Music Monday: Angel Haze

Have you picked out your Halloween costumes yet? Looks I expect to see at parties everywhere is lots of Miley Cyruses (white tank top, sledge hammer) and Macklemores (faux fur jacket, scooter). Their songs, and personalities, have been ubiquitous during the past year. So, they’re a natural zeitgeist-y outfit fix.

Now, I’ve publicly declared by love for both Macklemore’s “Same Love” and Miley’s “Wrecking Ball.” (The latter is harder to admit, still for all her tongue-out silliness that girl can really sing.) But I can always appreciate other artists’ takes on their work. In particular, I’m digging rapper Angel Haze’s covers of both songs.

The 22-year-old rapper is known for her raw and confessional work. She first made people sit up and take notice a year ago with her unabashed reworking of Eminem’s “Cleaning Out My Closet.” In it she discussed her sexual abuse at a young age. (You can hear the track here but be aware, Major Trigger Warning.) And if you think her attack on rape culture was a one-time thing, think again. Just last month she tore into the ridiculously offensive column by Washington Post’s resident troglodyte Richard Cohen who essentially said Miley’s twerking was the reason for the Steubenville rape. Yes, really, he did.

So you’ve gotta love Angel’s feminist feistiness. And you’ll only love more when you hear her powerful covers of “Wrecking Ball” and “Same Love.” The former allows you to enjoy a really good song without the mental image of a naked Miley literally riding a wrecking ball flashing through your head. And the latter allows you to enjoy a really good song without the nagging wish that an actual gay artist was performing the song. Angel labels herself, if she must, as pansexual.

So, please, enjoy. Happy Music Monday, all.

Something Compares 2 This

In the past two months I’ve thought more about Miley Cyrus than I ever thought I’d think about Miley Cyrus in my entire life. It’s not that I ever had anything against Miley Cyrus in the past, or for her either for that matter. It’s just that she wasn’t in either my age or interest bracket. But now, of course, she’s everywhere. And people are saying everything about her. And it makes me think. All this chatter and clucking about a young woman and how she presents herself. Haven’t we been here before? Haven’t we had this conversation before?

If it wasn’t Miley, it was Madonna. And then Britney. And let’s get back into our way back machines and say – oh, I don’t know – Cher? Sure the specifics may be a little different. One humps a stage in a wedding dress while singing about virginity and another French kisses a sledgehammer while singing about breakups. But the tenor of the conversation is the same. Look at this poor, misguided, crazy, ultimately “slutty” young woman. Tsk-tsk.

Now, I don’t condone tongue-kissing construction equipment or twerking against men dressed like Beetlejuice nearly twice your age. But I don’t find either all that scandalous, really. I thought Miley’s MTV VMA performance was a mess, because artistically it was a mess. Foam fingers and giant teddy bears aren’t exactly Tchaikovsky’s “Swan Lake.” And I thought her photoshoot with fashion’s resident pornographer Terry Richardson was predictably gross. Seriously, why do people keep posing for that dirty old man?

Then there was the “feud” with Sinead O’Connor, because you aren’t truly a notorious celebrity until you’re involved in a celebrity feud. I have always loved Sinead, and I liked a lot of what Sinead had to say about not allowing the industry to use your body to make itself rich. But I also disagreed with her assertion that women should only show their bodies in private. And it’s here where I started to think, really think, about Miley Cyrus. This question of what is proper and what isn’t proper for young women’s bodies is at the heart of all of this.

I believe women’s bodies should not be used as sexually objectified to sell everything from burgers to cars. But I also believe women have the right to use their bodies how they please. The key is choice, power and intent.

A woman shouldn’t have to take her clothes off to sell a record or a movie or herself. But if a woman wants to take her clothes off to express herself – well, go crazy, girl. What I find interesting is how a woman taking off her clothes can still get our tongues wagging. We’ve all seen it before. Hell, we’ve all probably seen pop star ass cheek in the last few minutes. If it isn’t Miley it’s Rihanna or Ke$ha or Lady Gaga.

