Music Box: The 100 Greatest, Gayest Albums (of All Time)?

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The headline of Out Magazine’s recent list of the The 100 Greatest, Gayest Albums (of All Time) is a bit misleading. One can argue “Greatest”, for it’s opinion over fact, a selective, personal observance that molds the cornerstone in the life of the listener. For example, I might think “Indigo Girls” (#4) is pretentious high school poetry while you think “I Am A Bird Now” (#10) is pretentious art school prose.

But ‘Gayest’? Well, not so easily defined (#4 and #10 notwithstanding). But, the article itself negates its own headline, as it reads:

…we polled more than 100 actors, comedians, musicians, writers, critics, performance artists, label reps, and DJs, asking each to list the 10 albums that left the most indelible impressions on their lives.

Well, “gay indelibility” doesn’t automatically equate “gayness”. While the gay/straight ratio is almost 50/50 (nearly half the titles on the list are by artists that have defined themselves at one point or another as gay/bisexual) the headline should have read “The 100 Greatest Albums as Chosen By 100+ Gay People”. But, that wouldn’t cause much water-cooler talk, now would it? Most folks probably skipped the opening paragraphs of the article and started browsing the list, no doubt screaming, “How is [insert title here] GAY?!?” And I’m sure Out wouldn’t have wanted it any other way.

Impressive – or psychotic, depending on how you view it – is that I own 93 out of the 100 titles on the list (for those who care, I do not possess #s 22, 23, 45, 48, 56, 89 and 98).

Well, maybe not so “impressive” after all (I mean, I do own 5000+ CDs so chance would have it I would have owned many/most of these titles ), but yeah, a little “psychotic” (just exactly why do I own many CDs I don’ t like?).

I’m just thrilled that there isn’t a Mariah or Whitney in the whole damned bunch.

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(Text written by various Out music critics, not me)

1. David Bowie, The Rise and Fall of Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders From Mars, 1972
It’s ironic that an album with an opener forecasting Earth’s expiration and a closer tackling celebrity excess and self-destruction remains one of the most liberating, uplifting records of all time — about as ironic as a straight man topping this list. Robust, swaggering anthems “Ziggy Stardust” and “Suffragette City” prove this space odyssey is far from morbid or apocalyptic, yet it is on standouts like the languid, gender-flirting “Lady Stardust” and brash come-on “Moonage Daydream” — in which the singer asks for a raygun to be placed to his head with almost masochistic sexual glee — that Ziggy and his Spiders really shine. When in the grand finale, “Rock ‘n’ Roll Suicide,” Bowie wails “Oh no love! You’re not alone!” over a sea of theatrical strings, you know he was singing for every exiled, dejected, sexually confused young kid who longed for a world of greater possibilities.

“At a time when social and sexual taboos were just starting to break down, Bowie as Ziggy created a world where the possibilities were limitless. You could be whatever you wanted to be.” — Boy George

2. The Smiths, The Smiths, 1984
After glam rock faded in the mid ’70s, the gay sensibility so integral to British culture was redirected to its pop and dance music. But the Smiths proved the exception to that rule, particularly on the band’s 1984 debut, with a front cover featuring Warhol hunk Joe Dallesandro. As the chiming guitars of Johnny Marr suggest both despair and its transcendence, singer Morrissey articulates alienated longings that gain extra poignancy if one understands them as queer. “You can pin and mount me like a butterfly,” he croons on “Reel Around the Fountain.” Many have dreamed variations on that theme.

3. Tracy Chapman, Tracy Chapman, 1988
Announcing the arrival of an acoustic singer-songwriter defined by quiet alto anguish and lyrics that speak of social injustices from an insider’s viewpoint, Tracy Chapman’s 1988 debut is a revolution that sounds like a whisper. An eerily memorable chronicle of frustrated dreams, “Fast Car” still seems to slow life down every time it’s played, but the album’s plainspoken love songs — particularly “Baby Can I Hold You” — remain just as eloquent.

4. Indigo Girls, Indigo Girls, 1989

5. Judy Garland, Judy at Carnegie Hall, 1961
“She is a legend for a reason. That performance, at that time, by that woman was clearly once in a lifetime. When I first heard it, I wasn’t sure who needed whom more. Was it the gay men in the audience needing her, or was it her needing them?” — Wilson Cruz, actor

6. The Smiths, The Queen is Dead, 1986

7. Elton John, Goodbye Yellow Brick Road, 1973

8. Madonna, The Immaculate Collection, 1990

9. Cyndi Lauper, She’s So Unusual, 1983

10. Antony and the Johnsons, I Am A Bird Now, 2005
With unflinching passion, a desperate desire for human connection, and a tremulous voice redolent of Nina Simone, cherubic Antony Hegarty — with help from Lou Reed, Rufus Wainwright, and Boy George — delivered a sparse set of some of the saddest, rawest songs ever recorded. In I Am a Bird Now’s 10 tracks, the singer meditates on the lonesome “middle place” between life and nothingness (“Hope There’s Someone”); gender mutability (“For Today I Am a Boy”); sadomasochism (“Fistful of Love”); and, on the album’s breathtaking climax, “Bird Gerhl,” the sublime freedom of flying alone.

