Sweet tits, some good music being played in the house lately. Some old, some new, some in-between. These are some of my favorites of the last few months.
Hurricane Bells: “This Year” from Tonight Is The Ghost, which you will buy here. Such a gorgeous, gorgeous album. Other favorite songs from this album are “Darkness Is So Deep,” “Crocodile” and “Tenterhooks.”
Wild Beasts: “All The King’s Men” from Two Dancers, which you will buy here. The whole record is catchy as hell (thanks to Mr. It’s Lexi, Bitch! for turning me onto this one).
The xx: “Islands” from xx which you will buy here. This is the most disturbingly good record I’ve heard in the last year or so, I love it dearly.
She & Him: “In The Sun” from Volume Two, which you will buy here. Obviously, the perfect summer record. Listening to it makes me feel like the “after” girl in antidepressant commercials, hanging out with adorable friends on a sunny porch, laughing, drinking iced tea and playing an impromptu game of flag football!….instead of sitting on my couch in sweatpants eating string cheese, which is what is usually happening. Additionally, my friend Kate did the cover art for this record and it’s super rad and sweet!
Pajo: “Where Eagles Dare” from Scream With Me, his record of acoustic Misfits covers THAT IS SO FUCKING AWESOME YOU HAVE NO IDEA!!!!! You must, must, must buy it here. Even if you’ve never liked or listened to the Misfits, you will love this, I PROMISE YOU.
Massive Attack featuring Hope Sandoval: “Paradise Circus” from Massive Attack’s Heligoland which you will buy here. Oh my goodness, two of my favorites at the one time! It’s exactly what you would expect, totally unearthly and lazily paced and beyond beyond beyond sublime!
And, of course, saving the most life-altering for last……
Lady Gaga featuring Beyonce: “Telephone” from Gaga’s The Fame Monster which I’m going to assume you already own because if you don’t YOU SHOULD BE FUCKING EMBARRASSED.
September 30th and October 1st changed my life forever…..as I finally got to see my queen bee, Ms. Kylie Minogue, perform live! What’s that? Her first North American shows EVER?!?!!?! Yes, that’s correct, and I was there for both of them!! “LIFE-ALTERING” DOES NOT EVEN BEGIN TO DESCRIBE THE MAGNITUDE OF THE EXPERIENCE CELLA AND I HAD.
To channel our nervous and excited energy in the days leading up to the shows, we did what anyone would do. We made shirts and headbands to celebrate our Kylie.
“Understaaaaand, I’m a diamond for yoooooou, a white diamond for yoooooou” inspired us, naturally!
SO EXCITED I CAN’T EVEN DESCRIBE.
Upon rounding the corner and seeing the marquee, our screaming began and did not end for HOURS.
We planted ourselves on the first tier so we were at an even level with our girl, and then it began…….she descended from the ceiling on a giant crystal skull singing “Light Years.” We literally screamed bloody murder and both sobbed instantly. The Beatles’ crowd on Ed Sullivan had NOTHING on us. The guys in front of us gave us their spots within 15 seconds.
She brought that shit, and she brought that shit wearing an INCREDIBLE custom wardrobe from Alexander McQueen.
She walked down a man-staircase in stilettos, after her hot dancers took showers together under stage prop showers while videos of nude mens showering together were projected behind them. I keep re-reading that sentence and it doesn’t make sense. Sorry, just remembering it has made all the blood in my brain evacuate and rush to my nethers. Yes, this is why she is the queen bee.
This is the only point during which I didn’t scream, and that is simply because I was bawling as she sang “White Diamond” while acting out a tormented and sad love story with one of her male dancers, followed by “Confide In Me” and “I Believe In You.” This is why we wore waterproof mascara.
Fabulous Gareth Pugh headpiece, fierce-as-fuck Louboutin boots, welder mens dancing, and enchanting smile. IT’S JUST TOO MUCH TO HANDLE, IT REALLY IS.
The next night we did it all again in formal wear….
And our devotion was rewarded with a setlist! I look at this every single day and feel happy, and I listen to “Light Years” every single day and get the roller coaster belly all over again.
My beloved Kylie was charming, hilarious, personable and effortlessly entertaining…..and the cabaret version of “Locomotion” WENT OFF. Until next time, Kyles!
When John Hughes died a few weeks ago, this tribute to him — written by a woman who was a fan of his as a teenager who then became his penpal — was linked and posted just about everywhere. When I read it, I instantly thought of my friend Dean Turner.