How is any of this still scandalous? It’s more interesting at this point when people keep their clothes on, quite frankly. But I’m also not in the business of shaming those who take them off. I super, duper appreciate naked ladies. Because, duh, The Gay. Still it’s a balancing act made even harder by the inherent imbalance in representations of the female and male bodies. Men’s bodies simply aren’t used as currency as women’s are, nor are we nearly as accustomed to seeing them naked in popular culture. If they were these questions of choice and power and intent would be much clearer.

But back to Miley being Miley. If this, this chronic state of sticking ones tongue out and showing off ones labia majora, is really the expression of her inner self then I’m happy for her. We all grow up. Hannah Montana was just a fucking TV character. Get over it. But there’s always that creeping suspicion that this transparent drive to abandon her Disney days is fueled by our inescapable cultural obsession with the commodification of female sexuality. I suspect, in the end like so much in life, it’s a mix of both. And I suspect she doesn’t fully know which is which at this point.

What I do know is I like both “Wrecking Ball” and “Nothing Compares 2 U.” And, surprisingly, the now viral mashup of the two songs is strangely sublime. My enjoyment of these songs has nothing to do with what the women are or aren’t wearing in their videos. I simply like the music.

Tegan and Puppy (also Sara)

Corgis and pugs and Tegan and Sara, OH MY. I know this week has been video heavy. But, come on, it’s lesbian heartthrobs Tegan and Sara remaking their “Closer” video with DOGS. Yes, puppehs! Puppehs singing about lesbian sex. OK, now that seems a little weird. But it’s not. It’s just really, really cute.



See, cute! Dogs! Lesbians! Slo-mo pillow fights!

The group made the video with The Pet Collective, a site that – as far as I can tell – is entirely devoted to making adorable animal videos. So, you know, nice work if you can get it.

Yesterday the Canadian cuties (what, you know it’s true) also released their video for the somewhat less cute “Goodbye, Goodbye.” Basically that shows all of the ways you can break up with someone without breaking up with them face-to-face.



Yeah, good song. But the dogs sure are cuter.

Lorde of Music

So I’m totally over “Blurred Lines.” And now all I want to hear on the radio is “Royals.” Like, I scan the channels incessantly to hear it on my drive in to work. Because, damn, if that isn’t catchy. But it’s more than catchy, it’s smart and stylish and also sung by a 16-year-old girl from New Zealand. I know. I KNOW! Well, if you don’t know its singer, Lorde, here are a few fast facts (if you did know her before, feel free to be smug about it in the comments): 1) She’s 16, like for real. 2) She writes her own songs. 3) Her first full album, “Pure Heroine,” comes out Sept. 30. 4) She still attends high school in a suburb of Auckland, New Zealand. 5) SHE IS ONLY 16.

She may be a teen, but she’s not just a bopper. Right, please enjoy your next earworm.



p.s. Added the "Tennis Court" video because dayyyyum.

Girls Don't Deserve It

“Blurred Lines” is undeniably catchy. I do a little shimmy to it in the car every damn time it comes on. But “Blurred Lines” is also undeniably sexist. I’ve only watched the video in full once, because watching dudes in suits preen while nearly naked (or in the unedited video’s case, plain-old naked) women strut for their pleasure is too much for my little feminist heart to take no matter how catchy the damn song.

Granted, a lot of music and accompanying music videos are sexist. But there’s something about the sexism of the “Blurred Lines” video – especially the orgy of objectification in the unrated version where it’s literally just topless girls bouncing around while Robin Thicke and Pharrell Williams leer at them – that makes my skin crawl. Look, I love naked ladies – a lot. A LOT. But respect is at the heart of that sometimes blurry line between objectification and appreciation. And I don’t think a song where men brag about being “big enough to tear your ass in two” really respects the women it sings about. Even worse, it plays its casual sexism off as so, so cool – like objectification chic. Plus don’t get me started on all the douchey hashtags.

So over the weekend I was happy to hear about a great feminist parody response to “Blurred Lines.” About time some gals tweaked (not twerked, dear God, not twerked) the concept. And my, did they tweak. The video “Defined Lines” is by a group of University of Auckland law students - Olivia Lubbock, Zoe Ellwood and Adelaide Dunn. The parody was part of the Law Revue show, which included some 40 other comedic skits. Fantastic, no? Also, it’s good for us gals and our gay boy friends. So much beefcake in white briefs. Turnaround, fair play, all these things.