11. Various artists, Hedwig and the Angry Inch soundtrack, 2001

12. The Velvet Underground & Nico, The Velvet Underground & Nico, 1967

13. Ani DiFranco, Dilate, 1996
“The record took me two years to digest; it overwhelmed me. Ani put words to experiences from my generation with poise and generosity I had never and still haven’t heard.” — Melissa Ferrick, folk musician

14. Erasure, The Innocents, 1988

15. George Michael, Faith, 1987

16. Queen, A Night at the Opera, 1975

17. Lou Reed, Transformer, 1972
“The gender-bending ‘Walk on the Wild Side’ is (as far as we know) the only song about transsexuals, male prostitution, and blowjobs to hit the Top 40. Bonus points for the leather hunk with a giant hard-on on the back cover.” — queer psych-prog band Mirror Mirror

18. George Michael, Listen Without Prejudice, Vol. I, 1990
The 6 1/2-minute “Freedom ’90” was not only the first great pop song of that decade, it was George Michael’s condensed autobiography — the true story of a boy who had painted himself into a corner but was dying to come out. So he recast himself with lip-syncing supermodels, stopped touring, and began to quietly make good on his promise to “take these lies and make them true somehow.” There are other excellent songs on Listen Without Prejudice (most notably the viciously political “Praying for Time”), but it is the gospel choir-worthy “Freedom” that will remain a queer anthem.

19. The B-52s, The B-52’s, 1979
“I remember auditioning for the character of Duckie in Pretty in Pink and bringing in ‘Planet Claire’ to dance to in front of the director. I still hate Jon Cryer.” — John Cameron Mitchell

20. Queen, A Day at the Races, 1976

21. David Bowie, Hunky Dory, 1971

22. The Gossip, Standing in the Way of Control, 2006

23. Deee-Lite, World Clique, 1990

24. Sylvester, Living Proof, 1979

25. k.d. lang, Ingénue, 1992
With its silky textures and subtle, slinky rhythms, 1992’s Ingénue shifted k.d. lang’s musical focus from the prairie to a cabaret of her own design. “Miss Chatelaine,” her dreamy Lawrence Welk tribute (as its video bears out), birthed a butch-goes-femme lesbian variation on camp that narrowed the aesthetic divide between lang’s sapphic sisters and her gay brothers, while “Constant Craving” wooed adult pop radio and scored lang her well-deserved third Grammy, transforming this Canadian country crooner into an unconventional mainstream icon. In live performance lang remained a wild thing, but on her fifth and most popular album, she’s deliciously smooth — nearly regal with poise.

26. Scissor Sisters, Scissor Sisters, 2004

27. Eurythmics, Sweet Dreams (Are Made of This), 1983
Annie Lennox and Dave Stewart’s romantic partnership had ceased by the time of its release, but that troubled relationship is at the core of Sweet Dreams. On the title track the yin/yang of Stewart’s driving synths with Lennox’s ethereal vocals is as electrifying today as it was 25 years ago, but while the single scored their first (and only) U.S. number 1, it’s the spectral “Love Is a Stranger” and “This City Never Sleeps” that evoke the mood of foreboding and loneliness that came to dominate Lennox’s solo career.

28. Queen, The Game, 1980

29. Pet Shop Boys, Actually, 1987

30. Diana Ross, Diana, 1980

31. Sarah McLachlan, Fumbling Towards Ecstacy, 1993
“Lesbians all across the world have had sex to this record. A lot of sex.” — Jen Foster, folk musician

32. The Smiths, Meat Is Murder, 1985

33. The Smiths, Hatful of Hollow, 1984

34. Donna Summer, Bad Girls, 1979

35. Yaz, Upstairs at Eric’s, 1982
When this synth-pop duo first appeared, many thought its singer was a black gay man. In fact, Yaz (or Yazoo, outside the United States) was deep-voiced English chanteuse Alison Moyet and fellow Brit Vince Clarke (formerly of Depeche Mode). Together they merged hot soul and icy arpeggios not only for “Situation,” one of the first new wave crossovers from gay clubs, but also for the album’s equally explosive ballads. After one more album Moyet went solo, while Clarke created another pioneering synth-pop duo: Erasure.

