Support Your Local Gay? Bar

There is a cliche that no one can go home again. I've come to realize that this applies to one's home away from home as well. Tonight I went to a drag show at Fort Wayne's premier (of two) gay bar, After Dark. Now through my early twenties, After Dark was a great place to go and mingle. A true center of the gay community in this town, and I still have friends who I met there, just hanging out. Now I never engaged in anything untoward in any back room or in the parking lot, but I liked going somewhere that I felt welcome.

Now I'm 35 and have been in a relationship for a very very long time. The Drag Shows on Thursday nights at After Dark just ain't what they used to be. I used to have to walk uphill both ways in the snow to get to a drag show, and it was worth it, but nowadays, it's just utterly terrible.

I think that in the intervening years, there has been a tectonic shift in the gay community. People no longer feel the oppression of the straight world like they used to. Gays are everywhere, at PTA meetings, country clubs, watching their kids play soccer, or just picking up the latest project materials at Lowe's and Home Depot.

I was with some friends who were in from out of town, and the idea was to see if and or how drag has changed. The short answer is yes, drag shows have changed and not for the better. Now Fort Wayne drag was never auspicious or highbrow, but it was never brutally tortuous as it was tonight.

The "revue" consisted of exactly two performers, one semi-decent and one terrible. My friends and I stayed for four numbers from each performer, but that was all we could take. I was prepared with singles to tip the performers, but I was not about to encourage such bad behavior.

My friends lamented that the last gay bar in their town closed. That got me thinking, what's the rest of the story?

The tragedy seems to be that the gay bar as a business model is built on the perpetually unsustainable social construct of self-segregation. As progress marches on, the clientele for a gay bar typically dries up. People are assimilating into their neighborhoods, having book clubs and wine tasting parties with their suburban neighbors, and trading recipes with the other parents on the sidelines of the soccer field.

So-called "singles" bars are built on the same principle, but there are always more and more people turning 21 and heading to mainstream bars and clubs as the older patrons typically pair up and quit going. And now with a more tolerant and accepting society, gay young people want to spend time in the limelight of the dancefloor at the popular club.

Younger gays seem like they don't want to risk getting cruised and hit on by the much older gay patrons still languishing in the faded glory of the old gay bar.

Part of it may also be the economy, but I think After Dark is taking care of the increasing liquor prices by watering down not just the vodka, but the tonic as well.

So what's to be done with gay bars? I must say that I don't have any answers, but I see some encouraging signs. Babylon, the sister club of After Dark is starting to shake off its image as mostly a gay bar and trying to attract a more mainstream crowd.

And really, isn't that what we've been fighting for over the past 40 some odd years? We want society to accept us, and that in all fairness must be a two-way street. We have to share our spaces with our straight friends, just as they have welcomed us into theirs.

So to the drag queens of After Dark, I say, do what makes you happy. You don't have to panhandle in high heels anymore. This is the twenty-first century. If your dream is to perform, head down to the civic theatre, take voice lessons, whatever. There will probably still be drag queens in twenty years, but there may not be any gay bars in which to sing.

You've got to find your voice, and that's really hard to do when you don't even know how to lip synch to other people's songs.

Not Quite 52 Weeks

Okay, I'll hold my hand up. I didn't quite make it 52 consecutive weeks of music. In my defense, I had a major illness, and it was quite difficult to get back in the habit of writing. I'm planning to resume posts, but probably not weekly.

On a side note, here's a very partial list of what I've been listening to a lot lately:

All Day, Girl Talk

Showroom of Compassion, Cake

The Stranger, Billy Joel

I Feel Cream, Peaches

Life'll Kill Ya, Warren Zevon

The Slider, T. Rex

Ben Folds Live, Ben Folds

The Unauthorized Biography of Reinhold Messner, Ben Folds

Poseidon and the Bitter Bug, Indigo Girls

Songs About the Golden Girls, Jonny McGovern

Ben Folds Five (eponymous)

Lots of Glee Cast songs from Season 2

I hope to be back to more frequent posts soon, but for now, listen and enjoy.

