It's really happening.

I am seeing Madge.

In Chi. With Erica (thank you, thank you, thank you, Erica!). She scored tix on Ebay and I am still numb with disbelief.

I have never seen her. I have wanted to see her since I was 4 years old and danced to "Borderline" in front of the television while eating Cheerios out of a Tupperware bowl. My dad said he wanted to take me the couple times she actually stopped in MN, but decided against it after learning of the furor over the expicit sexual content on the Blond Ambition tour. Thanks, dad... I know you were just doing your job.

Now that I'm old enough to handle it (and dig it) I get to watch her perform her best songs of her career strapped to a mirror-ball-turned-crucifix complete with a crown of thorns and slap gay male dancers with an equestrian whip. *sigh*

And, believe it or not, I am paying *less* than $100 for the ticket... a ticket that would have been *over* $200 if I had purchased it through Ticketfucker, er--"master."

Check out the fantastic review in EW.


The set list from the first night [squeals with delight]:
Future Lovers
Get Together
Like A Virgin
Jump
Interlude
Live To Tell
Forbidden Love
Isaac
Sorry
Like It Or Not
Interlude (Sorry remix)
I Love NY
Ray Of Light
Let It Will Be
Drowned World
Paradise
Not For Me
Interlude
Music
La Isla Bonita
You Thrill Me/Erotica
Lucky Star
Hung Up

Can't Hardly Wait

mmmm. It starts on Tuesday. Sopranos may be ending, but at least I will still have some cussin', ripped, tough-as-fuck, East Coast men to replace them. With the Catholicism, the death, fire, the sex and the drugs and the drinking.... *sigh*

what is it about that face?

are you a fucking eeeeee-jit? well, maybe he's just "tired"

yeah.

and Richard Ashcroft was "dehydrated" when he passed out at Lollapalooza...

Andy leaves the Lads...(forever?)

ears are ringing...mmm...It feels niiiice

Just came home from a mightily entertaining basement show at the Alamo House. Saw These Riffs (what a fantastic name for a band, eh? I still have my "I Like To Riff" button, Jim! Somewhere...) Erica's boyfriend plays part of the three-guitar attack of their purely instrumental style of metal-rock-punk. It really, really works.; they are tight and melodic and *skilled.* No vocals and super speedy complex riffs and song structures (like a way more interesting Metallica). The drummer pounds his ass off, too. It's mesmerizing.

One of the best bits: they're totally not boring-pretentious-indie-rock, even though they could be. They *could* be..that's easy to fall into...but as good as they are, it's such a relief that they're not They're just supertalented and they rock and it's not a hipster affair. It's refreshing.

Especially in a basement. I still feel like seeing a great band in a really small space, on the same level--with no platform or stage makes the music really intense and intimate and powerful. And to see all the fellow musicians and musicnerds (me) get superclose and stare at how their fingers fly and strangle and fondle their fretboard is just eye candy.

Oh, and how great is the Alamo House--making me nostalgic for freshman year at the U. Da-yum. The rock-poster-plastered walls (Marlon Brando--"What are you rebelling against?" with the reply, "Wha'dya got?" and Woody Guthrie even makes it), the beer can infested basement. The pornographic picture of the Clash on the refridge, the equally-pornographic picture of Mike Ness across from it. *sigh*

Erica and I rocked G'n'R on the way home (so, I wanted to look at pix of Axl and found him in the fucking Sid shirt--wtf?!) and I told her that "Sweet Child O' Mine" was a "PERFECT song." It is--right, Paul?

howverypunkrock

are *cardinals* man!? not the Catholic ones....the birds, dude!

I have officially decided that they are the only birds I dig. I saw this one this morning, and then I saw it (sure, mebee it was his friend or bro or something...) again on my way home.

They are so righteous looking, with that mohawk...

And you *know* how I fucking hate birds, usually....(see post from months ago where I was all Hitchcocked up about 'em).

I think it's the Flaming Red that just floors me......*plus* they look they're wearing heavy eye make-up: Dusty Springfield/Chrissie Hynde style. Rock'n'roll animal..........Is this what you meant, Lou Reed?

when public displays of heroin use abound *and* blood is "flung"....

