Tuesday, December 26, 2006

"fined his band members for missed notes or imperfect shoeshines"


What a man, what a man, what a fucking crazy man. James Brown was one of the most important figures, icons, legends (all those words. he deserves 'em all.) in pop music. Of course, that spills over into hip hop, funk, soul, r & b, et al. And he was muthafuNkin' craz-zay and crazyTOUGH.

Great obit by Jon Pareles says it all (just about).

Last night I mistakenly (let's face it, drunkenly) set my radio alarm to 89.9 instead of 89.3 and I righteously woke up to "Say It Loud — I’m Black and I’m Proud."

What an awesome way for a white girl to get roused outta bed.

Thanks for *EVERYTHING*, Mr. Brown. You put the drama, the sweat, the funk and the stamina in pop music and you will never be forgotten.

Thursday, December 21, 2006

"Sinatra was swinging/ all the drunks, they were singin'"

For some reason The Replacements = snowy, wintery, x-mastime in downtown MPLS, to me...(I think it's the whole "Skyway" thing.) I *needed* to hear Mr. Westerberg and co. while I was walking through the slush tonight. It felt so right.

Before I made my way out in the night, a real life musical event made me take my headphones outta my ears. I heard the most awesome x-mas song I could've possibly heard at that moment, it penetrated through my iPod! A dread-locked busker chick was playing accordion in the skyway...and out came the sounds of "Fairytale of New York," The Pogues' wonderfully, comically, conflicted romance/x-mas tune. So fucking refreshing, cuz I really could live the rest of my life without hearing Vince Gill sing all religiously in public, and all the rest of it, really.

I couldn't wipe the smile off of my face and I threw my money down.

Friday, December 15, 2006

surprise! I love British pop music!

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These two records are meeting my needs and then some. Yesterday, as I was listening to “Space and Time” and thought---Urban Hymns might be the one album I have heard more than any other album….ever. Heavy. My specific memory is flying back to the States from London, when I was 17 years old. I was drifting in and out of sleep as I heard Richard Ashcroft’s passionate, dramatic vocals soar…there are pleas for love and peace of mind… and optimistic visions for the future with his new wife. I remember it being almost haunting, with the eerie, blue-green light light coming in through the windows. The feeling that it's not a tangeible time of day, because your body doesn't know what time it is or where you are...and here are these "timeless melodies." My memories float back to those moments when I hear some songs, still. In the last eight years, I have consistently listened to those songs more than any other.

“Village Green Preservation Society” is one of those Damn Jeremy Albums. He *tried* to get me into it, years ago, (just like the fucking Stone Roses) and I resisted for some dumb reason. I thought the concept of it all seemed too twee, or something. Well, that is total bullshit. It’s incredible. I can’t stop listening to it. The lyrics are brilliant and the music is dated and almost a little timeless (but ahead of its time) simultaneously.

Wednesday, December 13, 2006

a response

Yes, Anonymous, it is a bit of a generalization.

BUT, I am an Anglophile when it comes to pop and rock music from the British Isles and I have been reading Q and Mojo (and Select, Vox, etc.) since I was 12 years old.

They feature lots of lists. ALL THE TIME.

And I think, compared to the States, the Brits *seem* to value music more. It's evident in the passion in the writing and the abundance of music publications. We really don't have that here. Also, as I've written about before, Western European audiences (hell, it could be everywhere BUT the U.S., as far as I know) are just so much more enthusiastic than we are when attending a rock show.

I don't know about Iran or India...

Sorry if I offend!

"like a cat in a bag, waiting to drown..."-- you call that sad?

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yeah...so do I.

I found it especially sad when I found out that Richard Ashcroft wrote "The Drugs Don't Work" about his father's death.

J Mo sent me this. It's fantastic. Again, always leave it to the Brits for their obsession with list-making and their appreciation for music in all aspects of life. (Course the "on behalf of Nokia" kinda threw me...I can hear Alex, "there's only music, so that there's new ringtones...")


Sad songs say so much
December 11, 2006 12:00am


THE Drugs Don't Work by The Verve tops a list of songs which make us sad, according to a scientist.

Dr Harry Witchel, an expert in physiology and music, analysed the physical reactions to music on behalf of Nokia.

Using a shortlist compiled by the Official UK Charts Company, he measured their "tune trigger quotient" measuring heart rate, respiratory response and skin temperature to find the saddest, happiest and most exhilarating tracks.
The happiest songs were measured by contentment judged on levels of sighs per minute (indicating the recall of happy memories) plus low level of boredom.
Sad tracks were indicated by decreased heart rate and exhilarating tunes by increase in breaths per minute.

The happiest song was LDN by Lily Allen, followed by Abba's Dancing Queen and REM's Shiny Happy People.
Kylie Minogue's Spinning Around also rates as one of the happiest songs.
Most exhilarating were Blur's Song 2, Love Machine by Girls Aloud and Somebody Told Me by Killers.
The Verve beat Robbie Williams's Angels for the title of saddest song, with Elton John's Sorry Seems To Be The Hardest Word coming third.

"Music is undeniably powerful at triggering different emotional states," Witchel said. "Changes in tempo and frequencies induce profoundly different emotional states.
"A slow tempo song like the Verve's The Drugs Don't Work slows down the heart compared to most of the other songs and compared to white noise - in other words, it works like the emotional state of sadness.

"Also, I have to say there were many powerful and exhilarating songs we tested, and I was surprised that Blur's Song 2 could be such a clear winner among our participants."


The happiest 10 songs were:
1. Lily Allen - LDN
2. Abba - Dancing Queen
3. REM - Shiny Happy People
4. B52s - Love Shack
5. The Beatles - She Loves You
6. Beyonce - Crazy In Love
7. Britney Spears - Baby One More Time
8. Bill Medley and Jennifer Warnes - I've Had The Time Of My Life
9. The Spice Girls - Spice Up Your Life
10. Kylie Minogue - Spinning Around

The saddest 10 songs were:
1. The Verve - The Drugs Don't Work
2. Robbie Williams - Angels
3. Elton John - Sorry Seems To Be The Hardest Word
4. Whitney Houston - I Will Always Love You
5. Sinead O'Connor - Nothing Compares 2 U
6. Will Young - Leave Right Now
7. Elvis Presley - Are You Lonesome Tonight?
8. Christina Aguilera - Beautiful
9. James Blunt - Goodbye My Lover
10. Radiohead - Fake Plastic Trees

The most exhilarating 10 songs were:
1. Blur - Song 2
2. Girls Aloud - Love Machine
3. Killers - Somebody Told Me
4. Prodigy - Firestarter
5. Razorlight - Rip It Up
6. Rolling Stones - Start Me Up
7. Gnarls Barkley - Crazy
8. U2 - Beautiful Day
9. Oasis - Roll With It
10. Take That - Relight My Fire

Monday, December 11, 2006

The Purple One


Prince is playing the SuperBowl.

Of course he is.

He is occupying a very large region of my brain, right now and will be for at least a week more.

I'll tell you why...later....

Thursday, December 07, 2006

that stuffy time of year...award nominations!

The Grammy noms were announced today.

I got all giddy when I saw my lads made it--in the States, in the usually stuffy, out-of-touch world of the Grammys.

Not surprisingly, the Grammys chose safe, mostly bo-rrrring choices, as per usual. That abhorrent James Blunt song is fucking all over the noms. Yuck. And, why, why, why:
Best Pop Performance By A Duo Or Group With Vocal :My Humps; The Black Eyed Peas

I truly feel that that song just might be the worst pop song of all time.

This is a fun race, though:

Best Female Pop Vocal Performance
(For a solo vocal performance. Singles or Tracks only.)
Ain't No Other Man
Christina Aguilera
FUCK YES.
Unwritten
Natasha Bedingfield
You Can Close Your Eyes
Sheryl Crow
Stupid Girls
Pink
Black Horse And The Cherry Tree
KT Tunstall


If Pink or KT won, I'd be shocked, but extremely happy to see either of them get it. Xtina better nail it, though.

The Best Surprises:

The Arctic Monkeys got nommed for Best Rock Instrumental Performance with thieir non-LP track, “Chun Li's Flying Bird Kick.” WHAT THE FUCK? That is too awesome.

Neil Young got several! “Living With War” got him a nom for Best Rock Album and
“Lookin' For A Leader" got nominated for Best Rock Song (the Killers also made it with their powerhouse of a pop song, “When You Were Young”).


and, holy shit do I want to see my lads take Best Alternative Music Album:

Whatever People Say I Am, That's What I'm Not
Arctic Monkeys
At War With The Mystics
The Flaming Lips
St. Elsewhere
Gnarls Barkley
Show Your Bones
Yeah Yeah Yeahs
The Eraser
Thom Yorke

Monday, December 04, 2006

"kiss the fucking sky"

Fitzy taped a fantastic Oasis show from last year, in the States (so the kids were not as "mad fer it" as the Brits, claro) and we watched it with J Mo and Will this weekend. It was quite a hoot to see them watch the Original Lads at it, pumping out their songs. Liam, in his stupid hat and shorts and Noel and His Hair. Will couldn't really get over it. Said it looked like an old timey leather NFL helmet. So true. (But, hey, rocks stars got to have the right hair--just ask 'em, they'll explain why.)

