Music Crush: The OTHER Gossip Girl

The Gossip rocks. In case you're afflicted with memory loss or severe hearing impairment, you know who I'm refering to. The Gossip has been one the it-bands for quite some months now. The trio, now turned quatuor, has been shaking the rock planet with irrestible disco-punk tunes. It's blunt and sweaty. It's uncensored and induces irrepressible jumping/shouting/complete loss of control.

Loss of control.

As any self-respecting Gossip aficionada, I attended last monday's gig in Paris (my 20th concert, or close). And it stroke me once again how much people tend to focus solely on the incredibly talented Beth Ditto. Granted, she is an uncompromising punk version of Aretha Franklin, so talented and magnetic it hurts. There is no questioning that. However, I would like to pay tribute to the OTHER Gossip Girl. The awesome drummer Hannah Blilie. Hannah seems like the quiet type, in spite of the hoarse and heavy beats emanating from her bright blue drum set. Hannah has an enigmatic smile stuck on her face when she effortlessly throws overwhelming rythms at our ears. Hannah as a charming smirk and a pierced lip . Hannah has A LOT of very sexy tattos on her arms and chest (I have not been able to document other body parts...). Hannah is very sweet and accessible (she patiently signed posters for hordes of hysterical fans, when she just wanted a quiet smoke at the back of the venue). Hannah is the coolness incarnate. Hannah is very cute, bordering on insanely hot, especially with short, none-blond hair..See for yourself :

Enigmatic smirk. Sexy tatts.
Sweet. Cool.

Insanely hot.

But back to the music. There are not enough female drummers around. Not enough gay ones (not every girl with drumsticks is gay. No). Not enough gay female TALENTED drummers. In my humble musical opinion (ear), Ms. Blilie is really worthy of more praise than she gets. Albeit wiping dry her armpits, face, chest mmmm droool *thud* Where was I ? Ah yes, so. Without breaking a sweat, the lovely Hannah delivers a clever mixture of disco, rock and pop beats that will, on their own, turn people into muppets on crack. I witnessed how a crowd, patiently waiting on a set change, went completely beserk over a drum soundcheck (Eurockéennes de Belfort, July 5th). She can be simple and efficient. Yet she will deliver chiseled, elaborate drumlines with her arms folded (see Heavy Kross or Are U that somebody !). She's awesome and The Gossip wouldn't sound half as great without her. There. I said it. Hannah ROCKS.

Last time I checked, Ms Hannah had a girlfriend (ok my info is a bit outdated - more or less a year old- but couples come and go, don't they?). Still. In case that changed, Hannah, call me...

[Thanks M.Robert Gil for the pics]

Mullet Proof

As part of my on-going training in "People are weird, for real 101" class, I've lately travelled to a few European cities for scientific purposes. I have been given the priceless opportunity to witness how, indeed, really really weird people are. Latest example to date: Madrid.

My scientific experimentation was conduced over a period of five days, with a neutral non-gay assistant. The main goal of that field trip was to assess how efficient gaydars were in an international context. And obviously, not to spoil the results of it all, my gaydar sucks in Spain ! To better understand the variables taken into consideration, here's a quick reminder of what usually triggers a normally shaped gaydar when looking -no, not drooling, fairly observing- a girl :

a. Clothing: the subject of lesbian clothing is so vast it is taught in a class of its own. Still, you can't go wrong with rainbow suspenders, AniDifranco/LeTigre/Heart and other Tegan & Sara shirts. The "I love girls" logo is a decent hint also.

b. Tattoes and body art: naked ladies on forearms, "Tinay Fey is my homegirl" inks, eyebrow barbells and 4 or 5 rings on each earlobe are usually good news.

c. Shoes: skateboard shoes, tevas, birkenstocks, motorcycle boots, men shoes and shabby sneakers will often be seen on lesbo-feet.

