The Thousands

It's not completely unlikely that 'Gucci Mane's yang' is a euphemism, right? Gross. Think about a trip-ical brainforest instead. Have double vision in a downtown alley. The Roosevelt has a nitrogenised cocktail trolley parked in the corner! Also, holy shit, look how much stuff is on this week.

Cover snap by Hayley. Be awsm like Hayley, send your cover shots to alex@rightanglestudio.com.au.

Much like stable mate Madlib, Jonti is a purveyor par excellence of brief musical sketches, tastes, textures, and smells. He proved this agility and adeptness in last year's ‘Twirligig’ and if only to reinforce his prolificacy has released a cache of earlier recordings in the form of Sine and Moon.

Where Madlib relies on heavy vinyl crackle and obscure samples, Jonti roams freely between live instruments, MPC derived beats, his own voice, wobbly basslines, and synthesized atmospherics. Like a cat dancing on a piano, Jonti’s musical ability is what gives Sine and Moon its varied terroir - from the head-nodding rhythm and rhyme of ‘Red and Green’ to the chugging drums, bass, and futuristic synths of ‘Young Wildebeest’.

Sine and Moon is worth the ear time for its sheer variety alone, which is often an element lacking in a lot of rap/beats/hip-hop that ride the mix-tape circuit. Jonti is the ying to Gucci Mane’s yang. Go forth and download.

It's easy to underestimate the reality of gangsta culture, with prep school girls flashing gang symbols in Facebook photos and Blood and Crip flannelette print shoes for sale at suburban shopping malls.

Since 1979, Teen Angels has been a testament to the fact that some very real people live lives that are very different from ours. Cover-to-cover, each issue reprints handmade art from Chicano contributors. Awash with guns, lowriders, hot babes and gang paraphernalia, you can argue that it glamorises some unhealthy practices, but like N.W.A., this is also simply a case of people reporting on the world they already live in.

What's rad is Teen Angels provides a positive creative outlet; the art enclosed is obviously pored over, finely detailed with loving care. What's sad is that a lot of these drawings are from inmates, with their addresses enclosed. A lot of these images are the idealised daydreams of incarcerated individuals.

It's not all heartbreak, however; there's some humor herein (this issue's Christmas centerfold is particularly adorable). Stockists are sporadic online via eBay but have a hunt around; every issue of Teen Angels is an interesting keepsake and a glimpse into a real street subculture. And every page is a single person's chance to shine.

Joyce Hinterding's 'Spiral', at Breenspace

'Open season' is when British people are allowed by law to shoot things in the pursuit of athleticism; 'opening season', as the efforts of a group of nine galleries in the roughly 2010 postcode region to make sure everyone notices that they've started up for the year of 2012, may seem gentler. But don't worry, there'll still be some baying and trampling; these are art shows after all.

To get full marks for a visit to an opening, you see, you have to secure some form of refreshment, a room sheet, a corner in which to hide from someone with whom you are awkward, and an actual opinion about a piece of art, so it's probably irresponsible for you to encourage yourself to do that unless you've had a really big stretch beforehand.

Presuming you've done that, then: James Dorahy Project Space, Gallery9, Breenspace, Conny Dietzschold Gallery, King St Gallery on William, Liverpool St Gallery, Robin Gibson Gallery, Soho Galleries and Watters Gallery. The shows all continue on into the next couple of weeks, and while this map of the galleries only turns the whole thing into a treasure hunt for the one night, it does remain a handy guide to just how many places in East Sydney there are to look at art.

The scarves of Andéol bear names bordering on trip-ical brainforest – and being a magic-pen-toting child of Byron, I love that. Aditi Atomic. Thread Rhombus. Hara Sisal. Kamadeva’s Arrow. Vishnu Power-egg Kiteflyer. That last one is made up. But the prints, custom-designed by textile designer Emilie Cacace, conjure a kind of straight, pure-sense beauty. Each collection is developed from travel snaps, crystals, swatches and artefacts parlayed into digital prints and pressed onto super-soft silk, printed cushions and plaited silk necklaces at the Think Positive Designer Prints studio in Alexandria.

Vedas Maya takes us to a lush Guatemala and the beliefs of the ancient Mayans via India and the Vedic calendar, whose Hindu scriptures amazingly mirror that of a civilisation half a planet away. Both belief systems feature the Galactic Centre (the rotational centre of the Milky Way) and have a big-ass X marked on December 21, 2012. That’s this year guys, clock it! In the meantime wrap an Andéol round your dome, or dangle some hay in one (they do that in the lookbook). You might not stop the apocalypse but the experience will be satisfying both aesthetically and spiritually, which actually might be the same thing.