I have never considered Oasis a good live band. I've seen them 3 times and I think they are a studio band. Really. Liam is just an ape. And Noel is a rock gawd, sure, but he's really so very-un-rock star. They take great pains to ignore each other on stage, which is silly and frustrating ("They're babies!" says Fitzy. True, say I.) Not that Noel needs to do the Windmill or set his guitar on fire or something to be righteous in the flesh...but...he just doesn't have that star quality. He just writes perfect rock songs and has a wonderful guitar talent that drives that Oasis sound (Tom Petty-like-solos, if you ask J Mo--she totally has a point).

In Manchestah, my man just played (*sigh*) these songs...all by himself. whew. I fully support the idea of Noel going solo...by the by...

(It's Good) To Be Free
Talk Tonight *he dedicated this one to Andy, the ex-Arctic Monkey! huh*
Fade Away
Cast No Shadow
The Importance Of Being Idle
Listen Up
Half The World Away
Wonderwall
Whatever
Slide Away
Strawberry Fields Forever
Don't Look Back In Anger
Married With Children



Ah--and: my most recent fave Noel quote, talking about his music, of course:
"[music that will]make you feel like you're 18, you've got a new jacket on and you're going out to kiss the fucking sky."

or, as I might say...Oasis is the kind of shit you put on *immediately* after work on a Friday evening.

Friday, December 01, 2006

yet ANOTHER reason not to smoke

Yep, cigarette smoke is radioactive.

Fucking hell.

To all my friends and loved ones who have quit (congratulations! you should be very proud of yourself!) and to those that are thinking about quitting...

December 1, 2006
Op-Ed Contributor

Puffing on Polonium

By ROBERT N. PROCTOR
Stanford, Calif.


WHEN the former K.G.B. agent Alexander V. Litvinenko was found to have been poisoned by radioactive polonium 210 last week, there was one group that must have been particularly horrified: the tobacco industry.
The industry has been aware at least since the 1960s that cigarettes contain significant levels of polonium. Exactly how it gets into tobacco is not entirely understood, but uranium “daughter products” naturally present in soils seem to be selectively absorbed by the tobacco plant, where they decay into radioactive polonium. High-phosphate fertilizers may worsen the problem, since uranium tends to associate with phosphates. In 1975, Philip Morris scientists wondered whether the secret to tobacco growers’ longevity in the Caucasus might be that farmers there avoided phosphate fertilizers.


How much polonium is in tobacco? In 1968, the American Tobacco Company began a secret research effort to find out. Using precision analytic techniques, the researchers found that smokers inhale an average of about .04 picocuries of polonium 210 per cigarette. The company also found, no doubt to its dismay, that the filters being considered to help trap the isotope were not terribly effective. (Disclosure: I’ve served as a witness in litigation against the tobacco industry.)


A fraction of a trillionth of a curie (a unit of radiation named for polonium’s discoverers, Marie and Pierre Curie) may not sound like much, but remember that we’re talking about a powerful radionuclide disgorging alpha particles — the most dangerous kind when it comes to lung cancer — at a much higher rate even than the plutonium used in the bomb dropped on Nagasaki. Polonium 210 has a half life of about 138 days, making it thousands of times more radioactive than the nuclear fuels used in early atomic bombs.


We should also recall that people smoke a lot of cigarettes — about 5.7 trillion worldwide every year, enough to make a continuous chain from the earth to the sun and back, with enough left over for a few side-trips to Mars. If .04 picocuries of polonium are inhaled with every cigarette, about a quarter of a curie of one of the world’s most radioactive poisons is inhaled along with the tar, nicotine and cyanide of all the world’s cigarettes smoked each year. Pack-and-a-half smokers are dosed to the tune of about 300 chest X-rays.


Is it therefore really correct to say, as Britain’s Health Protection Agency did this week, that the risk of having been exposed to this substance remains low? That statement might be true for whatever particular supplies were used to poison Mr. Litvinenko, but consider also this: London’s smokers (and those Londoners exposed to secondhand smoke), taken as a group, probably inhale more polonium 210 on any given day than the former spy ingested with his sushi.


No one knows how many people may be dying from the polonium part of tobacco. There are hundreds of toxic chemicals in cigarette smoke, and it’s hard to sort out how much one contributes compared to another — and interactive effects can be diabolical.

In a sense, it doesn’t really matter. Taking one toxin out usually means increasing another — one reason “lights” don’t appear to be much safer. What few experts will dispute is the magnitude of the hazard: the World Health Organization estimates that 10 million people will be dying annually from cigarettes by the year 2020 — a third of these in China. Cigarettes, which claimed about 100 million lives in the 20th century, could claim close to a billion in the present century.


The tobacco industry of course doesn’t like to have attention drawn to the more exotic poisons in tobacco smoke. Arsenic, cyanide and nicotine, bad enough. But radiation? As more people learn more about the secrets hidden in the golden leaf, it may become harder for the industry to align itself with candy and coffee — and harder to maintain, as we often hear in litigation, that the dangers of tobacco have long been “common knowledge.” I suspect that even some of our more enlightened smokers will be surprised to learn that cigarette smoke is radioactive, and that these odd fears spilling from a poisoned K.G.B. man may be molehills compared with our really big cancer mountains.


Robert N. Proctor is a professor of the history of science at Stanford University.

Thursday, November 30, 2006

tv


Scrubs is the shit.

I think it's consistently laugh-out-loud funny and eccentric and unpredictable (as much as tv can be) and chaotic (but tight) and touching-in-a-non-schmaltzy-way (as much as tv can be). It's totally one of the most original television comedies that's ever aired.

Word.

"The Pigeons Of Shit Metal"

Wow! It *does* sound like Axl is "out of his fucking mind"...who knew!?

the best bit...

He had a couple of fans thrown out for pissing him off. Then when he called us The Pigeons Of Shit Metal, Tommy Stinson, their bass player took his bass off and goes: 'Fuck you, that's it'. And then he threw his bass down. But then Axl picked up his bass and fucking threw it at him dude. It was a fucking circus up there."

-Jesse "The Devil" Hughes

Tuesday, November 28, 2006

praise, praise, praise Jeremy and Soul Seek



for it reunited me with the Exploding Hearts once again.

And this time I own the record!

That and several other albums I've waited for years to plunder from J Dog.

The other newly acquireds, from Jeremy, via the Soul machine:

Love~ the debut record and Forever Changes
Kinks~The Village Green Preservation Society (finally!), Kinda Kinks and one other...
TV on The Radio~ Return to Cookie Mountain
My Bloody Valentine~ Loveless

some LIVE Stone Roses, Streets, The Nice Boys and (J's latest fave) Larrikin Love.

and....(inexplicably) the new, yet to be released BLOC PARTY record: A Weekend in the City (NME just had a fantastic write-up about this group of tunes. Apparently they're about sex, anxiety, bombs and war. And, it's not coming out officially till May or some shit. Yes.)

(((sigh)))

I feel tingles all over. Illegal tingles.

And, people, this is only the beginning (J has copious amounts of amazing, obscure music that I wouldn't be getting anywhere else)! I feel like an adolescent who just discovered Napster...iyiyiyi!

Monday, November 27, 2006

remember when Smithers was black?

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"Black Smithers" was on the Simpsons tonight.
It was his debut!
check it (from Wiki, Wiki):

In his first appearance, in the episode "Homer's Odyssey", Smithers was mistakenly made African-American by the production team in Korea. The studios have claimed that Smithers was intended to be yellow, and that his first appearance should be considered suntanned.
huh. I always (mistakenly) assumed they chose to reconsider Smithers' character: gay, black, subservient and slightly evil. Thinking it might be a bit much and just decided to strike one of the four down...

PS This early episode was really unsatisfying. The crude animation also distracted me more than it used to. I feel spoiled.

explica, por favor

OK--so, the reason that silly Pepsi ad never aired was because Madonna had released her video for the song "Like A Prayer."

which went a lil' sumpin like dis: (the Catholic church wasn't too happy bout it, if you remember, so Big Pepsi had to pull their "wholesome" ad. heh. M still got all the dough, though. that and LOADS of pub... as per usual.)


Sunday, November 26, 2006

"A Taste of America"-- minus the burning crosses and sex with a saint

The Pepsi commercial that never aired, courtesy of Madge's myspace. (!)


1989 Pepsi Commercial - Previously Unseen

Add to My Profile | More Videos

Did people actually watch the Lady M on regular tee vee on Wednesday night? I think they did.

