Idol Worship

I realized over the weekend that my dad has a little crush... on Carrie Underwood. Isn't that cute?

I've been spending alot of weekends with my parents for the last couple of months because my mom's been quite ill and they could use the company. In fact, she's been hospitalized since January 23rd. It's a whole new culture over there, hanging with the nurses, other hospital regulars and watching lots and lots of basic cable. Thank God that San Diego basic cable includes TCM, because me & the folks can generally agree on old movies. We also watch alot of the Travel Channel and some Animal Planet. We mostly hate reality TV, but my parents love game shows or talent contests of any sort, especially on the Latin Channels.

I don't mind watching the Latin channels so much - it keeps me familiar with Spanish (although my Spanish speaking skills are dismal at best) and I kinda feel like I know what about half of the world is up to. Really. These shows are huge in Central and South America as well as a large contingent of the U.S. We watch alot of dance competitions, some dating shows, and "Vas O No Vas!" which is the Spanish version of "Deal or No Deal." I didn't understand the English version of that show, but somehow the Spanish version got through to me. My dad and I like to play "Find the Fake Tits!" while watching.

Last weekend brought about a discussion of American Idol, a show I've only watched once. It was the final episode of Season 1 - Kelly vs. Justin. I didn't watch the whole thing, just parts of it. My roommate was watching. It got very "Up With People" (these sunny Christian pop troupes that would tour around the country in the early 80's... Hey, I went to Catholic school. We knew about these things.) and that vibe creeped me out. Never watched it again.

But I did continue to be involved... I worked at a publishing company for a couple of years and would help the AI team get clearances for literally hundreds of songs every season. It was interesting. Songwriters would be stoaked to have their songs on the show - it always meant a spike in sales for them. Some songwriters specified when their songs could be performed: finalists only, no auditions, no William Hungs! (Really, can you blame them?) Some also specified that the original performer could not be imitated during the AI performance in any way.

The supervisors were always pretty savvy about what they picked for their contestants. The year of Carrie Underwood (Season 4, I think), the music supervisor knew she had a country singer on her hands. Since the show mainly does Top 40 pop, we fished out those songs with country leanings to show off Carrie's pipes in just the right way. Guess it worked!

I was discussing this with my dad and he said, "Well, that was the right thing to do. Carrie Underwood is very talented." Me: "Oh, you've heard her?" Dad: "Sure, they play her on the radio." "I thought you listened to NPR all day." "Well, sometimes I listen to other things."

Then my mom cut in. "He likes her." "How do you know?" "He watched the Country Music Awards this year because she was on it."

Busted!! "You did?" "Well, it seemed like she would probably do very well, and she did." "Yea, but when was the last time you remembered to tune into the Country Music Awards?" "It just happened to be on..."

Riiiiight...

The Dap Queen

Back in 2004, I worked at a music publishing company that had a very impressive roster of writers. An important duo happened to be in the office one afternoon for a visit, and I was ridiculously excited to meet them. Their names were Kenneth Gamble and Leon Huff, a pair of writers responsible for The Philadelphia Sound, which includes classic soul tracks like “Love Train,” “Don't Leave Me This Way,” and “For the Love of Money,” along with many, many others.

As I shook their hands and gushed about what wonderful music they had bestowed upon the world, Mr. Gamble looked at my t-shirt and said, “Sharon Jones?”

“Oh, I saw her last night," I said. "She's an amazing performer -- a soul singer.”

“Yes,” replied Mr. Huff. “I've heard of Miss Sharon Jones. I've heard she's good.”

In the fall of 2006, I got to tell Sharon Jones the story face to face. “Really? Gamble & Huff heard of me?" She said, clapping her hands at the love. "Well, that's something, ain't it?”

Sharon Jones is definitely something. For the last ten years, she has traveled the world with her backing band, the Dap-Kings, amassing an international following of funk-crazed fans eager to partake in her frenzied soul revues, as well as two critically acclaimed albums. And there doesn't seem to be any stopping the 50-year-old Augusta, Georgia native now.

Sharon Jones is a little woman with a big personality, who gestures, laughs and sings constantly during conversation. Her stories all connect back to singing, and she needs to sing a few lines of some song during conversation to help make a point. Hell, she winds up singing a few lines of something when she's telling jokes. The woman is always singing.

Jones remembers her first performance in a church Christmas pageant, dressed like an angel, complete with wings and halo. “I did ‘Silent Night,' so I guess I knew then. But it's not me, it's a gift,” she adds bluntly. “God has blessed me all these years, and he's continuing to bless me now.”

Her childhood was spent both in Brooklyn and Augusta , and she had plenty of opportunities in both neighborhoods. She spent time singing gospel in choirs, but also performed in local bands playing weddings. In New York, she even landed studio time as a back-up singer. And she got into the funky stuff early, listening to the Supremes and the Temptations, idolizing Patty Labelle and Aretha Franklin.

“My brother used to imitate James Brown all the time,” she laughs. “He'd do the slides and the splits and stuff like that. I was a little tomboy, so everything they tried to do, I'd say, ‘I can do it too!'”

Jones' blossoming showmanship got her band noticed in the early 80's, when they were asked to open for acts like Peaches & Herb and the Four Tops. The band, which included a couple of girls from her church, mainly performed covers of current hits like “Last Dance” or “Push Push (In the Bush).” She was doing studio work as well, but wanted to get a career of her own going. If only everyone else could get with it.

“They told me I was too dark skinned, too short, too fat...” she says. “And then they told me I was too old when I got into my twenties!”

She stopped performing for a while -- and even briefly worked as a prison guard -- until she was approached by a band leader who overheard her singing for friends at a picnic. He asked her to join his group, which played mostly covers at weddings and private events. She stayed with them for 18 years.

“At that time, women didn't really sing in wedding bands, and especially not black women,” says Jones. After some initial concern that the band might not get as many gigs with a black female singer as well as a white one, they decided just to let the talent shine… which it did. It wasn't very long before Sharon Jones was the featured singer, and the band constantly had work.

“We did lots of Whitney… LOTS of Whitney!” Jones adds.

It was towards the end of this period that she was noticed by the Soul Providers, now known as the Dap Kings. The band of young soulsters knew that Sharon 's voice would be a natural fit for their sound, and brought her in to record backup with Lee Fields (aka “Little J.B.”), a soul singer from the 70's who had achieved a cultish fame for his rowdy funk numbers. Her spirited accompaniment prompted the Dap-Kings to give her a couple of covers, including the classic Eddie Bo track, “Hook & Sling,” for a compilation, and it wasn't long until they were immediately picked up by funk DJs all over the country. The retro sound confused people, who had a hard time telling whether the comp was a collection of discovered oldies or new adopters going old-school.

More like a combination of both. Sharon Jones calls herself “the female James Brown,” but she definitely channels the spirit, energy, and natural soul that gets booties shakin'. Her performances are exhaustive events: She dances (shoes off and on, depending) constantly, brings men up onstage to sass them mercilessly, jokes at length between songs, brings enthusiastic audience members up to dance with her, interacts seamlessly with her band of finely dressed young men. Let's just say the show goes on. And on. And she loves it; it's evident in every note, hand-flip and hip-shake. And her audience vibes off her every move, all over the world.

She's currently at work on a follow-up to Naturally, and recently joined Lou Reed as a singer in his Berlin performances done in Sydney earlier this year. And while Jones and the Dap-Kings' catalogue so far mainly music consists of originals and funked-up covers songs like Janet Jackson's “What Have You Done For Me Lately” as well as gritty, mournful tributes, such as her revision of Woody Guthrie's folk classic, “This Land is Your Land. Meanwhile, the originals are classic soul updated for the new millennium. Jones and the Dap-Kings lay down “How Do You Let A Good Man Down” and “Got A Thing On My Mind” that harken back to the moving styles of Lynn Collins or Vicki Anderson, who were incredibly passed by in their time. But Miss Sharon Jones is here now, and she's making the most of it.

“Now that I'm 50, I'm still dark skinned and I'm still short. I think I'm pleasantly plump,” she says with a smirk. “And I'm glad I didn't let that stop me." She smiles. "I don't know how many years I'm gonna have, so I'll keep doing it as long as I can.”

(reprinted from Morphizm, where I drop in from time to time... Photo by Kelly Jo Garner -thanks!)

The Politicians Are Now DJs?

