So the other morning as I am sipping a latte, watching TV, reading Emails, listening to Bowie's Hunky Dory at the wrong speed and pitch -- - 8 on 45RPM -- and typing up an AMOEBLOG... multi-tasking, I guess you could say... who should stop by my mountainside cottage but my dear friend Zsa Zsa? She (as usual) makes herself way too comfortable at my place -- pouring herself a large glass of my fresh squeezed orange juice and munching on my very last fresh croissant as she reminded me that David Bowie was one of pop music's early cutNpaste, deconstruction, post-modern type, lyric sampling artists. "Huh. Say what?" I asked confused - stopping typing for a second. As she explained (and a little bit patronizingly in her know-it-all-music-fact way) how Bowie back in da day (the day being the early seventies) would reportedly just flip through books and magazines and literally cut out sentences randomly here and there, and literally paste them all together in any which order - and viola -he had "Panic In Detrot" "Queen Bitch" or "Life on Mars" etc
"Wow" I said - not about Bowie's lazy songwriting techniques but the bright shiny blue pageboy wig I just now noticed she was wearing. I quickly pointed out that M.I.A., who was just at Amoeba Music Berkeley last Saturday to a packed house, also wears a blue wig...just like that but that MIA has been wearing hers for longer - at least for as long ago as she took that single publicity shot that shows up in every story on her these days. .And, somewhat smugly I admit, I noted that so does that Aussie woman chef/baker in the East Bay (Bettie I think her name is) who does a great baked chicken, I hear, and who was featured in the front page of the Food Section of this past Wednesday's San Francisco Chronicle. But that the stylish baker woman's blue hair was not a wig at all but her own real hair - dyed blue of course. All of this I rattled out as I continued to type that day's AMOEBLOG with my back turned to Zsa Zsa. And when I finally swung around in my suede swivel chair expecting to see a look of some kind on her face I realized that I had been talking to myself (again) because she had already split...gone for who knows how long . But I noticed that she had left a magazine on the purple sofa in the hallway. It was one of mine that she had borrowed and on its cover had a picture of a former friend of Madonna's.
Now before you start second guessing that you clicked on the right blog, I’ll explain myself. While I’m known to ogle a pretty gal now and again, the reason for my purchase is for one woman in particular: Sandra Bernhard. There’s a small chance that you and I don’t have the exact same tastes in everything, right? Maybe you don’t think that “Love & Rockets” is one of the finest works of literature in the history of mankind; perhaps you’d disagree that beholding a Rothko in person can be an emotional experience. If you are under 25 and you are reading this, remember this; I think I’ve finally found an answer to the ol’ question “When did the attitudes of the freewheelin’ 60’s shift in the 70’s, and is there an exact date when it was nailed into the proverbial American forehead?” As it happens, you may not always realize what an important moment it is. It may be months or years later when you look back and reflect on that pivotal moment when you first heard some song that you are now obsessed with. I am a big fan of the hand claps. But only if they really work with the songs.
Yeah and when I turned 6 my parents moved to a new house out in the suburbs in a new development where there weren't any other kids around, so I made friends with the radio. Still, I would possibly prefer that to my even stronger dislike of five thousand-year-old tunes played on a fretless bass. Thursday night, after a sexy and glorious workday at Amoeba Music Hollywood, my boyfriend Corey picked me up and whisked me away to the premiere party for Outfest, held at the historic Orpheum Theatre in downtown LA. I had the honor of attending and, as I have mentioned before in this blog, I was brought to tears, and no, it had nothing to do with her blinding turquoise ice skating type dress.
*Full disclosure: All of the above are either made-up nothings written by me or words borrowed (in the tradition of Bowie) from Job O Brother, Gomez Comes Alive, Eric Brightwell, Whitmore, Jon Ginoli, Brad Schelden, and Mss Ess. God bless dem AMOEBLOGGERS!