Of course, this being the man’s world the ladies sing about, the video was briefly banned from YouTube because it was deemed “inappropriate.” Never mind that both the PG-13 and R-rated versions of Thicke’s original video are up and have never been banned. Luckily, the parody video was restored and can now be viewed and enjoyed in full. I mean, how can you not love a song that includes the words “misogyny,” “chauvinistic,” “emasculate,” “vibrator,” and “castration?”

Of course, again, this isn’t the first time YouTube’s seemed blurry on the concept of a double-standard. Another gender-swapped parody of “Blurred Lines” posted back in July got slapped with an age inappropriate filter (which since has been removed, thankfully).

So now, when “Blurred Lines” comes on the radio, I’m still going to shimmy. But I just might change the lyrics. So we can fuck this man’s world, indeed.

For Good

Life gives us so few moments of pure serendipity. So when they happen, I think it’s important to stop and appreciate the universe’s happy accidents. Like when Kristin Chenoweth called up a random audience member while performing at the Hollywood Bowl last Friday to sing with her on “For Good.” And that audience member turned out to be a vocal instructor who could really, really sing. That’s what happened when Sarah Horn came on stage. I love when, given that once-in-a-lifetime chance at something extraordinary, we humans totally nail it. And I love how much everyone’s favorite pocket-sized human, Cheno, loved the moment, too. Good on you, Sarah.

Naked Lady Monday: VMA Edition

With each passing year I get more, “You kids get off my lawn!” about the MTV VMAs. So much noise, posturing and bright lights. And I know this year everyone wants to talk about Miley Cyrus and her tongue, teddy bears and twerking on some Footlocker employee who wandered onstage. (True Fact: If you say Beetlejuice three times Robin Thicke appears to have Miley grind on him.) While I, like everyone else, have the tendency to shake my head at Hannah Montana’s current shenanigans, I also don’t think there’s anything particularly new and/or scandalous about female pop stars going through a look-at-me-I’m-so-raunchy phase and/or career. Please see Madonna, Christina Aguilera, Rihanna et al. To quote the lady herself, “It’s our body we can do what we want to.” It’s not the end of the civilized world as we know it. Though, honey, those flesh-tone bikini bottoms are doing no one any favors.



But what I’d rather talk about is the fact that Lady Gaga sold her new single “Applause” to the Kia hamsters. What the what? Look, I understand everyone needs to make a buck. I have no problem with blatant commercialism. This is America and capitalism is our only one true religion. But if you’re going to shill for some dancing rodents, please don’t name your album “ARTPOP” and expect us to take it seriously. Though, in her defense, “Applause” is the best damn anthem for Tinkerbell that anyone has ever written.



Also, just to make sure my Gay Card gets renewed (I mean, even Obama acknowledged Gaga as our fearless leader), the Lady does have the most amazing ass. Sure, that seashell underwear was probably uncomfortable. But at least it gave us this. Now that is dedication to one’s art.

My Weekend Crush

The older I get – and believe me, I’m getting fucking older – the less informed I become by my anger. Finding coalition around anger is easy. It’s what built the multi-million dollar anger empires of Rush Limbaugh and Glenn Beck. Anger that flails around in a frenzy looking for a reason loves company. The certainty of rage can, oddly enough, be comforting. The Tea Party is political group built entirely around anger about taxes and guns and assorted other things they believe are their God-given right to get angry about.

I have found, in my almost seven and a half years writing for the series of tubes, that people get the most angry at me when I’m not angry at the same things they are. It’s an interesting and understandable phenomena. We come online, many of us, seeking solidarity and a megaphone for our voice. That’s why fandom is so powerful. The communal experience of loving a thing is transcendent. But the flip side is the shared experience of hating a thing, of shared anger and indignation. Folks responded more to the posts where I just railed at Ryan Murphy than the posts where I just loved on Brittana. That’s not a judgment, that’s just a fact.

If you are angry, I certainly understand that and would never deny you your anger. We have a lot of shit to be angry about. In fact sometimes all we feel is hate, so I understand the desire to lash out at anything associated with that kind of pain. Anger can be justified and anger can be righteous. Anger can spark a revolution. We need anger. But right now, for me, love – that undeniable source of all good in this too often cruel and random universe – is what I’d rather project. I know, I’m sounding all Rainshower Moonbeam Kale & Quinoa Salad here. But compassion is truly what moves the human heart. Anger moves our other muscles and our mouths.