I won't even say his name...but....YOU KNOW who I am thinking of....... and hmmm bet that blood is nice and fresh and clean!

from Jessica....my supplier...as much of a joke we know it is...we can't be stopped!

Pete Doherty appeared on MTV with his band Babyshambles and proceeded to squirt a syringe full of his own blood at two cameras after he injected heroin in front of staffers.

Why...I mean why?

MTV News had managed to secure a backstage interview with Babyshambles after a gig in Berlin.Pete, who remains close to KATE MOSS, had refused to join his bandmates.

But midway through the interview Pete appeared in the room and sat down.
He then took aim and unloaded a barrel-full of his own blood on the camera lens from a few yards away.

His face lit up and he shouted: “That was a wicked shot. That’s going to make a cracking link that is.”

But his two bandmates — bassist Drew and dummer ADAM FICEK — were not pleased. Drew apologised to MTV saying: “I think the interview is over my friend. I’m really sorry about that mate, that’s fucked up.”

Then Drew fled and was seen kicking a door in a rage down the corridor. Pete also left but returned to perform a song once MTV had managed to clean the lens.

Oh. Yeah. And...She's a kick-ass writer. Really!

She is. A Great Writer. And...she *happens* to be extremely hot and remind me of how insanely sexy Rebecca De Mornay was as Lana in "Risky Business"--one of the only good movies Tom Cruise has ever made..that fuck. Or maybe she looks a little like Traci Lords...I mean, either way... (and btw: that's Traci on top and our fair MLPS lady, Ms. Cody--topless, on bottom. right, then.)

Anyway. I think she is kick ass and Jim and her dig each other. That's enough for me.

Damn. Look at...everything. And how bold to put it on yer own blog.... And I am really not that into the whole Suicide Girls thing...really. So....wow.



Don't look soon for me doing the same.

Neil is my hero

Check it out: Bush, GOP Congress Losing Core Supporters

(bonus points for anyone who knows what was up in 1951 with Truman...?)

and on that same note...
NEIL YOUNG - Living With War
I wanted to post the lyrics to "Let's Impeach the President," but I can't do the cut and paste thing--and that's cool. It's cool that Neil wants you to *hear* the songs and watch the lyric scroll...oh, Neil. *sigh*

Had some tears well up this morning, listening to it. At 6:45 in the AM.

On the bus.

So, I had to ditch it and put on Arctic Monkeys' "Love Machine" to buck up my spirits...and laugh...and get turned on by that precocious innocent sexuality of theirs...

SIDNNAAAAAAYYYYYY!!!!

Happy Sid Day!! Thanks James, you made it a "day."

(oh, and Bono and Dave Mason and Donovan!)

It was Elizabeth's last night to hang out in MPLS and we made it all about Sid, not even trying...really... and we kept saying "Happy Sid Day!!!" that helped...

Oh, yeah--astrology. Check this fun shit. For some reason it's fun and intriguing to see when these people were born...even though it means nuuuthing.......

Wanna write about this night I had with Erica at First Ave. last Friday. We saw one of her favorite local bands, Gingerjake, the metal-ish four piece with the slammin' hot chick lead singer that stalks the stage like a cougar. Iyyi. (the title will revolve around seeing the t-shirt that read, "You'd Be A Lot Cooler If You Did.") I have been preoccupied...it's no excuse. I know. I have been delinquent. And the only one I'm hurting is myself. Aww.

Then there's the Stone fucking Roses............that's just NOT going away. I can't shake this fever. So, that story is still on it's way... it grows richer by the day.

Also on rotation: The wonderfully earnest, passionate (and political!) Richard Ashcroft; wotta heartthrob; wotta voice and presence. The new Neil is pretty WONDERFUL: smart, angry, touching, melodic, rockin'...just as you'd expect and hope. It's chilling and disheartening...but it is so goddamn necessary. It feels cathartic.

