Really Tom Waits...does being that cool give you lower back pain?

My man just finished doing a track, "Make it Rain", on Letterman and he just re-reminded me how goddamn fierce he is.

It just seems so effortless--his Waitness. He comes on the Letterman, chats with old David, just witty as hell, does a song and is just soooooo cool. Yeah, I'm fawning, but the man deserves this kind of adoration.

I have nothing more to say, I just wanted to pass that along. God bless the Tom Waits, bless his crazy ass self.

Sidenote:
Got caught up on my Netflix tonight...a few comments.

The Station Agent-Great. Patricia Clarkson, smooth as hell voice, feel her. Peter Dinklage...he is a fine ass man. Must say, when he rocks the goatee he is a foxier drawf, no for real, check it out. Don't hate on little people, it will make you fat and people will make fun of you because the obese get more grief than dwarves and midgets, for real. The flick is touching...two little thumbs up.

The Girl Next Door-Was expected to not feel this movie but I was hella amused. Blondes bore me to tears but Elisha Cuthbert was a delight...and Emile Kirsch, would totally spoon him, cute as a button. Oh and the dude that plays a porn producer, Timothy Olyphant, foxier than the Dinklage, love a sleazy man. Oh yeah, I feel no need to breakdown what the movie is about...check out allmovie.com or just throw caution to the wind and rent it...you'll giggle and giggling is the new therapy, much cheaper playas and less fucking drama.

I'm officially old because...

...I just called into KEXP.ORG during their pledge drive to give some ducats. Yep, if I drove and had a car I would be putting a "Support Your Local Independent Radio Station" bumper sticker on it. For real though...check em out and give em some love...in the form of some greenbacks! Like I said before, ain't nothing cooler than hearing A Tribe Called Quest back to back with Social Distortion...it's a good look y'all.

Racism Smacism

Let me tell you something...went to Denny's yesterday when I was visiting my moms in Cali and I got to say, I fucking miss the Grand Slam Breakfast. Can we just say that some pancakes, 2 sausage links, 2 pieces of bacon (cause you can never have enough pork) and two eggs for $3.39 is fucking genius! I mean sweet Jesus...what a bargain and it is so great. Now yeah, Denny's was tripping with my people back in the day...and probably still are (shit, they will never get to that Cracker Barrel level of racism) but goddamn if I'm not still salivating over that meal. Really if you had seen my mom, my aunt and myself just overwhelmed by the fact that the whole meal with $19.31 you would have thought we were touched in the head...it was that deep. So go for it...call me the "N" word, look at me sideways when I walk in...just give me my cheap ass grub so I can be satisfied when I'm filing that multimillionaire lawsuit. Big up Denny's!

"I am a nightmare walking...psychopath talking..."

As many of you might already know, because I was running my m0uth about it incessantly, I was just in Los Angeles to see the Pixies...yeah, I was there, it was cool, what you going to do about it?

Let me set the stage. My lovely friend Shari (the white gal that I mentioned in a previous post who tripped over not getting water and banana bread in a timely fashion at B Bar) got us tickets to see these LEGENDS at the Greek Theatre. We went with Tony (I fucking heart dude!) their boy Lou and it was just glorious! Outdoor ampitheater, chili dogs and frozen lime margaritas, what more do you need?! In addtion to that we saw Jason Biggs in line to get his grub on and Danny Masterson and Bijou Phillips in the VIP section acting like they even know how to spell Trompe Le Monde...the highlight of that being Shari turning to me and saying, and this is in regards to Bijou Phillips, "That is a bitch that deserves to be donkey punched." Uh huh, she said "donkey punched". Of course I turned to Tony to make sure we got the correct description of the DP and that if it would be appropriate for the Bijou. The final answer is that she deserved it. Hell, it's not like she got anything else going for her at the moment...might as well rock that.