52 Weeks of Music - Bat Out of Hell by Meat Loaf

There are some albums that transcend time and space. Bat Out of Hell is one of those albums.

The album came out in 1977, the year after I was born. It is a heavy rock opera filled with love, sex, and heartache. The lyrics and the anthemic crescendos of the instruments bring the listener into the songwriter's world. You will experience spoken word poetry, and powerful guitar riffs, and Meat Loaf singing at all levels of his amazing range.

My favorite song is by far "Paradise by the Dashboard Light." It's all about teens and sex. In the cloistered world of my churchy upbringing, this was essentially audio erotica. Imagine hearing this at 12 or 13 and not being turned on. Of course, by the time I was hearing it, the album was some 10 or 12 years old, and the world had changed. Sex had become taboo, and this song celebrated it, to the point of flaunting.

This was one of the first CDs that I bought, and then at 16, the long awaited sequel came out, featuring "I Would Do Anything for Love (but I Won't Do That.)" Suddenly, everyone was into Meat Loaf all over again, but in the finicky world of 1990s radio, the long song was chopped up to fit into time slots and made into some horrible anemic version of its former self.

I think that's why I started going back to CDs only for my music. The radio was manipulative and sanitized, but the albums on CD in the dozens of plastic jewel cases strewn all over my back seat were uncut and vivid.

Of course, Bat Out of Hell is not without its detractors. Jim Steinman actually wrote the songs, and is barely ever given credit. Of course, he still gets the last laugh as he earns a good many royalties off Meat Loaf, and the anthems he wrote for other artists: "Making Love Out of Nothing at All" by Air Supply, "Total Eclipse of the Heart," by Bonnie Tyler, and "It's All Coming Back to Me Now," by Celine Dion, just to name a few.

If you've never heard Bat Out of Hell, I urge you to go out and get it.

Bat Out of Hell on Wikipedia

Album Link on iTunes

52 Weeks of Music - The Id by Macy Gray

And now for something completely different...

Macy Gray is someone I see as a very misunderstood and under-appreciated talent. I picked up a used copy of The Id on a lark at the record store a few years ago, a couple years after it was already out. I heard "Sexual Revolution" in a movie and this CD had it on it, so I bought it.

As fortune would have it, The Id turned out to be one of my all time favorite CDs. It's chock full of emotion, flirtation, betrayal, frivolity, and fantastic rhythm and blues.

You... tell me that you love me
If it's true, why am I running from ya
and Who are these bitches on my answering machine?
--from the song "Boo"

Absolutely fantastic.

I would characterize this album as a kind of R&B / Pop Fusion kind of sound. It's absolutely one of the most entertaining collections of songs that are out there. You should definitely pick it up.

The Id on Wikipedia

Album link on iTunes

52 Weeks of Music - Swamp Ophelia by the Indigo Girls

This has been a very long couple of weeks, so suffice it to say I am behind on the music project.

Since I have been in a foul mood, I decided to go back to the basics of my music. That is, the Indigo Girls. Swamp Ophelia was the first encounter I had with the Indigo Girls. A friend in college had this on cassette and I freaked out. It was so much more than the crappy pop music of autumn 1995, and much more compelling to me than anything I had ever heard before. It was right when I was coming out, so this album got me through lots.

My favorite track on this album is "Language or the Kiss." It was definitely my life, or rather, the quandary I was faced with at the time.

There was a table set for six and five were there.
I stood outside and kept my eyes upon that empty chair.

I was in a family of six and I feared most that my coming out would alienate me from my family, like in the song.

Over the years, the Indigo Girls poetry spoke to me in many other ways. I moved out on my own, then moved back home with my parents. Then finally at 24, I bought my own home and finally branched out for good, no longer the stunted sapling trapped in an suburban soil, but a thriving young tree. Forgive the purple prose, but it always makes me misty talking about the Indigo Girls.