"What a production," they say.

"I was there," I say.

and I still don't believe I really was.

I think I kinda get it now



Phish is my Tori Amos.

(think of it phrased as an SAT question)

Is it a redhead thing? No. It's a Cult Thing.

I don't think I can really say anymore.

If I did, I'd have to kill you.


Tuesday, November 21, 2006

R.I.P., Robert Altman

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NY Times obit, here.

My fave movie of his is Vincent and Theo, but I was always astounded at each of his films I saw...that controlled chaos, dramatic realism...his ballsy way of letting dialogue slip away or be purposefully trampled...

There are *many* films of his I have wanted to see for years. Infamously (in my apartment, anyway), my last film I ever got from Netflix was "Short Cuts." I never watched it (it's dauntingly 187 minutes long). This remained in my apartment, by the DVD player for OVER three months. I finally bit the bullet, sent it back and cancelled my subscription to the Great DVD Rental Arrangement.

The shame, the shame.

"they turn into WILD ANIMALS!"

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I became a different kind of zombie last night. The Classic TV Zombie. To my credit, it was only for a couple of hours, while I did my wash…but, still.

These are the things I stumbled across in the Big Bad World of Cable TV:

•Al Pacino on Inside the Actor’s Studio (sweet Jesus, do I love and miss that show). He was great, actually seems very intelligent and well-read, and not *that* pretentious. And, y’know, Al Pacino has a bloody *right* to be pretentious. A highlight (this one’s for JMo): Ol’ Man Lipton says that Kevin Spacey told him the actors “had a name” for the film “Glengarry Glen Ross” on the set. Lipton wants Pacino to say it, but Pacino is clueless and says “they left me out of everything. What did they call it?” Lipton: “Death of a Fucking Salesman.” I laughed out loud. And, I dug his answers to the ol Bernard Pivot questionnaire. My fave: “What turns you on?” Pacino, with a mild laugh: “Everything.”


•Flipping channels and found a really, really early (I think) “Growing Pains.” And I had never seen the show the whole way through in my life (I still haven’t, didn’t see more than five minutes of this one). The entire show, it seems, was about the Born Again Christian child actor who plays the son, trying to score Springsteen tickets. I shit you not. Best line of the whole damn five minutes comes from a friend of the son’s (I had to switch it after this, cuz nothing could top it): “Aw, man! Have you ever seen a girl after a Bruce Springsteen concert? They turn into *WILD ANIMALS*!!”

•Then this saddened and disturbed me so, I had to turn that contraption off, once and for all! It was a Dell commercial, I think…and the unmistakable music began…one of my favorite songs of the last year. It’s “You’re Gonna Miss Me,” by the 13th Floor Elevators and it originally came out in 1966. I fucking LOVE it. I own it from Nuggets (it was on the first one, in 1977). And it always makes me think of the flick, “High Fidelity” --it’s the first song you hear as you watch the vinyl spin and it’s muted, and muddled (exactly how a record sounds when the top is flipped up) and then those righteous screams kick in and it sounds dangerous and angry. It's one of those perfect fuck-you, break-up anthems, really what the first part of that movie is all about. Now, it’s on a fucking commercial and it just seems really, really wrong. It’s too punk, too screechy, too weird, too GREAT to be used to hawk computers…..right? Augh. I just can’t deal with using “dangerous” music for consumerism. Can’t deal, I tell you… I feel like a grumpy ol’ curmudgeon. Grrr.

Check out their sordid history here. Including this fact, I gotta share: “The band's name is a play on the superstitions that lead to many tall buildings not having a 13th floor, and the fact that the letter "M" (for marijuana) is the thirteenth letter of the alphabet. Tommy Hall's wife, Clementine is credited with helping to think up the name.”

Thursday, November 16, 2006

making my day


Diablo Cody helped make my day...pinker (better and brighter) with her post from the 14th. Well, that and the crazy short day I had to work (3.5 hours! but, tomorrow I pay for it, cuz I work for 11 hours...boo-urns). I got to spend rare, precious time with Fitzy, too--before and after work. It felt like we were a "normal" couple today! In that way that peeps get to see their lovahs before and after work on a regular basis, whereas our work schedules usually do not permit such luxuries.

I might not get a chance to write for a while, and that bums me out a bit. I am going to be house/doggie-sitting for a co-worker (actually a really fun gig) for the next week and there's no computer access (gasp!) I am hoping this might help me be a better person...like, not waste so much time proving old foggies' theories (even Noel Gallagher's) about the "iPod/MySpace Generation." I guess I have to face the facts and realize that I am one of those computer-eyed and eared zombies of this tech era.

Gulp.

Fuck it. Virtual community is better than no community at all. And what the fuck is wrong with daily altering my mood for the better with music in my ears as I journey to work and home and around my 'hood?

I shall not be ashamed! I shall shake my knees and my ass in public to the sounds of "The Information," by my fair-haired hero, Beck. Indeed, I have. And I will continue to do so. Even if that "cuts me off" from the immediate world around me. Frankly, I don't wanna hear what Mr. Drunk-at-seven-in-the-AM is shouting at me on Nicollet Mall. I'd really rather hear Alex Turner tell me about his weekend. And then mentally prepare for or reminisce about my own two days of freedom I get once every 5 days...

also: the picture above made me smile back at my computer screen, fool-like. (I just love the grin and that tatt peeking out from her shoulder... too hottt.)

I just felt a lil' sheepish at the fact that this is not the first time I put a picture up of Ms. Cody on my blog. Oh well. At least you can't see her tits this time.

Wednesday, November 15, 2006

I wanna be a go-go dancer when I grow up

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Last night’s New York Dolls’ show did *not* disappoint. And, holy hell, does Lil’ Steven ever know how to throw a kick-ass rock and roll party. (I think the thing I envy most about Bruce Springsteen is that he has had Steven as a best friend since he was 16 years old). He knows that the secret ingredient to ultimate kick-assedness is having go-go dancers bring their sexy brand of enthusiasm to the stage while garage bands are churning out their riffs. After all, these are the true cheerleaders for music, man! (forget what they told you in Almost Famous about groupies, OK?) It’s all about the immediate. —Dancing to the magic...whilst the musicians are creating it on stage with the women who embody what it is all about... After all, it’s inevitably the answer so much of the time…to that question: why did you start a band?

*To get girls, man*

What better way to prove that fact, than to have that desire and ambition in the form of real live , flesh and blood, dancing girls! All that joy and inspiration---the Muse—right there, tantalizing the crowd and the dudes in the band. It makes me feel proud to be a woman, and I love the act of appreciation.

Last night, I thought of that great, smirking Mick Jagger quote....how he feels like a highly paid stripper from night to night. David Johansen really has that rock and roll look down: in “regular life” he would simply be freakish. But, on stage, it all makes sense. With those thighs the size of a woman’s arm, protruding ribs, and ginormous head, showcasing his uber-exaggerated Jagger-like features (smaller lips, but bigger mouth, somehow) he gyrates and swivels those microscopic hips is really what Rock front men are all about. There was not an ounce of the pathetic in last night’s performance (even if there were only two original members on stage) it was totally invigorating and tight and powerful. Every song was vital and made me think of what it would be like to see those fuckers debut that *Sound* on stage at CBGB or Max’s Kansas City (last night, the name of that venue was proudly displayed above the ass of guitarist, Sylvain Sylvainon, on a leather weight-lifting belt). I thought about everyone they must have inspired: those “fringe” rockers, the dudes that liked to wear lipstick, and the musicians who wanted to kill Arena Rock.

I couldn’t take the grin off of my face for the entire show. Much like Johansen’s grotesque, bemused, and totally genuine smile that spread across his face—like he was maybe surprised (?) to see the enthused fans get into the set like it was 1973. The crowd was predominantly comprised of aging Punk Rock Nerd Boys who never really grew up. Thrusting their middle fingers in the air for the end of the Supersuckers’ brilliant, rowdy set (THEY had the go-go ladies on stage, the Dolls did not), they were having a fucking blast. And, I wondered if they really got out much anymore… But, really, I kept thinking about how age is completely meaningless in rock. All three times that I’ve seen the Rolling Stones and marveled that they had more raw energy than any “young” band I have ever seen.

Last night, I felt the same way—these guys are totally in it still. I felt optimistic about it all…how my life might play out… Yet another existential inner monologue taking place under the roof of First Ave. Exactly how it should be.

Monday, November 13, 2006

in 1973, I was negative 8

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that's the last time the New York Dolls were in MPLS (also the year their first record came out). I will be seeing them, as Lil' Steven's Underground Garage presents them at First Ave TOMORROW NIGHT, people.

whew. it's a little exciting. I must say...

check out what my man Jim had to say (fuck. I have been re-watching Da Ali G show. and you can tell...)