I am also certainly not here to scold anyone. Scolding in itself implies self-righteous anger. I’m not angry with anyone here. I’m sad you feel mad at my lack of anger, mostly. I write to parse out ideas, express opinions, spread information and share Big Lesbian Feelings. You are welcome to take what you want and leave what you want. You are welcome to remain angry with me until the end of time. That’s entirely your prerogative.

But while we may not agree on every issue, I hope we can disagree respectfully. And I hope we can at least agree on the big issues. LGBT rights are immutable human rights. Women’s rights are immutable human rights. Minority rights are immutable human rights. Also, ladies are awesome and look amazing in tank tops. These are the things that matter.

Life is such a strange, strange journey and in the end if all we can say we’ve tried our best to be kind to those around us then I believe it was well worth every dip in the road.

In other life-is-fucking-weird news, here is Taylor Swift and Tegan & Sara singing “Closer.” I can’t quite get my head around it, nor can I comprehend T-Swizzle’s silver high-waisted hotpants. But then there are also 15,000 people jumping up and down with joy while singing about lesbian sex, so why the hell not. Let’s all get a little bit closer, shall we? Happy Weekend, all.

My Weekend Music

My apologies for the lack of post today. I’m preoccupied at the thought of finally, finally seeing her this weekend. Don't be too jealous, OK, kittens. I’ll keeping you in my heart in spirit the whole time.

p.s. That post I promised you on The Twitters is coming Monday Tuesday.

Quarterback Rock Star

Anyone here old enough to remember the movie “Quarterback Princess?” Helen Hunt, high school football and big-league sexism. Having not seen it in 30 years, I’m naturally rather fuzzy on the details. But from what I recall from watching it as a kid was it was pretty damn cool. Yes, yes – I know, they had to tack on the “princess” part. Yet 30 years later, the “quarterback” part is still pretty damn rare. But the good news is even though quarterback princesses continue to be the exception instead of the rule when it comes to people’s perfection of football, there are plenty more Tami Maida’s today who can’t wait to put on the pads and hit someone – hard.

Take, for example, Sami Grisafe. She is the quarterback of the world champion USA All-Star Team for the International Federation of American Football. That’s tackle football, people, women’s tackle football. Team USA beat Team Canada to take home the 2013 Women’s IFAF championships earlier this month. This is the second time the women have competed for the championship, the first time was in 2010 when Team USA won the inaugural event (it’s played every three years).

Before the game,QB Grisafe busted out the National Anthem. And before you roll your eyes, she was good – really good. It helps that she also sings professionally. And did I mention she’s an out lesbian lady? Great arm and a great voice and a great big gay? Better bring a helmet, ladies, there could be some pushing and shoving in line to buy her a drink.



p.s. For more on the USA All-Star Team, visit their documentary site The Tackle Girls.

Playing For Keeps

Just so happens two of my favorite songs right now have the verb “keep” in their title. Coincidence, sure. But both are by out gay women. Both deal with matters of the heart. And both are impossible to stop humming. So what the universe calls coincidence, I call a great reason to keep a smile on a Wednesday.

Brandi Carlile, “Keep Your Heart Young”

The video for this delightful ditty was shot on Brandi’s porch using her nephew and nieces as youthful stand-ins and is guaranteed to make you tap your toe. I plan to do just that when I see her for the first time in less than three weeks.

Mary Lambert, “She Keeps Me Warm”

The song based on her irresistible “Same Love” hook (which, admit it, is pretty much your favorite part anyway) is just as sweet as the original, possibly more. You can buy the single now via her site, or July 29 on iTunes.

p.s. According to press reports, Mary was first approached specifically to write the bridge for “Same Love,” which she did and then turned it into a full song of her own.