The rest of the Swamp Ophelia is full of amazing songs about love, triumph, loss, mourning, and the strength of love and friendships. I am at a loss for words to describe it better. But I hope I've piqued your curiosity enough to check it out for yourself.

To give you some more inspiration, check out the "Power of Two" video from the Indigo Girls VEVO channel on YouTube. It's a great song.

Swamp Ophelia on Wikipedia


Album link on iTunes

52 Weeks of Music - Week 9 - Nina Simone

There's a bit of an advisory note on this week's post. I normally like to focus on one of an artist's albums, but this is a sticky wicket, as they say.

Nina Simone burst into my consciousness through the movie Point of No Return starring Bridgette Fonda. The desperate tones of the lead character are accompanied by equally desperate and poignant Nina Simone songs. As much as anything else, I always got the feeling that this movie wanted you to go out and by a Nina Simone record. So I did.

I found a compilation CD, so I bought it (the cover image of the disc I have appears above). This compilation was an actual CD, but when I put it into my iTunes years ago, it came up as the album "Bad Habits." I usually trust Gracenote or CDDB or whatever gives iTunes its data, but something was definitely off about this

I learned later on that Nina Simone had an incredibly difficult life. Born in the US, she was a gifted musician, forced into subserviance and denied educational opportunities because of her skin color. Just before the breakthroughs of the 1960s Civil Rights movement, Nina packed off for Europe and lived much of her life as an outspoken Expatriate. Really, if anyone blames her, they should have their heads examined.

Because of the legal battles over her albums, there are many issues and reissues. Still, I wanted to talk about her music as soon as possible, because it's still Black History Month, and I've sort of largely ignored any black artists so far, much to my detriment.

I view Nina as more of an aggressive protest singer. She was popular in the US during her lifetime (died in 2003), but she shunned the music business and chose to use her music to spread the message instead of becoming a superstar she was so obviously born to be.

Her romantic tunes are almost overshadowed by her brash and plaintive songs like "Mississippi Goddamn," but the tenderness in "Love Me or Leave Me," and "My Baby Just Cares for Me" give a glimpse of just how amazingly powerful and deep she really was. She could have become rich and powerful and popular, but she took the high road and changed the world.

Another note: The song "Young Gifted and Black" does not appear on my album, but it's too good not to talk about, so I am including it blow, along with a couple other songs that make me love her all the more.







Nina Simone on Wikipedia

Nina Simone artist link in iTunes

52 Weeks of Music - Electric Warrior by T. Rex

"I was dancing when I was twelve..."


Unlike previous artists, I came to T. Rex later in life. In fact, I was completely unfamiliar with them until just a few years ago when I saw the movies The Trip and Billy Elliot. Both featured T. Rex anthems from Electric Warrior.

"Bang a Gong (Get It On)" and "Cosmic Dancer" were the songs in the respective films. The more I learned about T. Rex, the more I was fascinated. I bought the album on iTunes only years later after seeing Breakfast on Pluto, which again prominently featured "Cosmic Dancer."

The album has other standouts like "Planet Queen," "Mambo Sun" and more. To me, Electric Warrior is one of my favorite albums to listen to. But I only was a fan of the music, and never got that much into the band or Marc Bolan

I only recently became aware of another album, The Slider just this weekend when I strolled into my local record store. (Yes, they do still exist, antiquarian though they may be.) The record store had a display of new vinyl. Apparently, 15 years ago when I started collecting records in earnest after high school, I didn't know I was starting a trend. Today new and reissued albums are coming out on vinyl and come with a free MP3 download link on the Internet. Technology is wonderful.

While the Slider is good, Electric Warrior is still tops in its ethereal feel and aural magnetism. Still, as I continue with this project, you may get a review of the Slider later on. Both are really good.