d. Attitude: there are several types of behavior that usually betray sapphicaly-inclined ladies. You will easily recognize the careless cool looking-very-Shane-today, the all-out femme with winks and smiles and obvious breast shaking at other girls, the nerd-geek-dork proudly sporting Buffy and L-word merchandising or the rubgy playing bull-dyke.

e. Girlfriend/Lady friends: kissing/groping/humping another girl and/or hanging out with a bunch of all-out dykes is a solid indication of gayness

f. Haircut: depending on the era, there are typical haircuts that gay women use to identify one another (the crew-cut, the Natalie-Portman bald head, the oily-died bangs and the mullet). Usually, "weird hairdo" pretty much equals gay, if validated by any of the above mentionned element.

During my time in Madrid, I fully appreciated the variations in the scope of lesbianittude. I was able to identify and confirm most of the above-mentionned assumptions, thus confirming my ability to spot gay women in international surroundings. However, there was a confusing piece of data that rendered my usually-trustworthy gaydar completely inane : The mullet. The ultimate capillary aberration.

I don't understand what it is with Spaniards and mullets. Guys wear 'em. Kids wear 'em. Granpas wear 'em. And girls do too... I am presumptuous enough to think that gay women usually have a decent sense of fashion (usually), but lovely Spanish girls proved me wrong. They obvioulsy have a peculiar fondness for dreadful haircuts. Really terrible ones. Shaved on the side, long and curly on the back. Or grease-monkey top over a shaved and died sides and back. Yeurk. Enough already. I still can't believe my eyes for the range of frightful mullets I've seen.

Scientifically flawed as I am, I tried to analyze the situation through hypothesis. I came up with the following:
1- I understand absolutely nothing that is remotely linked to fashion
2- Spanish girls have a genetic disease that induces uncontrollable mullet growth.
I believe these two hypothesis are so obviously accurate they need not be demonstrated. Girls, seriously, get over the damn mullet already! It's HIDIOUS ! The 80's were twenty years ago...Mullets are to be made fun of (see below, the Liz Feldman mullet)!

So ladies, for Slash' sake, grow some proper hair !

Music crush: My Brightest Diamond

I'm in love. Shara Worden is my hero - yes, I have many, shut it..

She is the best thing that has happened to my ears since Jeff Buckley and L7. Before she was a shiny precious stone, Shara played hipeetee hop and other various instruments with fellow UFO Sufjan Stevens. Now she's on her own. And she's dazzling. I have no words to describe what her music does to my guts.

My obsession with My Brightest Diamond started in 2006 with the debut "Bring me the work horse". Then priceless concerts, leaving me absolutely breathless and even more infatuated. Now the new album, "A thousand shark's teeth" has been out since June 17 and I can't resolve myself to listen to anything else. The fantabulous Shara mixes with great maestria indie rock, smashing voices and childhood lullabies. If it ever were to be summed up into words, here's what My Brightest Diamond would read:

A voice so beautiful it hurts, combined with raw, tender guitars. Magnificent layers of strings and horn sections straight out of a Ravel piece. Uninhibited percussions and various odd glass bottles drumming . Songs draped in extraordinary poetry. Listen in reverence and shiver. Yes, swoon, quiver, tremble and die. In extasy.

I'm a sucker for voices but this one has rendered me speechless and stunned. And that's saying something. Shara's voice is soft, subtle, warm, cosy yet powerful, extreme and lyrical. Goosebumps. Every. Single. Time.

My Brightest Diamond is a dream-like trip in the world of a musical genius. It's a rapture-inducing glimpse at Shara in wonderland. It's a parallel universe of fairies, dragonflies, horses, lightbeams and boxing bass players. I think I want to move there.

Did I mention Shara Worden is pretty?

And sassy, clever, witty and incredibly funny? (See for yourselves at the next live performance near you. Which you should not, under any circumstance, miss)

Do yourself a favor. Indulge in the ultimate musical gem. Go! Now! I bet my French accent you won't regret it.