What got me moving this morning

1) "I Never" by Rilo Kiley. I was so wanting to hate this band cause of the HYPE MACHINE vibe but they got me with this track. Ms. Jenny Lewis kills it with this country tinged number about loving a man she never thought she would and wanting to buy property with him. If that ain't something that doesn't speak to a New Yorker that wants to own in this city I don't know what does. Also, the string arrangements on this ditty are as smooth as butter.

2) Since we're here..."Does He Love You?" another tender little morsel by the RK. In this one Ms. Lewis spins a yarn about a love that her and a young man have...a man that ends up getting married and having a baby with another lass but still loves her. Yeah, gets you right there in the gut. Lyrics are great, music is flawless...I give this tune a lot of love.

3) Bill Hemmer for looking just super cute today on CNN American Morning. I just want to either put him in a curio cabinet or...well, let me work that out on my own clock.

4) Figuring out where I'm going to put the photo that I purchased from my new pal, Derrick Gomez, in my apartment. For real folks, this dude is an AMAZING photographer and a sweet dude to boot. Check out his stuff at: http//www.derrickgomez.com.

5) Jamming out to part of the George Michael 2-disc collection that came out ages ago. Okay, I'm surprised GM didn't hurt nobody with the song "Fastlove" cause I almost busted my ass this morning working out some choreography to it!

This man was a radio pioneer and had tremendous tastes in music...pay your respects!

Rest in Peace...


Veteran British broadcaster John Peel dies in Peru (Adds details)
LIMA, Peru, Oct 26 (Reuters) - Veteran British disc jockey and broadcaster John Peel has died in Peru while on holiday in the ancient Inca city of Cuzco, his employer the British Broadcasting Corporation and the British embassy said on Tuesday.
"He passed away. We don't have any details. We received a phone call at 4 a.m. from his brother to inform us," said Jonathan Clare, an embassy official in Lima.
The BBC in London said Peel was on a working holiday in Cuzco with his wife, Sheila. There was no other comment from the BBC.
Peel, born in 1939, was one of Britain's original pirate radio disc jockeys in the 1960s, broadcasting from ships anchored just outside British waters that won huge followings. Peel was his assumed "pirate" name.
In the late 1970s he championed punk rock to the consternation of many of his radio contemporaries who were still playing rock supergroups - and were convinced the new music fad would never had any real impact.
Peel - an authority on independent music - was honoured as an Order of the British Empire.

Yes, they took it to church

Thursday night I went to see the mighty, mighty Reverend Al Green and the marvelous Mavis Staples at the Apollo. And oh yes, it felt like the hand of God touched my brow and showed me the light. For real, sounds extra but if you have never seen the likes of the Rev. Green you really won't be able to feel me on this one.

I had never seen Ms. Staples before but I was aware of the Staples Singles oeuvre so I was pretty damn excited for her performance...and old girl did not let me down. Her band looked like a wedding band, which for some reason I found to be quite endearing and fantabulous. She sang her heart the hell out and was "moved" many times. Well I'm pretty sure it was "movement" because she would start pacing back and forth across the stage when there was a break in the song, or after it done, and would start shaking her hands. She was walking like a panther, and that is always a good look. Oh yeah, she was wearing a sequined top...my lovely, and dearly departed grandmother, hand to heaven, would have worn the same kind of top on a trek to Red Lobster so I was extra thrilled by the costume selection.

Soon after Mavis paved the way, The Reverend (yes, I will refer to him now only as The Reverend...if Madonna can be called Madonna, I believe The Reverend is more than valid, thanks for playing) came out and showed em all how it is DONE.

Now I have seen The Reverend about 4 times now but it is always a pleasure to see him come out in a FULL white suit with a bevy of red roses lined up on a piano to pass out to the ladies. Uh huh, he passes them out...one by damn one. And in case you were wondering, The Reverend has two back-up dancers. Two young men, I think they are like nephews...and yes, they do costume changes. Please don't hate the playa, don't even hate his damn game...The Reverend once had hot grits thrown in his face by a former "lady friend" during a fight (during his freebasing days)...so when you come out of something like that, you can do whatever the hell you want to do. Since I'm on the dancing tip let me just share this part. The Reverend not only was kicking some old school cheoreography but he would drop down to his knees when he really had a "point" to make. Do your thang daddy, do your thang. If only his manservent had come out with cape to drape over him would I had shed a tear...my lip quivered so that is something.