Dean was the bassist for Magic Dirt, an Australian band that has been one of my favorites for years. I discovered them in 1997 and was instantly smitten with their album “Friends In Danger,” which I happened to find in the import section of a record store in Santa Cruz. As time went on, I realized what a lark it was to have found that record in the States; though they had a U.S. record deal, their label did nothing for them aside from shipping it to a few stores once they heard it and the sound wasn’t what they were expecting. As a result, nobody I knew in my small, 13-year-old-world had heard of them or wanted to give them a chance. Desperate to talk to someone about their brilliance, I found their website and began posting on their message board, something I’d never done before. I couldn’t believe it when I realized the band members themselves frequented their message board, because to me they were as inaccessible and huge as the Rolling Stones.
Over the next couple of years, I conversed with Dean, their singer/guitarist, Adalita, and their manager, James, on their message board a lot – they were always interested in how overseas fans had heard of their band and what our local music scenes were like. Dean and I found common ground at one point when he was bored out of his mind in the hospital, having just gotten a foot tumor removed, and with little to entertain him outside of visiting hours but the laptop his bandmates smuggled into him. He downplayed his pain and lengthy recovery, but was going crazy with all of the unfilled hours, and spent them chatting with his fans online. He’d heard of a new show out in the U.S. that was making waves, “Jackass,” and wondered if I’d heard of it. Being a teenager, I was the show’s target demographic and had taped hours of it, so I offered to send some episodes to Dean. My mom drove me to the post office and I used my allowance to cover the postage to Australia, and when Dean got it he was completely thrilled and profusely grateful. After he got out of the hospital, he sent the tape around to a bunch of his friends, who were also thrilled by it.
A few weeks later, a package arrived for me that contained a letter from Dean, every Magic Dirt album I couldn’t find (some on vinyl), Magic Dirt posters, a Magic Dirt t-shirt, and a mix tape Dean had made just for me. I was beside myself. For the next couple of years, we sent each other packages – we made each other t-shirts and mix tapes, and we’d swap Australian/American music magazines and candy. I shudder to think what I possibly put on mix tapes for him at that point in my life, but his mix tapes were a major part of my musical education, and included the first Dinosaur Jr. and Kyuss songs I’d ever heard. He even wore a t-shirt I made him onstage once, that read “BEAR SUIT” in rhinestones, regarding a long-running gag with fans. The most amazing part to me was that he truly seemed as excited to receive my packages as I was to receive his!
The years went on, I turned 18 and moved to New York City and began working, and Dean got married and had two kids and Magic Dirt continued at a frantic pace, and we fell out of touch. Occasionally I’d still check in on their message board and receive an enthusiastic greeting from him, just as he did with so many other fans. So when I read the John Hughes tribute a few weeks ago, I was warmly reminded of what a special experience I’d had with Dean. As it turns out, Dean was very sick at that point with an extremely rare form of deep tissue cancer that he had been battling quietly and privately for nine years (thinking back, I realize his foot operation may have been the beginning of that, though with Dean’s stoicism, I have no clue if that’s accurate). Last weekend, I learned that Dean had lost his battle and had passed away at the age of 37. It does not feel real.
Dean and I never got to meet each other, and I never got to see Magic Dirt live so I never saw him playing bass barefoot, weight on his arches with the outsides of his feet sticking up, in person. But Dean and his music are two of the most influential presences I’ve had in my life. His experience with the music industry influenced my entire career path. He is what brought me to one of my greatest friendships, with aforementioned manager James. And his kindness, generosity and enthusiasm made me realize, at a formative age, how simple it is to treat people well. I know those are the traits that drew his wife to him, and that his two young daughters will grow up to embody those traits.In the past week I realized they may get to know their sweet Papa the way I did – through his music, the music he loved, the things he wrote, the things people wrote about him, and through the things he left behind. I just hope they don’t find the “Jackass” tapes until they’re a bit older.
A few of my favorite Deano and Magic Dirt moments:
Ohhh, do my emotions have a complicated history with Sonic Youth. Can I even tell you how many times I put “Self-Obsessed and Sexxee” on mix tapes for boys I was trying to woo when I was growing up? And then how many times I listened to “Inhuman” to get over unrequited love, when said mix tapes didn’t work? As long as I’ve been around, so has Sonic Youth, so we’ve been through a lot together. I’ve had entire friendships founded on a mutual love for Sonic Youth. Kim and Thurston were major reasons I first started playing guitar. They had a cameo on “Gilmore Girls” and will next be on “Gossip Girl,” both shows I am too old to watch but still do. But somehow after all this, I’d only ever had the honor of seeing them live for about 15 minutes, once, at a festival in Australia. Until a couple of weeks ago!