Sadly, Marc Bolan died shortly before his 30th birthday in a car crash (possibly the biggest disincentive to buy a Mini ever). Of course, with the tragic early death, he's often compared to Jim Morrison of the Doors. I adored the Doors, and still do, but the musical sounds are light years apart. The Doors are more spoken word poetry, while T. Rex is still much more commercial. But the glam/punk mix packs a wallop to the Doors primal energy.

The lesson I've learned from T. Rex and Electric Warrior is that there is a cornucopia of music that you may never have heard of. I recently caught flak on facebook for stating my dislike of Arcade Fire. But while I stand by that opinion, and I still haven't heard any of their songs I particularly care for, I am reminded by experience with T. Rex is that you shouldn't ever stop listening to music. That's kind of the point of this whole blog project. Keep your ears and mind open to new experiences and possibilities and you may discover some fantastic music you never knew existed.

Electric Warrior on Wikipedia

Album link on iTunes

52 Weeks of Music - Under Rug Swept, Alanis Morissette

The 1960s had a Canadian chanteuse who captivated a generation. Her name was Joni Mitchell. The 1990s had her successor, Alanis Morissette. Alanis had a meteoric rise with Jagged Little Pill. I had loved Jagged Little Pill because it helped me deal with a lot of emotional shit, being that it came out the year I graduated high school. The sophomore effort, Supposed Former Infatuation Junkie came out in 1998 after a couple of years of rebuilding and was a commercial and critical flop.

After a long musical drought, Alanis returned in 2002 with Under Rug Swept. The melodies on Under Rug Sweptseemed a bit derivative of Jagged Little Pill, but the lyrics seemed just as edgy and catchy. I loved the whole album immediately. I was again working through some major things, like just buying a house, what to do about school, and trying to find a boyfriend. I wasn't even sure I wanted to go through all the pain of a relationship, but then I heard "Flinch."

"Flinch" made me a lot more appreciative of my previous experiences. "Soon I'll grow up and I won't even flinch at your name..." To me, truer words had never been spoken. I was so short-sighted about love and emotion. I needed to hear those words to realize that there's plenty of time to get the hell over someone.

The rest of Under Rug Swept was rhapsodic. I started to like myself a lot more. Today I still love listening to these songs, probably as much as the Jagged Little Pill megahits.

Alanis probably did more for distressed young gay men than any therapist. I really adore her to this day. I've been sort of lukewarm on her other albums, but to me, the Jagged Little Pill ripped me up, but Under Rug Swept healed me.

Thanks Alanis.

Under Rug Swept on Wikipedia.

Album link on iTunes.

52 Weeks of Music - Week 6 - Easy Wonderful by Guster

I first encountered Guster in the late 90s when I returned to college after a brief hiatus in retail. Lost and Gone Forever was some of the most genius music I had heard in a long time. The 1990s were extremely wanting in terms of commercial music, but if you did a little digging, you could find bands like Guster, Barenaked Ladies, and Indigo Girls.

I do not have the least bit of hesitation grouping Guster in with the other two stellar Indie Rock talents. I actually wrote a glowing review of Guster's Lost and Gone Forever for a communications class in college, and I got an A.

Guster as a band has fairly common impetus, college friends making it big and all that, but their lyrics and musicianship are what keep me coming back for more. Guster was very big on the Internet. They became very astute at connecting with fans from the very earliest days of the online music gambit. They became a band that broke through the bland bandwitdh of pop with some indie-folk rock songs with heart.

I have to be honest, that I often am lost when I look for new music, but I actually found out that Guster had a new album through an ad on facebook. (Yes, I was Zuckerburged.) I clicked through and downloaded the free file "Bad Bad World," and completely dug it, so I splurged on the full ablum, Easy Wonderful on iTunes later that same day.

I could hardly stop listening to it after I bought it. It had been months since I had bought anything new, and this album was really good. Though the band doesn't really discuss the meaning behind its lyrics, I get the impression that some of these songs are a social critique. Consumerism, Politics, Religion. They all have some sort of thing to say about all of the big topics.