36. Madonna, Erotica, 1992
“Madonna was fully exploring her sexuality with the simultaneous release of Erotica and the Sex book, and as a budding young queer teen, I had never heard a mainstream artist tell me it was OK to love who I love and have sex with who I want.” — Ari Gold, pop singer

37. Blondie, Parallel Lines, 1978

38. Dusty Springfield, Dusty in Memphis, 1969
Despite its many songwriters, this exquisitely sequenced album by British songbird Dusty Springfield presents a unified statement on the tumultuous nature of love. It didn’t sell spectacularly, even while yielding the instant classic “Son of a Preacher Man,” but it has long been considered a pinnacle of white soul. When Springfield follows the philosophic “No Easy Way Down” with the pleading “I Can’t Make It Alone,” the effect is softly devastating. A year later she spoke openly of her same-sex attractions.

39. Laura Nyro and Labelle, Gonna Take A Miracle, 1971
“Nyro brought in Patti LaBelle, Nona Hendryx, and Sarah Dash (well before ‘Lady Marmalade’), and the four voices are staggering, heartbreaking, and roof-shaking. It’s simple music that was never written to be this complex, but these girls looked at it from another angle, which is the hallmark of the gay approach to life — and which so often results in great art.” — Bruce Vilanch, comedian

40. Pet Shop Boys, Behavior, 1990

41. Melissa Etheridge, Yes I Am, 1993

42. ABBA, Gold, 1992

43. Prince, Purple Rain, 1984

44. Pet Shop Boys, Very, 1993
The foppish synth-pop duo’s coming-out album, released at such a politically charged era in queer history, unspools like an unabashed crash course in gay. Self-deception (“Can You Forgive Her?”), the AIDS crisis (“Dreaming of the Queen”), and feigned barroom indifference (“To Speak Is a Sin”) all show up to the party, before Neil Tennant’s tenor throws open the doors and summons us to a campy utopia in the bittersweet Village People remake “Go West.”

45. Bikini Kill, Pussy Whipped, 1993

46. Madonna, Ray of Light, 1998

47. The Magnetic Fields, 69 Love Songs, 1999

48. Cris Williamson, The Changer and the Changed, 1975

49. Patti Smith, Horses, 1975

50. Rufus Wainwright, Poses, 2001

51. Frankie Goes to Hollywood, Welcome to the Pleasuredome, 1984

52. Kate Bush, Hounds of Love, 1985
“What I love about this album is essentially what I love about being gay. It’s eccentric, wildly imaginative, and has a completely naive view of the world in which it exists. In Kate Bush’s conceptual world the clouds make magical shapes in the sky, God can change the place of a man and a woman, and innocence is lost only to give way to the beauty of romance. I paint the memory of my coming out in similarly vibrant and violent colors.” — Darren Hayes, pop singer, formerly of Savage Garden

53. Culture Club, Colour by Numbers, 1983

54. Tori Amos, Little Earthquakes, 1992
“A song has the ability to convey so many emotions, and that’s exactly what this exquisite album does. It takes you on a very powerful journey.” — Perez Hilton, blogger

55. David Bowie, Diamond Dogs, 1974

56. Team Dresch, Personal Best, 1994

57. Prince, Dirty Mind, 1980

58. Liz Phair, Exile in Guyville, 1993

59. Bronski Beat, The Age of Consent, 1984
“It was the first overtly political queer album. It saved lives and broke hearts.” — Kiki and Herb’s Justin Bond

60. R.E.M., Automatic for the People, 1992

61. Sleater-Kinney, Dig Me Out, 1997

62. Jeff Buckley, Grace, 1994
“My first boyfriend lived in New York City when we met, and he insisted I buy this cassette. Jeff’s angelic voice and soul-wrenching lyrics touched my heart immediately. During my first trip to New York to visit said boyfriend, he and I got into a huge fight. While I was wandering alone around the East Village, I ran into Jeff outside a music venue. I told him I loved his music. He told me he loved my shirt. I immediately tracked down the boyfriend for make-up sex.” — Darryl Stephens, Noah’s Arc

63. Björk, Debut, 1993

64. Patti Smith, Easter, 1978

65. Le Tigre, Le Tigre, 1999
“It was the soundtrack to the queer cultural landscape of the late ’90s. It inspired countless girls to pick up instruments and give a shit about what was going on. It was riot grrrl with a bit more technology and dance appeal.” — Scream Club

66. Soft Cell, Non-Stop Erotic Cabaret, 1981
Of all the new wave albums to have conquered the charts, Soft Cell’s debut is the most deliciously sleazy: It sounds as though it was recorded in a Times Square peep-show booth. Known primarily for the album’s massive synth-pop reworking of Gloria Jones’s cult soul classic “Tainted Love,” the British duo of queer singer Marc Almond and keyboardist Dave Ball also documents the last gay gasp of pre-AIDS abandon in tracks like “Seedy Films” and “Sex Dwarf” as well as the sobering mornings after in “Bedsitter.” Almond misses notes but, more important, nails the tenderness at the heart of the hedonism.