The palimpsestic title is a clue: Martha’s (Elizabeth Olsen) innermost identity has been blurred and desecrated by an abusive cult whose leader, Patrick (John Hawkes), renames her ‘Marcy May’, and forces all female members to answer the phone as ‘Marlene’. Seeking shelter with her estranged sister Lucy (Sarah Paulson) and Lucy’s husband Ted (Hugh Dancy), she doesn’t trust her memories yet is petrified Patrick is coming to reclaim her.

Writer-director Sean Durkin’s debut feature is subtly, almost perfectly calibrated between idyllic and terrifying, all the way to its chillingly ambiguous ending. Durkin expertly allows episodic, impressionistic scenes to unfurl and overlap, revealing how seemingly benign everyday objects and gestures have become horrible to Martha, and how her search for meaning has left her irreparably damaged.

As Martha’s behaviour escalates from merely eccentric to hysterical, Lucy and Ted struggle to help; Olsen brilliantly portrays both the opaque object of their frustration and the subject of crippling confusion and panic. Hawkes – who played Teardrop in Winter’s Bone – powerfully conjures menace from hippie-like calm. By the time he’s spouting such truly insane aphorisms as “Death is pure love”, Martha’s in way too deep to ever really be herself again.

If you have been on the book or blogs today, no doubt you've noticed women bejazzing their patterned leggings at the sight of Gorman's Autumn Winter 2012 range. It's landed babes. Well, almost babes. Some of it's in store and some of it's coming. But with boxes arriving weekly it won't be long before all babes are wearing patterned dresses, stripey leggings, full sleeve sweaters, leather skirts, pretty tops, corduroy pants, winter coats, knits, cardigans and more.

A special mention goes to Gorman's accessories department. My goodness the scarfs, beanies and 'teepee umbrella' are enough to get you excited for the torrential rain and nipple numbing winds that seem to be hitting Sydney.

The Roosevelt is something of a local legend in these parts. These parts being Kings Cross, and The Roosevelt being the club owned by Sydney underlord, Abe "awesome name" Saffron.

The Roosevelt may have had a certain heyday, but its 2012 reinvention is a pretty slick operation. It's classic in look, but there are bells and whistles to be found in the form of some grade-A sciencey stuff going on behind the bar. And not just behind the bar; clouds of liquid nitrogen billow out from a custom-built cocktail trolley that's been wearing a track into the carpet. So much, in fact, that since their first week they've had to triple their liquid nitrogen order and are now pretty sure that the only place who tops it is St Vincent's Hospital.

At these prices you probably won't make a night of it, but treat it like theatre and sit back and enjoy the spectacle. The serious mixing skills will come as no surprise to Eau de Vie devotees, but there's more in store. A degustation menu with matching cocktails will begin soon in the back room, in addition to a bar menu that's equal parts ambitious and ambiguous ("confit flavours wrapped in a light and airy presentation" - pardon?).

One of the drink descriptions - The Martini of Tomorrow - references taking a joyride in the DeLorean and bringing back a cocktail from the future. It's a pretty apt metaphor for the whole place. The dapper staff and old-school club vibe may tell one story, but then there's that nitrogenised cocktail trolley parked in the corner, the DeLorean that'll deliver you back to the future.

In a gallery context, video art can be a hard sell. Your knees get sore, or you get a little bored, or there's too many people standing in your way and you can't see the 'art' - annoying!

Luckily, Cinema Alley takes the aggravations of viewing video art within the 'white box' and tosses them out. Instead you get cinema-style seating, under the stars in a chill Chinatown laneway - and it's all free. They'll even sell you great food and refreshing adult beverages beforehand, particularly handy if you've come straight from work.

Since 1996, 4A has been Sydney's little Asian Aussie battler, injecting a bit of contemporary Asian art into the Gem City via their ongoing Haymarket gallery and events like this. This year's Cinema Alley ups the ante on previous outings by not just screening new Asian and Australian video works, but doubling-up via a 2-channel system, kinda like Andy Warhol's 'Chelsea Girls' but without the annoyingly long segment where Nico cuts her fringe.

When it's hot like this, you want to do everything outside: eat, drink cocktails, look at art, and watch movies. Cinema Alley ticks all the above boxes, and makes you feel like a culture vulture whilst celebrating Chinese New Year, instead of just a fireworks-loving drunk.