Dancers aside, my man, and his band were tight as hell. The band just knew they were working some shit out, maybe not enough for The Reverend because every 5 minutes he was telling them to "slow it down just a little more"...oh he's dramatic that Reverend! They slowed it, they broke it down, they brought it back up...shit, I think they might have flipped it and reversed it a few times if I'm not mistaken.

Now the high, high, highlight for me was when he did "Simply Beautiful". Honey, please just take a moment out of your day to listen to this song. Let me help you out. It's on the I'm Still in Love With You album (his best if you ask me, even if you don't ask me, I will let you tell you such, yeah, I'm a giver)...track 5 if you want to get there quicker. That song kills me EVERY DAMN TIME. And if you want to mix it up try and find the live version that Mike Patton does with Fantomas...Mr. Patton is always hurting feeling cause he is that good. But let me get back to giving The Reverend his dues.

My only fault with the show was that I felt like it was too short, but you know what, my man has been and continues to be the supreme Soul Singer (yeah, I capped it, what?!) of the last 30 plus years so if he needs to make one more hour in the day his "me" time I ain't mad. And since I was hungry as hell I was not that mad when it was done...we hit Lenox Lounge* and grubbed.

In summation, thank you Reverend Al Green...you are a legend and to be able to see and listen to you in person is an honor. Kids respect, if not, you will not have a place on my raft when the damn flood comes.

**Not only was the food good at the Lenox Lounge but there was a woman fronting an R&B cover band. This is not the important part. The important part was that was wearing a Christmas themed sweater, a jaunty chapeau and her arm was in a sling. I'm not asking any questions just giving a shout out cause sometimes you just need to.

Maybe it's just me...

...but is anyone else a little scurred to get the new Elliott Smith album? I heard it a few months ago on-line and I was like damn...this is some final farewell shit right here.

The song, "Pretty (Ugly Before)", is just one of those songs where you think you are going to just lose it right then and there...it's just not fair. Hell, the whole album is a Kleenex grabbing moment. And let's be real with each other, before Mr. Smith passed away the majority of his work had a cry for help vibe to them, so this is nothing new. In this case it feels like you just came across a suicide note that you weren't supposed to see--but can't stop looking at because yer on the quest for a tiny glimmer into the psyche of what makes "the victim" tick.

So this the deal...don't think the album solves any problem about what really went down but this is just a warning...you on meds, get insane PMS or anything of that ilk listen to From a Basement on the Hill at your own discretion.

Brody Dalle, I ain't mad at ya gurl!

Today's MAJOR obession is The Distillers album, Coral Fang. At the moment it is the third time that I have listened to this today...and twice last night after that coma inducing thing I would like to call the presidential Debates.

Now when I first heard of Ms. Brody Dalle (at the time Mrs. Brody Armstrong) and the boys in the band I thought she was just Tim Armstrong's old lady and he saved her from a shrimp on the barbie existence in Australia to live the life of tattoos and Bud on these great shores of ours. But then a funny thing happened...

Yesterday I was listening to (shout out) indie 101.3 on-line (LA station) and the song "Drain the Blood" came on and was like, "What the fuck?! Is this The Distillers and am I having an absolute moment of rawk right now?" By the time the song ended I was like, oh yeah, I'm having a moment...and for Gael's sake the hype machine was right! We got a winner. Okay, yeah, I'm about a year after the fact with this revelation but I march to the beat of my own damn drummer so feel free to kiss my well shaped black ass. For real, it's pretty awesome...I enjoy it a lot.

So then what do I do but take myself over to Virgin Megastore and buy the bad boy...hoping that it was not just that one song I liked. And hand over heart when I listened to it all the way through, without thinking of skipping a song, I wanted to write the band and thank them because in this day and age that is rare. I mean I don't know how many times I've spent 15 bucks on some shit and then peddled that mess to Sounds hoping I could make a few clams back. Motherfuckers will rob you with this thing they want to call music just having a "single" or two on an album and then some other bullshit! Oh wait...she is about to break it down right now...I love this part of song 6...I'm scurred of you gurl, work it the fuck out but don't hurt yourself!

Okay, I'm back. So because of this moment of clarity I have not decided not to hate Brody for leaving Tim Armstrong (to this day I STILL love Operation Ivy and have mad respect for Rancid), after he probably helped to shepard her career, for Josh Homme of Queens of the Stone Age. Well, first off, shit happens and second...Josh is just rock and sex on a platter so I really can't blame her. That was all up in her face...what was she supposed to do?!

So the conclusion...buy the album. Don't question me on this, I'm not fond of confrontation. Thank you.