67. Hüsker Dü, Candy Apple Grey, 1986

68. Nirvana, Nevermind, 1991

69. Frances Faye, Caught in the Act, 1959
Perhaps the most unjustly forgotten nightclub singer in queer history, Frances Faye was a brassy bisexual broad whose act was equal parts cabaret and comedy, a mischievous love child of Mae West and Cole Porter. Caught in the Act — a live recording from 1958 featuring her wild versions of “Night and Day” and “The Man I Love” — is rare, undeniable evidence that her fans, including Rock Hudson, Barbara Stanwyck, and even Paul McCartney, were in on all the dirty jokes. In “Frances and Her Friends” anything goes: “I know a guy named Willie / Willie goes with Tilly / Tilly goes with Millie / What a ball!” And the crowd goes wild.

70. Rent original Broadway cast, Rent, 1996

71. Elton John, Captain Fantastic and the Brown Dirt Cowboy, 1975

72. Donna Summer, Once Upon a Time, 1977

73. various artists, Fame soundtrack, 1980

74. Michael Jackson, Off the Wall, 1979

75. Carole King, Tapestry, 1971

76. Ani DiFranco, Imperfectly, 1992

77. New Order, Substance, 1987

78. various artists, The Rocky Horror Picture Show soundtrack, 1975
“I was a regular Rocky midnight attendee by the time I was 11 (courtesy of my best friend’s hippie Mom). Now I’m a singin’ dancin’ tranny with a penchant for tranny girls in fishnets. You do the math.” — Sean Dorsey (trans choreographer, dancer, and Artistic Director Fresh Meat Productions) and Shawna Virago (trans rock star, activist, Director Tranny Fest)

79. T. Rex, Electric Warrior, 1971

80. Rufus Wainwright, Want One, 2003

81. Scissor Sisters, Ta-Dah, 2006

82. Cher, Believe, 1998

83. Bette Midler, The Divine Miss M, 1972

84. Cyndi Lauper, True Colors, 1986

85. Nina Simone, Anthology, 2003

86. Madonna, Madonna, 1983
“I was in love with her. I never wanted to be her but I definitely wanted to hold hands. I still have my Like A Virgin tour t-shirt. I can tell you what I wore to the concert but that might be really saying too much. One word… AWKWARD!” — Melissa York, drummer for the Butchies and Team Dresch

87. Madonna , Confessions on a Dance Floor, 2005

88. Hüsker Dü, Zen Arcade, 1984

89. Fifth Column, To Sir With Hate, 1986

90. Kate Bush, The Kick Inside, 1978
“This is frilly and gorgeous and even new agey but for some reason also ‘hip’ so i was able to drench myself in it without worrying about getting beaten up.” — Nils Berstein, Matador Records

91. Grace Jones, Nightclubbing, 1981

92. Morrissey, Viva Hate, 1988

93. Sade, Lovers Rock, 2000

94. Hair original Broadway cast, Hair, 1968

95. Culture Club, Kissing to Be Clever, 1982

96. Nick Drake, Bryter Layter, 1970

97. Janis Ian, Between the Lines, 1975

98. Ferron, Testimony, 1980

99. Joni Mitchell, For the Roses, 1972
“An album to play alone in your bedroom when the phone doesn’t ring after your virginity is gone.” — Tom Kalin, director Savage Grace

100. The Beatles, Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band, 1967
“I couldn’t help being influenced by this truly trailblazing album by the ultimate pop group who was managed by a gay man, Brian Epstein. The world would have missed this cultural watershed without his influence.” — Holly Johnson, Frankie Goes to Hollywood

Music Box: Me + Bill Levy x Morrissey ÷ Carnegie Hall = Love

This Charming Man, Morrissey, At Carnegie Hall 3.26.09
This Charming Man, Morrissey, At Carnegie Hall 3.26.09

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Ya miss me? I know, for a moment there I forgot I had another blog on the web to vent my nothingness. My apologies to my readers – I’ve been working madly these past few months, while writing my American Idol Report Card twice a week. But, I haven’t “forgotten” this baby…just let it nap for a little while.

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Bill Levy, one of my favorite straights, so to speak, and I went to see Morrissey at Carnegie Hall yesterday evening (one of the perks from working where I do is that I can see most shows that I wish. My wonderful contact – thanx, Retta! – at Lost Highway was kind enough to grant my request for tickets). Bill is a Morrissey uber-fan, who purchases tickets to every area show that’s scheduled and is a true connoisseur of his (Morrissey’s) art. This was Bill’s third Morrissey show of the week.

The last time I saw Morrissey in concert was early in his solo career. I was supervisor at the long-lost lamented Tower Records in the Village when he played Madison Square Garden’s Paramount Theater back in 1992 or 1993 (those years are a blur, so forgive my poor memory).