I finally had the chance to see them at the Fox Theater in Oakland on August 2nd, and IT WAS PERFECTION. Having spent the day totally nauseous in anticipation and excitement, I almost blew chunks as I totally left my body and my 14-year-old self saw me from above, uttering the words “I’m on Sonic Youth’s list” to the woman at the box office. I mean, HOLY FUUUUUUUUUUUCCCKKKKK. A series of delightful things happened, the first of which was somehow finding a spot on the floor behind an entire section of people shorter than I am. Being around people shorter than I am has only ever happened in two situations: when I lived in Mexico, and whenever I’m around children under the age of about 10. Seeing the stage perfectly FROM THE FLOOR? Unheard of for this tinysaurus! Next, I was ordering a drink and accidentally winked at the bartender because I got some shit in my contact, and he thought I was hitting on him and he gave me a SUPER-boozy drink and undercharged me (will try this again everywhere I go).
Mark motherfucking Ibold from Pavement (new bestie) (source)
Fucksocks, limited awesome photos on Flickr. Next time I’ll take Prilosec for 2 weeks leading up to it so I remember my goddamn camera instead of remembering not to vom.
Setlist:
Tom Violence
No Way
Sacred Trickster
Calming the Snake
Hey Joni
Anti-Orgasm (in which Dan wrote out each letter for “ORGASM” flashing one after another on LED panels, totes genius)
Walkin Blue
Poison Arrow
Malibu Gas Station
Antenna
Leaky Lifeboat (for Gregory Corso)
Massage History
Stereo Sanctity
Encore:
What We Know
Shadow of a Doubt
Encore 2:
The Sprawl
‘Cross the Breeze
Sweet fucking tits, I think I saw Allah by the end of it!
Afterwards, Marc (my +1, who drove back up to the Bay from Santa Barbara that day and went to Neverland to pay his respects on the way. That’s the only way my day could have possibly been even more overwhelming!) and I went back to the dressing room, where I stood back-to-back with both Kim and Thurston at various points and was WAY too nervous to speak or even look at them directly (maybe I should make them each a mix tape! Oh wait….). But Marc did strike up a conversation with Mark Ibold, who I also was too nervous to speak to (HE WAS IN MOTHERFUCKING PAVEMENT, OH MY FUCKING GOD) but managed to squeak out a few utterances and giggle excitedly in his direction. He was so incredibly friendly and jubilant, it was an absolute delight. After that, Marc and I made our way to BART, our ears still ringing. A landmark night, and nary a drop of vomit was ever spilled!
Also, I love going to shows at the Fox. The venue is beyond beautiful and well-designed, the staff is always SO nice (the bew elderly gentleman who took my ticket told me he loved my bag and my style! I was having a fat/ugly/clothing crisis day until then!), the sound is top notch, and it’s just a pleasant experience each time. You get to have these dudes looming over you, blessing your evening: (source)
(Note: this would have been posted a couple of weeks ago, but I went to visit my parents the next day and their internet connection is powered by hamsters running on wheels, FML)
This happened a few months ago, but I’m still processing it and almost still can’t even talk about it.
I bought tickets to see Ms. Kylie Minogue on September 30th and October 1st. Kylie, the queen bee, the leader of the tiny tribe, my muse, hero, idol and, I’m assuming, future best friend once we meet in some adorable comedy of errors the day of her show wherein we keep running into each other in downtown Oakland (buying gummi bears at Walgreens, reaching for the same pair of shoes in a shop, and eating at side-by-side tables at a sushi restaurant, in case you were wondering) until we can’t deny that our friendship is destined and ride off on brother-and-sister Shetland ponies together (because we’re small). I’m so excited for it! What should I wear?
At the same time I am shitting happy bricks about seeing Kylie, I am shitting sad bricks from missing my sister. She’s been out of the country for 8 months and THAT IS JUST NOT HOW WE DO THINGS AROUND HERE. What is life when you can’t smush your sister’s face, make blanket/pillow nests and watch “Troop Beverly Hills” together for the millionth time whilst quoting it and each playing different characters, dance to Prince together and then fight with each other about something ridiculous anytime you want to? So I’ve been writing an essay on being a sister and I just sit there and write and cry like Claire Danes in ‘Romeo and Juliet,’ which is to say, loudly, unattractively, and blotchily (I still love you, Claire).
In the middle of the Kylie and the blotchy, I found pictures of Kylie and Dannii Minogue together that totally exemplify sisterhood. They are so bew I could just fart.