Honey, I'm hungry like a damn wolf

Yesterday I was having a testy female day...just living in my head and annoying the fuck out of myself but all of that changed this morning when...

I RAN INTO JOHN "DURAN SQUARED" TAYLOR IN THE ELEVATOR BANK OF MY OFFICE! Okay, I need to put my head between my knees and just breathe because I'm about to fall out.

Now for all of you that were not young girls in the 80's you might not get the magnitude of this but trust me it is HUGE. My everlasting love and appreciation of bass players (particularily fine ass one's like JT...oh yeah Justin Timberlake there was a JT before you and there will be the same JT after you) stems from the oeuvre of the magical and magnificent Mr. John Taylor. He made stage left oh so sexy for oh so many years. Yep, I knew his stage placement very well.

So picture this. I had just got my wheat bread from the deli (the same deli where some crazy homeless dude punched me in the back...that is another story), my water and some Advil Cold and Sinus (yeah, feel bad for me) and was heading into the building at the bright and early time of 11:19am. Right as I say hello to the lovely security guard my eye shifts to the right...cause I got a crazy eye ..and who is there but JOHN FUCKING TAYLOR. He looked glorious in a cute little hat, disheavled but expensive outfit and his face was aged like a fine wine. For real folks, I stopped but my bag down and had to lean against the wall. It was like I was 12 years old again and I had just gotten Notorious. Sidenote: that Nile Rodgers can produce like a motherfucker.

And can I say dude is fucking tall! I was like damn, you better work it out there! Most musicians are really pasty wee men but JT is just man-size...just like PJ Harvey. That right there was for the real players reading this.

Anyway, I had to share my tale with you all. For years I have said that I would die if I ever saw John Taylor in public but luckily I did not. Yes, I had a small heart attack, but the fact that my heart may never be the same again is fine because I walked in the pathway of a true 80's cultural phenom and that doesn't happen everyday.

End scene.

The Garden has officially been cleansed of the Republicans

Goddamn if I did not have the best damn time at the Beasties show this Saturday night!

This Saturday marked the 9th time I have seen those bustas tear shit up and I was NOT disappointed.

Okay so picture it. Ry Ry, Tom, Adrienne, Jess and I had some pre-game cocktails at mi casa...yeah, I'm mad bilingual and shit. Well not really but I do love Mexicans, but you all know that by now. Anyway, after making a very fabulous summer like drink for the kids (Absolut Manderin with Guava and Mango juice, oh yummy) and doling out Bagel Bites (TM) like I was motherfucking Jean-Georges we headed to the festivities. Before that happened though I have to give a shout out to the Ry Ry for still knowing how to make me laugh after I don't know how many years knowing him. Dude, for real, you are super duper it. And since I'm giving shouts here one more for him and Tom for bring me a box Jacques Torres chocolates. I'm a simple bitch. I like gifts for no reason. That shit is sexy. Big up for J. Brown for also bringing the heat and the yummiest Chocolate Chip and Pecan cookies ever. Okay, enough with my Kate's Secret talk right here. I'm scaring my own damn self.

Okay...on to the show.

Now for real, those gents...we're back on the Beasties right now, are like pushing 76...and I'm still just amazed and thrilled that they can pull a young crowd. I mean, I was stoked to see more than a gaggle of the 30 plus set but I was pleased as punch to see that kids that were just a glimmer in their mama's eye when Licensed to Ill came out all up in the game. Bravo honeychiles, bravo! And it was a pure pleasure to accompany Ry Ry and Tom to their first Beastie Boys show. To be a part of the "first time" was special...I felt like their mama, or a hooker, whichever. It was just fucking touching. Anyway...

I don't even know if I can properly recount the PURE magic that went on but let's say this. The Beasties OWN Madison Square Garden and they knew it. Hot I say, HOT! Not only did they do "Paul Revere" but they brought out Doug E. Fresh to beat box behind it. Yeah I said it...Doug big old E with a period at the end Fresh not dirty but Fresh. Get a book, learn your history and recognize. And then the boys gave a shout out to DMC who was in the audience. Oh, did I mention they were wearing matching green and yellow track suits? No irony just pure flyness. End scene.

Oh, and they KILLED "Brass Monkey". I was in heaven. Now yes, they kinda flubbed it when they started it and started it over again but it is not like I mind hearing the beginning of that song more than once. Flashback moment: I remember when I was at NYU and the fierce Valerie Grubman would hightail it to Avenue A (ohhhh scary in 93) to get that shit for us. Pure fucking cough syrup that was but that was the original crunk juice and lord knows that was the trash that would have you found ass up, face down. Ew lord...as Jerri Blank would say, "Good times, good times...." Whoot there it was.