The album is actually playing as I write this, and I keep slapping my forehead, "Oh gosh, that's what they're talking about."

I highly recommend this album if you like to be intellectually stimulated by your music. And if not, the songs are still catchy and good on a superficial level.

Guster on Wikipedia


Easy Wonderful on iTunes

Video link for "Do You Love Me?"

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.

Disco Delerium

It's a hot August night and I have trash and recycling to take out; then I have dishes to wash. It strikes me that I am doing Night Work, a la the new eponymous title track from the latest Scissor Sisters opus.

I have since completed said night work, and I am humbly trying to articulate what exactly I am feeling when I listen to this music. With all that seems to be off-kilter with my life plan, the music seems to soothe me. I can happily dowse myself with Dawn and scrub sponge mopping up Rice a Roni from yesterday's blase effort at dinner as long as I have Del, Jake, BabyDaddy and Ana Matronic rolling around between my ears.

More realistically, my medication for my abhorrent sinus infection seems to be turning me into a daytime pariah, hating sleep in all its incarnations. I have consistently had a two a.m. bedtime for the past week or so. I think my mind is more expanded and stimulated at this witching hour.

It's at this point I become simultaneously introspective, retrospective, and prospective, all in the same synaptic second. That is why I sat down to see what lexical treasures I could elucidate from my heightened sense of self.

Of course, this is all a chemical delusion. I am in a delirious funk of tambourine and tango, and the fleeting feeling of joy is ever so much closer.

I guess that's all for now. My iPod battery is wearing down and I need to plug in. Cheers to chasing the dragon, even if in reality the dragon is a disco diva. It takes one to know one I guess. Ta-Tah.

There Is Beauty in the World

Original Image from Billboard.com

Macy Gray has a new album coming out. You can stream it live here (as of 6/16/2010).

As I right this, the earth is spewing oil due to the BP oil spill in the Gulf of Mexico. It's important in times like this to stay focused on what's important. There is beauty in the world. Now, I don't want to minimize the disaster inflicted by our own greed. I want to think of this as an opportunity to move on. The President said something or rather last night, but it's vastly important that we blame not only the oil companies, but ourselves.

We have a responsibility. We need to make sure there is still beauty in the world for the people who come after us. We do not have dominion over this realm. We have to be stewards of it for future generations.

Here Lies Love

Eat your heart out, Evita, there's a new crazy dictator's wife to lionize: Imelda Marcos.

Of course, I am talking about the concept-album, song cycle, whatver you call it, "Here Lies Love" by David Byrne and Fatboy Slim.

I heard one of the tracks, "Why Don't You Love Me" by Cyndi Lauper and Tori Amos, but I didn't care for it out of context. As the final track of the album, it brings it all together. Marcos was completely out of touch by the end of it all.

Of course, the whole album is itself out of context in a way. Byrne was recently interviewed on NPR and he said he specifically omitted the part about the shoes, the most notorious punchline to the fallen dictator story. I agree with Byrne though. The shoes anecdote minimize all of the great and terrible things that Imelda Marcos did. The album uses a disco milieu to bring life to the fascinating story of Imelda, who was herself a fan of discos, and all the decadence that went along with them.

There are eerie parallels to Imelda and Eva Peron, however, where Juan Peron survived Evita, making her a more tragic figure, Imelda lives on today. She's running for office in the Phillippenes, if you can believe that. This album kind of plays on the public's obsession with power and fame. It reminds us that there is often a very dark side to beauty.

Charlie's Angels Aware

I loved singing and performing. I always have. I took singing lessons, I was in children's choir at church, performed in school plays and talent shows; I loved being in front of people. I think in some ways I've been very much a drama queen, hell, I've even thought about being a drag queen, but that moment has thankfully passed.