Many years ago, when streaming radio was just a sweet young thing, the big record companies realized they weren't making any money off of it. Commercial radio pays a royalty fee for each song that is played, non-commercial pays a small flat fee annually. So the government came up with this convoluted mess of a system to charge for internet radio - something like a sliding scale per song based on the number of hits the site got per hour. It was a fluctuating rate, just like it sounds. What got confusing for the non-coms (ranging from college and community stations to broadcasters in their living rooms) was that they didn't necessarily have those numbers - and they certainly didn't have the money.

To be safe, thousands of stations went dark. Small community stations turned off the streams, potentially losing tons of new donation revenue. Creative weirdos in Alaska playing rare rockabilly were silenced. Political commentary of all kinds ceased.

Then the government did what they had done in the world of terrestrial radio... The Flat Fee. All was well for the little guys.

Until March 1st of this year, when the US Copyright Office decided that they were right in the first place, and all internet radio needed to pay these royalty fees based on how many people were listening, regardless of if the station received any sort of income. And make it effective January 1st of 2006... LAST YEAR. To give you an idea of how this works, check out this figure from the "Save Our Internet Radio" website: Under this royalty structure, an Internet radio station with an average listenership of 1000 people would owe $134,000 in royalties during 2007 - plus $98,000 in back payments for 2006. In 2008 they would owe $171,000, and $220,000 in 2009.

Um, that's kinda bullshit.

Terrestrial radio has been struggling under the Mickey D's syndrome ever since Clinton passed the Deregulation Act of 1996, which allowed the Clear Channels of the world to gobble up stations and effectively stamp out individuality. There are struggling stations all over the country trying to make an impact, and many, many more online. Charging the non-commercial entities these kinds of fees would kill them, and the some of the very artists the US Copyright Act wants to help (ahem right) would not make it onto any real radio airwaves and get heard anyway.

You can do something... It was stopped once before, and hopefully we can stop it again. Go here to sign a petition, and then bombard your Congresspeople with emails.

To quote the Actionslacks tune "This Damn Nation:" and don't talk about the airwaves 'cause I can't hold back the tears, all the bands that could save your life - you will never hear...

Little Radio Radio

Here's the playlist for Thursday, April 5th... if y'all were tuned in:

The MINT CHICKS edition (my new obsession):

Crazy? Yes. Dumb? No! - The Mint Chicks
Work For Love - Ministry
Same Old Scene - Roxy Music (Glimmers Mix)
Love Thyself - Macromantics
What Light - Wilco
Estuary Bed - The Triffids
Moth In A Cloud of Smoke - All Smiles
We All Belong - Dr. Dog
Ain't No Mountain High Enough - Marvin Gaye & Tammy Terrell
Baby, It's You - Smith
Cuban Slide - The Pretenders
This Damn Nation - Actionslacks
Catholic Block - Sonic Youth
Real Friends - The Mint Chicks
Digital - Joy Division
Sof Core - Maurice & the Cliches
Walking City - Miho Hatori
XR2 - MIA
Don't Look & It Won't Hurt - Richmond Fontaine
Lloyd, I'm Ready to Be Heartbroken - Camera Obscura
The Day I Found Myself - Honey Cone
Poor Poor Pitiful Me - Linda Ronstadt
The Seeker - The Who
Tears - The Chameleons UK
Kaleidoscope - Ride
Maze of Love - Dave Clark Five
Peach Kelli Pop - Redd Kross
Ockham's Razor - The Mint Chicks
Let Our Love Be - Chris Joyner
Heavy Heart - You Am I
A New England - Billy Bragg
Holy Chord - Dappled Cities

I'm going absolutely nutty over the Mint Chicks right now. I kind of think that if Redd Kross had started today, they'd sound like this. It's got traces of Devo, Ministry, Joy Division, Dickies and other stuff I haven't quite figured out yet, and I love every minute of it. They're crazy New Zealand types, and the record is on Flying Nun. And the brothers who started the band are cute. Bonus!

Ay Chico (y Chicas!)

Let's talk about music. Like Top 40 music. Today's Top 40 music.

I don't care for it. I work in an industry that requires me to stay on top of what's charting, what the kids are buying, what people on TRL (that still exists, right?) are screaming about and shit... and then exploit that. I honestly make decisions based on artist's criminal records. It's retarded.

What I'm saying is that I'm dealing with "urban" music, mainly. Hip hop and R&B. Now, I don't have anything against hip hop and R&B. I think alot of it today is boring, but there are certainly moments... Most of it is crazy repetitive, though.

But I really, really love "hurban" stuff. Hurban? You haven't heard that phrase? It's "hispanic" + "urban..." Hurban, get it? It applies to all the Spanglish rap, reggaeton, and Latin pop these days.

I've always been a sucker for this stuff - it's in my blood. Really - Grandpa's from Spain and Mom's from Colombia. My mom listens to about 3 different Latin radio stations and has more CDs than I do, except that very few of them are in English. She's got all the Juanes, Carlos Vives, Mana, and she is solely responsible for me having the complete Shakira catalog (which I love - especially the unplugged album. It's muy bueno!).

Anyway, after I listen to a dose of Top 40 radio to refresh myself at work, I switch over to Latino 96.3. It's the hip hop and reggaeton station featuring DJs and callers who Spanglish all over the place, so my once Spanish fluent ears can make sense of what's going on more often than not. And I just love the tunes! Reggaeton is fucking fun. I'm sure it's just as repetitve as hip hop, singing about las chicas and el dinero y drugas and shit, but for some reason, it sounds more interesting to me. It's not the language difference, it's the music. They incorporate street sounds and instruments which make it more real for me... certain kinds of car horns, accordions, pounding drums and beats...

Right now, I Heart Pitbull. He's a Cuban dude singing about money, girls, and la migra. He's actually got quite a political bent, when he's not singing about partying. His parents raised him on Latin poets and he grew up listening to Luther Campbell's shit as well as G-funk styles, and wanted to freshen up the Miami bass sound.

I also really love Julieta Venegas. She currently does sweet sunny Latin pop, but it's more interesting than American pop. To me - I'm not sure why. She mixes in violin and cello and reggae rhythms and rock en espanol toughness... Oh, and accordion. I must like the accordion. It's kinda jazzy, though. Along with everything else.

So maybe it's just genetic, for me to appreciate hurban music more than urban. But it wasn't always this way... I just suspect that hurban is producing less crap at the moment. Maybe.

Friends of Mine

I got a message from my friend Kevin yesterday...

"Hey, I heard about your troubles with the law. I just wanted to suggest as a defense you might claim that it was involuntary. Tell the Judge it was a Reflex. if that doesn't work you may have to flee to Khanada and Save a Prayer that they don't find out about your Secret October."

My friends rule.

I Stand Accused

Burglary at Home of Duran Duran Guitarist

Posted Apr 2nd 2007 10:09PM by TMZ Staff

TMZ has learned that the home of John Taylor, bass guitarist of the rock group Duran Duran, was burglarized Monday night.

According to police, Taylor's house was ransacked and several items were missing from the residence, including the rocker's personal safe.

Taylor and his family are currently in England. The break-in was discovered by the housekeeping staff.

Along with the LAPD, the Hillside Burglary Task Force, also responded to the call. The special task force was created after a string of burglaries were reported in the west end of Hollywood Hills last year.

Cops told TMZ, "At this point, the fingerprints and photos are being taken of the scene and it is an ongoing investigation."

Taylor was one of the founding members of Duran Duran, one of the most popular bands of the 1980s.

******

Okay, I have received this info via email from many, many of my friends, asking me if I have an alibi. My deep love (but not obsession) of Duran Duran, and John Taylor, is well documented. Basically, what happened is this:

Well, I was looking for cracks in the pavement when suddenly I had a view to a kill! The shadows were on my side thanks to a new moon on Monday, so I slipped into the wild boy's house and, since I don't believe in shame, grabbed the electric Barbarella (what a girl on film!) and ran to the shore to the chauffeur. We were waiting for the night boat anyway, and there wasn't anyone out there, so we hightailed it to Tel Aviv. At the time I was pretty hungry like the wolf, but it's already just a careless memory, I'm afraid.

Geez, guys - I didn't do anything! If I broke into the man's house, I would have waited for him to come home and stayed over for drinks. And asked his wife Gela Nash-Taylor for some of those cute Juicy Couture tracksuits. Really!

Rock n Roll Weekend

This weekend I went and saw Actionslacks and You Am I. Twice. Once in SF at the always amazing Bottom of the Hill and once in LA at the always intimidating Spaceland.

The bands were stellar each night, but waaaaaay more stellar on Saturday in the Bay. Perhaps because the audience was excited and into it? No, bands don't really feed off the energy of the crowd, do they?