I’ve long heralded Morrissey as a mopey genius (not an original moniker, I know) – and as a Smiths-loving youth, I salivated at his early solo work. So, that chance to see him in concert was a thrill I wasn’t going to miss out on, knowing I’d probably never see the Smiths live. The Paramount was electric, with the 5000+ fanatics singing along, and dancing in the aisles…but this was a time in his career when there was little-to-nil bantering between songs, and was also that space in his solo years where he refused to perform any Smiths selections. Not that “Morrissey” fans minded – his first few solo outputs still dripped in the same sardonic vein.

I will admit that in recent years, my hunger for Morrissey has dwindled ever so slightly, and there’s no discernible reason, really. Somewhere between the radiant “Your Arsenal” and the meandering “Vauxhall And I” the innate thrill of an imminent new Morrissey CD wasn’t there anymore. I still loved the man – his art, his self-loathing, his wit, and his mighty pen – but I just stopped caring.

Also, as I get on in years, my once-driven ecstasy of going to concerts has dissipated to almost zilch. I rarely make the effort to enjoy watching a concert, even if it’s free (in the past 2 years I could count possibly ten shows I went to – once upon a time, that would be a per month figure) and if I could explain to you why, I would. It could be any number of factors, from my easy annoyance of rowdy crowds, to the sickly-sweet stench of marijuana in the air (the aroma literally makes me physically ill) to the more-often-than-not buffoons who always seem to purchase seats exactly in front of mine. At the risk of sounding like an old, jaded man, I actually prefer to go home and watching TV.

But, there Bill and I sat, 13th row orchestra, and an anticipation came over me that I haven’t felt in years. Could have been the company (I love Bill, and his girlfriend Tal, who actually took the ticket he purchased before I was able to get the gratis ones, is a delight), or the exuberant audience, or possibly the thrill of being in Carnegie Hall’s Stern auditorium, a beautiful theater the greats have all played. Whatever the reason(s), I felt I was about to have a great time. And I did.

Much of the set list was foreign to me, as it focused on his later solo CDs, and I have to admit I feel foolish for missing out on some of his most striking lyrics, e.g. “Black Cloud” and “Mama Lay Softly On The Riverbed”. But as someone who’s waited 25 years to hear any Smiths songs live, my ardor accelerated when the set opened with “This Charming Man” and later “How Soon Is Now”, perhaps Morrissey and (Smiths guitarist) Johnny Marr’s most famous masterpiece, and “Death Of A Disco Dancer”.

Most startling is how his voice, still muscular and rarely wavering, hold up – that deep nasal tone still packs a punch on his most pungent lyrics. His band – guitarist and Musical Director Boz Boorer, guitarist Jesse Tobias, drummer Matt Walker, bassist Solomon Walker, and keyboardist Kristopher Pooley – all sinewy and sexy and passionate, only exemplified the fervent pitch with their craftsmanship. The band kicks major ass.

And what better way to end a most memorable night but to stand outside Carnegie Hall, standing in the rain, and contemplating a most charming evening. Morrissey would have loved that. Probably.

Carnegie Hall Set List

This Charming Man
Black Cloud
When Last I Spoke To Carol
How Soon Is Now?
Irish Blood, English Heart
Let Me Kiss You
I’m Throwing My Arms Around Paris
How Can Anybody Possibly Know How I Feel?
Seasick, Yet Still Docked
The Loop
I Keep Mine Hidden
The World Is Full Of Crashing Bores
Ask
Best Friend On The Payroll
Mama Lay Softly On The Riverbed
One Day Goodbye Will Be Farewell
Death Of A Disco Dancer
Sorry Doesn’t Help
Something Is Squeezing My Skull
I’m OK By Myself

encore: First Of The Gang To Die

Happy Birthday Uncle Abe, Darwinism and the Devolution of Me

(See below to ‘devolve’ yourself!)

Yep, Abe Lincoln was/is my great, great, great gay/bisexual uncle, via marriage.  Don’t laugh.  While I never researched the truth in that – the ‘uncle’ aspect, not the ‘gay’ facet – I figured why would my mother lie for all those years ago about my heritage?  I know, I know…with the internet in its second decade, you’d surmise that I would at least attempt to uncover the lineage.  But, supposedly, her great grandmother’s sister was Mary Todd Lincoln.

As for the gay speculation, there’s more than enough evidence to suggest that Abe’s obsession with the theater had less to do than merely it being that era’s main source of entertainment.  You can read about it HERE or HERE.

But that’s neither here nor there.  Today marks Abe’s 200th birthday, so Happy Birthday, Uncle Abe.

And, it is also the 200th birthday of Charles Darwin:

Sharing that bicentennial birthday milestone comes with some depressing news for Chuck – appallingly, only 39% OF AMERICANS BELIEVE IN EVOLUTION!  THIRTY-NINE PERCENT!

