52 Weeks of Music - Week 5 - I Feel Cream by Peaches

[Reader Advisory: This post contains explicit and exquisite lyrics.]

"Big trouble in little Mangina..."
from the song "Billionaire" by Peaches

I first learned about Peaches several years ago. Of course I heard "Boys Wanna Be Her" in the movie Whip It, but I was a fan even before that.

A couple of years ago, I came across a fan video on YouTube of "Slippery Dick" where the song plays over a video montage of Divine, the John Waters drag superstar. (See video below.)



As far as I know, this is just a fan video, but since I've always loved Divine, the song stuck with me. There are tons of videos on YouTube and I've included a couple more at the end of the post.

I don't buy music as much as I used to, mainly because I am drowning in CDs and I don't want to put much more stuff on my computer, for fear it will crash. But for my birthday and Christmas gifts in 2009, I got some iTunes gift cards, and one thing that was for sure on my list was "Slippery Dick."

I listened to some more Peaches tracks from the album, Impeach My Bush, but I wasn't thrilled. "Slippery Dick" was it for me for the time being. Yet later I came back to iTunes for more and wound up buying the more current album I Feel Cream.

I Feel Cream has some great rhythms, and the sound is much more eclectic. If there's one thing that can truly describe my taste in music, it's eclectic, so I bought the album. It resides on my iPod, there for when my mood is down and I need a little subversive electroclash pop to perk me up. It's my favorite album to listen to while I work out.

Like the art of Robert Mapplethorpe, Peaches music and videos are not everyone's cup of tea. But the way Peaches explores themes like gender identity, body image and sexuality is utterly fascinating to me. In an age of vapid pop stars like Katy Perry and Britney Spears, I'm glad we have Peaches.

On a side note, I was shocked however when I heard "Talk to Me" on the Muzak at work. They finally changed the channels up after the holidays this year. I get to hear Peaches, Pink, and even the Scissor Sisters. It doesn't ruin I Feel Cream for me yet. In fact, I would say that it might get more people aware of Peaches shear genius as a lyricist and performer.





Peaches - I Feel Cream on Wikipedia


I Feel Cream album link for iTunes

52 Weeks of Music, Week 4 - London Calling by the Clash

I am not much of an expert on punk rock, but I know great music when I hear it. From the angry stacatto strumming of the title track that opens the album to the plaintive harmonica that trails off the ending, London Calling is a great album.

As the youngest of four kids, my musical tastes were somewhat patterned after my older siblings, though largely my oldest sister. She opened me up to the throaty ballads of Neil Diamond's Hot August Night and the shear poetry of Simon & Garfunkel's Concert in Central Park, but I always wanted more.

The Indiana suburbs of the early 1980s were not really a welcoming place for the strange world and sounds of punk. The most risque things got around our house was when my sister bought Prince records, or years later when I bought some Prince CDs. There wasn't really room in this tepid tableau for the social commentary of British punk. My recollection was that it seemed to all be written off as dirty because of bands with names like the Sex Pistols were too controversial. I remember the fight over radios playing George Michael's "I Want Your Sex" which they had to dub over with "I Want Your Love." Even in 2011, censorship reigns supreme, with CeeLo Green's "Forget You" instead of the original "Fuck You."

But the Clash sneaked into my world in barely perceptible ways. I remember the songs "Rock the Casbah" and "Should I Stay or Should I Go?" from the original airings on the radio. They sort of faded into the cacophony of my musical memory, but somehow they would germinate later in life, eventually growing into a deep appreciation for the band's fluid and adaptable aesthetic.

Sometime in the late 1990s, I heard the song "Lost in the Supermarket" on a local alternative radio station and fell in love with its cockeyed view of crass consumerism. I would go on to immerse myself in learning more about the band. Considering "Lost in the Supermarket" was released in 1979, its applicability to the late 1990s was eerily prescient, if not just downright creepy.

So I bought the London Calling CD and love to give it a listen every now and then. The album is ecclectic in its sounds. See the aforementioned electric guitar and harmonica. But it's almost depressing to listen to today, with the context of the interceding 30 years. The prophets of punk decried the future and we didn't listen. That is to say, "Lost in the Supermarket" could pretty much be taken as a prophecy about the 2008 Market Crash.

But then, if you listen to the rest of the album, you can get lost in its other messages, so to speak. I think it's pretty powerful prose and poetry. It's almost gleeful with subversion.

If you get a chance, listen to the whole album and then try to imagine if any artist today could foretell the future so eloquently. Of course, hindsight is always perfect. Foresight is ambiguous. I guess just get up and dance.



London Calling on Wikipedia

52 Weeks of Music - Week 3 - Gordon by the Barenaked Ladies

[Author's Note: I've been a bit under the weather, and the weather's been lousy. I apologize for the tardiness of this post.]

This may sound strange coming from a gay man, but I love Barenaked Ladies. Of course, I mean the musical group. I know, it's a terrible joke. I came to them quite by accident in the mid-1990s, along with some of my other favorite music. Their song "What a Good Boy" appeared in the movie Stonewall, which was one of the first gay movies I ever saw. (As a matter of digression, I first saw Rocky Horror Picture Show, Priscilla Queen of the Desert, Jeffrey, and then Stonewall.)

"What a Good Boy" is a lovely ballad that deals with forbidden love, though not explicitly gay. Still the song was a perfect fit for the end credits of the film, and I wanted to hear it more. This was in the early days of the Internet kids, so I actually combed used record stores looking for the Barenaked Ladies. While visiting my sister in Tennessee, I found the Stonewall soundtrack CD in a used record shop and bought it. It was filled with classic tunes by 1960s girl groups, and then it also had "What a Good Boy." I felt satisfied for a few weeks, but kept up my search. I eventually found the current album Born on a Pirate Ship at Target, where I worked at the time. It was one of those goofy multimedia CDs that had music and flash and quicktime. It was a good album, but it just wasn't hitting the spot for me.