Tuesday 14
New York Dolls

Get out the leather and lipstick, garageland ladies and lads: David Johansen's glam-pioneers return to the Twin Cities for the first time since their debut at Teenland at the Minnesota State Fair in 1973. You can be forgiven if your Dolls delirium is tempered by the loss of the dead boys (Johnny Thunders, Jerry Nolan, Arthur "Killer" Kane, subject of last year's wonderful doc New York Doll
), or the survivors' samey new studio album One Day It Will Please Us To Remember Even This.

But know that David Jo is still alive and kicking and doing the American Mick Jagger thing better than most, and these reunion shows have been garnering good reviews. Plus, as Halloween proves, everybody loves a guy dressed in drag -- add drums and guitars and songs as sweaty-good as "Personality Crisis," "Who Are The Mystery Girls?," "Trash," and "Frankenstein," and, well, everybody must get laid tonight. With the Supersuckers, the Chesterfield Kings, and more. Presented by Little Steven's Underground Garage. 8 p.m.; $20; 700 N. First Avenue, Mpls.: 612-338-8388.—Jim Walsh

Friday, November 10, 2006

"Who's Rumsfeld?"

This is...amazing...and disturbing. And (kinda!) puts a spin on the whole Kerry's botched joke fiasco.

Marines Get the News From an Iraqi Host: Rumsfeld's Out. "Who's Rumsfeld? "

Thursday, November 09, 2006

choice words of Rummy

I love the BBC. And, wow...I know the whole Orwell thing might be cliché....but, seriously! This is the fucking *definition* of "doublespeak" in every way.

check it:


Rumsfeld in his own words

Following a poor Republican result in the US mid-term elections, US President George W Bush has announced that Defence Secretary Donald Rumsfeld is to step down.
Mr Rumsfeld, one of the longest-serving defence secretaries, is known for his rhetoric. Here are a selection of quotes from his six years under George W Bush.
DECEMBER 2004
As you know, you go to war with the army you have, not the army you might want or wish to have at a later time.
2004
It seems to me that it's up to all of us to try to tell the truth, to say what we know, to say what we don't know, and recognise that we're dealing with people that are perfectly willing to, to lie to the world to attempt to further their case and to the extent people lie of, ultimately they are caught lying and they lose their credibility and one would think it wouldn't take very long for that to happen dealing with people like this.
MARCH 2003
We know where they [Iraq's WMD] are. They're in the area around Tikrit and Baghdad and east, west, south, and north somewhat.
FEBRUARY 2003
And it is not knowable if force will be used [in Iraq], but if it is to be used, it is not knowable how long that conflict would last. It could last, you know, six days, six weeks. I doubt six months.
OCTOBER 2002
[Osama Bin Laden is] either alive and well or alive and not too well or not alive.
SEPTEMBER 2002
No terrorist state poses a greater or more immediate threat to the security of our people and the stability of the world than the regime of Saddam Hussein in Iraq.
FEBRUARY 2002
Reports that say that something hasn't happened are always interesting to me, because as we know, there are known knowns; there are things we know we know. We also know there are known unknowns; that is to say we know there are some things we do not know. But there are also unknown unknowns - the ones we don't know we don't know.
MAY 2001
Once in a while, I'm standing here, doing something. And I think: 'What in the world am I doing here?' It's a big surprise.

Wednesday, November 08, 2006

Maureen Dowd gets to interview her heartthrobs

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If you can read one thing outta Rolling Stone magazine these days, please check out the Colbert/Stewart interview, brilliantly put together by Miss Dynamite Dowd. My FAVE..........my heroine.

Stewart comes across as kind of a jerk. A lovable jerk, that is. He has a bit about how he thinks Bush is *NOT* dumb...just "fiercely competitive, uncurious about the world and self-absorbed," apparently. It's kind of strange, but you can see what he means.

Colbert is as *real* and complex as you'd hope. (Dude had 11 siblings growing up and lost two of his bros and his father when he was 10.) Reading about his encounter with O'Reilly was a fuckin' *trip.* (Colbert actually admires the guy, in a way...)

My favorite bit, Colbert quotes one of his writers on the subject of the comedian's historic appearance at the White House Correspondent's Dinner : [to Colbert] "You threw a bottle of grape soda that happened to have a lit rag in the neck, and the the room was soaked with gasoline."

Word.

And after Dowd wrote how the two set up each other's punchlines, finish each other's sentences and generally seem to share a brain...she asks them, "But wouldn't, say, a President Obama be harder to make fun of than these guys [Cheney, Bush, et. al.]?"

STEWART: Are you kidding?
Colbert and Stewart in unison: "His dad was a goat-herder!"

"'Do they actually come from fucking Mars?'"

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(this is for Elizabeth)

Noel Gallagher was simply *made* to be the king of snide, rock'n'roll sound bites (aka rock journalism's wet dream).

The latest, makes me think of both Neil Young and Bob Dylan, but of course, Noel does it his way...from NME:

Noel Gallagher - 'The fantasy's gone out of making music'
The Oasis guitarist believes 'kids have it too good'


Oasis mainman Noel Gallagher says the "fantasy" has gone out of making music - because of advances in technology.

Speaking exclusively in this week's NME, the star bemoans the iPod and DVD generation because of their insistence on wanting more and more information about how records are made.

He said: "This generation of kids just rely on the technology - that's what they want. These days you can see fucking Johnny Borrell in his pants going through the bass parts, and that just strips away the magic for me."

He added: "Everyone just wants more and more information. All the fantasy's gone out of music, 'cos everything is too fucking real. Every album comes with a DVD with some cunt going, 'Yeah well, we tried the drums over there, but...' Give a shit, man! It makes people seem too human, whereas I was brought up on Marc Bolan and David Bowie, and it was like, 'Do they actually come from fucking Mars?'"

Monday, November 06, 2006

Wednesday, November 01, 2006

triste, but there is hope

Watching Charlie Rose...Main story is Kerry's "botched joke." Charlie is interviewing DNC Chair, Howard Dean and my eyes just started to get wet.

I was totally a Dean zealot for months when he was actually a presidential hopeful. I thought he was one of the most brilliant, well-spoken, and good humored politician I had ever known.

Then the most re-dick thing ever happened. You know, he got "too excited" and his voice sounded "scary" and "shrill" and everyone turned on him and it was crushing.

And then we lost the election.

And you know the rest.

Seeing him with Mr. Rose tonight just made me feel that crushed feeling in my stomach again, but Mr. Dean's rosy cheeks and quirky/stiff smile were beaming...optimistic. I felt better...

Second half of Charlie Rose: David Kuo interview. What a sweet, mild, articulate man. (the poor guy has a brain tumor, Charlie brings it up right away) He grew up thinking that main purpose of politics was to "serve the poor" (his political ideal was Bobby Kennedy) ...but he knocked up a chick in college, she had an abortion and he ended up working for the Religious Right.

[shudder]

When he first met Dubya, they spent hours talking about "economic, racial and social justice."

Wow. Yep. Kuo was inspired and thought that Bush's faith and politics were truly "compassionate."

But then he sees Bush, up close, as "deputy director of the White House Office of Faith-Based and Community Initiatives" and sees him do nothing.

So, he writes this book, "Tempting Faith," simply one of the most fascinating pieces of evidence to show those masses of religious and Bush-supporting folks (yes. I just wrote folks.)and ask them what they think Bush has done for them.

I think it's the biggest no-brainer of all time. (Yep, he *used* that whole compassionate conservative bullshit to get elected, cuz he knew how he could play the peeps)BUT, I still think Kuo is brave and it really has a chance to help the DFL for the mid-term elections.

Just more of that hope thing....

Tuesday, October 31, 2006

"I don't have to sell my soul...."

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I finally grew up and bought a real alarm clock (I realized that I had never bought a new one for myself. Ever.) And this is a fancy one! With a CD player, an outlet for my iPod (!?) and radio, claro.

So, this morning I awoke to the slow, sexy, ominous intro/build-up of “I Wanna Be Adored,” the first track off the Stone Roses’ debut. Damn, that is the fucking *way* to wake up! I have been in a spectacular mood all day and I think it has everything to do with waking up to Brit Pop.

Well, that and the last thing I witnessed last night: Beck and BORAT! on Letterman!? Did anyone else see this? Luckily, I have a phenomenal boyfriend who let me in on this last night and now that I actually have tee vee, I could put that shit on! We were kinda like middle schoolers, cuz we both watched it while we remained on the phone with each other. Awww. hehe. And, due to the fact that channel 4 comes in the shittiest and snowiest on my TV, I only knew Mr. Sacha Baron Cohen was shaking his ass next to Beck, because Fitzy exclaimed “Borat!” when he saw it on his finely-tuned cable-receiving television. Mr. Cohen is sure pro-mo-ing the hell outta his movie. I sure hope America “gets it”….y’know….the fact that he (a religious Jew, who wrote his thesis on Civil Rights) is actually lampooning (and showing disgust for)ignorance, racism and misogyny and not endorsing it.

rock and roll is not about ceremonies

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right?