Here how it breaks down:

So, 25% of Americans are total brain-atrophying idiots and 36% are brain-sterile cuckoos.  At least the 1% stayed true to themselves and didn’t respond.  It boggles te darkest caverns of the mind that in 2009, there are THAT many people who still we dreived from Adam and his rib-made companion, Eve. Oy.

Anyway…in the true spirit of Darwinism, I came across this funky ‘devolution’ website, via TOWLEROAD.  You can ‘devolve’ your self by uploading a pic into their interface.  Here’s what I would have looked like 3.2 million years ago during the Australopithecus afarensis era (or after I wake up after a 13-hour sleepathon on any given Sunday):

Damn, I’m still so strappingly handsome, ain’t I?

Devolve yourself HERE!

Legacy: Heath Ledger, We Will Never Know

I was thinking about Heath Ledger today while watching his portrait on the Biography Channel and decided to repost something I had written on the day he died, a little over a year ago, on my now-defunct Myspace blog…I know the truth of how he died has since been revealed (accidental overdose on prescription medication) but at the time, the gossip bloodhounds had a field day, as they always do but I was just saddened by the death of a great, young actor.

Word of mouth out of Hollywood, even before its release, was that Ledger was a shoo-in for an Oscar nod for “The Dark Knight”.  Insiders reveled that not since Anthony Hopkins seared the screen as Hannibal Lechter has a film villain been so diabolical, so nonchalant in the human pursuit of evil. That the hype sustained the truth is testament to Ledger.  His Joker is an archetype, a new paradigm in cinematic villains.

Also, as of that writing I had only seen “Brokeback Mountain” once, and thought it was a fine film, but not so quick to jump on the ‘masterpiece’ bandwagon.  It is only in revisiting it do I truly understand its depth and beauty and, yes, I could see why people (Jake Gyllenhaal’s creepy performance notwithstanding) would call it a ‘masterpiece’.

January 22 2008

Heath Ledger
Current mood:  melancholy
Category: Movies, TV, Celebrities

A revelatory, astonishing performance by a soon-to-be great actor in a good-not-great film. That’s what I said when I first saw Heath Ledger in ‘Brokeback Mountain.’ So few times in my film-going life had I witnessed a performance of such visceral implosion – a man bleeding inside out from inner torment. In an improved more cohesive world, Ledger would have walked the stage and accepted a most deserved Oscar that year.

As you all heard, Ledger died a few hours ago, and I only hope it wasn’t due to drug abuse, which has been hinted at, or suicide – that would only prove his cowardice. I feel sadness for his daughter and ex-wife (especially if it were drug use), but my tolerance remains quite low for suicides and overdoses due to recreational drug use (no sympathy whatsoever for that kind of overdose, actually – you know what the risks are), especially when children are involved.

Something struck me when I heard the news. I’m not sure why it affected me – not since River Phoenix died almost 15 years ago (of an overdose, no less) has an actor’s death made me stop and take a deep breath. Here was a man not privy to the gossip hounds, nor a usual staple in the tabloids eighth level of hell. Not much on the radar in Perez Hilton’s subhuman swill pool (and he, after all, is the gatekeeper to that eighth level of hell).

Sure, the gays loved him because of ‘Brokeback’ and I often wonder how many gay men would really care all that much of his passing if he never starred in that film or if he didn’t possess such a manly beauty.

But lovers of film in general knew him as a raw talent – as an actor, he seemed to come from another time, where and when actors delved into their psyche to explore the human remains, no matter how dim-witted the film or revolutionary the project. Here was a talent that would stand with the greats in time.  Just like Marlon Brando and Sean Penn, he wasn’t transient.  He was that good.

I actually believe that. And now, I’ll never know. And that’s partly why it affected me so. I mean, actors and actresses die all the time, but so few so young. And even fewer so talented. We will never know.

What a loss for true film fans. This is a music video directed by Ledger. It’s for Ben Harper’s “Morning Yearning” and proves that Ledger also had an instinct for directing.

I will never know. We will never know.

My fingers touch upon my lips
It’s a morning yearning
It’s a morning yearning
Pull the curtains shut try to keep it dark
But the sun is burning
The sun is burning

The world awakens on the run
And we’ll soon be earning
We’ll soon be earning
With hopes of better days to come
That’s a morning yearning
Morning yearning

Morning yearning…

Another day another chance to get it right
Must I still be learning?
Must I still be learning?
Baby crying kept us up all night
With her morning yearning
With her morning yearning

Morning yearning…

Like a summer rose I’m a victim of the fall
But am soon returning
Soon returning
You’re love’s the warmest place the sun ever shines
My morning yearning
My morning yearning

Morning yearning…

Reel Life: Thank U, India

Happy New Year again, one and all – it’s been a few weeks, I understand, and I thank all of you who have inquired about the lack of posts-a-plenty.  But, there’s a legitimate excuse – I’ve had the flu, missed almost a week of work, and still can’t shake this groggy, nasty head cold due to this arctic freeze we’ve been slogging through this week (at least here in NY).