The Bottom of the Hill was packed on Saturday night, with fans and friends and people wanting to have a good time. Actionslacks blistered through a 45 minutes set which included stuff from their last 3 albums (including "One Word" which hasn't had much representation in the last few years...). Arms were pumping, people shimmied... They had only played one show in the last few years, so to see them this electric and spot on was fantastic. "Self Conscious Spiel," "This Damn Nation," Joan of Arc:" it all kicked ass, basically.


(Slacks at Spaceland. Rockin'.)

Then You Am I. I've seen them 6 times now in the last 6 months. Before that, I think I saw them twice over the course of 10 years. Um... they don't come to the States that often. The SF show was on fire. There was a sweaty, crazed throng of people going absolutely batshit in up front, and I was certainly one of them. They took "Detroit Rock City" into "Rumble," a move guaranteed to shake even the sturdiest of audience members, which it did. They busted out "Trike" and Tim Rogers flailed out screaming for "Thank God I've Hit the Bottom..." It was nuts. People were nuts. The band was nuts.

I LOVE it when that happens.

Los Angeles was good too... you just have to contend with crowds that cannot be pleased. Bands will beg crowds to dance or clap or something, only to be met with stares. Sometimes people get into it, but usually, they just like to watch.

The stage show was about the same, perhaps not as intense since the crowd was not as intense either. Tim Rogers did have alot of wacky stage banter, half of which I didn't understand. He was drinking from the same bottle of wine as the night before, which I found kinda funny. There were about 3 or 4 people going absolutely batshit up front, and I was one of them. He did "Gone" and then "Damage" with an acoustic to start, and the band kicked in halfway through the latter, and it was good. Very good.


(from the You Am I site.)

Now for some reason, I developed a crush on Andy Kent, the bass player, while at SXSW. After the show as I was leaving, he was outside talking to some guy and they were winding up their conversation. I thought about stopping and saying hi, but I didn't. I don't need to meet my rockstar crushes, after all. Might ruin the illusion. I crossed the street and then glanced back... and he had gone alongside the building behind this tree and was taking a piss! Oh well. My momentary crush was over.

But it was still a great show. Can't wait till next time!

Letter From Texas

So when I went to SXSW, I did the time honored practice of renting a room from somebody via Craigslist. Now, I was actually sent there for work, but my company is so lame that they decided 2 weeks before the event, and you know there ain't no rooms available in any hotels at that point.

I needed a letter from my "landlord" in order to get reimbursed. This is what she sent. I love her.

March 19, 2007

To Whom it May Concern,

This is a letter to confirm that Mo rented a room from me during the SXSW Music Festival. She paid me for the nights of March, 14-17. While I found her overall demeanor to be pleasant, she was fairly finicky and demanded both turn-down service and mints on her pillow. What was particularly perplexing about her demands was the fact that she is… something of a pig. While my lawyer has cautioned me to not offer too many details, let me just give you a quick run-down of her antics, night by night:

March 15, 3:15 AM: I found Mo and Pete Townshend deliberately clogging my kitchen sink with Raisin Bran and soy milk. They both had devilish glimmers in their eyes, and I knew that the bathroom sinks were next. My plumber said she’d never seen anything like it.

March 16, 2:58 AM: I was awoken by the crooning of a gaggle of Swedish hipsters in the tightest white pants I’d ever seen. Were they cute? Of course. Did the neighbors appreciate Mo leading them in a drunken ABBA sing-a-long? Not so much.

March 17, 3:05 AM: four words---Mo and John Doe. That’s all I have to say about that.

So, all in all, it was a good time. You’ll be hearing from my lawyer. And the plumber.

Have a great day, and keep an eye on Mo---she CRAZY,

Kat

All lies, every word. Except for the Swedes... and boy, those white pants WERE tight!

We Got the Message - I Heard It on the Airwaves

Here ya go, people... the Little Radio playlist for March 29, 2007:

Dirty Man - Laura Lee
My Friend Jack - The Smoke
Antichrist Television Blues - The Arcade Fire
Windfall - Son Volt
Blackstone - Kristin Hersh
Thuggery - You Am I
Birthday (Christmas Eve/Day version) - Sugarcubes (with Jesus & Mary Chain
Under the Illusion - Dimmer
Lest I Forget - The One AM Radio
Just As I Thought - William Bell
Brand New Cadillac - The Clash
Kingdom of Doom - The Good The Bad & The Queen
Nothing Matters When We're Dancing - The Magnetic Fields
Elephant Gun - Beirut
We're Leaving - Devotchka
La Noche y Tu - Lola Beltran
Tojo - Hoodoo Gurus
Welcome to Nowhere - The Mint Chicks
Jerkin' Back & Forth - Devo
Magick - The Klaxons
Circuitry of the Wolf - Mew
Baby I love You - Aretha Franklin
In My Room - Yaz
Someone Great - LCD Soundsystem
A Method - TV On The Radio
Ego Tripping - Nikki Giovanni
Fat Mama - Tito Puente
Finger Poppin' - Ike & Tina Turner
Too Nice to Talk To - The English Beat
Strugglin' - Howard Tate
Faith To Arise - Terry Reid
The Red Lantern - Jeff Klein
So Full of Holes - Actionslacks
Imogene Threw Me Over - Actionslacks

There ya go!

And if I have any advice for any of you, especially if you're in California, it's to check out Actionslacks and You Am I this weekend. A stellar rock spectacle, raw and rowdy. Bottom of the Hill in SF on the 31st, and Spaceland in LA on the 1st. Hope you can make it!

Tune In, Tune Out, Tune Back In...

LITTLE RADIO IS TAKING OVER THE WORLD!!

One DJ at a time.

It's time to rock! And roll! And all the other stuff you can shake your ass too!

Mo!
LittleRadio.com
Thursdays, 8-10pm PST (11pm EST, 3am Fridays in Berlin, and 3pm Friday in Oz... I think... Our daylight savings thing has me all out of sorts.)

Tune in! And if you won't be at your computer, tune in anyway! Make me feel the love, friends!

This week I'm bringing new stuff from Beruit, Arcade Fire, the Mint Chicks, LCD Soundsystem, Amy Millan and the Klaxons... Also bringing not so new stuff from Jeff Klein, Actionslacks, You Am I, TV On the Radio, Hoodoo Gurus, the Clash, and the Sugarcubes... And some straight up old stuff from Aretha Franklin, William Bell, Howard Tate, Terry Reid and much much more.

So tune in! And if you tune in earlier, you can catch Scott Ford's (you know, the awesome bass player for the Twilight Singers) supremely awesome radio show... complete with game shows and everything!

A Little Cheese With That Wine

Last week I was supposed to go see Amy Winehouse play at Spaceland... I saw her at SXSW, because I had a sneaking suspicion something would come up and I wouldn't get to see her back in LA in our tiny little hipster haven.

Monday night, she played with the Dap-Kings (just like in Austin) at the Roxy. I had the flu. Since my friends run the box office, I could've dragged myself over, but I opted to rest and drag myself to Spaceland instead.

By Tuesday morning, the rumors had already started... "The band is too big to play at Spaceland." "Looks like the Spaceland show is going to be cancelled." "Amy cancelled her radio station appearance this afternoon, looks like the show's not gonna happen."

Finally, that afternoon, it was officially cancelled. To quote the BFF: "They tried to make me play at Spaceland, but I said No No No..."

Maybe she was hit on just a little too hard by Bruce Willis (who was evidently calling her out from the side of the stage, and banging on her dressing room door backstage), or even worse, Sisqo (trying to get back on some sort of radar?) the night before at the Roxy? Perhaps she succumbed to the infamous Sunset Strip all night fueling frenzies? After all, we know she has a nose for the fun stuff...

It turned out that her band flew back to the east Coast on Tuesday afternoon, to rejoin Sharon Jones (their usual gig) so they could fly off to Europe for shows in France that were starting this week. Did Spaceland even have a chance?

On Saturday night, my dear friend Kevs was at the Roxy for Perez Hilton's birthday party. Kevs is pals with both Perez and the actual Paris, who showed up later. Along with Kelly Osbourne and... ahem, Amy Winehouse. Kevs is one of those people who will say anything to you, pretty much, no matter who "you" are... which is why he walked up to Amy Winehouse and said, "Thanks for cancelling the Spaceland show."

"Wot?" responded Amy, slightly taken aback. Here was a grizzly of a gay man getting all up in her face about Spaceland?