I eventually found Gordon at Best Buy and bought it. I loved it. The funky beats mixed with harmonious tones and notes was the perfect thing to help me transcend my working class existence, and the fact that I had to move back in with my parents.

I went on to share the Barenaked Ladies with my best friend, my sisters, my first and second boyfriends, and just about everyone. I think I created somewhat of a cult following among my fellow Targeteers.

I almost consider the boys in the Barenaked Ladies my first real boyfriend, as I bonded with them through their music before I dated anybody. I actually had to buy the CD twice because I left it at a boyfriend's house or something. But I definitely didn't mind paying them royalties again. To this day, Gordon makes me feel good. He was the best boyfriend I had, before my current one of course.

Of course, I would be remiss if I didn't mention the eventual departure of Steven Page, one of the two lead vocalists for Barenaked Ladies. I don't know much about it, because over the years, my fandom has waned. I still have all of their major albums since Gordon, and there may be another one that strikes me later in the year. Until then, you'll have to explore them for yourself.



Gordon on Wikipedia.

Album Link on iTunes.

52 Weeks of Music. Week 2 Party Doll and Other Favorites, Mary Chapin Carpenter

I had a brief flirtation with Country music during its 1990s heyday. This was the era of Garth Brooks, Reba McEntire, and a slew of other superstars. I adored Garth's everything and Reba's glamour and charm, but I absolutely loved everything about Mary Chapin Carpenter.

Her lyrics in her 90s "commercial" hits ranged from boisterous to scolding, running the full gamut of human emotions. I loved "Shut Up and Kiss Me" and "I Feel Lucky." Then she walloped me with "He Thinks He'll Keep Her," and "I Take My Chances."

This album, though it is a compilation, is a good snapshot of her brilliant career. Her next album, Time*Sex*Love* may be a subsequent entry, but this was the first album of hers that I bought, so I wanted to devote some time to it first. All of her major early hits are here, and there are songs I never knew I'd love, like "Stones in the Road," which is actually the title track from one of her older albums.

Though I usually disdain live performances of songs because they just seem so gimmicky, these performances are heartfelt and endearing. "I Take My Chances" is more poignant in this live version, as are many of the other tracks.

I admire her so much as a songwriter and performer. Not many country stars can pull off ballads written by John Lennon and Mick Jagger, but she totally does. In my imagination, she grew up listening to The Beatles, Joni Mitchell, and the Stones, then figured out how to interpret that music in her own life, with her own themes. She's truly gifted, and she's very willing to share her musical gifts with you, the listener.

Do yourself a favor and listen to this album again. If you haven't heard it, or if you already have the songs on other CDs, get this album for the new versions of the older songs. It's transformative, entertaining and endearing. You'll feel lucky to be hearing her music all over again.


Video link on CMT for "He Thinks He'll Keep Her."

Mary Chapin Carpenter on Wikipedia

Album Link on iTunes

52 Weeks of Music

It's the first week of 2011 and my friend Katie inspired me to resolve for a blog per week.

The idea sprang to life in my mind late last night while watching Mary Tyler Moore on Hulu. MTM is Katie's favorite television program, and it's not hard to see why. It's wonderful. It's the originator of all modern sitcoms. But I digress. I only wanted to throw in my own plug about how great the show is. Go to Hulu and watch a couple of episodes and you will be hooked as I am.

So my idea was to talk about 52 albums that mean something to me. After being bombarded by all those e-mail surveys, then later facebook surveys, about my favorite things, I figured it would be better to go into some depth on blog posts. I won't be defending my choices, in fact, I welcome readers to comment. I just want to share what music holds a place in my heart and try to explain why. I am kicking it off with a post immediately after this one.

Here's to a great 2011 filled with good music. Happy New Year.

52 Weeks of Music - Week 1 - Wild Planet by the B-52s

The skies are charcoal gray. It's a dreary downtown day. But. At the end of my 30 foot leash. My little friend, Quiche.







Thus began one of my favorite songs by the B-52s, "Quiche Lorraine." It's a classic narrative about a boy and his dog, but with a super queer twist. Fred Schneider is singing about his beloved poodle, Quiche Lorraine. "Sunglasses and a bonnet, and designer jeans with appliques on 'em." My adolescent mind was blown. I was totally enthralled with this fictional bitch, just from the lyrical description.

The song is track 7 on the CD version I have of the album Wild Planet.

I always have great luck with the number 7 tracks of albums, but we'll leave numerology out of this for now. The song is the ultimate high camp showpiece of an album filled with vintage high camp showpieces.

In "Devil in my Car," Fred can't get the Devil out of his car because as Kate Pierson and Cindy Wilson sing in the background vocals "[The Devil's] got his cloven hoof on the clu--hutch."

In "Strobelight," Fred and the ladies extol the virtues of sex under a strobelight.

"Dirty Back Road" is all about, well let's just let your imagination flow.

All of these tracks were mind blowing to my exurban repressed homosexual adolescent ears. I loved dancing to them, or I'd just sit in my room and count the days until I would die. The B-52s made my existence much more tolerable, and I eventually realized that I too could make it out. Hell, I could carry a tune better than Fred Scheider. Though realistically I knew I probably would never be in a band, I was encouraged not to always do what was expected of me.

I finally stopped living in my own "Private Idaho," and now I love my life. Thanks in part to the sounds from a distant Wild Planet.

Click here for the iTunes link.  |  View Wikipedia.