Saturday, December 31

OPEN YOUR MOUTH, GIVE YOU A TASTE…

So I came across an interesting post on one of the blogs in my bookmarks folder… I think it is just beyond cool when other people share their musical interests—it's kinda like finding out who they date, or what they like to eat.

My older sister used to dip her crinkle-cut fries in her chocolate milkshake whenever we went to Del Taco, a kick-ass California fast food joint. (Think, Taco Bell… only it won't give you the runs.) I don’t remember the first time she did it. I don’t even recall her mentioning how much she liked it, or ever attempting to make me try it. What I do remember is how pissed-off she was whenever I asked her about it—or worse, when I made fun of her for it. She just liked what she liked, and it wasn’t any of my business.

Whether or not I agree with someone else’s taste in music is always overshadowed by what an honor it is when they decide to share this information.

All of this might sound pretty trivial, in the abstract. But make no mistake about it this sorta thing can be incredibly personal. Nobody likes it when they’re ridiculed, so putting your thoughts and opinions out in the open is an act of bravery. And now, I have a bunch of new music to check out…

So go ‘head now, ‘spress yo’self!


Previous, music-related posts:

It's An Honor, Just To Be Nominated

Put Your Thing Down, Flip It and Reverse It

Ten Tunes Rockin' My World Right Now

Friday, December 30

CLAP FOR HIM, AUDIENCE*

*This is how each guest is introduced on this show.

So I've been meaning to mention how much I like Isaac Mizrahi's new talk show on the Style Network… no, really. It's a real hoot, and not just because he's a newbie. Oh, sure, he makes the occasional mistake, but so does Saint Oprah. OK, so her mistakes have more to do with hair, than forgetting names, or insulting guests… but we'll get to that.

What I love about this show is the honesty – and the format, too. Both are a refreshing, given today's media climate. At some point during each show, Isaac usually takes questions from the audience, dispensing fashion advice and even making a sketch for each person. He also has help from the so-fabulous-you-could-just-die Simon Doonan (on the left side of this picture), whom I adore. (He makes life seem like a fun, mod movie—achingly glamorous, but never taking things too seriously. If you haven't ever read his book, you're missing out!)

The show also features a live, in-house band, but not like the cheesy ones on Letterman or Leno. No, these guys hold it down, from the first downbeat, to the last credit. I actually wish they would play a little more, but that's just me. Isaac also has a little coffee shop of sorts, which is nice… I mean, fresh espresso for guests, and all. I just wish it wasn't staffed by a young, black man. There's something a little step-and-fetch about it. Maybe it's the way Isaac talks (down) to him, or maybe the boy isn't all that bright… can't say for sure.


One recent episode featured Teri Garr—this episode is a perfect example of how delicious this show can be. First off, we'll forgive Isaac for getting a little too excited, and calling her, "Hollywood Royalty." I'm not sure who I would consider worthy of the title, but I do think it is a little over-the-top to just throw those kinds of titles around. It's how Michael Jackson became the King of Pop… and MTV's Artist of the Decade. (There's no such award, by the way). Balancing out Isaac's hyperbolic overstep was his next move. See, he'd been off to the side of the main stage for a fabulous makeover segment, and when he came back… Teri was there, ready for her interview. But when he came back to sit down (and bark out an order for coffee), there was a new set piece. It was a simple, little vase with a single lily in it.

Isaac proceeded to immediately freak out.

Well, not freak out in a way that was intentionally meant to hurt anyone's feelings. He made quite a fuss about how much he didn’t like the vase, and demanded to know who had placed it on the stage, several times, until Teri finally confessed.
“Do you not like it?” she asked, the hurt already seeping into her eyes.
He took a moment to glance, nervously at the camera.
“Well… no,” he finally muttered.
With a quick, under-the-breath sort-of apology, Isaac quickly re-gifted the vase out into the audience. But that was OK, since one of his previous segments was all about re-gifting. It turned out to be a great interview, despite this first misstep, and in spite of the fact Isaac didn’t remember previously meeting Teri.