"Thanks for cancelling the Spaceland show, I'd only been looking forward to it for months. Actually, the whole group of people I was supposed to be going with had been looking forward to it for months as well."

"Sorry," said Amy. "But I'll be back!"

"That doesn't matter," huffed Kevin. "I don't want to see you at the Wiltern or wherever you play the next time around. I've liked you since the first album and I was excited to see you in an intimate venue."

"Well, I'll be at Coachella," she said, somewhat flabbergasted.

"I don't want to see you at Coachella," said Kevin. "But I will have my picture taken with you." She had to say yes. Then Kelly Osbourne asked if he'd like to take a picture with her, and he said no. This made Paris Hilton laugh... Good, cuz I would have been laughing my ass off too.

Amy, don't piss off gay men. They are a huge part of your fan base (who does that beehive wig of yours anyway?) and hold grudges.

Like I said, I sure am glad I caught her in Texas...

Big Hair, Big Shows, Big Time

Austin. SXSW. Always hours of pounding the pavement looking for some good music. There is always SO GODDAMN MUCH to see, that whatever I tell you about is simply the tip of the iceberg, as you know. But here's my lame attempt anyhoo:

The Pipettes: totally cute. The girl group thing absolutely did not fall flat live, which, frankly, surprised me. Good job ladies!

Greg Ashley & the Medicine Fuck Dream Road Show: One of those crazy "everyone does a little bit of everything" shows, where it gets a little twangy and gets a whole lot trippy, but is always beyond interesting.

Lily Allen: I think she can melt even the most jaded hipster with her drunken giggles... When she appeared onstage, she proclaimed she'd been drinking beer on the bus the entire day so she was kinda drunk, and that if she'd known the evening was presented by NME she wouldn't have done it. Then she giggled, and everything was ok. Her band was tight, horn section even tighter, and her vocals were spot on and even sassy than on record. Between songs she ragged on the NME, put some guy down for his "tiny penis," told everyone how sick of her single "Smile" she was, and did it dancing along anyway. She was quite a charming bitch, I have to say. I'd have drinks with her!

Honeycut: Bay Area supergroup featuring Bart Davenport and Etienne De Rocher playing bass and harmonizing had me dancing more than anyone else the whole week. It's like super electro funk, Bart's serious soul voice careening over the grooves and delivering all sorts of mayhem. Insanely good stuff. The only problem with the show was the SXSW official playing clockwatcher who kept shoving her cell phone into Bart's face so he could see they were a whole 2 minutes over limit (did no one tell her this was rock and roll???) during the massive "Impeach the President," and Honeycut returned the favor with fake ending after fake ending. Massive showmen - see them in your town!

The Mint Chicks: New wave punk nutjobs out of New Zealand, recalling early Devo (in their scary phase) and very early Talking Heads, but way more spazzy than that... just had the "angular" thing down. I think. There was lots of jumping around to be done. Melodically. Infectious, to be sure!

All Smiles: Caught a tiny bit of this pretty guitar jangly stuff from Jim Fairchild (formerly of Grandaddy) and I liked it. Coming on Dangerbird.

Margot & the Nuclear So & So's: Another one of those really, really exuberant shows were there are lots of people on stage having the time of their lives, playing all kinds of crazy instruments (along with some normal ones) and delivering heartfelt and fun indie pop. It was pretty sweltering in this tent, and we were all melting, but with smiles on our faces.

Booker T (sans MGs), Isaac Hayes, William Bell, Eddie Floyd (Stax 50th anniversary shindig):
Evidently I missed the intro with Isaac Hayes as it took 10 minutes to get everyone inside the building, but he came back later. Booker T got the party started, and just when my friend and I thought the evening was going to be all about the instrumentals, William Bell came on and gave us all his "Private Number." Then Eddie Floyd came on and got us all to 'Knock on Wood" while charming the ladies up front, many years his junior. Isaac returned, and the whole bunch of them did "Sittin' on the Dock of the Bay" with the audience taking care of the whistling part.

Joan As Police Woman: ...and now for something completely different... Joan Wasser of the Dambuilders, who also plays with Antony and the Johnsons, Rufus Wainwright and Tanya Donnely, did her own thing which was in turns soft and frightening or loud and crazed but always... pretty. Her motto is "Beauty is the new punk rock," and I think that suits her very well.

The Photo Atlas: "You'll feel like you're a 16 year old dance punk watching these guys," my friend warned. Well, kinda, but not really. They were too edgy for that. It was definitely groovy, and intense, and I'd almost want to say more like Girls VS Boys than the Faint... except that both of those bands are sexy and these guys were not. It's almost like they were intense and groovy because they had too much caffeine - but still fun!

Amy Winehouse: "Dude, I heard Pete Townsend was going to play with her tonight." "Where'd you hear that?" "Some guy on the phone at some restaurant." "That sounds like a good rumor to spread!" So we did. And he didn't play with her, but he did show up. So did Wayne Coyne. And so did the Dap-Kings, Sharon Jones backing band, but that was because they were doing double time as Winehouse's band as well. As for Amy? She was a tiny woman with gigantic hair only a serious drag queen can truly appreciate, and a booming voice that channels all the torch and sass available in the world in order to dish it right back out at you. "Back to Black" was the standout for me, and "You Know I'm No Good," but really - it was all great. (Good thing I caught her there as she cancelled the Spaceland gig I was going to see last Tuesday...)

The Black Lips: WOW! These guys were totally out of hand. Kinda like those 60's garage bands that just shouted alot, but were still obviously playing together, yet totally out of their heads. These guys were out of their minds, and balls out rocking. Howling mad. At one point, one of the singers, between lines, turned his head and puked. It happened so fast, we didn't even believe we'd seen it till we noticed just a bit of it drying on his chin. He was completely unfazed. Afterwards, he asked if anyone had any water and that was about it. I hear if a show is going well, he pees himself.

Amy Millan: "So last night, I drank many shots of tequila and stage dived. Just so you know where we are coming from today." The adorable singer from Stars and Broken Social Scene was highlighting her own collection of whiskey soaked tunes, which were just as pretty as anything those other bands have done. "Skinny Boy" alone is worth the price of admission.







Stars of Track & Field: I really do dig these guys live... Crunchy swirly noise intermixed with pretty, soft melodies... "Movies of Antarctica" gets me every time.



(Kevin from SOTAF with the stellar Jeff Klein, being sexy.)


Afterhours: The fact that I still don't have this album is stupid. These insanely rocking Italians are moody beasts, and seeing them live is a "wow" experience every time. The play to stadiums even if the room holds 40 people, they are truly rock and roll, and beautiful at the same time.

Buffalo Tom: I only got to see about 3 songs by these guys as the venue was crazy packed, but those three were good. Bill Janowitz is still Bill Janowitz. And I got to stand next to John Doe the whole time, which was beyond a bonus.

The M's: Friends of Wilco, unite! Chicago indie rockers with a little bit of twang and a little bit of psych to 'em.

You Am I: I saw them 2x in one day. They're from Australia! They don't get to come here that often! They totally rock! I now give people an Australian reference to this band as well - cross the Easybeats with the Saints, and you've got You Am I. And if you don't know any of those bands, then part of your rock'n'roll encyclopedia is missing. You Am I is simply one of the greatest rock bands to ever come out of Oz. Done.

Hoodoo Gurus: One of those 80's/early 90's new wavish guitar bands you forgot about, but you know their songs when you hear them... "I Want You Back," "Bittersweet," "What's My Scene," beautiful pop songs that were done with flair this evening - the crowd made the floor vibrate beneath us and the band was beyond happy to be there.

The Good The Bad & The Queen: Another band I saw twice... I didn't mean too, but I fell in love with Paul Simonon after the first show. This is an album that people either love or hate, it seems. I'm in the love category. For Damon Albarn's sequel to Parklife to rally work, showing the gloomy realities of today, he had to get someone from the Thatcherian era to help out, it seems... And it's a low key dubby affair, more like later Specials to me than either Clash or Blur stuff, but with beautiful hooks courtesy of Damon's voice and Paul's bass. Damon was "in character" the whole way - I'm pretty sure they did the album straight though - but Paul played like a panther prowling the stage with a machine gun. Mesmerizing. And they are both sexy as fuck. Really!


Drag the River: I had no idea that the guy from All was doing boozy country rock.

Cloud Cult: I couldn't really see these guys cuz the venue was tiny, but they rocked and made peculiar funky noises, and there were people painting while they were performing. So it was definitely interesting, from what I could see!