As you can imagine it was FABULOUS to see the Pixies in this setting, and I had a grand old time, but I have to admit that I did enjoy the Coachella show better...maybe it was because it was the FIRST time that I had EVER seen them...or maybe seeing and hearing 30,000 fools singing "Debaser" together just blows my skirt up...who knows. Moral of the story, they were on their B+ game but it was awesome and they will ALWAYS blow away any of the other youngsters that are coming out today. End scene.

Okay, but this is when it gets all sorts of Mi Vida Loca/Colors...

About two-thirds through the set a Phish looking fan...let's call him Ian...was about a row away from a young Mexican gent...let's call him Jesus... asked young Jesus if he would stop smoking...smoking in an outdoor amphitheater. Well Jesus was really not that responsive to that request. Well when Ian, ponytail and all, sat back down Jesus blew smoke right in his direction and then proceeded to flick his lit cig at the head of Ian. Ian gets up...gets all up in his grill and says he's getting a security guard. Shari and I were like SNAP...we started to look to see if there were any teardrops on Jesus' face and just waiting for shots to ring out and/or a shiv to come out. Yeah, we were kicking the stereotypes. A cigerette was thrown--all bets are off. Hold on though, it's about to get real sexy.

A lady guard comes over (yeah, that was going to go nowhere fast, sorry to not have faith in my female brethren, but come on now!--oh yeah, I'm bring back "lady" hard) tries to talk to Jesus and thuglife grabs his FULL glass of beer and throws it at Ian. Okay, I'm not supporting this but I've got to give props to Jesus for have amazing trajectory skills. First he nails dude perfectly with the cig and then not only hits sport with the beer but his friend next to him. I was like you need to take it down to at least 7 brother but BRAVO! At that point lady was like fuck that noize and gets two other guards...one being some big ass enforcer...we will call him Rodrigo. Rodrigo was not having it and Jesus and his friend were soon out. At this point me and crew were kinda disappointed because we knew if this had gone down in New York shit would have gotten REAL ugly and would have made for a better story. (Mind you Tony was all sorts of amped to start throwing shit at Ian and wreck shop.) On the other hand this happened at...THE PIXIES! How random is that?! I mean, a few more minutes it might have been some gangland drama in the middle of Kim Deal giving out a "big, big love" so it does make for an amusing tale... and that is why I am sharing this.

So here are the final points:

1) Seeing a show outdoors in great weather is cool...even cooler if it's the Pixies. Did I mention that I was there? Oh I think I did...

2) The Pixies might soon rival Morrissey with their Mexican fanbase in the Los Angeles area. For real, when Frank busted out the Spanish that is sprinkled throughout some of their jams it was a motherfucking multicultural singalong. Word.

3) Don't EVER asked someone to stop smoking at the Greek Theater...you might get cut.

4) Bijou Phillips looks like the kind of girl you would "donkey punch".

Can't wait to see the group when they hit the NYC. If someone is not thrown over the balcony of the Hammerstein it really won't be worth the face value of the tickets I purchased.

Yellow is just not my color

Big up to Lance Armstrong and his program to assist those (and their families) living with cancer but if I see one more yellow LIVESTRONG wrist band I will have to take a hostage. It's a heinous color and it doesn't compliment my skintone...I wish it was in black. See black goes with everything and if you have fat wrists it will make them look skinny. Yes, I know that the color yellow has somekind of significant meaning, I just want some options, m'kay? I mean fuck, is there anyone else out there that feels the way I do?! I'm totally not hating on this cause at all because that would make me SO cuntastic and even I couldn't be that crass but shit...it's UGLY! These are the new red ribbons and that is not cute. Just something I wanted to share. Let the abuse begin...

Black folks are just not that crafty...

This morning Aron Ralston, the young chap that amputated his OWN arm when an 800 pound boulder fell on it when he was hiking, was on CNN American Morning to promote his book on the experience, 'Between a Rock and a Hard Place'. Um...I could just riff for DAYS about what a wack title this is and clearly so fucking obvious that a retarded Somalian child with no teeth and one eye could have come up with it but I won't. Dude went through enough shit and is apparently smart enough to KNOW how to safely cut himself out of the situation so I'm going to sit on my snarkiness...but y'all know what I'm thinking.