And then there's breaking on through to the dark side...with Black Sabbath. Finally bought "Paranoid" and I feel like I am filling a huge music-hole that was void for years. Much like the Stone Roses void I have been filling lately...I mean everyday....whew.

Jeremy, that fucker, tried to get me into these two bands in particular for so many years now (and quite a few others...I still need to investigate the Exploding Hearts....) The sad thought I had the other day: the Stone Roses debut CD very may well be buried in my pages of burned records that I have neglected since the day he gave them to me. I should re-visit those pages.

I just don't think I can ever dig The Fall, man. As much as J is into them, I can't hear it... Mark E Smith scares the shit outta me; even if Mary Lucia and Mark Wheat are ga-ga over him...

sorry for all the.......... and the............


it's been Sid Day, man.

And I'm gonna miss Elizabeth, like mad. It hurts. There goes my 14-year-old partner in crime. One of the gang members.

Take care of her, Chi-town.

Back in the garage with my bullshit detector; Here in *my* bedroom...

Well, it's not "I Wanna Be Adored," but it's got me dazzled and dazed.

Just got back from the BLB, where they had 16 local songwriter/performers do songs they had just written in the last 36 hours.It was fucking fantastic. There were very few clunkers (and even those were very entertaining at the very least) and the ones that shone, shone so fucking bright.The writers were given a topic: COFFEE. *sigh* Coffee–one of my favorite narcotics (I have several, you know...)

Most songs had some element of humor to them, and it totally *worked.*' The humor usually involved themes of addiction, too. Something that’s been mega-on-my-mind lately...anyway...

The audience members each got ballots and we were to vote on the best song (Jim and I just couldn’t, as pansy-ass as that might sound–they were all so fucking good.) Yep, that’s right–voting. For performers. On a Tuesday night. Yes, American Idol is what I’m getting at, and yes, that’s what Jim wanted to make a statement about (how much better it is when you’re watching people that created their own material, versus "pop star wannabes". Yes, yes, yes. BUT, in the Ladies, at work, I overheard the chicks chatter about how "Paris isn’t gonna make it," "That’s too bad, but she does always end up in the last places," "Oh, Chris is totally gonna win it!" And my tape is sitting on the coffee table waiting to be watched after I finish writing. But that’s neither here nor there....(it totally is, though).

The thought that just got me–from every musician–was how overwhelming music and language is for me. I realize it is the same for many other people, as well. I have just had those "holy-fucking-shit-there’s-a-lot-out-there-moments all throughout my life. That feeling is exaggerated when I see new live music, for sure. Just: what is out there...? In how many bedrooms and in how many garages in this city (how bout the world...how bout Manchester or Sheffield!) are there brilliant phrases being turned or beautiful, complex melodies being created? That scary thought: imagine all the brilliant and righteously creative songs that are written and that we will never hear. Just makes the stuff we are lucky enough to catch even that more precious.

As each person took the stage–all with their unique personalities, styles, deliveries–it overwhelmed me, but I was just so transported into their worlds, it was incredible. Couldn't stop that huge smile on my face the whole time. Jim and I just couldn't get over how much we wanted these songs--all of them-- to be on a record. It seemed like they had more at stake; a lot of them talked about being nervous ("my pits are sweaty"), but they all were naturals.

Oh, and by the way, these fine men and women were:
Eva Mohn, Terry Eason, Ben Glaros, Chris Harrington, Luke Zimmerman, Sam Keenan, Patrik Tanner, Brad Senne, Martin Devaney, Ellis, Mike Brady, Tony Thomas, Future Lisa, Darin Wald, Todd Millenacker, Robert Meany and Chris Koza.

One very special bit of course was the fact that all these talents had to come up with the song they performed in 36 hours. That obviously adds this whole other element–pressure, urgency and makes it so very impressive. Just as fresh as it can get. I began to wonder those thoughts that "outsiders" (aka music journalists who are not musicians themselves) often have. [think "Almost Famous": "Do you have to be in love to write a love song?" kinda thing] Like: do they all have original melodies swirling in their heads all the time? Or do the have to plunk it out on the piano or guitar and find it first? Is there any truth to that whole Tori Amos and Neil Young thing—that songs "find them"and they just execute them? Are there certain lyrical themes and structures they continue to use will all songs–so they have a base with an odd "assignment" such as this...? These are the thoughts of a music nerd, people.