Terry Reid: A friend of mine got me into this British folkie who was a contemporary of the Beach Boys in their druggy years (or as he put it, "I went on the boat with Dennis, and lived!"). He had some truly beautiful borderline easy listening tunes back in the day, and he delivered them with quite a sense of humor and a bit more Van Morrison styling than I was expecting, but it was way cool.

Sharon Jones: I love the funk out of this woman. She really is the female James Brown.

The Beasts of Bourbon: This Australian supergroup (which means they are made up of people no one outside of Oz has ever heard of) is like an accessible Birthday Party to me... or Jesus Lizard... Very much a blues rock barroom band, but growling and mean and hilarious and in your face. I heard that back in Oz, they wowed the likes of Rollins and Iggy Pop with their ability to rock.

...and the Saints: An Australian band that made a dent in the punk rock scene with "(I'm) Stranded" back in '77, Chris Bailey ripped out buzzy guitars and pissy vocals which I never considered actually all that punk - it was just fast at the time so it got lumped in there. But they also did some good pop, and they played a fun fast set at the close of SXSW. It even had Johnette Napolitano of Concrete Blonde jumping around barefoot and throwing devil signs.

And that's all. For now. Of COURSE I'll have more stories to tell you later!

Teaser Report

I just got back from SXSW. I think these are all the acts I saw:

The Pipettes, Greg Ashley & the Medicine Fuck Dream Road Show, Lily Allen, Honeycut, the Mint Chicks, Margot & the Nuclear So & So's, Booker T (sans MGs), Isaac Hayes, William Bell, Eddie Floyd (Stax 50th anniversary shindig), Joan As Police Woman, The Photo Atlas, Amy Winehouse, the Black Lips, Amy Millan, Stars of Track & Field, Afterhours, Buffalo Tom, The Ms, You Am I, Hoodoo Gurus, The Good The Bad & The Queen, Drag the River, Cloud Cult, Terry Reid, Sharon Jones, The Beasts of Bourbon and the Saints.

Not as many as last year, but I'm a little under the weather. And I had meetings.

Will tell some stories in the days to come...

Rock N Soul Little Radio

Here's the playlist for last night, where I got my girl groove on (with moments of hippiedom):

Little Radio 3/8/07

Disco 1 - The Mess Hall
Zodiac Killer's Son - The Time Flys
Great Northern Stomp - Otis Spann
Bim Bom - Astrud Gilberto
Ping Pong - Stereolab
Nowhere - Paula Frazier & Tarnation
Laughing - David Crosby
Heavenly Pop Hit - The Chills
The View From the People Wall - Mahogany
He Was Really Sayin' Something - The Velvelettes
Put Yourself in My Place - Jan Panter
Back to Black - Amy Winehouse
Reflections - The Supremes
I Can't Let Go - Evie Sands
Come See About Me - The Afghan Whigs
Wild Vanilla - Kristin Hersh
Headsfull - Amy Millan
Revolver - Isobell Campbell & Mark Lanegan
Faith to Arise - Terry Reid
Watch the Sunrise - Big Star
Just Ain't No Love - Barbara Acklin
Ooh Child - Dusty Springfield
Oh No Not My Baby - Maxine Brown
Llorando - Rebekah Del Rio
Too Tough To Die - Martina Topley Bird
We Fucked It All Up - Machine Gun Blues
Nature of the Experiment - Tokyo Police Club
My Boy Lollipop - Minnie Small
Your Kisses Are Wasted On Me - The Pipettes
Sophisticated Boom Boom - The Goodies
Indian Ropeman - Julie Driscoll w/ Brian Auger & the Trinity
The Rooster - OutKast
How Long Do I Have to Wait For You - Sharon Jones
Inner City Blues - Marvin Gaye
Loving You Is Sweeter Than Ever - Delroy Wilson
Carry, Go, Bring, Come - Justin Hinds & the Dominoes

And next week, we're all off to Austin... see you there?

East Vs. West

Today on Little Radio, I had a special guest... My friend Tanya, visiting from Berlin, did some tag tam battle on the turntables with me and whipped out some fabulous new stuff as well as speaking sexily in German for any of the folks out there who have a thing for that.

So here's the playlist!

Little Radio 3/1/07

Somebody Led Me Away - Neko Case
Be For Real - Marlena Shaw
Blaulicht and Zwielicht - Element of Crime
Herculean - The Good The Bad and the Queen
Eternal Flame - Joan As Police Woman
I'm Fried - The Stooges
Good Not Great - Mission of Burma
I Can Only Give You Everything - MC5
The Resurrection Machine - Teledubgnosis
Shame For You - Lily Allen
Carnival - The Cardigans
Blessed Night - Howling Bells
B4 We Go Under - Barbara Manning
Burning - The Whitest Boy Alive
Publish My Love - Rogue Wave
Turbulence (Bis remix) - Arab Strap
Barracuda - Miho Satori
Alles Was Lebt Bewegt Sich - Barbara Morgenstern
You Ain't the Only Man (God Created) - Jeanie Reynolds
Crumbs Off the Table - Laura Lee
i'll Be your NETting - Belka and Strelka
Crystalline Green - Goldfrapp
Hungriges Herz - Mia.
Waking Up - Elastica
I Make Hamburgers - The Whitlams
Young Folks - Peter Bjorn & John
Mr. Grieves - TV on the Radio

Next week will totally be all American again. Kinda.

2/15/07 - Oz Playlist, Part Deux

More and more Australia music... the second and final solid shot. I must say, good show tonight! No technical glitches, the regular mild distractions from friends, tons of fantastic music. Thanks, Oz.

2/15/07 Little Radio Playlist
Oz - Part II

Stranded - The Saints
You Got Nothing I Want - Cold Chisel
Viva La Fever - Snowman
Disoc 1 - The Mess Hall
Misery Loves Company - The Devoted Few
Explain - Sarah Blasko
Lovely Time - Crayon Fields
This Time - The Drones
Future - Cut Copy
Kitty in the Middle - Presets
Pines - Death Mattel
Devil Song - The Red Sun Band
Kosciusko - Midnight Oil
Big Black Car - Mexico City
Afternoon - Big Low
I Don't Care - Youth Group
Life Styling - Muzzy Pep
I Want You Back - Hoodoo Gurus
Changin' the Weather - Kill Devil Hills
She Don't Do Dat - Spurs For Jesus
Chase the Dragon - Beasts of Bourbon
Get You Up - I Love Space
Sleepin' - Sun (remix by Hrvatski)
Looking for a Rabbit - Laura Imbruglia
Friday Heading North - Errol Jim
Casino Lights - Richmond Fontaine
Any Old Time - Tim Rogers & Tex Perkins
See Ya Home Tonight - The Pictures
Good Times - Inxs and Jimmy Barnes

And indeed, they were good times, mate...

Strange Angel

Obviously, I like music. And I am a HUGE fan of Kristin Hersh (formerly Throwing Muses, currently 50 Foot Wave, and always, full-on solo artist). Almost every time she releases a solo album, I'm in the midst of a personal crisis with a boy. Generally, it's the same two boys (only because I'm such a fan of long term relationships). The first time I met her was to do an interview at KALX, Berkeley about a decade ago, and I mentioned this in passing, jokingly. She responded, "Well, I guess I'm gonna have to just stop putting out records so you can have a love life!"

Of course, I couldn't let her do THAT... So here she is with a new record, and here I am with a new crisis. A bit different this time around though.

In the midst of my ongoing (but somehow getting used to it) crisis, which involves one extremely sick mom, I began to take stock. Not purposely - but you know, when shit hits the fan you sort of re-evaluate what's around you and how it can back you up. Mainly I'm talking about friends. I've always believed that Friends Are the Family You Create for Yourself. And I am lucky enough to have amazing friends, some I've known my whole life, some half my life, some just a few years... but they pretty much all fucking rule.

So when one of my friends chose this moment in time to go AWOL and subsequently unpleasant, well, it was a bummer.

Then I got my new Kristin Hersh CD back. I'd had it for a bit and listened... thought it was ok... lent it to a friend while I went traveling and wound up being away from home much longer than I thought. When I finally made it back, I was able to sit down and give a listen fully to "Learn to Live Like A Star." One song leapt out at me, because, well, I'd just felt that way a week before! Like exactly.

Of course, I'm over it now. The friend bit, that is. I am still fortunate to have great friends and they have never been so great as they are right now. But sometimes, someone bums you out and there ain't no fixing it. And right now, I sadly have much, much more important things to tend to than any additional drama, even if it means losing a friend for good.