When I was a very young child, I would take the wooden spoon out of the drawer in the kitchen and pretend it was my microphone. The fireplace hearth was my stage. My parents are particularly fond of a song I made up about wanting to get a kiss from a jungle woman. Though I don't remember it myself very well, I guess it's probably a factual account, but I'm just old enough that we didn't have a camcorder yet to verify such an event. I guess in retrospect it would have made a much better story if I actually sang "Fire" by Jimi Hendrix.

In kindergarten, I put together a band called the Hot Buns. I think this was actually a name of a band from an episode of the TV show "Gimmie a Break" so I don't really think I should have been credited for my originality. The punchline was later that year, my buns really were hot after a paddling. The Christian school I went to used a name on the board -> checkmark by name -> aggregation of checkmarks = paddling system of punishment. It was probably not a big deal. I talked a lot. I was very chatty along with my annoying precociousness.

When I grew up a little, my parents put me in Children's Choir at church. It was much better than listening to the pastor's 45 minute prayers or impossibly intellectual sermons, so I was okay with being there. Although I often wanted to stay home so I could watch reruns of Charlie's Angels.

I remember Pat, the lady in charge of the choir was very enthusiastic about teaching us music. But we never learned anything useful. She taught us the words using a gigantic poster sized easel with a mix of words and rebuses. It was all handwritten and must have taken weeks, but at the time, I despised the pictogram learning process, but it helped me learn with both sides of my brain, an incredible gift. For all the benefits of cross-brain learning, we were never taught how to read music. It was all learned by ear. Later I took piano lessons and learned music, but until I was 9 I didn't know middle c from my middle finger.

But the absolute best aspects of Children's Choir were putting on costumes and doing choreography. Once, our church did Angels Aware, a cornball musical about how God was going to come and save the earth. I will forever remember all of the Ten Commandments in order, as long as someone gives me enough time to sing them out in my head. With the sparkly gold Christmas garland halos, the dry ice cloud effects, and the choreography, I was quite literally in a form of prepubescent gay heaven. Too bad my brother and one of my sisters were also there.

It was around the time I was growing out of my family's K-Tel Dumb Ditties album and transitioning to popular music and 60s tunes my sister was into. I was also into Christian pop for a while, but I got over that when I turned 15 or 16.

As I grew up more and more, my taste in music evolved into what can only be described
as the quintessential gay boy trying to fit into the world around him. My favorite song until I was 15 was "Nothing's Gonna Stop Us Now" by Starship. It came on the radio once in fifth grade. I was typically staying in from recess and helping the teacher clean the chalkboards with another student named Gabe. I started to dance and lip sync and Gabe just started laughing. I was unapologetic about my enthusiasm. The teacher was out of the room, and I probably wasn't supposed to be listening to a secular radio station anyway, so I just didn't care. Now I've realized that what I really loved was that the sexes of the singing voices were so indeterminate. Grace Slick's voice to an eleven year old may as well have been that of another man. Can you imagine the enthralling power this had on my sexually confused brain?

In high school, I got bolder. I was an avid fan of the B-52s, the notoriously gay party band from the Athens, Georgia music underground that billed itself as the "World's Greatest Party Band." To me, they were. I bought every CD I could get my hands on. Almost every Taco Bell paycheck went to a B-52s CD in one of those clunky, anachronistic CD long boxes.

The B-52s made me lose my young queer mind. I would dance and groove and sing along anywhere I heard their music. At the time I was puzzled why more of their songs didn't make it on the radio, but going back through their albums today, I realize, that they aren't that great. Fred Schneider, the lead singer can't carry a tune. He's got a kind of gravelly voice that makes me think of Suzanne Pleshette or Bea Arthur. Plus, their music was kind of subversive. It was positively dripping with lots of sexual innuendo. They have a song titled "Dirty Back Road." Incidentally, I didn't put that together with gay sex until a few weeks ago when I saw the CD case in my rack. I like to think I was progressive, but I was more naive than even I had imagined.