In any case, these songs about coffee, addiction, crushes, relationships, sex, driving and this city were *all* great fucking songs that I really, really wanna hear again. Undeniably melodic, catchy melodies. Some of the lyrics were just so brilliant, I had to jot ‘em down (so did this young girl, maybe 13 years old, sitting next to me. Look out world: more music nerds coming your way!)

* Patrik Tanner and his dead-pan delivery of his chorus: "I get my coffee liquored up/ then things don’t seem so bad."

* Mike Brady and his great Beck-like thing he has going on: "I’ve fallen in love with what I can make at home."

*Chris Harrington and his freaky-comedic "German Guy" routine with him at the drums and a little whirring coffee grinder as his musical statement.

* Martin Devaney and the song I said was the best one he ever wrote (he's best when he's funny). The fantastic line in the chorus: "We could just get coffee/ I don’t like you that much," that was delivered with such perfection, it surprised us– the entire audience audibly reacted with fitting laughter.

*The sexy-stunner of a line from Sam Keenan: "You don't have to feel bad/ it's whatever gets you up when you feel sad/ I know you like it like that." DA-YUM.

*Speaking of sexy, Eva Mohn brought some Natalie Portman-hot lil' cutie vibe to the stage with the hot-smart song about being a tea-drinking barrista,"My bachelor degree has rendered me/ fit to serve coffee."

*And, maybe the best of the night, Darin Wald of Big Ditch Road and his classy, subtle execution of: "The look you gave/ was stronger than anything your poured inside my cup." *Killer*.

Much of the humor and cleverness felt like Westerberg or Phair...must be something about coffee...

At one point, I looked over at Jim (when he was hootin’ and hollarin’ and giving deserved praise) and I thought, how amazing–he’s fucking seen it *all*. The early days of the ‘Mats, and everything since, and in between and he still has all that *joy*. Still goes to shows all the fucking time. He is so far from jaded or bitter or even just seen-it-all attitude, instead he still gets a total kick out of it all and makes great music own his own, as well.

Now, that’s not to say he or I don’t still have that critical ear. We do. I know people have thought I was an asshole for the "mean things" I have said or written about musicians (there was a certain record by a certain guy by the last name of Jennings, first name of Mason...). And, that bothered me a bit. It used to. I don’t care now. Now, it’s so different anyway. Since I don't write for money anymore, I don’t get craploads of shitty local or national bands I'm forced to write capsule reviews for. It’s better now. I get to rant and rave and riff on all the shit I love and it’s made me happier, gosh darn it. Heh.

In other news:
I have been walking home from work everyday now...Mostly it’s just an excuse to listen to music and enjoy the weather, but I hear walking is good for you, too...heh. Actually, my cool-as-hell co-worker, Betsy told me today: "I was thinking about it, Brianna...you know how in old-time books, by authors like Jane Austen, they would always say, "I just went on my daily constitutional around the grounds" [I did not know this, even though I nodded my head, oh, yeah, but the def: "A walk taken regularly for one's health." Nice.] And I thought, nobody does that anymore. But then I thought, wait, Brianna does!"Awww. Fuck yeah! (Y’know who also does it, for reals: Cynthia. Tot.) Just don’t put me in one of those fucking upright boob-dresses that make you look preggers. And I don’t want to have a verbal sparing match with anyone named "Mr. Darcy."

fantasies of sweaty dancing mayhem taunt me...fuck. why wasn't I there!?

Madge! Festival debut! Coachella!

best bit:

"used her set to attack the US President, changing the lyrics of 'I Love New York' to "Just go to Texas and you can suck George Bush's dick.'"

I woulda died. Just died.

Well, cuz of that...but mostly because of her set! Sure, it was only 6 songs long...but she did "Everybody"!!!!!!!!! C'MON.

wow.wow.wow.

it hurts.