But I really wish Ms. Hersh would stop singing it, because it seems like then I wind up living it, just for a moment.

Okay, I really don't wish that.

Kristin Hersh will be at Amoeba Hollywood this Saturday (2/17) at 2pm, and at Amoeba San Fransisco this Sunday (2/18) at 2pm, if you wanna catch her!

*******************************************

Wild Vanilla

Wild vanilla
Clean dreams downcast eyes
If you lived here you’d been home now and suicidal
That was one striking phone call boy,
Your voice at a fever pitch
And here I thought that you're just full of white noise, called to bitch

You messing with my head makes a terrible noise

Wild vanilla
Green eyes and greasy hair
Cross an ocean and you (vague and itchy) belong there
You are whizzing past my ears a
Shit scared domestic god
You make the gypsy in me horny for a flower garden

You messing with my head makes a terrible noise

Li'l Radio 2/8/07 - the fucked up Oz edition

So I had this great idea: for my triumphant return to the Little Radio cyber waves, why not play all the music I bought/received while in Australia? And a couple I already had? No brainer. Except that in my rush to leave the house and get to the station on time, I spilled everything out of my bag and onto my cat, who needed immediate apologies. A few important CDs slipped under the bed and the show was cut short.

Then there were the technical difficulties, like a fussy CD player and me forgetting to turn off the mic for a Guitar Hero interlude.

Welcome home! Here's the playlist for tonight:

Her Own Life - Tex Perkins
Surly - Laura Imbruglia
You Should See Her Now - Tim Rogers
The Black Tide - Snowman
The Weight of the Sea - Bluebottle Kiss
Are You the One - The Presets
Don't Even See Me - Dimmer
(untitled track) - I Love Space
What A Hell'uva Woman - Blue Ruin
Tryin' To Forget About You - The Kill Devil Hills
Would It Be So Strange - Crayon Fields
Good Times - Easybeats
This Is Your Last Chance to Be famous, My Love- The Mint Chicks
I Got You - Split Enz
Diversions - Betchadupa
Deanna (acoustic) - Nick Cave & the Bad Seeds
If You Never Leave - The Pictures
A Month of Sundays - The Church
Sleepin' - Sun
Estuary Bed - The Triffids
Thuggery - You Am I
Time Stands Still - Cut Copy

I may just do all Oz next week too... stay tuned!

Remember Me Like This

One week back in the States... one week of losing my lovely hard earned Sydney tan under the harsh hospital flourescents I've been subjected to since last Tuesday. When your mom is in the hospital, you go. Differences, grievances, difficulties aside to be dealt with later.

I knew my mom was sick the day I flew out. I found out that day... "Go," said Dad. "We'll just be doing tests, nothing much will change." Sadly, that wasn't true. Alot changed, and my mom was hospitalized the day after I returned.

My hometown, Encinitas, is alot like small towns in Australia. In fact, I've often told people that I think what I like so much about Australia is that it reminds me of the San Diego I grew up in. The beaches for sure. My parents' place is about 3 miles off the coast - we used to ride our bikes to the beach as kids. Grab some Mexican food for lunch, stay there all day...

The hospital is right by my high school, both of which have ocean views. It's colder here than it was in Sydney (well, it is summer down there) and a bit cloudy, but that Pacific sparkles just the same for me. It has always been a calming thing for me, my ocean, my private beach, my Encinitas.

Having the memories of my recent Sydney sensory overload crashing with my current surreal family beachfront drama is making one song stick in my head... It doesn't really have much to do with either, but it's there anyway. It's beautiful Van Morrison rip off by an Australian band, the Triffids, called "New Year's Greeting (The Country Widower)." When I was in Sydney in 1999, leaving on December 30th (I was determined to do the year 2000 with my friends back home in Cali), this was the last song I heard on the radio (Triple J, yum). It's on their last album, The Black Swan ('89), which is long out of print... I heard they were being reissued in the UK, but God knows... Singer/songwriter David McComb passed away after a car accident in 1999.

I have it on a tattered old mixed tape my ex-boyfriend Tim made for me to listen to the first time I traveled to Australia and New Zealand. If you can find it, give it a listen. It's beautiful. Thunderstorms and peace, moonlight and chaos, sort of how things seem to be right now...

New Year's Greeting (The Country Widower)

I got a little place to myself up on Stony Ridge
I got it made in the shade
Sleep in till the afternoon - leave my bed unmade...
No one breathing down my neck,
Black coffee in the shade
Whistle a little of whatever AM radio plays
As for letters and provisions -
Well, it's a long walk to the cornershop
It's January - it's a big decision
To either think of you, or not

And I'll send you a new year's kiss and I hope you will remember me like this...
I'll send you a new year's kiss...

I've got two good arms one bad leg,
One weekly social security check
I can make an honest dollar but I can't keep track of where it went
I got a good black dog, so I don't need a phone
He smells bad weather coming in his old dog bones
Don't need no eyewitness news, no 7/11
No eyewitness news, no 7/11
No southern fried chicken, no man from Prudential give me
Good times, easy terms, eyewitness news...

In the evening when the skyline is cut in two
By a figure closely resembling you
When matches won't light, and I'll double take
Wind shudders to a halt, and maiden roads are washed out
And all around, as far as the eye can see
And all around, as far as the eye can see
And all around, as far as the night can see
just the gaping mouths of you and me

(I'll send you a new year's kiss... I'll send you a new year's kiss...)

Well I hear you're riding a new horse in the sun
I hear you're riding a new horse in the sun
Sure hope those Sydney shoeshine boys don't take you for a run
I still want you back when it's all said and done

Let the sky roll back
Let the ground give way
The season's upside down
The wind has turned around
To either think of you
...or not

(ps: RIP Juli's mom)

Rockaway Beach

This weekend in Sydney was, well, sweltering. In many ways.

Saturday was just a nice stroll through Newtown, which reminds me alot of Berkeley. Little cinema playing the indie films, a couple nice record shops, thrift stores (didn't find anything good though), boutiques, and about a million Thai restaurants. And cafes. The main drag, King Street, goes on for a while and there were plenty of folks milling about. Hipster couples, lesbians that look like 12 year old boys, babies with Ramones t-shirts on - you know.

Saturday night though... Well, that was some trouble. Probably because I was hanging out with my other friend Nick, an absolute wild man who knows anyone in any band in this country (I'm convinced). We started out at the Hopetoun Hotel, which had a room perhaps the size of the Silverlake Lounge crammed packed with people. (Keep in mind it had been nearly 100 degrees this day.) We checked out a band called Belles Will Ring, who were pretty amazing. Anyone who is a fan of that current wave of dreamy popsters who have a touch of 60's to them (think Rogue Wave or Fruit Bats) would dig this band, and they tossed in a little shoegaze as well. Fantastic.

They were followed by Dappled Cities Fly. This was a band a friend had emailed me about earlier... "Since you're in Australia, Mo, see if this band is playing." Then Nick mentioned, the same day, that they were playing. "You know, they recorded in LA - with someone from Grandaddy." "Really?" I said. "Was it at New Monkey Studios, perhaps?" It was. My friends own that studio. Formerly Elliott Smith's studio. Go figure.

So the band was fun - they came in with giant balloons and proceeded to nerdrock hard with occasional new wave keyboards. (I kept thinking of the Shins, although that isn't totally right.) I wasn't as into them as the other band, but they were still fun. To be fair, though, by this point the entire party I was with was well under the influence of drinks and a few mind altering substances, so we left and went to Vegas.

Vegas is a "secret" club (I stopped into it the night of the Twilight Singers show, but couldn't stay) which is tucked away within a totally gross dance club. I guess you have to wind your way through the Euro trash to get to the cool kids? Regardless, we went there with a guy named Bo who it turns out was in a band of note whose name I've completely forgotten at the moment. Damn drugs! We were joined by his bandmate Nick (everyone is named Nick here!) for a while. I was introduced to the DJ - a sweet young thing named Owen - who was doing mostly garage rock and actually had my Mummies request. This means that when it was played, I got up and yelled a bit.

Once the "influences" wore off, I was wiped out and wandered home. The next day was a beach day, my last full day in Australia...

I took the bus to the Waverly Cemetary - one of my favorite places in Sydney just because it's so beautiful. An old, and old school, cemetary, stacked with marble angels and crosses, on a beach cliffside. Since it was a gorgeous day, the blue sky and the blue sea behind these bleached white memorials just wowed me. Like last time.