My point for bringing this up...beyond it just being disturbingly badass...is this...a negro would not have pulled this off.

Let me begin...

First off most people of the sun have no desire to hike, no way, no day. I mean, yes, I have been hiking, shit I've been camping a few times but I was raised around a lot of white people in Santa Cruz so that is bound to happen by osmosis. Shit, put me in a convertible Cabriolet with some fools on a road trip and I will sing Toto's "Hold the Line" louder than any of my white brethren, it's call conditioning...but I digress.

Second, most of my people don't carry tools around when they are walking around, specfically hiking tools, remember, we don't hike. There is nothing pithy to say here...just a fact. An extra bottle of Tabisco sauce maybe, but tools, nope. No tools means you can't cut off an arm. Sorry.

Third, I don't think we could work through the pain. I'm sorry, there are too many stories of white folks being in fucked up situations where they work through the pain and get to the point of enlightenment and euphoria and just survive. That is some mind over matter, aligning your chakras kind of deal that most black folks have not had the privilage to learn. When you are trying to fight the man day in and day out...and trying to circumvent the obviously racist system that we live in there is not much time to take a lot of yoga and meditation classes. And don't get bent out of shape here! I'm not ignoring the back backing pain my black ancestors went though back in the day...or African women in the bush having babies while carrying another baby on her back and carrying a 200 pound jug of water on her head...don't go writing a nasty e-mail, not going to have it! We aren't talking about that...it's the here and now playa!

Fourth thing...It would just take up too much time with that sawing off your own arm--skin, bone, tendon, et al. We would need at least a good 7 or 8 days to curse God and the powers that be in our day to day life before thinking of what the fuck to do. We like to bitch and moan FOREVER. By the time that shit is all worked out you and Carol Ann are walking towards the white light together.

Fifth--In case you missed it before...WE DON'T HIKE and sure as hell not going to after what happened to young buck here!

Moral of the story...Aron is straight thug and therefore probably the blackest person out there today. 50 Cent ain't got nothing on you boo. You and that hook of yours better work! That will to live thing is kinda fierce...I think I'm just too lazy. Hey, if you put an open bar and Gael Garcia Bernal on the other side of the boulder I might be able to work some shit out though...

Who's a gangsta now Kirk Cameron?!

Tracey Gold In Felony DUI Bust
Son, 7, hurt after "Growing Pains" actress rolled SUV
SEPTEMBER 13--Actress Tracey Gold, who starred in TV's "Growing Pains" and famously went public with her anorexia battle, was arrested earlier this month for drunk driving after rolling her SUV--carrying her husband and three young boys--down a California freeway embankment, The Smoking Gun has learned. The 35-year-old Gold is pictured below in a Ventura County Sheriff's Office mug shot obtained by TSG. Gold was busted by California Highway Patrol officers and charged with a felony count of driving under the influence causing injury. According to a CHP spokesman, Gold was driving a 2001 GMC Yukon on Route 118 on September 3 when she lost control of the vehicle. While Gold's husband and two of her sons (ages five and four months) were not seriously injured in the late-night crash, the actress's oldest child, 7-year-old Sage, suffered a broken clavicle and a head laceration. After CHP officers administered sobriety tests, Gold was arrested on the DUI charge, said CHP spokesman Steve Reid. Booked under her married name, Tracey Gold Marshall, the actress spent five hours in the Ventura lockup before being released on $50,000 bail. She is scheduled for an October 19 appearance in Superior Court.

Okay...drunk driving is not cool at all but dammit if Tracey Gold is not totally rawk at this moment! I'm telling ya...years of anorexia will fuck up your contitution. If those punks at "Growing Pains" had not made fun of the Gold for so many years about her weight this would not have happened. Yeah, you heard me Jeremy Miller..better yet, Ben Seaver, this is your fault bitch! The E! True Hollywood Story spelled it all out...

God speed Trace!

My time on Earth almost ended Wednesday night...