Oh, woe is me, blah blah blah.  I’ll try to update as frequently as possible, but I can’t even promise myself I will.  Especially since I’ll soon be writing my American Idol Report Card on a weekly basis.

But, I’m meandering now.  Here is my first post of 2009 (also, see the post script below)~

If you haven’t seen “Slumdog Millionaire”, you’re missing a juxtaposition of wonderment, sadness, darkness, exhilaration, surprise, giddiness and unadulterated joy and finally, romance.  Because of its popularity and copious awards (it will be a sure-fire Oscar contender), there’s a backlash brewing already.

I say, fuck the naysayers who’ll hate it based solely on its mass appeal (don’t you hate people like that?!) ~ enthrall yourself in its magic.  Sit back, suspend some belief and relish in the amazing script by Simon Beaufoy (you’ll wonder why no one’s thought of some of these plot points before, so archetypal it is) and the natural, beautiful performances (most notably from the two leads, Dev Patel, the adorable actor who’s one of the stars in the great BBC show “Skins”, and the intoxicating, stunning Freida Pinto).

I said it before, I’ll say it again ~ it’s hard to fathom that the same man who made the disgustingly demented “Trainspotting” helmed such a tale.  But, Danny Boyle also made one of my favorite films of the past few years, “Millions”.

Here’s the last scene and closing credits of the film, where the cast dances, in grand ol’ Bollywood style, to “Jai Ho”~

Enjoy ~ because it’s only a matter of time before Fox Searchlight has it removed!

 

Music Box: Best And Worst of 2008

It’s another year for the self-involved, pretentious, wannabe critics to compile their Best & Worst lists across the blogosphere, the tabloids, the social networks, the TV screens and the mirrors.  So, why shouldn’t I partake?  I mean, I’ve been doing it for too many years to recall an exact time frame, but I’m sure longer than many of you were even alive

As it is, my listening experiences in 2008 haven’t been so prodigious as norm.  Usually devouring hundreds per year, I’m lucky if I’ve spelunked dozens; living without an iPod (R.I.P. 2004-2007) severely limited myself to sonic pleasures I’ve yet to behold.  While I’m “old-school” enough to adore the physical CD and all that it entails (reading the liner notes, the lyrics, the credits, etc…), it was more efficient to swallow everything I could while living in the solitude of MP4s swirling inside my head via Apple’s global power sword.  I make my living in the music industry by way of music television, having to view dozens of music videos a week, most of which I can barely stomach.  You’d surmise correctly if you thought that I’d have any CD at my fingertips (for the most part I do – I do love my label contacts!).  But you’d be mistaken if you think I’ve listened to most.

I’m a man with a more mainstream musical mindset than most blogs I read (I mean, have you even heard of half the CDs on Pitchfork’s list?  Didn’t think so…), so, for better or worse, here’re 20 of my favorite CDs of the year (affectionately listed as “la Belle”) followed by 10 abominations (“la Bête”).  They’re in no particular order of importance of love or loathing.  If ya wanted to, you could list any of my favorites in varying degrees of hierarchy.  I guess I could have listed them alphabetically, but I much prefer stream of consciousness…

(Oh, yeah – I’m always up for suggestions, so shoot me an e-mail or a comment to let me know what I’m missing.  I just might review it on my upcoming music review blog!)~

La Belle…

K’NAAN – THE DUSTY FOOT PHILOSOPHER Maybe I’m just an aging ol’ coot, but while I was scratching my head at the heralded Lil’ Wayne, I reveled in this lyrical, fluent, and exuberant Somalian-cum-Canadian poet~

RANDY NEWMAN – HARPS & ANGELS Still a persnickety lil’ curmudgeon.  Oh, yeah, and the legend (and genius) thrives~

GIRL TALK – FEED THE ANIMALS Fucking brilliant~

RAPHAEL SAADIQ – THE WAY I SEE IT You can have Ne-Yo and his multiple Grammy nods.  By spelunking the fragments of the past, Saadiq creates soul for the here and now. And maybe tomorrow~

MAGNETIC FIELDS – DISTORTION Even when Stephen Merritt ain’t singing them, he’s living them – and so are we/am I~

MAVIS STAPLES – LIVE: HOPE AT THE HIDEOUT A live companion piece of sorts to 2007s masterful “We’ll Never Turn Back”, adding a depth and guttural fortitude that shakes you to the core~

