Wednesday, August 30, 2006

"...ain't worth nothing anyway"

So says Mr. Old and Crotchety (about MUSIC!)...I can't wait to read this interview. He he *always* has...

This is GREAT--it's Walsh's piece he wrote after meeting with a man that James works with. He has told me (and Jim, which inspired this interview) about Clark, the guy who sang with Earth, Wind & Fire, the guy that met Bob Marley and he would always include the phrase: “he's the sweetest guy you’ll ever meet,” every time. Seems about right.

Monday, August 28, 2006


After a 9 ½ hour day at the *Fair on Friday with James (totally magical and fun-as-fuck-all), I went yesterday with ma ladies (equally great in totally different ways. right on, right on).

Highlights included:

Me prompting Erica to get her age guessed. She did and dude was SEVEN YEARS off. He looked me and Elizabeth up and down, too and *still* had her at 18 years old. Wha---?? Erica got her self a lil' stuffed tiger, only to exclaim: "this one has a hole in the crotch!" nice.

Elizabeth and me on our favorite ride at the Fair, The Swings: We had just taken our shoes off and began lift off. Elizabeth turns around and shouts, “I feel like a fucking hippie!!” And I laughed for half of the ride.

I remember, that ride, those beloved swings were soooo important to me when I was in elementary school and it was Labor Day (the day my dad and I would ALWAYS go) and I would be thinking about school starting the next day. I would always be so excited and nervous and EXCITED (I fucking LOVED school. total nerd.) I was up there, in the sky--so high! thinking about all the possibilities and what the teacher would be like, the kids, the work, etc. I would be dog-tired the next day--always was for the first day.

*The Minnesota State Fair is extremely (freakishly) improtant to me. I have been at least once, every year of my life since I was 3 weeks old. I can't imagine an August in my life without it (I've never been outta the state or the country then) and it seriously is one of the only real "traditions" I participate in---in my life. In sum: I am one of those Fair Freaks.

Thursday, August 24, 2006

Wednesday, August 23, 2006

In this world we're just beginning/ To understand the miracle of living

When I was a kid, about 8 or so, I began to discover my budding Atheism. "Heaven is a Place on Earth," (the only solo hit for Belinda Carlisle) came out in 1987 and I completely thought it was subversively (or,* blatantly*, to me) about Atheism! I thought, wow, this is a love song that's saying this is as good as it gets. This is why love and LIFE are both so incredible and precious. There is no fucking afterlife, so let's whoop it up now and realize that yes, young Brianna, heaven is an attainable state right here, right now, on this earth.

It kinda blew my mind and it really comforted me at the same time. This was also, clearly, the start of me ascribing meaning (maybe too much) to pop songs.

Before I knew and could appreciate the whole Behind The Music-tales of the punk rock, pot-smoking, groupie-shagging Go-Go's, I just dug the hits. (I later saw them when I was in college at the Taste of MN and it was a blast. Like, fer sure.) I loved that growl in Carlisle's voice and her cute lil' protruding chin and that sweet, hot smile. She was a god-awful dancer (why did she even *try*? ugh.) But she was cool as hell and her voice kicked ass.

Everytime I hear this song I think of me, at 8, thinking Existential thoughts. I fucking love this damn pop song.

Heaven is a Place on Earth

When the night falls down
I wait for you
And you come around
And the world's alive
With the sound of kids
On the street outside
When you walk into the room
You pull me close and we start to move
And we're spinning with the stars above
And you lift me up in a wave of love...

Ooh, baby, do you know what that's worth ?
Ooh heaven is a place on earth
They say in heaven love comes first
We'll make heaven a place on earth
Ooh heaven is a place on earth

When I feel alone I reach for you
And you bring me home
When I'm lost at sea I hear your voice
And it carries me
In this world we're just beginning
To understand the miracle of living
Baby I was afraid before
But I'm not afraid anymore

Ooh, baby, do you know what that's worth ?
Ooh heaven is a place on earth
They say in heaven love comes first
We'll make heaven a place on earth
Ooh heaven is a place on earth

Monday, August 21, 2006

could Muhammad move a mountain? or was that just PR?

don't you get me wrong...