...when I opened my mailbox and saw Gael Garcia Bernal on the cover of Time Out New York. There is a good chance that I will be signing up for intensive Spanish lessons and moving to Mexico City. Hopefully I will be able to continue my blogging days from there...

For real, there ain't a prettier young man around (shut up, Johnny Depp is still the bee's knees but dude is over 40 now and there is a new sheriff in town). Most of these young bucks in today's acting game need to roll with Senor Bernal, watch how the truly sexy carry on and just cry...because they will NEVER have it themselves! If he don't watch out he is going to hurt someone by just existing. Lord have mercy...his parents must be thanked.

Oh yeah, he's a great actor too...but we will talk about that when The Motorcycle Diaries and Bad Education come out. And then we will reflect on his brillant performance in Amoros Perros. Now it's just time to be shallow and pornographic towards the lad...and I mean that in the most respectful way. See I'm doing my part for NAFTA.

Greg Dulli...I hardly knew ye!

I'm going to put this out first...was never a big Afghan Whigs fan back in the day (I JUST bought 'Gentlemen' about 3 months ago) but I respected the Dulli and the rest of the gang because they were clumped in that Replacements, Mudhoney realm and I grew up in a town with an amazing college radio station (KZSC...holla at the UC Santa Cruz banana slugs!). That being, late last year I got into Greg Dulli's post Whigs project, The Twilight Singers, kinda like his version of what Josh Homme does with the Desert Sessions, but I digress. When I was digesting it I was like damn, old chap has got some feeling in those chops of his and hell let me work some back catalog action now...after that got the above mentioned Whigs album and it was on.

Well now it has been taken to a new level. The latest Twilight Singers album, 'She Loves You' , not only boasts my man Mark Lanagan (if you care anything about amazing vocals on an ferious rock track check out Queen of the Stone Age's "A Song for the Dead"...he massacres it) but it also boasts a collection of the most eclectic covers ever. Dulli covers everything from Bjork ("Hyperballard"...trust, me it works) to Mazzy Star (sans the shoe gazing) to Nina Simone (for real, black is the color of true love's hair) and so much more. What laid me out was his cover, along with Mark Lanagan's backing vocals, of "Real Love"...yeah, that "Real Love" the Mary J. "I got cut in the face and don't want to talk about it" Blige one that had you knowing all about the 411! Indie rocker says what? Let me tell you I was as shocked at as the next fool but goddammit if it doesn't work well as a mid tempo rock ditty that could would have fit perfectly in an episode of "My So Called Life". Seriously, I totally picture it being played when Brian "Crackhouse" Krakow is about to tell Angela Chase how he truly feels about her. If it HAD I swear she would not have left with Jordan Catalano during the series finale and rolled with the boy that was going to treat her right, but when you are 15 you want to be treated like shit. Wow, I almost teared up there...that was THE show and there will NEVER ever be another teen show so fucking gut wrenching. Back to the subject at hand...

A few years ago I found a live version of the Afghan Whigs covering Prince's "I Could Never Take the Place of Your Man" and they took it home and back. There is lot of soul in the Dulli...don't let the melonin fool you. And when I say soul I'm not talking about the "Wow, he sound like he's all colored and whatnot", no, I'm talking about the kind of soul where you just get it...you ain't trying to be anything but what you are and just get IT...that might friends is real soul, and my man is working it out.

There is also a Marvin Gaye cover "Please Stay (Once You Go Away)" in which the backing vocals have that old school shimmy/do wop vibe...subtle but you feel it and you know that you are dealing with musicians that love music and give it back like they got when they fell in love with that shit back in the day.

Anyhoo, it ain't that deep...but popping in this album made me happy and you got to love some white boys that give Mary her dues...this ain't no ironic indie rock bullshit, it's an homage.