So, why do I still care about the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame inductions every year?

They were named today and R.E.M. (my first show I ever saw without my dad! I was 13)Patti Smith and the Stooges are the toppers. That shit excites me. You just know it's gonna be a big sloppy love fest when Mike Stipe and Patti get together. He is so obsessed with her...

I think I can't get over how awesome it is to see the R & R Elite stroke each other and jam together. Of course, I first had the notion that it wasn't so cool (I thought it was like the Oscars for rock when I was really young) when Neil Young said how disgusted he was that it was televised (it used to not be, and he felt that it was more pure and more about jamming and getting to honor and play with each other) I thought that was gospel.

BUT, in 2005 you had him inducting the Pretenders, and playing with them and it was bloody magical. Check out what he said here.

And, what could be more thrilling than (for freaks like me) Bruce Springsteen inducting U2 in '05? He, of course, was returning the favor. Bono did it for Bruce in one of the most touching, clever, Irish-wit-filled masterpieces I could ever hope for, articulating love for Bruce... (They love getting Bono. He did a helluva number for Bob Marley, too).
I gotta post it here...(can't help myself) The way Bono...*preaches* it (yes, that is for you, Jim, you Irish, catholic muthafucka) is just stunning to me, still. He really gets it (he's so enamored with America and Bruce's vision of it) and his words are brilliantly eloquent. His delivery, all tough and pointed with that lyrical, Irish lilt is killer, too. (so, imagine that when you read it, or YouTube it. heh.)

(this is, in part, for Phil--he is getting into the Bruce and this is a great overview: as grand and expressive as his songs can be)

March 15, 1999
Bono's Speech at the 1999 Hall Of Fame Induction
Ceremony

Bruce is a very unusual rock star, really, isn't he? I mean, he hasn't done the things most rock stars do. He got rich and famous, but never embarrassed himself with all that success, did he? No drug busts, no blood changes in Switzerland. Even more remarkable, no golfing! No bad hair period, even in the '80s. No wearing of dresses in videos. No embarrassing movie roles, no pet snakes, no monkeys. No exhibitions of his own paintings. No public brawling or setting himself on fire on the weekend. Rock stars are supposed to make soap operas of their lives, aren't they? If they don't kill themselves first. Well, you can't be a big legend and not be dysfunctional. It's not allowed. You should at least have lost your looks. Everyone else has. Did you see them? (Points toward backstage area) It's like Madame Toussaud's back there.

Then there's Bruce Springsteen. (cheers) Okay - Ohhh!!! Handsome, handsome mother with those brooding brown eyes, eyes that could see through America. And a catastrophe of great songs, if you were another songwriter. Bruce has played every bar in the U.S.A., and every stadium. Credibility -- you couldn't have more, unless you were dead. But Bruce Springsteen, you always knew, was not gonna die stupid. He didn't buy the mythology that screwed so many people. Instead he created an alternative mythology, one where ordinary lives became extraordinary and heroic. Bruce Springsteen, you were familiar to us. But it's not an easy familiarity, is it? Even his band seems to stand taller when he walks in the room. It's complex. He's America's writer, and critic. It's like in 'Badlands,' he's Martin Sheen and Terrence Malick. To be so accessible and so private ... there's a rubric. But then again, he is an Irish-Italian, with a Jewish-sounding name. What more do you want?!? Add one big African sax player,and no one in this room is gonna fuck with you!

In 1974, I was 14. Even I knew the '60s were over. It was the era of soft-rock and fusion. The Beatles was gone, Elvis was in Vegas. What was goin' on? Nothin' was goin' on. Bruce Springsteen was comin' on, saving music from the phonies, saving lyrics from the folkies, saving leather jackets from the Fonz. (Sings) 'Now the greasers, they tramp the streets and get busted for sleeping on the beaches all night, and them boys in their high heels, ah Sandy, their skins are so white. Oh Sandy, love me tonight, and I promise I'll love you forever.'

In Dublin, Ireland, I knew what he was talking about. Here was a dude who carried himself like Brando, and Dylan, and Elvis. If John Steinbeck could sing, if Van Morrison could ride a Harley-Davidson .... It was something new, too. He was the first whiff of Scorsese, the first hint of Patti Smith, Elvis Costello and the Clash. He was the end of long hair, brown rice and bell bottoms. He was the end of the 20-minute drum solo. It was good night, Haight- Ashbury; hello, Asbury Park.
(cheers) C'mon!

America was staggering when Springsteen appeared. The president just resigned in disgrace, the U.S. had lost its first war. There was going to be no more oil in the ground. The days of cruising and big cars were supposed to be over. But Bruce Springsteen's vision was bigger than a Honda, it was bigger than a Subaru. Bruce made you believe that dreams were still out there, but after loss and defeat, they had to be braver, not just bigger. He was singing 'Now you're scared and you're thinking that maybe we ain't that young anymore,' because it took guts to be romantic now. Knowing you could lose didn't mean you still didn't take the ride. In fact, it made taking the ride all the more important.

Here was a new vision, and a new community. More than a community, because every great rock group is kind of like starting a religion. And Bruce surrounded himself with fellow believers. The E Street -- it wasn't just a great rock group, or a street gang. It was a brotherhood. Zealots like Steve Van Zandt, the bishop Clarence Clemons, the holy Roy Bittan, crusaders Danny Federici, Max Weinberg, Garry Tallent, and later, Nils Lofgren. And Jon Landau, Jon Landau, Jon Landau, Jon Landau, Jon Landau. What do you call a man who makes his best friend his manager, his producer, his confessor? You call him the Boss. And Springsteen didn't just marry a gorgeous, red-headed woman from the Jersey Shore. She could sing, she could write, and she could tell the Boss off. That's Patty right there. (points toward crowd)



For me and the rest of the U2-ers, it wasn't just the way he described the world. It was the way he negotiated it. It was a map, a book of instructions on how to be in the business but not of it. Generous is a word you could use to describe the way he treated us. Decency is another. But these words can box you in. I remember when Bruce was headlining Amnesty International's tour for prisoners of conscience, I remember thinking 'Wow, if ever there was a prisoner of conscience, it's Bruce Springsteen.' Integrity can be a yoke, a pain...when your songs are taking you to a part of town where people don't expect to see you.


At some point I remember riding in an elevator with gentleman Bruce, where he just stared straight ahead of himself, and completely ignored me. I was crushed. Only when he walked into the doors as they were opening, did I realize the impossible was happening. My God, Bruce Springsteen, the Buddha of my youth, is plastered!
Drunk as a skunk! Is this a farce? I have to go back to the book of instructions, scratch the bit out about how you held yourself in public. By the way, that was a great relief.

Something was going on, though. As a fan I could see that my hero was beginning to rebel against his own public image. Things got even more interesting on 'Tunnel of Love,' when he started to deface it. A remarkable bunch of tunes, where our leader starts having a go at himself, and the hypocrisy of his own heart, before anyone else could. But the tabloids could never break news on Bruce Springsteen. Because his fans -- he had already told us everything in the songs. We knew he was spinning. We could feel him free-falling. But it wasn't in chaos or entropy. It was in love.


They call him the Boss. Well that's a bunch of crap. He's not the boss. He works FOR us. More than a boss, he's the owner, because more than anyone else, Bruce Springsteen owns America's heart.I'm proud to introduce to you Bruce Springsteen, member of the E Street Band. Come on!

Sunday, October 29, 2006

One of the many things I miss about college...

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...is reading all those wonderful books.

Kate Silver (who I started reading at the U, and I just still love her written word and intellectuality...)was kind enough to wonder what my answers would be to the following book questions...

One book I've read more than once

This is a sad question, because I have read too many books more than once and not NEARLY enough books just the once (ones that I really want to read and know I SHOULD read). So, the long list would include: Matilda, Roald Dahl (I re-read and re-read this one an absurd amount of time when I was a wee lass); Catcher in the Rye, J.D. Salinger; Huckleberry Fin, Mark Twain...more.........

One book I would want on a desert island
Lester Bang's complied essays in Psychotic Reactions and Carburetor Dung. My man. That crazy, brilliant fucker. Really could read some of those riffs again and again....AND, good call, Kate, it *would* inspire me to write.

One book that made me laugh
Fargo Rock City tied with Sex, Drugs and Cocoa Puffs, both by Chuck Klosterman. He writes about music and pop culture in such an (seemlingly)effortless and humorous way, it makes me jealous. (and... it makes me laugh my ass off.)

One book that made me cry
The Grapes of Wrath, John Steinbeck Whew.

One book I wish I'd written
High Fidelity for chicks, with a female protagonist!

