interns carrying smoke machines. this lent a certain epicness to the proceedings you know what i mean? one of the interns with a boombox fainted and got swiftly carried out by two guys from the Advertising department (who i could identify because they were covered in complimentary American Apparel from head to toe). before they reached the door schreiber commanded them to immolate the intern's body in the video editing suite that's located above the main office space, noting how that intern had cracked under the pressure. anyway schreiber was wearing a t-shirt for an Ed Droste side project so obscure that ryan schreiber is literally the only person who has ever heard it. during the thirty seconds i talked to schreiber, he told me he's planning to review the Ed Droste record himself and give it a 10.0, you will have to download the review in a PDF to connote the gravity of the writing, and then schreiber will delete the mp3s of the record the burn the master tapes so no one can ever hear it, and maybe put the video for what would have been the single on Pitchfork.tv but make it a broken link, and then after he told me his plans he smirked and nodded in self-satisfaction and said "yeah that's what i'm gonna do, that's how much i loathe independent music and culture." couldn't believe what i was hearing. when Beach Fossils played later in the evening he stood behind them, brandishing an actual pitchfork menacingly, and when i talked to the lead singer he said ryan kept whispering, "play tighter, play more authentic" but they didn't know what that meant

The Ed Droste shirt was blue. He missed that part. [Pitchfork Reviews Reviews]

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