It's like a chillwave wet dream come true, the lo-fi shoegaze equivalent of an Air / Daft Punk double headline. What makes both Toro Y Moi and Washed Out so exciting is their music's overall vibe is mellow enough to passively relax to, but listen in to either's sonic stew, and underneath the placid exterior the songs are innovative and complex, with layers of stuttering weirdness, decaying pop hooks, and dreamy longing. Toro's new album went more space disco whereas Washed Out got more blissed-out. With Guerre and Future Classic DJs opening this is a perfectly paired meal, entree, main, wine and dessert.

It's not uncommon for a DJ name to contain numbers in place of letters, but even 'John Talabot' is a pseudonym. A master of reinvention, the mysterious Spaniard didn't want people's knowledge of his previous projects to cloud their judgement of his music, allowing fresh ears to hear what sound like the hymns of some blessed sun-worshipping tribe. He's headlining the Young Turks stage at Laneway, on his first visit to Australia. At Adult Disco on Saturday night, he'll have Future Classic DJs, Tornado Wallace and Francis Inferno Orchestra along to hold his hand.

Welcome to the Year of the Dragon! The year you get into Chinese music. Tenzenmen's been on the case for years, but you are probably not tenzenmen. Undergo his tutelage here. Nova Heart is a babe who used to host MTV China. She's like a laidback, more stylish CSS and I'm already obsessed with this song. AV Okubo is pop punk, and its Chineseness makes it endearing. Xiao He is a tripped out goofwalk through a Zen garden. In his own words, "merci, pourquoi".

A barbecue and Bloods is already good, but this party is hosted by Bike Babes so it will be sweet and cycley. It's a fete in a nightclub! Those crazy cats. One-off customised bike helmets will be up for sale, and clothes by Kiss My Button Vintage. But how might one get there??? Bike Babes, the regular riders, will ride (if it's not raining). To march in their number, simply turn up at Taylor Square at 6.50pm with your sweet ride and your bodaciousness (inner/outer both fine).

We're co-presenting this party with I Oh You and we're not going to tell you where it is. Until 24 hours before it starts, that is. The Drums are playing a DJ set. Whose lead singer Jonny Pierce possesses more than a passing resemblance to one William Zabka. Though that's kind of immaterial, you're paying to watch him (and his bandmates) play records, not get you a body bag. Besides, you'll probably be doing a pretty good job of getting yourself in the bag if previous I Oh You parties are anything to go by. They'd much rather go surfing than sweep the leg anyway. Alex and Jordan's knees are already bleeding. They are the Bleeding Knees Club, you see. They're hitting that sweet spot between garage and punk and making you wonder why people bother recording songs longer than three minutes. Last chance to see them before they tour the US and blow up like Tetraodontidae. Special guests Sures, The Holidays (DJ set) and &dimes.

In this age of the iGadget and torrentz, who really needs the humble radio? Well hello Rdio which promises a future so sleek and proficient that vowels are obsolete. It's launching in Australia so now we've all got streaming access to 12 million songs and counting. Das Racist, Canyons, Alpine, Jonti, Rufus, Nantes will be playing plus DJ sets from Twin Shadow and Austra. (!!) Oh and us fiddling with tunes upstairs.

Go to SCA this Friday for the latest instalment of the Laneway Festival. The lineup for this year is rather massive and includes recent Thousands interviewees Total Control and Yuck. Also, we have a music swag to give away. For people who don't buy tickets. But buy tickets you idiots! Check it out: Geoffrey O'Connor, Vanity Is Forever; Toro Y Moi, Underneath The Pine; DZ Deathrays, Brutal Tapes; Washed Out, Within and Without; Cults - Cults. Look at you Mr Pitchfork.

An astral plane exists, to some people, between Heaven and Earth. It is occupied by angels and dead people and Jonathan Richman. The Astral Plane, however, exists in Australia and is populated by two dudes, Daniel Oliver and Damien Horan (of The Villainares), and their most awesome line of printed tees, button ups, denim and swim shorts.

The Astral Plane radiates slow summers and vagabond spirit. They've got a knack for rendering vintage ideas via laid-back street wear and are especially good at hallucinated prints and patterns.

Their latest collection is impressive. Psychedelic palms, wild stallions, water crafts, and the hottest city in the world NYC make printed appearances on tees. Have a look for yourself at these stockists. We particularly like the 'Islands' swim shorts, which are patchworked with all of your favourite parts of summer - palm trees, flowers and Aztec patterns - and have a bonus pocket which is 'handy if you're craving a coconut water?'

We liked them so much that we got you some. To enter, just answer the following question.