One book I wish had never been written
A Separate Peace. Why the fuck do they *make* kids read this in school?

One book I'm currently reading
Vonnegut's Welcome to the Monkey House, lent to me by Big Vonnegut Fan, James (actually trying to read more. Won't bore you or frustrate myself further by listing them)

One book I've been meaning to read
SO MANY is right, Kate. This is haunting and daunting...My co-worker, Tim lent me Ham On Rye, by Charles Bukowski. I started it and I just can't get myself to keep going. It's really fucking good, but really fucking depressing.

One book that changed my life
On The Road, Jack Kerouac. That crazy, mad stream of consciousness, that Beat slang ("generation-defining," even), and it's all about travel, sex, music, drugs, commies, and friendship--what the hell else do you want outta life? Or a book?

One book that made me think

Most books I read, really (hopefully!) Best example, Sex, Art and American Culture (book of essays) by Camille Paglia. She is such a fascinating mixed bag: refreshingly positive and inspiring one second and maddeningly stubborn the next) Paglia's theories and opinions had a huge impact on the way I viewed art and feminism and sexuality.

Thursday, October 26, 2006

Madge does the big O

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Alessanrda Stanley wrote this lil’ piece about Madge on Oprah.(she does a slightly clever thing by juxtaposing it with Bush's tv appearance, giving his "gloomy" assessment of Iraq...just in time!). Whenever I read Ms. Stanley I think about how she’s totally best buds with Maureen Dowd and then my mind wanders... I wish I could hang with those ladies. I wanna hear about their dates, go to premieres and get shit-faced with ‘em. Laugh our asses off to those stories about how Papa Bush tries to hit on Maureen whenever he sees her. Find out if Maureen and Charlie Rose ever hooked it up…they are *so* flirty! And then maybe we’d drunk dial Rummy or Condi or something. *sigh*

But, I digress.

I actually watched it (thanks to my dad) and it was…fine…whatever… Sometimes the Lady Madge bugs me. Her stiffness and affected way of speaking (NOT a Brit accent, people, but AFFECTED nonetheless--thinking of Linda Macca, here). She did well. I dug that she just did it from London and didn't actually "go on" the show... She told her story, she used a fitting analogy to describe how stunning and overwhelming it must be for the father of the young boy to be approached by international media. I mean, can you even fucking imagine?

Anyway. I still think it’s a non-story. I just loved how O had to ask her about the reports that she wanted to adopt an African child *only* after Brad and Angelina did. (!) She just had to throw in that she had “never met Angelina Jolie.”

I think something should be done about that. That meeting needs to happen.

For my sake.

Wednesday, October 25, 2006

"top-earning dead"

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So, Kurt Cobain is making more money, dead, than Dead Elvis....

Check it out:
(they call it the "Lucky 13"...isn't that a bit creepy?

1. Kurt Cobain
2. Elvis Presley
3. Charles M. Schulz
4. John Lennon
5. Albert Einstein
6. Andy Warhol
7. Dr. Seuss (Theodor Geisel)
8. Ray Charles
9. Marilyn Monroe
10. Johnny Cash
11. J.R.R. Tolkien
12. George Harrison
13. Bob Marley

wait--what?


Poor Madge and that pesky media. Amazing how a celeb gets totally vilified for adopting a child from Africa...!? Surreal. And yes, I know: this is such a non-story that got blown up for some reason. I honestly don't know why. What the fuck did she do wrong--that is, what steps did she not take (or take?)to get such a reaction?

I tot need to see her on Oprah! With all the claps, etc. But, gawd...how I fucking can't stand Oprah and her atrocious "interview" skillz...humph.

This is the latest I saw on the BBC, after her appearance on the Big O...The best bit is at the end:
The pop star funds six orphanages through her Raising Malawi charity and is setting up an orphanage for 4,000 children in a village outside the capital, Lilongwe.

Yeah....so, she's a horrible person....wait--what?

Monday, October 23, 2006

catu made me do it

(Not really).
But...
Cate has the Journey video for "Seperate Ways" on her MySpace page for some reason (Catu? Why?) and it made me seek this out. I had seen it before...cuz I fucking love (in a guilty-pleasure-like-virtually-no-other-way) this song...and live, it's more powerful than a locamotive...

It goes on and on and on and yeahhh.

Steve Perry and that bloody voice...that hook...that geetar (from the former wunderkind, Neal Schon. He joined Santana when he was fucking *15*). It's just so goddamn satisfying...in an empty sort of way.

Much like Taco Bell.

But...um...why did they have to look like that?

coming, to me, via the USPS


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Looking forward to it! Check the NYT review.

Monday, October 16, 2006

"Iz you Madonna!?"

One must remember that Lady Madge can be give some cred for introducing the States to Ali G (Sacha Baron Cohen--aka Borat, aka Bruno). He was huge-normous in the UK for quite sometime, then there was this intro in 2000, followed the explosion of Da Ali G show, on da cable tee vee.

(There is a fantastic EW article up now about Cohen...check it. Respek.)

BORAT, the movie comes out on Nov. 3. Be there.

And then, be sure to *VOTE* on the 7th, kids.

(oh, and HOWZ bouts that vid!? man, those were the days: Madge in a strip club.)

Friday, October 13, 2006

oh. hell. yes.

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I really wanna see this.
I don't even like Ms. Dunst, but Judy Davis is in it! and dig this fucking rad A.O. Scott lead [gawd, I am still in love with him. always will be...]

October 13, 2006
MOVIE REVIEW | 'MARIE ANTOINETTE'
A Lonely Petit Four of a Queen
By A. O. SCOTT


The problem of leisure/What to do for pleasure.”

The opening lines of “Natural’s Not in It,” by the Gang of Four, are the first words in Sofia Coppola’s “Marie Antoinette,” and they suggest one of that film’s paradoxical themes: The pursuit of sensual delight is trivial compared with other undertakings — just as “the problem of leisure” is surely more of a privilege than a burden — but pleasure is also serious, one of the things that gives life its shape and meaning.

huh?

Brandon Flowers...Conservative? Or just...dense...?

On that note...I am totally going to flake out and quasi-switch positions on how I feel about that Killers record. I still really, really dig it. I am addicted to the power pop of it and the grand schemes and the Springsteen-esque language...but...there's something that is a little hollow about it, after hearing it on so many occasions, now.

After talking to Jim about it, just saying my thoughts aloud...it does seem to be a bit more of a scam to "use" that Bruce-like language and imagery. It's not like Flowers is cribbing it directly, but it rings a little false and I think I actually *might* get what the EW review was all about, now. Maybe...

Dig it: I love Bruce Springsteen and his lyrical themes and his way with the English language and the vernacular of "common people" (Jarvis style) coupled with those visions of grand, absurd dreams we all have, too. He puts it all to music. Rock that looks back to early blues and country (and even earlier with those Seeger sessions), to Spector Wall of Sound, to Chuck Berry, to Johnny Cash, and even the muthafuckin' Clash. And more. Of course. He also carved out (excuse the crib, there) his very own sound from all that. Some followed him on that train (see: The Clash, U2, Ani DiFranco, Badly Drawn Boy, et. al.)

I just don't think Flowers is really on that particular train.

Of course...I can't back down about some of those fucking great, big, anthemic, epic, pop songs, though.

Gimme that shit all day and all of the night-- stick it right in my veins.

Wednesday, October 11, 2006

Hottest Old Man TV Journalist of All Time


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After 13 days of living in my new, wonderful, cozy, studio apartment (I couldn’t be happier! The luxuries of living alone continue to astound me…) I finally got some shit set up, including my Mega Monster Entertainment Tower: stereo, huge speakers, TV, VCR/DVD player and record player. *sigh* Boy, was that a joyous relief. Also, I acquired a TV antennea from Erica (who is in ISRAEL right now, for med school. I miss her already). With this newfound apparatus I am actually getting TELEVISION in my own home! This is a FIRST in over a year (before that I had cable, but my senior year of college was just antennae reception). Last night I felt like a kid watching the Howdy Doody Show or better yet, Ed Sullivan for the first time in the mid-1950s.


It felt absurd, but I felt vaguely guilty, like, I had lived without TV in my place of living for so long (of course, I watch TV at my dad’s and other locales) it felt like I was doing something naughty. Like, I had lived a good, moral life without TV (oh, wouldn’t Lady Madge be proud!? ha!) why do I “need” it now?


I also felt some major connectedness to the world, at large. I delighted in what I saw first: it was channel 9 with the Detroit Tigers playing (beating) the Oakland A’s (I know the A’s killed our poor Twins, but it’s where my Mom and her family come from, so I have this…connection thing). Just to have baseball on TV in October felt very traditional and comforting… then I realized I got 11, and most wonderful of all, channel 17! What was on but the bloody BBC news! FUCK YES. That also meant that I would be seeing my most favorite journalist/TV personality/interviewer of all time, Mr. Charlie Rose, at 10:30 pm.