CONOR OBERST – CONOR OBERST Finally deserving the ‘New Dylan’ moniker hipsters have been pinning on him for more than a decade.  Not that there was anything wrong with that~

PRETENDERS – BREAK UP THE CONCRETE As imperfectly perfect as their canon suggests, this time with a hillbilly slant~

SHELBY LYNNE – JUST A LITTLE LOVIN’ Magnificent Dusty tribute by the most criminally underrated and unappreciated vocalist of the past 20 years~

AMADOU & MARIAM – WELCOME TO MALI Thrilling follow-up to their wonderful “Dimanche a Bamako”~ as import only, for now, but own it when it arrives domestically in March 2009~

TV ON THE RADIO – DEAR SCIENCE One-upping “…Cookie Mountain” in songcraft and sonics?  That’s gotta be a miracle~

DUFFY – ROCKFERRY Dusty Springfield? Give me a break. She’s Lulu by fiat, and that’s the next best thing~

DRIVE BY TRUCKERS – BRIGHTER THAN CREATION’S DARK Overkill might not be their usual métier (“Southern Rock Opera” notwithstanding) but who cares?  These 19-tracks prove to be their most melodious and fluid~

AL GREEN – LAY IT DOWN The sexiest mothereffin’ voice of all time’s still inspiring (and perspiring and panting and loving) at 62, this time sans Jesus (woot!), with loving support from John Legend, Corinne Bailey Rae and Anthony Hamilton (Green’s closest heir apparent).  And praise be to whatever for stealing the Dap Kings’ horns back from the evil clutches of Amy Winehouse~

ARTHUR RUSSELL – LOVE IS OVERTAKING ME Taken by AIDS in 1992, this is a lovingly harvested gift from Audika, chronicling his early 70s Country/Pop/Folk tone poems right up until near-death~

VAMPIRE WEEKEND – VAMPIRE WEEKEND Actual truth in hype. Go figure~

SANTOGOLD – SANTOGOLD Usually avoiding the hipster-blog syndicate, I was struck by the songcraft over the visual (and the voice)~

LINDSEY BUCKINGHAM – GIFT OF SCREWS Replacing the acoustic splendour of “Under The Skin” for his avant garde innateness.  And still one of the greatest guitarists.  Ever.

KINGS OF LEON – ONLY BY THE LIGHT Sure we knew the Kings of Leon had a great sound. But who would’ve though that Caleb Fallowill would morph into a great singer?

BLITZEN TRAPPER – FURR And The Band played on~

******************************************************

…et La Bete

LEONA LEWIS – SPIRIT A voice so emotionless and sterile she makes Sade sound like the Queen Of Soul, it will be an injustice if Lewis’ rise were anything more than a laconic lapse of the public’s judgment~

BON IVER – FOR EMMA, FOREVER AGO Justin Vernon whines mumbles whines. Shut the fuck up, bitch!

T-PAIN – THR33 RINGZ Minstrelsy is alive and well.  And as my friend Jim so eloquently intoned, innately irrelevant~

JANET JACKSON – DISCIPLINE As sexy as skid marks on an ivory velvet rope~

FLO RIDA – MAIL ON SUNDAY Section 8 Hip Hop for white boys who love dem some ring tones~

DAVID COOK – DAVID COOK Endearingly refreshing in an Idol realm, sure, but diluted Daughtry (which is diluted Nickelback, which is execrated grunge)?  I demand an Idol recount~

SCARLETT JOHANSSON – ANYWHERE I LAY MY HEAD Mrs. Ryan Reynolds. Quasi actress. Earwig.

 

 plies PLIES – DEFINITION OF REAL Rarely has the moniker ‘goon’ been so clearly defined, which we’d let pass if there were an iota of talent, which there isn’t ~

DANITY KANE – WELCOME TO THE DOLLHOUSE Ring! Ring! Hello? Is this Ashton Kutcher?  What?  You DIDN’T? It was DIDDY?!?!

DAY 26 – DAY 26 Danity Kane wasn’t enough. Pimp Diddy punk’d us again.

Happy 2009!!!!! (I hope…)


My New…OUR New…PRESIDENT OF THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA

“If there is anyone out there who still doubts that America is a place where all things are possible; who still wonders if the dream of our founders is alive in our time; who still questions the power of our democracy, tonight is your answer.

“It’s the answer told by lines that stretched around schools and churches in numbers this nation has never seen; by people who waited three hours and four hours, many for the very first time in their lives, because they believed that this time must be different; that their voice could be that difference.

“It’s the answer spoken by young and old, rich and poor, Democrat and Republican, black, white, Latino, Asian, Native American, gay, straight, disabled and not disabled – Americans who sent a message to the world that we have never been a collection of Red States and Blue States: we are, and always will be, the United States of America.

A Real American Family (photo courtesy the Huffington Post)~

Over the top?  A lil’~