And on guitar, one cool cat

Hey, remember DeAnne Smith? That funny lesbian who made that funny video about lesbian relationships and hummus and kittens manifested out of love. Well, she’s gone and captured our collective lesbian zeitgeist again by combining a nerdy love song with a ukulele, bowtie, wordplay and kitten. Yes, kitten. So, so much kitten. I feel better about just about everything now. Also, please take your pants off immediately. Just seeing if that would work.

p.s. Sorry of those of you who were disappointed today’s post wasn’t about budgeting strategy to fix America’s infrastructure while carrying on multiple covert wars. Blame the kittens.

Not another silly love song

Nine months after I first heard this song, and I still get a catch in my throat when it comes on. Nine months after I first heard this song, and the world is a different, more equal place. Nine months after I first heard this song, and it’s finally a Top 20 hit. The slow-burn to wildfire of trajectory of “Same Love” by Macklemore & Ryan Lewis (featuring the lovely and out Mary Lambert) has mirrored the fight for marriage equality in the past decade. Starts slowly, gains momentum, achieves critical mass, and finally is a bona fide success. Clearly, the single’s timeline was radically condensed compared to marriage equality’s struggle (posted on YouTube on Oct. 2, 2012 and climbed to No. 16 on the Billboard Hot 100 July 3, 2013 versus first state legalizes it in 2004 and Supreme Court declares DOMA unconstitutional in 2013). And, of course, neither had yet made it all the way to their ultimate goal (that being to No. 1 and in all 50 states, respectively). But I sure have high hopes for both. No freedom till we’re equal, damn right, I support it.

Get in loser, we're going robbing

Mindless fun. Mindless fun. Mindless fun. Say it with me, it just feels good. I don’t know about you, but I’ve been replaying this song in my head since the very first ‘Bling Ring” teaser trailer was released, and each subsequent snippet of the film has only a) increased my desire to watch it and b) increased my desire to dance on tabletops while this song plays. The song in question is “Crown on the Ground” by Sleigh Bells. And that electrocrunky opening riff makes me want to do body shots in a sweaty club. Metaphorically though, because both body shots and sweaty clubs tend to be overrated in real life.

The newest “Bling Ring” trailer showcases both Hermione’s spot on SoCal accent and Dana Fairbanks as her lawyer. (Yes, yes – Emma Watson and Erin Daniels, in real life – I know.) And while the mindless fun of robbing from the rich is the initial appeal, something tells me this movie will manage to sneakily slip in some sharp commentary on our strange celebrity culture. Or, you know, whatever. Get in losers, we’re going robbing.

Our Q.U.E.E.N.

I apologize for taking so long to post today. My only excuse is that I was rocking the fuck out to the undefinable fabulosity of Janelle Monáe featuring the unfathomable fierceness of Erykah Badu. Every time Ms. Monáe puts on a suit and tie and opens her mouth I think, sit down Justin Timberlake, our Q.U.E.E.N. is speaking.

A-Pop

Oh, Anna Kendrick, is there nothing you can’t do? Hold your own with George Clooney. Rise above sparkly vampires. Turn the beat around with your red cups. Charm us with your Tweets. And now master K-pop. Look, I’ll confess to knowing very little about K-pop, except the small energetic snippets I’ve seen and heard. The video features real-life K-pop girl group f(x), which features a mix of South Korean, Chinese, Taiwanese and Asian-American members. What I particularly like about it is these young women and their “foreigness” aren’t the butt of the jokes. It’s Anna’s unfamiliarity and clumsiness that are being laughed at instead. Score one for non-stereotypical Asian representation. Also, who doesn’t love a good diarrhea joke?

p.s. Does short-haired, deep-voiced f(x) member Amber ping anyone else? Just checking.

My Weekend Crush

This week’s earlier confession of my love for late 80s pop brought with it an unexpected bout of collective nostalgia. For many of you reached out in solidarity, confessing your own similar totally tubular tastes. Fine, not for Debbie Gibson. But definitely for The Bangles. Gay women, it seems, love The Bangles. As well they should.

In the late 80s girls who loved girl bands had pretty much two choices: The Bangles or The Go-Gos. I was a Bangles kind of gal. Sure, I liked the Go-Gos. But I loved the Bangles. No judgment, I danced in my PJs to both in my bedroom. But it was The Bangles with Susanna Hoffs’ enormous eyes, Vicki Peterson’s enormous riffs, Debbi Peterson’s enormous beats and Michael Steele’s enormous bangs that spoke to me. They, quite simply, rocked my little world. And they never relied just on sex (though, of course, they were sexy) to sell records. Instead it was all killer hooks and catchy melodies and smart harmonies. I still love their powerful, driving version of “Hazy Shade of Winter” more than the original. And, yes, I still know every word of ‘Eternal Flame” by heart.