Thanks to Cynthia (reading my Madge bio, she wanted to YouTube some "Evita"...leads to that inevitable one-thing-leads-to-another YouTube disease, at age 12...I was so into this shit) ALW, baby! King of the schlocky, rock-y, musical! Raised in a non-religious household, only knowing Jesus in a detached, cultural way...this song SAID IT ALL. This is all at the tender age of 12, I remind you...

Friday, August 18, 2006

Bruce and Patti, Tunnel of Love Tour, 1988

The "Let's Fuck" pic, as they say...
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listen to the words, shudder and wonder

The music of late-1980s-Bruce Springsteen makes me think of a film image I saw once, briefly. Flipping through cable at my dad’s house, I stumbled across the HBO movie “Hysterical Blindness.” In it, a trashy ‘80s Uma Thurman is driving her car in New Jersey. Bruce Springsteen comes on the radio; she smiles, turns it up and sings along (at least, this is how I remember it.) I only saw that scene and a couple others and I couldn’t really tell you what the movie is about, but it certainly seemed like quite a disturbing film. Uma apparently did “gritty” well—she won a Golden Globe for the role.

I have been craving “Tunnel of Love”-era Springsteen lately (I found a note I scribbled in my room last night that read: “Ike says Bruce ‘lost him’ with ‘Tunnel of Love,’ but dude knows all the fucking words. Pssh.”) Every time I put that record on, I still get pleasantly surprised and amazed. Here’s Bruce, freshly married to model/actress Julianne Phillips, not working with the E Street Band and fans think he’s gone too Hollywood. Then he puts this record out and it’s totally about the Death of a Marriage and it’s dark, raw and personal. And *somehow* his wife and the general public *miss* these points.

I really don’t know how, when you’ve got two of the singles (two of the strongest, catchiest and most chilling songs on the album) laying out all the uncertainty, self-doubt and melancholy of a doomed marriage that Springsteen sounds trapped in.



Fat man sitting on a little stool

Takes the money from my hand while his eyes take a walk all over you
Hands me the ticket smiles and whispers good luck
Cuddle up angel cuddle up my little dove
We'll ride down baby into this tunnel of love

I can feel the soft silk of your blouse
And them soft thrills in our little fun house
Then the lights go out and it's just the three of us
You me and all that stuff we're so scared of

Gotta ride down baby into this tunnel of love
There's a crazy mirror showing us both in 5-D
I'm laughing at you you're laughing at me
There's a room of shadows that gets so dark brother
It's easy for two people to lose each other in this tunnel of love

It ought to be easy ought to be simple enough
Man meets woman and they fall in love
But the house is haunted and the ride gets rough
And you've got to learn to live with what you can't rise above if you want to ride on down in through this tunnel of love



I hold you in my arms
As the band plays
What are those words whispered baby
Just as you turn away
I saw you last night
Out on the edge of town
I wanna read your mind
To know just what I've got in
This new thing I've found

So tell me what I see
When I look in your eyes
Is that you baby
Or just a brilliant disguise

I heard somebody call your name
From underneath our willow
I saw something tucked in shame
Underneath your pillow

Well I've tried so hard baby
But I just can't see
What a woman like you
Is doing with me

So tell me who I see
When I look in your eyes
Is that you baby
Or just a brilliant disguise

Now look at me baby
Struggling to do everything right
And then it all falls apart
When out go the lights
I'm just a lonely pilgrim
I walk this world in wealth
I want to know if it's you I don't trust
'Cause I damn sure don't trust myself
Now you play the loving woman
I'll play the faithful man
But just don't look too close
Into the palm of my hand
We stood at the alter
The gypsy swore our future was right
But come the wee wee hours
Well maybe baby the gypsy lied

So when you look at me
You better look hard and look twice
Is that me baby
Or just a brilliant disguise

Tonight our bed is cold
I'm lost in the darkness of our love
God have mercy on the man
Who doubts what he's sure of

*Chilling* ... Could there be more obvious, vivid account of paranoia with someone you still (maybe) love and are probably still sexually attracted to? DO PEOPLE LISTEN TO LYRICS? Jeeeez.