Other than that, oh I just have so many things on my plate right now, you guys. I’m organizing an ice cream social for work tomorrow so we can go into the weekend in a blaze of fatty dairy. I’m making felty beards*. I’m working on a secret project. And I’m practicing the theremin quite intensely for my upcoming solo performance entitled: “This Is The Only Way To Outdo The Date Rapist Downstairs.**”
*I found this shop on Etsy and my friend Erin and I are going to try to make our own because $40 is preposterous for a felty beard. Erin was a child prodigy and she can cut things out of paper without drawing them first and they come out perfectly. It’s totally creepy, fascinating, inspiring and amazing. Today she made me a mustache. Check out this motherfucker!
**He plays utter shit at all hours on repeat, so loudly that shit falls off my walls. My favorite is when he starts at midnight, IT’S REALLY A DELIGHT. Passive-aggressive notes in disguised handwriting seem to make no difference at all, either! Isn’t that standard neighbor etiquette?! COME ON.
I recently made a fatal error, you guys. I knew Q-Tip had released a new record at the end of 2008, his first in 9 years, but for some reason I didn’t buy it until 3 weeks ago.
Upon listening to it, I realized my life could have been drastically better for the last 6 months had I just bought the record when it first came out. Colors are brighter, food tastes better! And all other music has been rendered useless and unnecessary! It is called “The Renaissance,” and if you don’t buy it in your preferred format immediately, I have little to say to you from this point on.
As part of my own Q-Tip renaissance (oh! Look what I did there!), I came across this here video, of Q-Tip doing the old classic “Vivrant Thing” live with his majesty PRINCE coming out to do the guitar solo. Check out these two GQ motherfuckers!
Q-Tip also did a couple of fucking great music videos for some of his new songs, including one of my favorites from the record “ManWomanBoogie.” [!!!! Music videos, imagine that! Not that there's anywhere to watch music videos except for on YouTube these days. MTV should have to legally change its name to expel the "Music" part of its acronym, as it expelled all music from its channel years ago in favor of reality shows like 'Road Rules vs. Real World: The Cuntbag Crusade' or whatever the fuck they show now.]
I dig the creepiness of this video. I mean, who wouldn’t follow Q-Tip down the street if they saw him? Once I followed Taylor Hanson after I saw him buying coffee at Dean and Deluca. I don’t even like him, it was just a weird instinct. I forgot my sushi at the counter and the cashier had to yell after me to come get it. I got it and resumed following Taylor Hanson, then got bored after a few blocks. He is pretty. Umm anyway……the Q-tip video!
Another exciting bit of the last few weeks was seeing another pair of underwear, forgotten on the sidewalk. I choose to believe that they were thrown out a window in the throes of passion, rather than the likelier story that they fell out of a laundry basket. That explanation is no fun.
Like I said, that was “another pair.” The first pair was about 2 years ago, it was a pink thong by Walgreens.
But really, all you need to know is that after 5 long years, I’ve finally found knockoffs of my most coveted and favorite Chanel sunglasses of all history. These warlocks are so limited-edish that finding real ones is not even possible for people who would actually spend thousands of dollars on a pair of plastic……but somehow knockoffs are just as hard to find! Today I decided that it was no longer acceptable for me not to have them, so I tracked down a pair of knockoffs.
Behold the Chanel 5018 Half Tints in all their glory:
I will obvs look just as ferocious in them as Mary Kate. My favorite thing about these sunnies is that I could perform surgery whilst looking through the bottom half BUT DO IT ON THE BEACH IN BORA BORA because of the shaded top half! I’ll probably get my identity stolen by the website (like my friend Tracy, who had hers stolen by a cat costume website [well deserved, really]), BUT IT’S WORTH IT!!!!!!!
The first time I saw them I knew nothing about them and had no idea what to expect. How was I to know that walking into the venue WITHOUT a sailor hat would be deeply embarrassing? I spent the next 2 hours enthralled by costume changes, lyrics about erections, and truly talented musicians (despite the nature of their lyrics and their costumes, these dudes can write the fuck out of some songs and play the fuck out of some instruments). I learned my lesson fast and walked out of Webster Hall as a convert, armed with Turbonegro dollars and covered in confetti.
A year later, my heart was crushed when they pulled out of the lineup at Thrasher magazine’s SXSW party. I wasn’t alone; I went to the party anyway and was surrounded by Turbojugend members, wearing their jackets with pride to honor our absent heroes.
The second time I saw them, Lucas and I were prepared – Lucas in his Turbojugend Glasgow jacket and me with my sailor hat. We were befriended instantly by other Turbojugend members who gave us hugs and buttons and insisted we come to the monthly meet-ups. Before the band came on, the projector at Slim’s was rolling old footage of the Dead Kennedys playing. I look to my right and who’s sitting at the bar next to me? Mr. Jello Biafra of the goddamn Dead Kennedys. He snickered and commented to his companion “Oh, I remember that one!” pointing at the screen. MIND BLOWN.