On the cover tip: Angela McCluskey of "Breathe" fame (that breezy track that was all up in that Mitsubishi commercial awhile back) released an album in May titled 'The Things We Do' that has a cover of The The's "Love Is Stronger Than Death". This is one of my favorite songs in the canon of modern music and when Matt Johnson sang it I was like okay, you are probably right, it seems pretty strong. When Ms. McCluskey takes it on I'm NOT doubting her at all. Baby girl makes it her own. If you want to get your download on--check out more of her vocals off of the Telepopmusik album 'Generic World' and go right to "Love Can Damage Your Health"...just sexy as all get out...nothing else needs to be discussed.

Mama needs a drank...

Let me begin this by saying that giving fools a three day weekend can be a little extra...but I do love it so. This is what went down on the last day.

On Monday Adrienne, Latasha and my girl Shari and I went to get our brunch on at B-Bar because:
1) It was a glorious day
2) I was in the mood for a garden setting
3) We were taking it back to the old skool. They used to have an all you can drank brunch which was so whimsical and carefree...and whatever else you get when you are drinking me-mosas in the afternoon. Now they only have a two drank special...I like to think we are part of the reason they discontinued it. Years ago a throng of us pretty much almost drank Stingy Lulu's in the ground with their brunch deal...I'm sure word spread, we are groundbreakers. That is a different blog post.

Anyway, it was bound to be a grand day when we didn't get the lovely banana bread that is part of the prix-fixe brunch IMMEDIATELY and Shari, in her outdoor voice, says, "Where's that bitch where are bread and water...I'm hungry." See, when black people don't get food when needed it is ugly and can get 'Boyz in the Hood' like when not taken care of. It's a straight up blood sugar issue, you got to recognize. Now mind you, Shari is not black, but she was with us negress' and therefore she is one by osmosis...she also gets down with tragic mulattos so it's all gravy. Man, I'm going to miss that girl...she is moving to LA and I need a moment to come to terms with it...5,4,3,2,1...okay, I'm cool now. That is my bitch right there.

Well once we were fed and no longer willing to chew through our waitress' ankles the conversation turned to the ad campaign going on in the city trying to get gay men not to do crystal meth. I'm so not down with the kids anymore because I had no idea the pink posse were doing hillbilly heroin, and enough to warrent postering about it all over the damn place...go figure. I mean the meth seems to be so unfabulous to me and therefore not within the parameters of that world but who am I to judge. Live and twirl. This turned into talk of falling into "k-holes", crack and then Latasha and I arguing about what is more complicated to do...crack or heroin. Me, I say heroin, tying off and injected some shit is just TOO extra and messy...because when you think crack ya think CLEAN! This was all done right next to a table of a family that looked more than mortified and were ready to clutch the pearls at any moment because of their young daughter. Hell, I say let princess listen in...if they make one false move with their parenting techniques little lady could be sucking the glass dick before she hits her first training bra. But that is just me being a realist. And the thought of it just makes me chuckle! Addicition is he-larious!

After the brunch LT, Adrienne and I head to St. Marks Place to buy some cheap ass sunglasses...Ad-Roc (that would Adrienne) wanted some big old shades so I was just tickled mauve making her try shit on. When that got to be too much of a laugh riot we left and as we mosied down the street I saw blinged out "jewels". One of the necklaces was an "iced" out revolved on a dookie chain. I turn to Adrienne and say, "Look at the bling bling gun" and her being the social worked that she is says, "That is just appalling". Well the 50ish or 60ish Asian man that worked the stand that didn't know hardly a lick of english busts out, "Bling, bling gun. G-UNIT!!" LT just looked at me and said, "I have to walk away" and Adrienne and I LOST it! Lost it like no human should lose it. And let me tell you, old dude was amused at us being amused.

After that we went to Delancey Lounge because after a long 30 minutes of trying on cheap sunglasses and laughing at immigrants trying to master the english language another tail of cock was needed and dammit...we were just spent. Now the DL has a lovely rooftop bar with a glorious Koi pond, and you know when you are trying to get your happy hour on there is nothing better than wildlife and friends to make everything all warm and fuzzy. What could possibly break this, and make ya think you are a holic, is when folks at the next table start staring and ask if you were just at the B-Bar doing the same thing. The answer is yes and mind your bizness, you about to ruin the taste of sweet vodka going down my throat.

