Tuesday, May 24, 2016
"Blood on the Dance Floor: TM's Switchblade Edit," Michael Jackson
Ira has a toy with a rainbow-colored tail he's obsessed with. It's in a cabinet, duct-taped shut because he kept opening it, rifling through like a burglar. When he gets it, it's like he still wants it. That's how I am about dancing to this song.
How it starts! There's no way to stop
your rotting shadow come out to play,
sweat blossoming into the inky stains of your shame.
You choke on air as
listing in releve
on a stiletto heel.
Thank you to whomever put this video together! Click to hear song : )!
Saturday, April 30, 2016
Number one with a bullet on Pollyanna’s playlist—ladies and gentlemen, I give you the happiest song ever!
"The Loving," XTC
A friend of mine once said that all songs have balls—some are enormous, some are small, some are hardly there at all. This song boasts a veritable bunch of balloons, big and birthday-colored, filled to a breath below bursting and delivered to you by a troupe of Siamese kittens. In lederhosen!
Seriously, though, I’m blown away by that big, fat ujjayi-breathing guitar chord in the chorus that makes you feel all oceanic. Freud might’ve really dug it if he could get past the whole ball-sizing thing.
Sunday, April 17, 2016
“Salvation,” Elton John & Bernie Taupin
The latest installment in my little series—for my mom on her birthday. (It’s not the first time my card has arrived a day late. )
At the bottom of the hill I met a man with a cane, carrying a pack of Dunhill Blues.
“I’m going to quit,” he said, "when I get to the end of the street."
“Good luck,” I said.
“I’m going to quit today.”
I saw my mother fall at the bottom of the hill.
She couldn’t talk, eyes shut to light
She squeezed my hand when she got there:
A developing Polaroid of a shy ingenue,
a violet on her first day in the world.
I don’t think I’ve shared my own video here before—it was a limited release, and supposed to be as close to a minute as possible : )
Sunday, March 27, 2016
“Glam Slam,” Prince10 years ago or so I performed a solo completely of my own design to this song in a student bellydancing showcase. I was so naive that at the time I didn’t realize my teacher disliked me, even when all she said when I was done was that my hair was nice (super-high pony tail like Pebbles Flintstone).
If songs were flowers, this is what grows when you plant horny goat weed in the Garden of Eden. Comes up something whose name I’m not sure of, blooming and blushing in the moonset, dropping her petals like a stripper and shaking butterflies out of her efflorescent ass.
P.S. In that dorky musical genealogy tree that traces everyone back to the Beatles, this is the Spandex-wearing cousin of It’s All Too Much.
Here’s the video for Glam Slam--I don’t know how to embed this one, ping me if you do!
Saturday, March 19, 2016
“Jesus Children of America,” Stevie Wonder
I’ve listened to this a gajillion times, and I’m embarrassed to say I thought he was doing a call-and-response type thing with some back-up gospel singers. Turns out he did all the vocals and played all the instruments on this song, and most of the album it came from, himself. Genius stuff going on, and I hear something different every time.
At 18, I stole my grandmother’s crucifix, pink-purple stones blushing like sunrise, and wore it to a club I lied to get into and hitchhiked home from. Alas, a fool and her crucifix soon parted…if only I’d heard the delicate tingle-jangle when it fell from my neck.
This song is that loss,
the loss of a hundred mumbled Hail Marys,
the loss that I can’t ever go home and see my mom and dad…
and the mystery that a different iteration of them will always be there.
More in my lil' series here:
"Songs I Love in 88 Words or Less: All the Children Sing"
"Songs I Love in 88 Words or Less: "Rock And Roll"
Sunday, February 28, 2016
"All the Children Sing," Todd Rundgren
A muttering, stuttering woman in Riverside Park once called me a “grinning idiot” as I passed by, wearing a smile big as a dinner plate.
This one’s for you, Muttering Woman, and all grinning idiots out there—a song written by an overgrown baby in the key of Kitten. Clowns and puppies, you’ll like it, too!
The Greek philosopher Pythagoras believed a bell was the sound of a daimon—a tiny spirit-god inside going ding-dong. This ain’t the first Todd song with bells ringin' in heads. Coinky-dink?
A music video before there were music videos! Made, like the entire album, all by his own self!
Here are the other 4 posts in this series:
Monday, February 22, 2016
“Rock Around With Ollie Vee,” Buddy Holly
The third installment in my bimonthly series. Some songs are good to dance to, some songs you have to dance to. Buddy and the band are doing some serious gravity-busting here that gives me the same kind of dance-y cosmic jitters I've only ever gotten from a couple Michael Jackson songs. Weird, but for reals.
This ain’t no sock hop, bud. The punch is spiked, the pants are tight and your corsage is a black dahlia and bleeding hearts…
You dance—squirm, a thrust, gasp—until your palms are pomade-wet. Dreams thump and grind to a hiccuping guitar, caress curves of the stand-up bass. This is the realm of the half-man, half-boy, and I’m just along for the ride because sitting still for 2 minutes 18 seconds is impossible.
P.S. Ollie Vee’s twin baby sisters: future muses for "Teenage Head" and "Orgasm Addict."
Well, I sure hope you want to listen to it now! Here you go.
Also in the series:
"Rock And Roll"
"Over the River"