I sat back in my chair and felt wholly American. I was watching TV and feeling ever so guilty and depressed about the war. Rose had on Niall Ferguson, a hot, brilliant Brit professor and author who just put out a book, The War of the World: Twentieth-Century Conflict and the Decline of the West (London / New York : Penguin Press, 2006) It was horribly depressing, of course, but it felt great to watch their conversation and learn a few nuggets of info. The whole EMPIRE thing. Charlie, talking bout how Ferguson’s book takes note that yes, the US is a fucking EMPIRE and we need to face it and own up to it. As for Iraq… The latest I saw this morning:


'Huge rise' in Iraqi death tolls

An estimated 655,000 Iraqis have died since 2003 who might still be alive but for the US-led invasion, according to a survey by a US university.


Last night, Rose has this lil’ smile on his face and he says, “Do you think our leaders could have benefited from taking a look at history, before the invasion of Iraq?” And Ferguson responds with a similar, knowing, wary smile, and discusses the eerie, comical example of “history repeating itself” as he mentioned what took place in 1917. At that time, British General Frederick Stanley Maude led the infamous “March on Baghdad.” Ferguson pulls out one of his quotes, (roughly) “We are not here as conquerors, we are here to liberate!” Hmmmmmmmmm, 1917, huh? Check this out: The Proclamation of Baghdad.

In the US of A, TV learning is fun! And depressing! What a fucking mixed bag to have the ol’ TV back in my life…. I feel OK about it. Especially since I only have 6 or so channels. heh. Of course, waking up this morning and hearing that it was about 35 fucking degrees was a nice slap in the face. brrrrrrr.

I think I might nix MPR *and* TV in the morning, and just stick to the ol’ iTunes Shuffle recipe. Yesterday I heard “Misty Water” by the Kinks and had a revelation. I had never paid attention to the lyrics before (I’d say I’m a very casual Kinks fan, I know why they were important, I know that Ray Davies’ lyrics are Uber-British and clever and all that.) But I had never heard how crazygreat the lyrics are! To my debouched ears, they sound like they’re about mysticism and drugs and sex. I swear...

Misty Water

By the town of Straight and Narrow,
There's a dark and misty place.
Everything is hazy,
So the people are afraid.

All except Maria's daughters,
Who believe in misty ways.
Everything is lovely,
In a misty morning glaze.

I like misty water,
I like fog and haze.
Anne Maria and her daughters,
They like misty water.

I like misty water,
I like fog and haze.
Anne Maria and her daughters,
Take a sip of misty water.

Though Maria is not lovely,
She's the lady of my dreams.
'Cause I see my lady,
Through a misty, silky screen.

And in seeing is believing,
But I can't believe my eyes.
Everything is lovely,
In a misty paradise.

I like misty water,
I like fog and haze.
Anne Maria and her daughters,
They like misty water.

They like misty water,
I like fog and haze.
Anne Maria and her daughters,
Take a sip of misty water.

I like misty water,
I like fog and haze.
Anne Maria and her daughters,
They like misty water.

They like misty water,
I like fog and haze.
Anne Maria and her daughters,
They like misty water.

I like misty water,
I like fog and haze.
Anne Maria and her daughters...


Just allows for crazy interpretation, if you ask me. I love that shit. Also, the music is just kick-ass, it starts kinda twee and story-telling-like and then there’s this fucking righteous lil’ raw guitar break down that sounds like a kid in his garage banging out simple power chords. It is super sexy and turned me on a lot. So, I emailed Jeremy and asked him how to go about getting into the Kinks—properly. He responded quickly, in great detail. I expect nothing less from Mr. Sunshine Bores the Daylights Outta Me.

Expect me to be into the Kinks on a whole different level. It’s a-comin’.

Sunday, October 08, 2006

Kasabian still rules the brain at this time...

That, and I just saw the DVD of the 1970 Isle of Wight and it totally fucking blew my mind. I was in the mood to watch Woodstock that night and the Brits (plus muthafuckin' Hendrix, in his finest form, THREE WEEKS before his death) won out.

Shocking.

Friday, October 06, 2006

"as you load my head with the Grateful Dead..."


Still coming down from last night, really. Saw Kasabian (FINALLY!) with James and Jim at the Fine Line and it was basically one of the best small rock shows I have been to an a LONG while...

And we met someone after the show. Somone British, from Southampton. Someone named James...who ran a club called Joiners...


check it out:


the highlight:Live at the Joiners

Some of the biggest names in music have played gigs at the Joiners in Southampton's St Mary's Street. BBC Hampshire looks at the venue that is an institution in the music world.

On the whole, bands seem to have very fond memories of the Joiners – remarkable given the lengths of tours and disorientating nights in the back of transit vans or tour buses.


Richard Ashcroft played with Verve at the Joiners in 1992, and in a recent NME interview he said their Southampton gig was: "...one of the greatest gigs that I've ever played in my life because we were ... incredible."

The gig was engineered by Ian Lawton: "It was my first ever gig with The Verve ... it just kicked off, I didn't really do anything and all of a sudden it became one of the greatest sonic experiences of my life and the life of everyone who was in the room -it was fantastic, everyone blamed it on me and said it was my fault that it was the best gig ever, but it had nothing to do with me at all!"

Wednesday, October 04, 2006

Darkness...and Sam's Town's bright lights

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It's haunting me! So, what I need to...will...explain...is that the new Killers' record seems to be extremely influenced by my personal favorite Springsteen record (yes, that is saying a lot) Darkness on the Edge of Town. It's chiefly lyrical, but there are these weird musical moments that evoke it, too.

That will be brewing and spewing...soon.

great news!

Beck and the Killers have put out fucking great records. They both just came out on Tuesday.

more on this later.......

But, I must say these following things...*now*... ha!

** Beck had me shakin' my ass in the elevator at 8:04 am today and I felt a lil' misty eyed thinking about how much that skinny white Scientologist has meant to me since I was a wee lass. I fucking think he's *tits* and always will be. I still think my dad was right when he said that Beck is the only musician of his generation that could stand to be Neil Young-like. Wotta a great statement...y'know: the longevity, the prolific album action, the uncompromising genius thing, the crazy eclectic thing, the weirdness...the, uh, QUIET STORM thing they both got goin' on...

**Um, so, yeah...the Killers are TOTALLY doing Springsteen and I couldn't be more surprised or more pleased. The album is fucking incredible and I can't believe how much I like it. For some reason, I just stubbornly did not want to partake in this absurdity! *SPRINGSTEEN*-like lyrics?!? Pssh, I said!

And then I heard the damn record. And saw the copious amounts of reviews that are pulling out the Bruce refs...apparently, Mr. Flowers is a "recent fan" (see below)... That, uh, kind of, um, gave me chills and shit...Just to know that someone is listening to my Man and making music that's crazypopularlike. I feel like it's a bit shameless and I can't help myslef but be sucked in by that lovely ANTHEMIC quality that gets me off so often...(The Who, Oasis, Bruce, Zepp, et. al.)

weirdness: EW talks of paraody (!?!) and wonders if they are "serious" (hmm, critics of Beck's music for the past decade? sound familar? total bullshit, if you ask me. you were asking me, right?). EW says this, "They've also added a fair helping of Americana to their Anglophilia. In interviews, Flowers has professed a newfound love for Bruce Springsteen, which explains lines like ''We're burnin' down a highway skyline/On the back of a hurricane'' in ''When You Were Young,'' the album's first single." and this: "There's no denying the Killers' skill at whipping up an almighty rock & roll racket." and then they go and give the record a "C" and evoke the poor man's Springsteen's band: Bon Jovi. humph. go figga. EW rarely disappoints, but this was one of those weird 'uns.

Friday, September 29, 2006

ever feel kind shamful


when a horrible joke of a Canadian '80s band sums up your state of mind (and maybe capitalism/American society in general)?

(Why can't I just have some fucking Eddie Cochran in my head, at least!?)

Everyone's watching, to see what you will do
Everyone's looking at you, oh
Everyone's wondering, will you come out tonight
Everyone's trying to get it right, get it right
Everybody's working for the weekend
Everybody wants a little romance
Everybody's goin' off the deep end
Everybody needs a second chance, oh
You want a piece of my heart
You better start from start
You wanna be in the show

Come on baby lets go

Everyone's looking to see if it was you
Everyone wants you to come through
Everyone's hoping it'll all work out
Everyone's waiting they're holding out
Everybody's working for the weekend
Everybody wants a little romance
Everybody's goin' off the deep end
Everybody needs a second chance, oh

You want a piece of my heart
You better start from start
You wanna be in the show
Come on baby lets go(quick break)
You want a piece of my heart
You better start from start
You wanna be in the show

Come on baby lets go

You want a piece of my heart
You better start from start
You wanna be in the show
Come on baby lets go

Ubuntu!