For their encore they went into the 200's section and did "Intergalactic". Now I'm not trying to be a bitch but I got say this...for all of you folks that were like whatever I don't need to see the Beasties....YOU MISSED IT SUCKAS! The crowd lost it, the Beasties lost...everyone was acting like a damn fool and it was just glorious! It was like they knew that this was THEIR crowd and they were just as happy to be there as we were. Shit for $60 bucks more folks need to get their butts up in the stands...y'all got security, use it!

The crowning moment of the show was "Sabatoge" as the final song and it's dedication to that rascal George W. "I'm down with the syndrome" Bush. If that was not a fitting "tribute" I don't know what is. I was so amped that I was not upset that beer was splashed on me when the crowd got all sorts of extra. And lord knows that I usually will shiv a bitch between the 3rd and 4th ribs for some foolishness like that.

So to end this Afterschool Special here you go: The Beastie Boys still know how to do their thing and deserve all the respect and admiration they get from the masses...shit, they should get more just for Paul's Boutique alone. Yeah, I know everybody says they love that album but does everybody have it on cassette, CD, and vinyl? Did I hear a no? Okay then, sit down. Moral of the story. Great show, great pals and great times. I can't wait for the day to come when "The Sounds of Science" comes on the oldies channel and with a tear in my eye, and my young rugrats at my feet I say out loud, "Them were the days children, them were the days. Now rub mama's feet and make her a cocktail...and don't skimp on the vodka this time!" Sigh...

Things that I am loving today...part deux

1) The new Mark Lanegan album Bubblegum, more importantly the song "Come to Me". Not only is this Mark at his Tom Waitsey best but it's a duet with the marvelous Ms. Polly Jean Harvey and dammit if it is not sex on a platter. This is the good stuff my friends. If you like grown ass sexy songs this should move on up towards the top of your list. "Come to Me" is for women that don't feel complete without a pair of pumps on and fishnets...and the men that lust them.

2) My Uniball Vision Elite writing pen. Really, I don't know how to breakdown how fierce this pin is...I feel like I need to sign some declaration or something with this bad boy...check it out.

3) Aly Corn. She is my friend. She used to be my boss. The slag is funny (not as funny as me, but what are you going to do about it) and she supports my IM addicition every damn day. Love her.

4) Vanessa K...for real, old girl gets WAY too much info about me via the IM...she is even more enabling than Aly is with the IM. I would move her up in the list but I like my bitches humble so she is staying here for now. She's a cool little hussy and I mean that in the nicest way.

4) That I only have 48 more hours until THE BEASTIE BOYS at MSG! Yeah, I got amped, don't trip. I don't care that the King Ad-Rock and the boys are THIS close to getting their AARP on, I still love em. Saw them on their last tour at the Garden and they brought it. The kids need to brush up on their history and check out how the Beasties do it. I plan on being crunked out on Brass Monkey and rhyming and stealing like nobody's bizness.

5) My mom for leaving me a message last night saying that she saw "Shark Tale" and that I need to call her back to discuss the VP debates. This is the same lady that left me a message at work saying that she saw a program on Ol' Dirty Bastard and the Wu-Tang and she wanted to convo about them and their work. Yeah, she said their work. My mom is cuter and cooler than your mom, deal.

Ta da...the end!

Billy Squire...man, myth, legend

Um, so I realized that Dizzee Rascal sampled Billy Squire's "Big Beat" in his track "Fix Up, Look Sharp", which is, for lack of a better and less overused word, AWESOME but I just realized that the same track is sampled in Jay-Z's "99 Problems", which is even a more AWESOMER song.

When did a single Billy Squire song become the go to music for rap/grimey tracks?

I don't know when it happened but god bless that it has...magic, pure magic. Let me just put it out right now...the minute someone breaks down Toto's "Hold the Line" it will be a fine, fine day.

R.I.P. Rodney Dangerfield

For real, Caddyshack and Back to School were THE shit....

That's it, I've lost it

So I'm sure that many of you know that I have this strange need for my US Weekly, yes it is just a fluffy little mag for the entertainment junkie in me but it is MY fluffy little mag and I make no excuses for my love of it. Some people like crack I like this rag...and some may say it is the same thing, whatever.