Last night I saw Turbonegro for a third time. Despite my best efforts, Lucas’ Turbojugend jacket just didn’t fit, so I had to ditch it at the last minute. But I spent all day counting down the hours to the show and I WAS READY!
(Mrs.) Joey Dickpants:
The show was brilliant…..fuck me if those guys don’t just get better and better! I settled in with some vodka and watched the mayhem unfold. Hank strutted out wearing a white tuxedo vest with nothing underneath it, a bow tie and cufflinks and a black feather boa. My friend Ally who’s doing their backline was also apparently on wardrobe duty, catching Hank’s boa and running across the stage to grab the sweaty, discarded tuxedo vest and folding it up nicely before returning to tuning guitars. By the time it was all over, the crowd had spilled onto the street, not wanting to leave, singing all the songs we’d just heard. It was almost enough to convince me to drive down to Coachella today……almost. (P.S. Jello was there again last night, looking happy as a pig in shit!)
Happy birthday! You are the queen bee and I love you. Our birthdays are 10 days apart (err, and a few years). Today I booked a trip to Nashville, which is the best way I can think to honor you.
Maybe we could have tea and crumpets while I’m there! Can you teach me how to write songs, sing and make my hair as big as yours? You are the queen of all this and more. Here’s to 74 more years!
Love,
It’s Lexi, Ma’am! (I wouldn’t dare to swear around you.)
(I am NOT cheating on Kylie, she’s the Australian Queen.)
A Loretta classic:
The first time I heard this song, my eyes popped out of my head. Not unlike Wile E. Coyote when Bugs Bunny dresses in drag!
Most of you, at some point over the last miserable 8 years, have probably wondered “What would Mos Def do if he were president?” Give us health care and breakfast, that’s what. Check it out:
Umm, yes please. Since the mighty Mos is a little late to put in his bid for this election, maybe Obama can give him an appointment in the cabinet! That’s after making me the Secretary of Small Things, obvs.
Also, Neil Young is my new BFF, it’s a semi-long story but he played a riff specifically, privately and personally at my facehole last Sunday and in some cultures that’s a marriage ritual, but since I’m in a committed relashe, we’re just going to be BFFs. Then he cancelled his show in LA because the union is on strike and he was like “HELL NO, WE WON’T GO” and called them his brothers and sisters and since I was raised on protests and chants and have never/will never cross a picket line, it reaffirmed our friendship. Love you, Neil, call me and we’ll go hang out with Mos Def, ok?
You may wonder why I am posting at 11pm on Halloween, my favorite holiday. Surely I should be at a party in a ridiculous costume, dancing to Biggie and posing in the background of strangers’ photos! Desafortunadamente, I’m totes sick and have been residing on my couch for the last 5 days. I am severely bummed. Dressing up is my favorite thing IN THE WORLD.
Things I have missed this week:
-2 Girl Talk shows at the Fillmore.
-A good bro-down with DS.
-A second viewing of “Man on Wire,” the best movie I’ve seen this year.
-5 parties tonight and a sleepover with Julia featuring our specialties: hot dogs, lava cakes, Judd Apatow movies, and filming each other dancing drunk.
-The chance at a $300 prize in my work’s costume contest. I would have OWNED THAT SHIT, but couldn’t because I also missed….
-My chance to dress up like Lucille Ball, a deer (complete with black buttcrack-looking tail and cardboard hooves and maybe real antlers if my tiny peanut head could withstand the weight), or Aladdin Sane-era David Bowie.
Trent Reznor has decided to thank us for all of our years of support by giving us yet another free album. You can choose your format and download it in about 30 seconds. I feel like I owe him a free album now…? I’m going to start the “Thank You, Trent” movement so that we can thank him in the way that he’s thanked us. That means everyone who downloads this should open up Garage Band and just fucking have at it. I’m sure he’ll be very grateful!
I’ve been a huge NIN fan for years and have had the great fortune to see them play many times. Each show was incredible, whether in an arena or in a small venue. Most recently, I saw Trent perform with just a piano, eggshaker and a string quartet for the Bridge School Benefit just over 2 years ago. It moved me to tears and was just so beautiful I can’t even describe it. Additionally, I once saw Trent buying bananas at the tiny general store in Big Sur while he was writing “The Fragile.” Even though I was a starstruck teenager, I knew to leave him alone, lest those bananas end up somewhere uncomfortable like my poor asshole.