As that lovely moment died down the wonderfully blonde and sweet as speckled pup Dawn showed up, told us some scandelous tales and we ended un in the B-Burg. FYI, we has lost the Shari so we had to pick up another sassy white gal because we're democrats, we're diverse and we do our part for the war effort. Anyhoo we hit this fabulous 24 hour diner called Anytime. Besides have great mozzarella sticks the real fabulousness was unvailed when our lovely concaved faced waiter told us about the $1 drink deal that goes on from 5pm to 9pm EVERYDAMNDAY, um yeah. And that deal would include any drink that is either Bacardi, Skyy, and some whiskey I have never heard of based. M'wow, thanks for asking. We sipped, we snacked it was straight up International House of Coffee like, but without the caffeine and that female bonding bullshit.

Now the last two things that happened just tied the evening together like glitter and glue. On the way home to Clinton Hill (LT and myself) and Bed-Stuy (Ad-Roc getting her do or die on) it began as the usual...Latasha road raging and me laughing my ass out about it. Really, you get to get in the car with her it's like Vice City straight up...except I know I'm not going to die, just whatever fool crosses her. Well we hit a street in the Hill and this older woman starts giving Latasha the eye and waving at her...okay, this lady has about 2 or 3 kids getting in her car looking way more than matronly and basically like one of my aunts...but it got real lesbianic real quick. Latasha looks over at me and was like, "I think that bitch is hitting on me" and I point and start laughing. Why? Cause I'm classy. Once we roll past the "L-Word" we head to Bed-Stuy where out of nowhere a motorcycle goes flying by us with the usual big booty ho on the back "Ruff Ryders" style. This time though old gal has got a white mini skirt on that is flying up in the air to reveal her nasty ass red thong and cellulite inflicted ass. Celluite, not a problem, but please don't show it to me on the back of a bike. Again, something we DIDN'T expect, could not handle and realized that it was a wrap and time to go the hell home. G-UNIT indeed!

The moral of the story is this...there is none. Labor day Monday was fun as hell after an action packed weekend and it made me realize once again that I love crazy ass New York. So I went home, watched Public Enemy "Fight the Power" on the BET Awards, hit the sack bed and dreamed of one day owning a bling, bling revolver pendent and riding off into the sunset with my drawers showing. Really, God Bless America.

When Labias Attack!

Have you ever wondered what you could get that special lady in your life that has everything? Well wonder no more...you can get her a labia reduction! Um yeah, I said it, a labia reduction.

Let me back up a bit. Remember when I spoke of going to see Margaret Cho? Well on that fateful night my pal Jim was flipping through a entertainment guide for lesbians (because gay men always want to know what their vagina loving brethren are up to!) and in the back of the guide there was an advert for plastic surgery for labias. Basically they were pimping "pussy lifts". Before I go on any further I have to just let this out...WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT ABOUT?! I'm sure not a fan of recreational plastic surgery--hell, if my boobs drop in future I MIGHT consider a lift but this though is just stupid and it proves how far this "self-improvement" kick has gone in this god forsaken land of ours.

Now I have read about how women get this surgery because having BIG OL' lips makes it uncomfortable to sit, bike, wear tight clothing (?!) and have intercourse...but one thing that keeps being brought up over and over again is the shame of having an elongated labia. All I got to say is bullshit! Okay, who in the Gael Garcia Bernal is telling these lassies that their pussy lips are too big? I mean, come on. And who is to say that one's vagina and it's "accessories" are NOT the right size? Is there some kind of requirement because I didn't hear about it from my high school health classes, my mama or my gyno.