But the reason I love the show so much is simple: there are too many images (whether fictional characters, or “real” people) of catty, bitchy, screaming, evil queens in the media right now. Don’t get me started on Will & Grace and the amount of damage it’s actually doing. I find it so terribly refreshing, and rewarding to watch Isaac. He’s clever and witty, without being mean, just to get a laugh. He’s fashion-forward, but not overly obsessed with trends, and doesn’t promote the negative, dominant body culture. In a word, he’s fabulous.

Friday, December 23

ON THE OTHER HAND…

In my last entry, I think I came across as disliking Madonna. OK, not just disliking, but really hating. I don’t want it to sound as though I’m trying to jump on some backlash bandwagon. There seems to be a bit of Madonna-hating going on right now, although I don’t think it really rises to the level of “breaking news.”

There aren't really many people that I hate—Madonna isn't even close to being one of them.

No, I wouldn’t want to ever be seen as ripping on Madonna just for sh!ts and giggles. No, that would lump me in the same group as this tired, old, why-are-you-still-making-music relic of a queen. Hey, I may have my light-in-the-loafers moments, but this cheese-takes the cake. (And from the look of things, he eats that cake every chance he gets.)

THINGS THAT MAKE YOU GO HMM…

Read this post from the Mean Queens blog before diving into this entry.

OK, first of all, lemme say what an interesting / intelligent post this is. So many blogs fell victim to the Madge Media Machine, posting “official” photos, and composing epic poems celebrating her newest incarnation—kinda sad, really. I mean did she really need to come out with a wine?

I know her fan-base is getting older, but what’s next, an album with matching Depends? The collectible, limited edition Ensure bottles? At some point, we stop believing that a multi-millionaire, forty-something mother-of-two is still just a girl who grew up in working class Detroit who is just really in-tune with ghetto youth.

Don’t get me wrong, I love that woman—even went to see Who's That Girl in the theatres. When I first took an interest in Madonna (somewhere around the “Open Your Heart” video) my parents decided to start monitoring my music / TV interests. They watched the Ciao Italia concert tape with me. The year my sister—in defiance of our parents’ direct orders not to—gave me the “Justify My Love” VHS single, rather than punishing her, or yelling at us, we sat down as a family, and watched the video. Several times, in fact.

We then had to do de-construct / analyze the imagery, message, tone, technique… you know, your basic film-theory discussion. We also had to defend our interest in her work, debated her impact as an artist and explored the possible motives driving a shock-as-art performer. Oh, and got a brief overview of the role of pornography from our dad—a short lecture after none of us knew what he was referencing when he called the video a, “borderline nickelodeon snuff pic.” (Yeah, if you think I’m a bit odd, you should meet the people who raised me to think I wasn’t.)

My father also, on several occasions, said that the reason Madonna always used black and Latino back-up singers / dancers was to make herself look whiter. No, I would argue, she’s just more comfortable around them. She grew up in working class Detroit, moved to New York, and as a struggling dancer, lived in the black and Latino neighborhoods

I mean, why would someone want to appear so white, when being a darkie was starting to be so cool? Rap and Hip-Hop were blowing up in the mainstream media. Non-white actors were landing big-time, serious acting roles in film and TV and making money at it, too! So why would an artist who’s career success is based on introducing underground culture to the masses, became an icon because she’s such a trend setter, made millions upon millions by staying one step ahead of the mainstream tastes want to… oh.

Well, at least my dad never gloats when it turns out he was right.