Ubuntu...it's all you need. Leave it to Clinton to dazzle the public with his knowledge of a Nguni word/concept...

thank gawd fer Woodward

So exciting and just in time for the election! Woodward, thwarted before by the White House...comes up with this. So fucking needed.

From the New York Times, today.

September 29, 2006
Woodward: Bush Concealing Level of Iraq Violence
By REUTERS
Filed at 4:37 a.m. ET


WASHINGTON (Reuters) - The Bush administration is concealing the level of violence against U.S. troops in Iraq and the situation there is growing worse despite White House and Pentagon claims of progress, journalist Bob Woodward said in advance of a new book.
Insurgent attacks against U.S.-led forces in Iraq occurred, on average, every 15 minutes, Woodward said in a CBS ``60 Minutes'' interview taped for broadcast on Sunday.
``It's getting to the point now where there are eight, 900 attacks a week. That's more than a hundred a day. That is four an hour attacking our forces,'' Woodward said in excerpts of the interview released on Thursday before the release of his book on the administration, called ``State of Denial.''
``The assessment by intelligence experts is that next year, 2007, is going to get worse and, in public, you have the president and you have the Pentagon (saying) 'Oh, no, things are going to get better,''' Woodward added.
Parts of a National Intelligence Estimate that President
George W. Bush ordered released this week showed an upsurge in Islamic militancy, while a new U.N. report said the Iraq war was providing al Qaeda with a training center and fresh recruits.
A senior administration official saw little new in Woodward's charges ``except that Bob believes he has a lot of making up to do since the Washington establishment criticized him for being too soft in his first two books (on the Bush administration).''
``We've seen this movie before, and we shouldn't be surprised of another critical book about the Bush administration 40 days before an election,'' said the official.
Bush's
Republican Party faces a strong challenge from Democrats as it seeks to retain control of Congress in the November 7 elections. The unpopular war in Iraq is a major issue in the campaign.
The official added there was nothing revealing in Woodward's account of the daily attack numbers. ``You print them all the time.''
Woodward said Bush and Vice President
Dick Cheney often met with Henry Kissinger as an adviser. Kissinger was President Richard Nixon's national security adviser and then secretary of state during the Vietnam War.
The reporting of Woodward and fellow Washington Post reporter Carl Bernstein played an important role in exposing the Watergate scandal that forced Nixon to resign in 1974.
According to Woodward, Bush was absolutely certain he was on the right course on Iraq. The writer said that when Bush invited key Republicans to the White House to discuss Iraq, the president told them, 'I will not withdraw even if Laura and Barney are the only ones supporting me,''' referring to his wife and Scottish terrier.

Sunday, September 24, 2006

and no one cares

Whew. War is hell. Does anyone care? Check it out: Sixty-five American female soldiers have died in Iraq or Afghanistan.

Been a long time

too, terribly long, really. I feel shitty about it, too. I hate not writing. I've barely written in my journal... Makes me feel a that lil' sick kick inside. By not expelling it, it creates that knotty feeling in the thoat. To quote Bart Simpson, it feels like I swallowed a potato chip of shame sideways.

Been in the Moving Mode (I move to my very own, lovely studio in just 3 days. Feeling great about that, despite those moving woes...Stress, etc.) I've also been burning the candle at both ends, as they say.... But, things are tot on the up and up.

James and I saw my most favorite iconoclast, George Carlin, last night...which was just about the most wonderful thing ever... It was the second time for both of us, very necessary that we went this time together. [something of fascinating note: James had spoken to his mother earlier that day and mentioned our plans. She told him that she and his father had seen Mr. Carlin "probably 30 years ago" in MPLS. This was absolutely shocking and revelatory information...since his rents, very Catholic and (at least) somewhat conservative would want to be subjected to Carlin-style heresy! Maybe it's just that Irish Cathoic bond, man. Maybe they were really into the heresy! Loved hearing that piece of family history, though].

George was in great, fighting form, despite post-rehab sobriety and a bad back which made him a lil' crabbier than usual (only at the beginning, it seemed). He had a huge chunk of new material that was golden and he actually uncharacteristically used notes, even reading directly from them at times. I found it refreshing and fun to see a writer look at his written words. Carlin is so known for his intricate pieces he recites so precisely from memory each and every time he spews it. The guy is a fucking genius with language and really takes care to deliver it effectively.

It was just great to *see* him again... in his hunched-over, pursed-faced glory. To simply be in a theatre (the Orpheum) with all those other fans laughing our asses off at *crisp*, concise, brilliant rants about everything from why Catholicism is the only religion that doesn't have The Bomb to wondering why humans can't take a shit in the street, if dogs can...to all those great bits about *WORDS* ((sigh)) I adore him. He has consistently served as my personal philosopher on life, language and society since I got really into him in 1999.

As cynical and harsh as can be, he somehow always makes me feel better about things. Puts it all into perspective. Reminds us to *THINK* and write and examine and question...everything. And, yep, things are all really fucked up and the world might explode tomorrow, but learn that you gotta have a fucking good time, imbibe intoxicants, alright, and be sure to laugh, laugh, laugh.

Remember those seven words? (and the history he made):
  • shit
  • piss
  • fuck
  • cunt
  • cocksucker
  • motherfucker
  • tits
ah. words.

Tuesday, September 12, 2006

....a young, scruffy, aloof, punk/nerd/poet/romantic/cynic

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I am kinda (really) broke right now, so instead of blowing my usual re-dick amount of money at Borders' book shop on Brit mags, I sat on the floor yesterday and read the articles I couldn't live without (I had to get them in my brain somehow).

So, I didn't just read 'em, I also (freakishly/nerdily) took notes. I had to (!?).

The Q interview/profile on the Arctic Monkeys was fantastic. Brilliantly written.

these are from my scribbles:

after buying DJ equipment with *no* intent to be a "b-boy," Turner saw the Strokes and went out and bought himself an acoustic geetar and switched areas of musical pursuit after thinking that being a rapper would be daft (even though it's clearly his favorite music, he loves the "imagery")...at this time he also got a job in a Sheffield bar called Boardwalk (?).

the reporter says, "forget songs, when did Turner start *writing*? "While polishing glasses and serving pints, Turner started taking notes on his Nokia mobile phone. He wanted it to look like he was texting. 'Writing notes in a pad in a Sheffield bar might be life-threatening,' Turner says.

Yes, I wrote those exact words on a pad in Borders...heh. he is silly and insecure about his writing and how lauded it is. how big of a deal it was to actually "admit" to someone: "I've written a song."


*this is golden:*[after a show] a very drunk Noel Gallagher enters their dressing room. Noel has come to tell the Arctic Monkeys that they were so good tonight, he actually danced to 'I Bet You Look Good On The Dancefloor.' 'If I'm moving me feet, then as far as I'm concerned a band are fucking 'avin' it,' he asserts. Though clearly drunk, he offers a lucid set of reasons for the band's success. 'We all thought the Libertines were it for about eight weeks, didn't we? They fucked it up. They turned out to be Suede. But these lads can't fail. They are Oasis's evil stepchildren. We haven't passed the baton. They've fucking grabbed it and taken it.' Gallagher believes the Arctic Monkeys has a better chance than Oasis for three reasons: they don't take drugs [um, reeeeally? hmmm], there are no supermodels to distract them and 'no brothers who hate each other's guts.'"

*sigh*... how is it, that Mr. Gallagher delivers such pithy, clever, grand statements (or at least is frequently quoted as such) that sum up everything I *wish* I could say on a wold stage? Amen.

a bit about how the lads actually listened to both "Rock'n'Roll Star," (*THE* Oasis Anthem) and "Pretty Vacant" (Sex Pistols) before a show. the reporter notes that these are opposing ideas. i don't really "get it" or "agree." hahaha. earlier, the "most punk" and most preppie-looking lad, guitarist Jamie Cooks laughed out the cliched (but great) line, "We haven't got a message. That's the message."

the end of the piece is stellar. after getting stuck on how uncommunicative Turner is, the reporter implies that the lad may just be shy and contemplative, rather than aloof. he answers a question from hours before, avoiding eye contact still, he quietly says: "I think if Oasis can be summed by the line, 'Tonight, I'm a rocknroll star,' then I reckon for us it's, 'Tonight, I've got no idea how I ended up here."

>>>>{{{{{{{{{>>>>>>>

oh, and not to erase all the good feelings....but, this was in the STrib. ~barf~ so sick...and just... nofair. it might be the thing I hate most that's as "popular" and "important"...to me, it's everything that's wrong with music writing, "taste-making" and all that hipsterbullshit that boils over with negative pessimism and self-righteous haughtiness. no enthusiasim, no passion... just bored, holier-than-thou SnarkTown. barf.