I will be damned if some dude did not come up with this "procedure" cause I'm telling you no broad thought this up. Picture it, some "playboy" is with his lady trying to work it out and he looks up and thinks, "Damn, this is taking a little too much of my time, if only I could pin back old girl's excess labia skin it would be all good...shit, cut it off, it would be slicker and mad aerodynamic. Fuck, let me call my old man, he's a plastic surgeon and we can figure out a way to let women know they "disfigured" with this little "handicap". Sweet, another reason for the ladies to hate themselves...this is awesome, I'm totally going to get a Nobel Prize for this!" For real, I'm sure it went down pretty close to like that.

The moral of the story is this...if you have some kind of 90 foot long labia that is inflammed and actually speaks to you maybe this IS for you but if not just let it go. No one has the right to make anyone feel bad because they have a "BIG" labia...and hell, it shouldn't be investigated that hard in the first place. There are a million more things to deal with in your life...your job, your personal life, your family, et al...not this. I just feel that if you treat your labia right it will treat you right in return and what more can you ask for.

Taking it back to the old skool like an old fool

I'm having a golden oldies moment right now so humor Mama as she goes through it. All of the songs that I'm just living and twirling to tonight I have been doing such to for ages but for some reason I'm really feeling em tonight...has to be the residual humidity from this weekend. Here we go:

1) "Gimme Shelter"-The Rolling Stones
This has been my song for I don't know how long but I really, really didn't get into it until my dear Santa Cruz friend Rannvi (yeah she is 6'1" and Swedish, what you know about that?!) introduced me the vast world of Merry Clayton*, the back-up singer on this track. "Gimme Shelter" is just a great down and dirty rock track but it would not be near as classic as it is if it was not for Ms. Clayton's knee-shaking, testifying backing vocals on this track. Now on CD or cassette is is great, but on vinyl it is BRILLANT. In this format it is crystal clear when my girl scream at the top of her lungs, "rape and murder" and then you hear Mick in the background bark out "Whoo!" (his version of telling honey chile to "work it out"). Rumor has it that she was "sanging" so hard that she miscarried in the studio. Mariah, Whitney, Christina, you have been straight served. Aside from Merry tearing it up it is just an ominous and sexy track that holds the hell up and dammit I'll say it...the best rock song ever.

2) "Once in a Lifetime" (live)-Talking Heads
Okay, this is the track...done, but listen to the live version on the Talking Heads 2-CD set from 77-79 and 80-81 that was just re-released and REALLY appreciate bassist Tina Weymouth. You can skip the part about Tina being a good female bassist and try to put her in some Kim Gordon, Kim Deal catagory...the hell with that. My gurl holds this song down as only a GREAT player could and it grooves harder than the studio version. Ms. Tina was on some Brothers Johnson (specifically Louis Johnson) type shit and she needs to be felt heavily for that. The opening of the song is worth complete adoration and by the time it ends she has broken it down, built it back up and put a damn bow on it. And there is no need to get deep about how fierce and crazy David Byrne sounds on this song. I don't care what kind of world music tip he is on now (mad respect for him championing ethnic artists and trying to bring them to the forefront) the man held it down and did his own thing.

3) Dionne Warwicke-"Don't Make Me Over" & "I Say a Little Prayer"
This woman's voice is like damn velvet. All I have to say is that her and Burt Bacharach had to be doing it in the 60's cause he wrote old girl some jams. These are some "You are my boo and I'm going to write you some hits" songs right here. When you listen to them you are like, "Shit, don't make her over, she is good enough as she is" and hell, "I'm going to say a little prayer for you to find some love darling...cause you singing your heart out about it!" Don't EVER underestimate the Bacharach/Warwicke connection...it is tight.

4) 10cc-"I'm Not in Love"
Let me give you a lyrical sampling:
I'm not in love, so don't forget it/It's just a silly phase I'm going through. /And just because I call you up, don't get me wrong, don't think you got it made./(chorus)/I'd like to see you but then again, that doesn't mean you mean that much to me.

Shit, brother, you could try and sugarcoat it a little for your ladyfriend! Regardless, brutal as the song is I heart it. Damn...

Now it's time for me to get back to my rocker.

*Check out Merry doing back-up on "Sweet Home Alabama" and "Feelin' Alright"...she takes it to church!