Thursday, December 22

PUT YOUR THING DOW, FLIP IT AND…


THE TUNES I JUST CAN'T GET ENOUGH OF, December Edition
In no particular order:

Cool [Richard X Mix] by Gwen Stefani – A tasty lil’ blend of sugary-sweet vocals, with some fatty-boom-batty breaks, to keep your head knockin’

Self Control by Laura Branigin – Yes, it’s the one you’re thinking of, from the 1980s. Can’t beat those over-cooked lyrics and Casio beats

Hung Up by Madonna vs My Humps by the Black Eyed Peas – an interesting, and oddly addictive mash up

Sorry / Jump / Like It or Not, from Confessions on a Dance Floor by Madonna – a great album. If you don’t already own a copy, go out and get one

La Tortura [Shaketon or Tracy Young Remix] by Shakira – I don’t have a clue as to what she’s moaning about, but I love, love, love this song

Everything Burns, from The Fantastic Four soundtrack by Anastacia feat Ben Moody – I’ve loved Anastacia, from the first time I heard her voice. But this song only served to deepen my appreciation for her talent (as a singer, and as a song writer), and showcase just how far she’s come as an artist

Do You Want To by Franz Ferdinand – I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of listening to this one

Mr. Brightside [Jacques Lu Cont Thin White Duke Mix] by the Killers – The Grammy nod for this remix made me fall in love with it, all over again. Lu Cont is a skilled remixer, and outstanding producer / arranger, and anyone who doesn’t think he deserves that Grammy should listen to the killer job he did on Madonna’s Re-Invention Tour

On the Dark Side from the Eddie & The Cruisers soundtrack – not only was the guy in this film hot, but it was a great song.

Star Tar, from Dames At Sea (Original Cast Recording) by Bernadette Peters – OK, so this one makes me a major queen, but after a call from an old college pal, I flashed-back to the time when I was in this show. On the final chorus, our lead belted through the vocal gymnastics as written (a series of octave-slides, from the bottom of the basement, up to notes above the staff) while turning cartwheels. Oh, and she stopped at the top of each vocal run… to twirl batons. The director said it best: Totally taste-free

Wednesday, December 21

I KNOW WHERE I'M TAKING MY NEXT VACATION…

…in MANCOUNTRY. I know it may seem like I go on and on about COLT Studio, their projects and (of course) their men. But can you blame me? I mean, look at them!

On the cover, are Luke Garret and Gage Weston (thanks for the hook-up, Kris). It is from the publicity campaign for COLT's next big release: MAN COUNTRY. (A big release from them means a big release for me. Sorry, but it had to be said.) Luke and Gage, aside from both being former members of the US Armed Services, are real-life boyfriends.

If you've never seen one of John Rutherford's movies, first of all… what's wrong with you? Even if you're not gay, they're worth checking out, especially now that he's the head honcho at COLT. There are plenty of people in the adult industry—straight, bi or gay—who play the game well. But onlhandfulfull of people actually change the way the game is played and perceived; John Rutherford is one of those people, and you're only depriving yourself if you don't check his films out. You'll thank me for it later, trust me…

just send any thank-you notes to MAN COUNTRY.

Monday, December 19

VIA CON DIOS…

Over the weekend, it was announced that John Spencer (of The West Wing, among others) passed. I love The West Wing, for a number of reasons, but I don't think I truly appreciated what this fine actor brought to the show until this weekend—not just because he died, but because my younger sister and I watched the first three discs of Season Three of The West Wing. In a word: amazing.

He will be missed, and loved… always.

Saturday, December 17

IT'S A HONOR JUST TO BE NOMINATED

Once, again… it isn't like anybody asked my opinion, but why let that stop me? Here are a couple of my picks for the 2005 Grammy Awards:

Record Of The Year
Boulevard Of Broken Dreams, Green Day

Album Of The Year
Late Registration, Kanye West

Best Dance Recording
Galvanize, The Chemical Brothers featuring Q-Tip

Best Electronic/Dance Album
Human After All, Daft Punk

Best Remixed Recording, Non-Classical
Mr. Brightside (Jacques Lu Cont's Thin White Duke Mix) The Killers
Jacques Lu Cont, remixer


The recognition of these artists almost makes up for the insane number of nominations Mariah Cary got. Almost. Oh well… with or without The Retardation of Mimi, it turned out to be an OK year for the Grammys. I highly recommend any, or all, of these recordings. Enjoy!