Anyway, I come home on Monday night after a big old plate of Nachos Gordo at Benny's Burritos while talking trash with the lovely Tanya Edwards and debating very profound and enlighting topics such as: What celebs you don't feel foolish getting an autograph from (#1 Sebastian Bach...dude lives for that shit!)...and then all hell broke loose. I open my mailbox just KNOWING that the US Weekly was going to be there, I mean it wasn't there Friday and it wasn't there on Saturday so naturally it had to be there then..but, gasp...it's NOT there. What the fuck?! My Budget Living mag is there...by the by, GREAT publication on how to really and twirl with a bit of cash, my Verizon bill (they KNOW how to get there shit there ON TIME), and blah, blah, blah.

It's like this. Why they hell should I have to wait 2, 3, 4 days for this trash when it is just staring at me from the newsstand with it's beady little eyes day before I get it! I have a subscription I SHOULD know what is going on in Leah Remini's life before the common man does! Yes, a sub pretty much cuts your cost in half but it should also ensure you that you get your "news" in a timely fashion.

War, famine, stem cell research...fuck it all. Dubya and Kerry need to be talking about the pain I'm going through during the next debate...hell, if they don't have time have Edwards and Dick "I'm mean as fuck" Cheney duke it out...but someone needs to discuss this because I'm stark raving mad and I'm not gonna take it anymore!

Yes, my love for GGB is TOTALLY justified...

After a sunny afternoon of reading the paper in lovely Fort Greene Park I decided to have a tasty burger and fries at the Academy Diner (they are snarky as FUCK, but those folks grill a mean burger) and check out The Motorcycle Diaries...and dammit if that didn't just spin me into a world of happy.

For those that don't know this beautifully shot film is based on the journals of a 23 year old Ernesto Guavera de la Serna...more famously known as Che Guavera...and his friend Alberto Granado and their trek across South America in the beginning of 1952. I must say, the journals bore me to bits when I read it ages ago but this film...yes film, not movie...made up for it ten-fold.

Now yes, I have a deep appreciation (i.e. obsession of some sort) of Gael Garcia Bernal and EVERYONE and their mother knows about but for real...this is completly warrented. And The Motorcycles Diaries just reinforces it.

Not only is it just gorgeous to look at but the performances are great...not only GGB's but that of Rodrigo de la Serna who plays Alberto...without his funny, sweet, and tasteful choices in this part Gael wouldn't have been as good...and brother is good. It is so nice to watch a flick with a young actor that is just that, an actor...not some young punk that wants to be a STAR. This gent could easily jump on that Latin heartthrob bandwagon but instead he actually continues to work in his country (and other Spanish speaking countries) and supports their scene...admirable. I don't see Antonio Banderes doing it, and lord knows, if he spoke Spanish again in his films I would able to stomach him! I cannot wait to see Bad Education...I said it before and I will say it again. Him and Amodovar together, I might have a slight stroke...if it hits my right side I best be learning how to work the left right quick.

So this is the conclusion...do yourself a favor go to a theater and check it out...and check out a filmmaker and actors that love a land that is really never represented in such a gorgeous fashion. Yes, this is a film that delves into the poverty and injustice in a region that inspired Che but it also so how grand and beautiful it is too. Remember the Americas represent more than just the U.S. and this is a reminder of that.

Okay, back to being bitchy and oh so humorous in my posts...and talking about how pretty GGB is!

Is it me or...

...did Bush look like he was either going to skull fuck John Kerry or start spitting during the WHOLE debate?

For real, Mr. Simpleton needs to really work on his facial expressions because he is looking oh so classless, but that would not be the first time.

The Kerry came out of this extremely DULL debate smelling like a rose. So much so that at the end of the debate I think he should have flipped over his podium, turned to Dubya and screamed, "YOU GOT SERVED!"

Seriously, if the next debate does not take it to next level we need to determine this election by either a no holds barred cage match to the death or some Sly Stallone Over the Top action...take it to the mat or take it the fuck home!

Okay, I must go now...Ann Richards is on Larry King and I love that crazy old lesbian because she knows how to take some fools to school.

Man...I'm glad I got this album again!

Ages ago I either lost or misplaced the first System of a Down album and I kept saying that I was going to replace it. Well mama got a Virgin Megastore "ten buck off" certificate so I went and got the third season of Strangers With Candy (that is for another post...Amy Sederis is the epitome of funny, don't try to argue with me about this because I will wreck you) and then SOAD. And goddamn if that shit don't still sound so fresh after being gone from my collection for OVER two years. Honey, don't ask me how I survived without it...like a cockroach I somehow just kept on truckin'.

I feel complete again and I want to thank Serj and the boys. Y'all keep on trying to keep educating the kids about Armenian genocide and keep those basslines strong!