Then a short walk to some other beaches before landing at Tamarama (which I hear is nicknamed Glamarama), a beautiful and sundrenched beach. Today I actually took a swim. I couldn't tell you how - perhaps it was just that hot - because the water was fucking freezing. I'd been cooling off in the water on previous beach trips, but today it seemed positively arctic. (At a lifeguard tower, they had noted: "air temp: 97 degrees. water temp: 57 degrees. Can't remember it ever being that cold!" So there you go.)

After Tamarama, it was a walk along the cliffs to Bondi, where hung out and read for a while before meeting with my other friend Nick for dinner. This Nick I've known since about 1994, a silly and vibrant person with, truly, a heart of gold. Talya couldn't join us, but we had some great quality time before saying goodbye. We even drove around and tried to find a place to view Comet McNaught, a comet in the Southern Hemisphere visible to the naked eye (thanks for the info, Dad!). I'd been thwarted by tall buildings and city lights all week, this evening it was a hazy sky and no stars were visible...

And that's it. I'm on my way home. The whole time I've been here, I've had one song running through my head... The Church's "A Month of Sundays." The tone of it is so beautiful, the sound of it reminds me of this place. Find it online and give it a listen if you can.

Bye, Sydney...

A Month of Sundays

Badmans woman with that look in her eye
You stop to wonder as she passes by
Something inside you is never the same
Something outside you is always to blame
Follow her home where she lives with some friends
They have some good things to add to the blend
The games expanded, invaded the place
Youre the only one whos forgotten his face

Youre saying no no no I must be on my way
But it really has been a pleasant night
And you go so slow hope they'll ask you to stay
And indifference gives you a fright

Walking outside you come to a door
You go inside and you wonder what for
At least its good to be out of the wind
You turn around and the clocks all begin
Just like the winter your memory thaws
Just like the ocean your memory pours
So many pieces to match or to find
So many doubts to have in one mind

It's hard to see how the tables have turned
It's hard to see how the people have learned
It's hard to watch the past drizzling past
It's hard to watch them picking the cast
And it stacks up badly that it never makes sense
You sense that sensation is whos paying the rent
And she beckons to you with her fingers and lies
She says: cant you slice the price of your paradise...

Only A Nobody Walks in L.A.

On thing I really enjoy about my vacations is that I do lots of walking. Lots. Like miles and miles every day. Yesterday turned into one of those days.

I started out by taking to ferry to Watson's Bay, which was a beautiful little fishing inlet over a 100 years old. I had intended to wander up to Lady Bay, an "exclusive gay nudist" beach. Although Talya and I are neither "exclusive" or "gay," we opted to try the "nudist" bit. But there was no bus service to the beach, and the walk would have taken an hour, and we already had a hike planned, and then had to depart from a different ferry...

So no nudie action. We did make it to Shark Beach though for more average topless stuff.

We also went to Vaucluse House, which is just an old mansion in a rich suburb overlooking the beach. Beautiful grounds with a creek and everything. There was some sort of fashion shoot going on, and as we walked past along the trail, a guy from the shoot made sure to let us know "We're doing a shoot here, so don't get in the way."

My immediate response was, "Please. I'm from L.A."

What I found most interesting about the history of the family that lived in Vaucluse House was that, although they were rich, they were outcast by "Sydney Society" because they came from poor origins. Unmarried convict parents, that sort of thing. Rose from the depths to become monetarily successful, had a great family life, but rejected by society. What I find ridiculous about this is that the majority of white folks on this continent sprang from the same roots - it was founded mainly by England's rejects: convicts and the like. There wasn't a whole lot of "noble" blood here to begin with.

So anyway...

The hours long trek back to Rose Bay took us along clifftops and through bushland with massive spiders and all sorts of crawly things we heard but didn't see. I escaped with only 2 mosquito bites.

I get teased for walking in LA, but walking is a pretty awesome thing. You see all kinds of little things you would miss otherwise. And in a place like Australia, you better be paying attention or something can bite you on the ass. Literally. With lots of venom. I was lucky it was just a li'l ole mozzy.

Thank You For the Music

I did three things of note today. Touched a koala, bought shitload of records, and got drunk at the Annandale Hotel.

I went to the zoo. I know, I know, SO touristy, but I fuckin' like the zoo. Especially when you're in a country filled with freaky animals (only New Zealand can top it for the pure freak factor). I walked right up to a wallaby for a pic; it absolutely did not care. But the best is that if you pay a little extra, you can get right up in with the koalas. Now, they are pretty much stoned out of their minds all the time on eucalyptus, so they don't even notice you're there. But the one I stood next to woke up when I got there, and started scratching himself, like THERE, when I sidled up to him. Such a boy! But very soft. Kinda like my cat.

After the zoo, I went to the amazing Red Eye Records for some shopping. I essentially spent the equivalent of my rent there. (I'm only joking a little.) A nice guy named Matt helped me out. I showed him what I was getting that I already knew, and he added on. Only bands from Oz & a couple NZ ones I had to catch up on. As we talked a bit, he was incredibly impressed that I A) had worked info at Amoeba ("the best record store in the world, I'm told!") and B) had DJed at KALX for a decade. Made me very proud of my alma maters (or however you spell that).

Then, on to the Annandale with my friend Nick. The Annandale is a bit like Spaceland - sort of the up-and-coming spot for bands breaking through, cool new stuff, etc. Here were the cute hipster boys! Bonus. We had a couple schooners of New (pints of Toohney's, I think) and I got drunk. I also was enthralled by Gareth Liddiard and Mike Noga, of the band the Drones, who were absolutely amazing. Very intense - I guess as a band they rock pretty hard, so I was seeing an acoustic performance which was unusual for them on all accounts. I felt pretty lucky. Headlining was Loene Carmen, who was magical in her own right. Sort of an Aussie cross between Hope Sandoval and Bjork, with dreamy (but not reverby) guitar. Wonderful.

Music was what brought me to Australia the first time around, and I'm glad it's as great as I remembered...

Black Hole Sun

Something happened to me yesterday that has never happened to me before. I got a sunburn.

This is really quite shocking. I know that Australia is the place where the ozone hole resides, and I took extra care to SPF up (even though I have a nice natural pigment that usually withstands that whole burning thing), but I guess I forgot yesterday when I went for my walk around the harbor and now I have a lovely burn that traces my tank top.

So much for the topless sunbathing effect from Bondi.

Regardless, I hopped back on the ole cancer horse and took the ferry to lovely Manly Beach today, where I wandered to the far, far end of the beach. Away from screaming children and men in speedos (this beach was a bit more touristy than Bondi). There were a couple surfers and a few other gals going topless, so I again joined in. Kinda. Had to sort of cover that burn. I'm going to have all sorts of confusing lines when I get back.

The ferry ride back was wonderful (thanks in part to some home made ice cream I'd picked up along the way), but the best thing about it was the fact that I had two lovely old ladies to eavesdrop on. They had obviously been friends for ages. They were talking about art and culture and architecture and men. At one point, Old Swedish lady pointed at a restaurant next to the Opera House and said, "I had a nice lunch there with a man - but I've always wondered what dinner would be like." Old English friend said, "Why didn't you two have dinner?" "Well, he was 80 years old and won't go out at night anymore."

This made me chuckle a bit, and they caught me. Old Swedish lady said, "We take what we can get!" and we all laughed. I said, " Are you kidding? I don't even get lunch!" They liked that. It turned out they had been friends for 60 years, having met on family vacations in England, and stayed close all these years. Swedish lady lives in Sydney now, and English lady visits her every summer. When they got off the ferry, they were giggling about something... It was just so nice, to see old friends like that. It made me feel especially lucky to have as many friends as I do, whom I've known forever. And hope to keep knowing.

And maybe one day we'll take some exotic vacations together and giggle about men. (I'm looking at you, Rachael.)

After I cleaned up, I ate the fanciest and tastiest dinner I've ever had in my whole life, got hit on hardcore by a nerdy Italian man, and checked out the sky because my Dad wants me to get a picture of this comet that's just come into Sydney's skyline. I didn't see it tonight, but I've got a few more days to find it...

Take A Walk on the Wild Side

Today involved lots and lots of walking. And looking at prehistoric birds, amazing panoramas, and loads of water. Even more than at the beach yesterday.