Sunday, December 11

NOW SHE THINKS SHE CAN SING

I don’t throw the word hate around very often—it isn’t a very imaginative term, and as a concept, it isn’t really an emotion worth investing in. But that’s a posting for another time. Right now, I actually have something unworthy of the term: that freakin’ lame-ass excuse of a spokes-whore for Overstock.com.

Now, I’m not exactly sure if everyone will know what I’m talking about. (You could, for all I know, be like my cousin Julie, and TiVo everything—skipping right over the commercials.) But if you’ve ever seen one of those damn ads… then you know. And I mean, you know.

It isn’t just that she’s annoying. I mean she’s pretty enough, or whatever. And, unlike those retards in the Eastwood Insurance ads (or any local mattress store ads), she actually has an on-screen presence—a watchable quality, if you will.

But there’s something about her voice that’s a little unsettling. Somebody told me she was from Germany, so English isn’t her native tongue… but that’s no excuse. If you don’t have a firm grasp on a language—because of the phonics involved, or if you’re just not that bright—you should avoid a career in the spotlight. (That goes double for you, Celine Dion!) I’m not sure what it is about the Overstock.com lady, but her voice/mannerisms get under my skin. Oh I know, I know: don’t sweat the small stuff. But trust me, if I start sweating the big stuff, I’d end up with my head in the oven. (Aside to those who know: they deserve each other. And that’s all I’m gonna say about that one, so stop asking.)

I don’t know if you’ve seen Overstock’s latest ad on TV, but let me just fill you in: it blows, in a way that makes me wish for the apocalypse. I mean, it wasn’t enough for that smug, “I’m cashing in on the whole M.I.L.T.F. thing, even though I’m about as fetching as a day-old casserole” spokes-slut to peddle her tired, sorry-ass wares. No, she had to go and sing. SING, I SAY! All while walking around an all-white (ethnically and decoratively) snowy set.

Yes, she waddles around a set that looks like the town square from Gilmore girls after a nuclear winter, singing about all the crap you can get on her precious little site… to the tune of “Jingle Bells.” And when she gets to the refrain, she’s suddenly joined by a group of back-up singers comprised of Benetton ad rejects. ‘Cause, you know, that’s what us darkies do: we sit around (on our stoop, no less), waiting for some honky to come along, so we can sing back-up harmonies, and clap our hands. OK, we do clap when a good song comes on, but only so the crackers know which beat is the right one, but that’s understandable. Why didn’t they just show them eating watermelon, or tap-dancing?

Damn, I hate that *#%$, you know?

Friday, December 2

AND NOW, FOR ANOTHER MANHUNT POEM…

[Taken from a member profile on ManHunt—where, it turns out, the poetry is the only thing worth keeping.]

A Poem inspired by Shel Silverstein
By BoYnBrIeFsOrLeSs

Nobody f*cks me or blows.
Nobody pops my cherries & holes.
Nobody gives me kisses & hugs.
Nobody gets off to pics of me on bear skin rugs.
Nobody jumps my bones as I come home at nite
Nobody molests me when off goes da lite.
Nobody sleeps w/me or moans.
Nobody thinks I’m hot enough 2 bring in their homes.
So if U ask me who my boy is, I will tell U my boy Nobody is!
But last nite I had quite da orgasm, I awoke & Nobody just made me spasm.
I reached out 2 stop Nobody’s wrist! In da darkness on my dick, Nobody’s fist.
Then My body shook across my bed, & I saw Somebody there giving me head!
I moaned till I gasped & now w/dawn, There's no doubt about it—Nobody’s gone.

Previously

ManHunt Poem (June)

ManHunt Poem (May)

ManHunt Poem (September)