I couple of years ago I was lucky to enough to catch them live at the briefly rekindled Lilith Fair. They, of course, rocked. And I sang every song with them, as loud as my little lungs would let me. And it was like I was a girl again, jamming out in my bedroom playing air guitar and dreaming of being a rock and roll star. Happy weekend, all.

Shockingly devolution

I was never a huge Michelle Shocked fan. Back in the late 80s when she had arguably her most mainstream success, I was still busy listening to The Bangles and Debbie Gibson – please (like we all don’t have embarrassing pop skeletons in our close). But over the years the mention of Michelle’s name always mustered warm, folky feelings of a smiling short-haired lady who was most definitely on our side. But now it seems she really, really isn’t.News earlier this week that Michelle Shocked said something, well, shockingly anti-gay it felt like an added betrayal. To say gay marriage will cause the end of the world and utter that most base boilerplate for bigotry “God hates fags” to a stunned audience is just terrible enough. But from someone we thought was with us, it’s even more horrible.

The reason is simple. People are supposed to evolve, not devolve. Our human trajectory, as told by Darwin, is one of constant adaptation and improvement. And our beliefs have evolved along with our abilities. The long arc of history has bent toward justice. So when we see it bend backwards, it’s against everything we think we know about ourselves. Sure, some may stay suck in the past, unwilling to change. But once we’ve finally crawled out of the primordial ooze, why would we want to submerge ourselves in the muck again?

The only good news from this whole, sad situation is that so many others seem as appalled as we are by this turnaround. To go from a woman who in 1990 told the gay press she had female lovers to a woman today who has been born again and spouts homophobic hogwash is beyond jarring. It’s the same sadly ironic twist that gives us an anti-choice champion Jane Roe. But luckily, we have more and more examples of the normal progression of evolution everyday. Barack Obama, Hillary Clinton, Rob Portman and two even two Westboro Baptist “God Hates Fags” Church daughters have seen the light. And, today, more Americans than ever – 58 percent – support gay marriage. Less than decade years ago only 32 percent supported it.

Sure, we’ll still have a shock or two pop up, to remind us where we’ve been. But they will be the exception. And as they sink back into the slime, we’ll be on higher ground looking toward a brighter future.

EDIT: So Shocked has finally publicaly responded to her homophobic rant, claiming it's all some sort of colossal communications breakdown and God doesn't hate gays and neither does she. I think. She instead wants to offer mercy to those who believe in a God who hates instead of one who loves. Yeah, OK, whatever lady. What I do know is she sounds deeply conflicted about many things, probably including herself.

EDIT 2: Here is actual audio from the show, which is also confusing. And in desperate need of Spanish translation.

EDIT 3: Got the Spanish translation. It's the Bible verse John 3:16. "For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life." Well that doesn't help. Sigh.

Shaken, still stirred

For whatever reason – craziness of a shortened holiday week, fighting off a cold, late February doldrums, alignment of the moon – it has been a very trying week. So yesterday, I put Florence on repeat and shook it out for about 15 minutes. I found it quite cathartic. If you are having a similar kind of week, feel free to boost my self-help remedy. If not, save it for a rainy day.

Dance Emergency

Sometimes a gal just needs to dance it out. And today, today is that day. So whether you’re dancing on your own, or in a packed room, or like nobody is watching, the floor is yours.

Nicki Minaj, “Pound the Alarm”

Crazy? Yes. Crazy fun? Definitely.

M.I.A., “Bad Girls”

Also crazy. Also a good thing.

Ellie Goulding, “Anything Could Happen”

I wanted to hear this song once more before “Glee” ruined it forever.

Robyn, “Call Your Girlfriend”

Even SNL cast members need to dance it out sometimes. And if you don’t think Taran Killam’s choreography is spot-on, check it out for yourself.

Right, now, doesn’t that feel better? And, please, feel free to share your secret dance stash. A gal never knows when she’ll have another dance emergency.