Sundays are conducive to relaxed habitual activities like alfresco brunches, bible study and bingo.
Anyway, the enjoyment that comes of listening to records on a lazy Sunday morning/afternoon is, for me, the very definition of creature comfort. This Sunday being the Autumnal Equinox I'm reluctantly ringing in fall with these selections:
Staying Alive - The Original Motion Picture Soundtrack
This year my dumb ass didn't really get around to reveling in the splendor of Summer until it was almost over. Somehow, like magic, listening to this soundtrack is making it all okay. On the one hand I am so completely bummed to see Summer go, but I've also always been such a ho for Autumn, this film and the music that completes it. For me, right now, it's the remedy to all my Summer woes. Especially the breakdown part of "(We Dace) So Close to the Fire" where it claws it's way into a sexy, fragmented downtempo beat set against a corny gasping vocal, repeating "dance... fire... BURN!" signaling Finola Hughes' slinking she-devil entrance in the dance piece within the film, Satan's Alley (see the vid below). Who knew Sylvester Stallone's brother Frank was so musically gifted? I mean, "Moody Girl" is a criminally overlooked smooth soul jammer in my opinion.
Below I honor those who share my enthusiasm for these films by sharing not original, but rather very lovingly recut, fan-made trailers for both Excalibur and Monty Python and the Holy Grail. [huzzah]
This year there seems to be more confusion than collusion when it comes to determining the borderline between Summer's end and Autumn's dawn. Recently, I made a break from San Francisco's foggy cold summer to spend some time basking in the high August sunshine on the Carolina coastline. It was with much distress that before I had even returned to California I couldn't help but clock the sudden emergence of all things Halloween on my Summer radar. Browsing the beer aisle had become an exercise in dodging pumpkin brews, hitting the local corner store for a sunblock re-up meant traipsing through a spooktacular displays replete with bulk candies, even a beloved backroad farmer's market had transformed itself, within the span of a week, from sunny Summer fruit central into a homespun Halloween headquarters. What [expletive] gives?
All this is leading up to the total relief I felt upon seeing the merry music video for "Kim Chee Taco Man" earlier this week, the first bit of music released from Kelley Stoltz's upcoming album Double Exposure (drops 9/24 on Third Man Records). The video, co-starring Grace Cooper of The Sandwitches, is enjoyably humorous and all but what really struck me is the breezy, endless summer vibe of the track mixed with the familiar voices, faces and places indicative of a fully made in San Francisco production. What's more, I feel that the timing of this little ray of light has restored my faith in the season. We may not enjoy much in the way of a visual display of change as the wheel of the year turns, but just like the Kim Chee Taco Man's disciples in the video, we relish, with gusto, those goodies bestowed to us from on high, whether they be gifted from gourmet gurus or simply the results atmospheric stability. In any case, from September to October, I've got to give it up for Summer in San Francisco!
Just when I thought I had naught to say regarding Mileygate...
Okay, okay, okay Miss Miley. Girl can twerk, or whatever, and I take no issue with her preferred style of dance, even if she does resemble pinched trash wagging an imaginary honey stick when she does it. I have to admit, however, it bums me out that her dehydrated toungue n' tourettes performance at the VMAs last Sunday seems to have made "twerk" a household word or, at least, a generally accepted generic term for
sexy ass-dancing, which, by the way, Cyrus wasn't really showcasing. Not on that night anyway. But, hey, that's fashion and my opinion matters little and weighs less when it comes to stomaching realities like this slice of Mileygate aftermath right here:
Really though, all this weak-ass sauce aside, I want to share, right here and now, some examples of real-ass twerking for anyone out there interested in gaining an understanding of why this manner of dancing could, should and has been elevated to a level of high art in expressive movement. Poppin', grinding, twerking, bounce, clap, stripper dance... check up on it and call it what you will, just don't promise chocolate milk if you're pouring watered-down Yoo-hoo. Here follows some of my favorite moments I've stumbled across in recent twerk-ish history:
The music video for Diplo' s "Express Yourself" (featuring Nicky Da B) has developed such a rich rash of "see Miley?" comments within the past week that it is worth over-looking the blurred lines (see what I did there) between twerking and the awesomeness that is Nola Bounce to include it here. Plus, as an added bonus, the vocal track practically acts as a literal how-to dance tutorial for those not overtaken by the sudden urge to, well, express themselves upon first listen.