I just love the gravity of this record, *disguised*, well, packaged as pop. Liz Phair did the same thing on “whitechocolatespaceegg” (I totally have already written about this aspect) and people were wondering…soon after, she was divorced.

Same thing happened with Springsteen, but for him and his bandmate, (then-misstress, soon wife-to-be and all-around-awesome redhead) Patti Scialfa, it was far more complicated and in the tabloid media. See, Bruce and Patti were on tour together and they fell in love. Problem was, Springsteen was still married to Miss Model/Actress, so things got messy.

The fun, facintaing drama (for me) comes on the record (and on the tour! Damn, can you imagine…?) when Ms. Scialfa is singing sexy back-up vocals on songs that are talking about wanting out of the Dommed Marriage…and how much you're lusting after each other....whew.

I can’t get enough of this stuff: lyricists who write so vividly, writing *frankly* about their own personal drama unfoldng, and they seem to be barely aware of it themselves.


Wednesday, August 16, 2006

love the Irish


Maureen Dowd and Denis Leary.

(fuck Dubya and Mel)

ALSO: Aug. 16th also marks the day Elvis and The Babe died. This blog is awesome, and he wrote real good about it. har har. Bonus quote he used:

Lester Bangs came close when he wrote this of the King's influence on pop culture - "He changed "How much is that doggie in the window?" to "Let's fuck."

in sum: links that rule today.

Happy Birthday, to her MADGEsty

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I will always worship you. No matter how insular you get, no matter what accent you chose to adapt, no matter how into or out of Kab you get, and no matter what you do to your will always be the shit.


My roommie, my friend, Cynthia made my night: she gave me this book
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The Sexual Life of Catherine M. by Catherine Millet, which I have secretly wanted to read since it came out five years ago. Humina, hottness....mmmmm "intellectual erotica"! rarrr.

Oh, and the massive, gorgeous "Gigs" book? Made in the UK. Of course. For my pleasure. Just a quick glance had me delighted. Pages I flipped through: Bob Dylan, "Judas" electric show; Glasto, 1971; Woodstock 1969; Oasis in Japan in 1994 (*I* don't even know the significance of that one...YET); and, of course, The Stone Roses, 1990 Spike Island. *sigh*

Now, more than ever I want to write a full Stone Roses thing...after all my festival-going this summer (Cynthia mentioned that when giving me the book, too. aww.) it makes so much more sense.

I have a feeling this book will be featured somewhere prominently in my home for the rest of my natural life.

Thank you, Cynthia.

Tuesday, August 15, 2006

what's next?

OK, I was in Starfucks. (Never you mind why...ok...I'm totally fucking addicted to coffee, alright? strong, good coffee. dammit. and, hey, it *might* be really good for you...) And THIS album was propped up for display.

W T F ?!

It is, by far, one of my most fave album covers of all time (and albums, period) and it's being sold at a supercorporate coffee shop? I know, I know Starfucks has been "on the edge" with marketing and selling music (usually..*good* music, somehow) in the last years, but...still.

Does "subversive" exist anymore?

Sunday, August 13, 2006

this is it

see below...

"'Bitch,' 'pussy,' 'balls' and 'fag' were used twice apiece. A variety of other words, such as 'tits' and 'cock' were each used once."

Whilst desperately trying to find an episode guide (I missed one! the horror!) for my favorite (and only) television show I actually watch, "Rescue Me" I stumbled across the only decent one...

"Television Without Pity" doesn't do RM, wtf?

Turns out it was this, a "parent's guide" to tv. Meticulously done, I wondered if the person who actually wrote the recap, and counted how many times the word "blowjob" (is it actually a compound word, or is it really two?) was uttered, was he/she offended or turned on...?

The best parts are the "examples" of the foul language, nasty violence and raunchy sex-- actual bits of dialogue rewritten pleasure. I'm quite pissed I didn't get to see this in action, but damn, I still chuckled anyway.