I met my friend Talya at Circular Quay, which is pretty much the main transport hub in Sydney and right next to the Opera House. And the Opera House is truly a beautiful thing, up close and personal. The tiles have a lovely shimmer... I've been in love with it since the first time I saw it. We went to walk to Harbor Bridge. Now, there's a walk you can do in teams, tied together with ropes, which takes you over the top of the thing for the best view ever. You pay for this view by handing over a pile of cash and all of your fears. We kept our fears and our money and went up the 200 stairs to the museum bit which had just as lovely a view, without potential deadly results.

Then we went to the botanical gardens where the fruit bats were stretching in their palm trees and the giant black headed bald crane like things were trying to steal our sandwiches. Don't even get me started on the giant cockatoos, the bastards. But it was beautiful, just trudging along the harbor.

We also took a ferry to Luna Park, where Talya then confessed she wouldn't ride any rollercoasters with me. Why is it so hard to find a rollercoaster buddy these days? Sigh...

A trip to the Sydney tower was next for more touristy views, to be capped by the OzTrek. It was mandatory. It was drek. A very low rent version of a Disneyland "Soaring Over California" thing, except with more whiplash and a corny narrator. But kinda fun anyway.

Then a stop in the Strand, a gorgeous mall built in 18-something or other filled with Australian designer clothes that would have looked great on us if we had loads of cash. So where are my rich Aussie hunky men?

I know, I keep adding qualifications. But you know what? I still have one hell of a tan.

Let the Sunshine In

Yesterday was totally all about the beach. Beach beach beach. Bondi Beach, to be exact. The place where The Oils (Midnight Oil) got their start. A former working man's beach which was most recently the sight of the Olympic volleyball tournaments.

After a bit of confusion trying to meet Nick & Talya (it's both glorious to be without a cellphone and annoying, but there are payphones everywhere), I wound up doing a little bit of beach shopping (more dresses - I'm becoming a complete dress queen) and I just went to the water.

Bondi Beach is a glorious swath of light sand, surrounded by wedges of stone and tidepools that would make my Dad drool. On one end were the children and the dogs, on the other were the surfers, and inbetween were the common folk like myself.

I chose the surfer side.

I spent the day reading topless. Oh yes, you can do the topless thing here! Fortunately, I was all one color anyway so it wasn't like I was suddenly flashing anything too blinding. And I was surrounded by other girls for the wandering surfers to check out as well. I felt a little naughty, but it was far too fun.

I was reading "Lords of Chaos," that book about the Norweigan death metal scene where the guys in the "Black Circle" go about burning churches and killing strangers because they know that is how to truly be "evil." It's a fascinating read. After a couple hours on the beach I had noticed a group of crazy Asian dudes, all older - like in their 60's - wandering the beach and asking groups of girls if they could take pictures. One of them meandered over to me... thankfully, I was lying on my stomach at this point so he couldn't get the full frontal.

He squatted alongside me and smiled. "Yes?" I said. He pointed at himself and said, "I am from Korea." I pointed at myself and said, "California." (I tend to respond with "California" if anyone asks me where I'm from. I like that better than the United States.) He said, "I am from South Korea." I responded, "I am from Los Angeles." He looked at me wistfully and said, "Can you speak Korean?" I answered, "I can speak no Korean at all, sorry." (I've been mistaken for alot of things, but Korean ain't one of them. He looked very sad for a minute, then leaned over and put his hands on my book. It happened to be open to a picture of Dead from the group Mayhem after blowing his brains out (said brain sitting on the floor and the walls covered in blood). He sort of caressed the book and I lamely said, "Um, it's about heavy metal?" Then he sadly walked away.

At the end of my day I had some fish and chips on the seaside and convinced the hunky guy behind the counter to take a break and sit with me for a minute. He was funny, said he wasn't going to give me my food unless I gave him a smile and I said, "In that case, you're stuck sitting with me, because my laugh is better than the smile." Sold! Good one, huh? But I left him and his pooka shell necklace at Bondi, and went back to my place in CBD (downtown) for a wash before heading out for a walk in nighttime Sydney.

Lost in Wonderamaland

I'm in Sydney, Australia. The weather is beautiful - it's the summer I missed in '06. I've already done lots of wandering, found myself in a secret "rock and roll" club, seen my friends the Twilight Singers perform a terrific show, caught a movie, done some shopping, seen some friends... and only have scant minutes here before I head off to the gorgeous Bondi Beach for a day of lazing under the ozone hole. Still distracted by troubles at home, but there's nothing like crashing waves on sandy shores at shark infested beaches to help you think less of that...

Greg said on Saturday night that I was already talking like an Australian. I tried to tell him that I always seem to pick up mannerisms like that and he goes, "Mo, I get it. You're a myna bird. I just get to bust your balls for it." So when I get back, if I'm still saying things like, "I'll ring you up so we can go for a bite and perhaps a bit of a drink, that would be fantastic," just think it's cute before it wears off.

Oh, and this computer won't let me check my own profile because evidently there are naughty words there, so if you are commenting... it'll be news to me for another week or so.

I already don't want to come home. Can't I just play on the beach with some hunky Aussie guy who just wants a little pash & dash? Well, that remains to be seen... ;)

So, armed with the hottest bikini I've ever had, an adorable sundress and unlaced Keds (flats, people - I'm actually wearing flats), I'm off to the beach. I hope y'all don't hate me too much.

XO

Myna

Lucky Number 7

The 7" Special, part 2
Dang, I gots me some cool 7"s!

Little Radio Playlist 12/21/06
First Day of Winter Edition

7"inches only (who wants less?)

That's Rock and Roll - Shaun Cassidy
Hideaway - Comet Gain
I Second That Emotion - Smokey Robinson & the Miracles
Prove It - Betty Everett
Raspberry Beret - Prince
Bad Ninja - Rocket From the Crypt
Stronger Than Dirt - The Mummies
Stepping Stone - The Monkees
Pop Music - M
Sweat - Shizuo
Sara Smile - Hall & Oates
Every Little Bit Hurts - Brenda Holloway
What Goes Up - The Clientele
Talking Loud & Clear - O.M.D.
Cup to the Wall - Satisfact
Press Play & Record - Lois
Operator - Actionslacks
I Want You Back - Hoodoo Gurus
I Wanna Be With You - The Raspberries
The Man Who Sold the World - David Bowie
I'm Ready - Twilight Singers (Lo Fidelity Allstars Mix)
You Ain't the Only Man (God Created) - Jeanie reynolds
Jackie Blue - Ozark Mountain Daredevils
Hello Hello Hi - From Bubblegum to Sky
Here Kitty Kitty - Lunchbox
(a little bit of "Feed the World" from those Band-Aid people)
Late Bar - Duran Duran
I Feel Love - Donna Summer
Kids In America - Kim Wilde
Driver's Seat - Sniff N the Tears
Red Eye to Nashville - Brillantines
Breathless - X
I'll Catch You When You Fall - Betty Lavette
Plus de Liasons - Tindersticks
Careless Memories - Duran Duran

Next week will be that "Top Ten" type stuff, I promise...

We Don't Have to Take Our Clothes Off

Li'l Radio 12/7/06 - the naked edition

No, I wasn't naked, but there was a photo shoot going on in the warehouse that night and other people were naked. And cold. Very, very cold. Poor girls! (If I could remember the name of the dude taking the pictures, I'd provide the link for you... but all I remember was that he had a bunch of Morrissey tattoos.)

Little Radio Playlist

Bear Up Bison - Shonen Knife
You Can't Hurry Love - The Concretes
A View of the City From A Plane - Oranger
Eddie's Gun - The Kooks (live @ Abbey Road)
Sons & Daughters - The Decemberists
Faith to Arise - Terry Reid
Rockin' Chair - The Band
Hospital Beds - Cold War Kids
New Orlans - Elvis Presley
Hip Hug Her - Booker T & the MGs
I'm A Good Woman - Cold Blood
Valley of the Afro Temple - Eccentric Afros
Hong Kong Garden - Siouxsie & the Banshees
More Is More - Komeda
If You Want Me To Stay - Sly & the Family Stone
Exotic Talk - RJD2
Sweet Talk - Spank Rock
Shake Your Rump - Beastie Boys
Shut Up & Sit Down - The Sultans
Motorcycle - Love & Rockets
Visible Cow - Barkmarket
99 Problems - Jay-Z
Maniac Blues - Bellrays
Polar Bear - Ride
The Lure Would Prove Too Much - Twilight Singers
Red Guitar - David Sylvian
Do It Again - Steely Dan
How Do I Let A Good Man Down - Sharon Jones & the Dap Kings
Grapefruit Moon - Tom Waits
Weary Memory - Iron & Wine
Falling In Love Again - Marlene Dietrich