Sometime when I was about 15, I saw the movie Heathers for the first of what would prove to be an innumerable number of times. The movie was vividly absurdist and surreal, but funny as all hell. At the end, Sly and the Family Stone covered Que Sera Sera, and did an amazing job. It became my all-time favorite song. To this day it retains that title, in spite of 17 years of music inundating me from all conceivable media. The song was so utterly perfect because it sounded like an utter mess. In the slick world of the late 80s and early 90s music, the blues, funk and rhythm fused in my brain to turn me into a musical adult.

About the time I discovered Sly and the Family Stone, I stopped listening to Christian pop. I loathed the concept of it, for one thing. Even now, perhaps especially now I don't think it is in any way beneficial to anyone to package the message of gospel in mass-market crap music.

I went away to college and started listening to college type music. I got into Ben Folds Five, the Indigo Girls, Cake, Guster and Jimmy Buffett, just about everything. I got into dance music a little bit also, being that I did start going to gay bars and getting my dance groove on for real.

Now I feel sometimes that I have lost that musical feeling. In a world dominated by personalized access to music, I feel that we need more people willing to go out there and perform music, rather than just consume it. I think I would like to learn how to play an instrument. I only ever learned how to play the snare drum. The piano didn't really stick for some reason. I think playing music, as well as singing and dancing connect us to something larger than ourselves. I think this larger art is something the world needs more of.

Maybe I can gather up the Kindergarten gang and reform the Hot Buns. The band name carries a lot more irony now than it did in 1983. I imagine that our first number one hit will be a cover of the B-52s classic "Dirty Back Road."

Some Kind of Creative Drought

To put it mildly, I have been neglectful of this blog, through a myriad of circumstances and distractions. I have been working on a few writing projects to keep me somewhat sane during the long harsh Hoosier winter. I have also been a perpetual bad mood, caused in part by my chronic sinus pain and sleepless nights.

Tonight, after I finished taking random facebook quizzes and reading a story or two on a blog or two, I just started grooving on my iTunes party shuffle mode.

Music usually puts me in a better mood, but I haven't even listened to music much lately. I've purchased four albums (two in stores, two online) since January, but I have hardly taken the time necessary to truly appreciate them. What follows are a few of my first impressions on my latest musical acquisitions.

Pink, Funhouse
I have been a fan of Pink for many years, and this latest album seems much more angry and introspective than any of her other work. I like the songs, but they deserve more attention and analysis than I have given them, so I can't say much more. I wouldn't know whether to recommend this or not, but the single, "So What" is a fun anthem for self acceptance.

Goldfrapp, Seventh Tree
I inflicted this on a couple of friends who like dance and electronica, but it's not at all a dance or electronica album in the traditional sense. The beats are somber and drift from cheery to melancholy. Overall, it's a beautiful collection, a virtual symphony of electonic music with lots of texture and understated beauty. I would recommend this and it's probably my favorite album of the set. It's also the one I've listened to most.

Adele, 19
This singer was recommended by a friend and I checked it out online, before she won the Grammy for best new artist. The music is soulful and solid. I'm also a sucker for great taste, especially when they cover good Bob Dylan songs. Adele covers "Make You Feel My Love," which has been recorded oodles of times, each time sounding progressively more pleasant than Dylan's original. Adele's was amazing and it was that 30-second sample alone that made me buy the disc at the store. The rest of the album does not disappoint at all.

Matt Alber, Hide Nothing
Of course, you all are thinking "Who?" and you aren't wrong. I found out about this singer on a blog post of all things. He has a great video for the song "The End of the World." I posted a link on facebook and added the YouTube video to my favorites and I bought the album. There are maybe one or two other songs on it that I like, but most of the time when a track of his comes up on the iPod or iTunes, I kind of regret the $12.99 download price.

So that's what I've been listening to. My advice for any readers is to just take a break every now and then and listen to the beauty of the sounds all around you.

By the way, the title of this post is a lyric from the Barenaked Ladies song "Brian Wilson."