Tommy, Lou and Franco are stoned from inhaling marijuana plant smoke during a fire. They discuss whether they would have sex with Heather Mills McCartney. Franco says he would. Tommy: "Really? Even though she only has one leg?"

Franco: "Tommy, it's a bonus, man...It gives you an extra sexual position to enjoy, for one. That being, her laying on her side, okay, the side with the leg. You straddle said leg and do her sideways without worrying about the extra pesky leg getting in the way."

Tommy: "What about the stump?"

Franco: "I didn't think about that. Pass."

Thursday, August 10, 2006

Jack. nice n' sweaty. do it, do it to me, Jack! (*I* took this one!)

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Lolla: the highlights

Lady S-O-V! (Lady Sovereign)Fantastic voice, tremendous *punk* energy and talent and attitude and....she completely won my heart; I am in love. Seriously–I have never seen anyone like her. It may smell a little like a "novelty act", the songs *might* not be that strong, but she had that crowd captivated and grooving and chanting and laughing. Damn, the chick is cute (sorry, but the "vertically challenged" darling, she is 19, is just fucking undeniably cute) with her side ponytail and her braids encompassing one side of her head. She was TOUGH, sassy, FUNNY, stzoned and amped and swimming in her baggy gear, she paced a smaller stage at Lolla and I think my mouth was open most of her set. I also had little control over my ass–it kept shaking.

Ryan Adams...As we walked over to the stage a bit late, James informed me of the music wafting from the stage was "He’s Gone," a famous Dead tune. Ryan Adams then continued to play two more Dead covers, to the delight of the crowd. I was clueless, and I was happily shocked. Thank gawd James stood beside me, cluing me in to the hipness I have missed (I want to change that). The meandering, pretty melodies worked perfectly for his time slot–-the sun was beating down and there is something about that Dead guitar sound that is meant to be played in the sunshine. It feels like sun music, that reggae thing, it needs to be chill and mellow and sunny, that's where the drugs connect them, but it does really make sense...

He didn’t have any sort of breakdown–but he was in benevolently kooky mode. He went on a rambling, non-angry rant about eggs. Yes, eggs. Chiefly: "why you gotta be discriminatin’ against eggs, cat?" Like, why rock stars (oh, and normal people too) can’t order a "damn omelet" after 11 pm. He really only seemed mildly upset about this. And he went on and on about it. It was funny, but also mildly obnoxious.

He really didn’t seem sober. At all. It still sounded great, Adams himself has a great guitar sound. And, somehow, the way he sang and moved his mouth kept reminding me of Beck. It was comforting and unexpected.

The Raconteurs rocked, but for as much as I enjoyed it, I still felt that nagging disappointment that I wasn’t seeing the Jack White I know and love totally let loose in the White Stripes way I will always adore. That said, he still lead a great rock band with the songs from the record ("Hands," and "On The Level" were the highlights for me, the rest were good–not great) and two fantastic covers: Gnarls’ "Crazy"and Sonny Bono’s "Bang, Bang..." (featured prominently in "Kill Bill," sang by Nancy Sinatra.) The hugenormous crowd ate it up and I was there, lapping up all the Jack solos I could and ooooh they felt good.

Sleater-Kinney. Fuckin’ a. Man. Why? Why are they "done"? And why, oh why was I always so resistant to them? They tore it up. The sun was setting, and they were ROCK STARS. The female power was in full force and they sounded so tight and hardcore, I was stunned. They were so much more sexy and appealing than I expected. Also, they were far more accessible than I gave them credit for. Wow, did I miss that train. I feel really lucky that I was there for this set.

Gnarls Barkely. They PROVED themselves. Beyond my expectations. This was probably the most joyful performance I saw all weekend. Cee Lo was astonishing. Rocking this huge grin and pumping the mic stand back and forth, vigorously with his arms (COVERED in tattoos, it surprised me). Oh, and his *phenomenal* voice gave me chills. I can’t remember the last time I was in the presence of such a vocal talent. It flowed effortlessly and carried over the crowd like nothing else at Lolla, really. His phrasing and his tone were both so mellifluous. "Smiley Faces" felt like a drug. "Crazy" was surreal. "Gone Daddy Gone" was punk. They (all 20? Of them on stage was a sight! Dressed in white tennis outfits with sweatbands) were like a troop of performance artists. It was a traveling salvation show, bruda, and I totally felt saved afterwards.

....still have words in my head and on paper about Matisyahu and Manu Chao... they might make it on here......
Tim! Thank you! ("Westerberg with teeth")

This is incredible. One of the BEST bits of footage of any show I have ever seen; of anything. In terms of nonprofessional quality--it's brilliant (camera *angles*!?). AND it's the Mats in the friggin' ENTRY in 1981. I was being born and they were at their punkiest, their leanest and their meanest. I marvel at how focused and speedy they are...hmm...speed...eee. yeah. They look like adolecent puppies. I just love watching them throw their guitars around and the way Bobby is holding the neck... looky at the cutest, youngest lil' Tommy! aww. wotta lil' guy. And Westerberg reminds me of Jeff Buckley here...?

OH, and the Stinson bros. just rocked my face off, too.

Wednesday, August 09, 2006

lil' by lil'

I'll get there. Promise.

here's a start... this is a list of everyone we saw. (at least PART of, if not their whole set)

Red Hot Chili Peppers
Kanye West
Manu Chao
The Raconteurs
Queens of the Stone Age
Ryan Adams
Thievery Corporation
Blues Traveler
Broken Social Scene
The New Pornographers
Panic! At the Disco
The Smoking Popes
Gnarls Barkley
Lady Sovereign
The M's

oh, and the BLISTERS!!

who I’m sad I missed: Sonic Youth, Eels, and The Disco Biscuits

OH. AND. we missed fucking Patti Smith!?!? who played, unannounced at the Kids’ stage????!!!? ugh!!!!!

Tuesday, August 08, 2006

Lolla land

Well, it's official: I was rocking an ear infection at Lollapalooza.

Does that make me hardcore?

I damn well hope it does...

I went to the blessed MinuteClinic in fucking Eden Prairie Center tonight (they were the closest one that was open), my b-day night, thanks to my wonderful father. The kindly, sympathetic PA at the Clinic gave me a sucker with a smiley face on it...cuz it was my birthday and I have and ear infection....I feel like I'm 5 years old again.

Oh well. Boo hoo, boo hoo, right? Fuck it. I STILL had a blast at Lolla and I plan on writing all about it once I feel more up to it. (I took nerdy, necessary notes).

The highlights:

MANU CHAO alien...or something. An joyful alien from planet Politico Punk
Sleater-Kinney rocked my fucking face off, just like Paul always said they would. Of course I finally get it *now*, when they're breaking up. Nice.
Gnarls Barkley...Gospel, rock, performance art (!?) soul-revue: yes. so much more to say....what a marvelous experience.
Matisyahu... what a talent!! so very religious, but so very inspiring to even me. great songs, blistering guitar, seeing him in his...garb...jumping about and beat-boxing felt like a once-in-a-lifetime kinda thing.

same goes for:
The Blisters! Ryan Adams!?!?!
and come.....promise........

Tuesday, August 01, 2006

Thank you, Dan Murphy. Thank you.

Jessica exposed me to this.

It makes me wanna squeal with joy, something so well-written *made* it into the letters of City Pages... They are soooooo SMUG, huh? To the point that it bites 'em in the ass.

I love Jessica....and Dan Murphy. And Paul for loving Soul Asylum...

*the two best bits*


I assume you have already dusted the shelves off in a gesture of smugness. But
you are merely the bloated self-righteous big fish in the small yet surprisingly
fresh, vibrant, and bright artistic pond known as the Twin Cities. Simply put,
you are out of your league.


Your brand of rehashed insights would be better suited to "The No Spin Zone," where at least the public knows what they're getting when they tune in and have the chance to change the channel.

ah, seething, yet brilliant and true.