I was lucky, lucky, lucky enough to see The Magnetic Fields on Friday night in Bloomington, at the Buskirk Chumley theater. The Magnetic Fields are one of my favorite bands, but saying “favorite bands” doesn’t even begin to describe it. I don’t think I would understand myself emotionally in relation to other people without 69 Love Songs. That’s right, an album single-handedly saved me from the autism spectrum.

I have spent so many hours of my life listening to their albums, and the voices especially of Stephin Merritt, Claudia Gonson, and Shirley Simms are permanently ingrained into the folds of my brain. Just seeing Shirley open her mouth and having that voice come out of it was a sort of magical-visceral experience that made me feel giddy and disoriented. And it was weird to look up and see John Woo and Sam Davol sitting in front of me, playing their stringed instruments, wearing the same facial expressions that I use to watch NBC on Thursday nights. More »« Less

Can you promise me something? It’s not huge, I swear. It will barely even take ten minutes of your life. Do you want to know what it is, before you promise? Okay, I can do that. More »« Less

(Pre-Script: Check out today’s guest post (by yours truly) at the always excellent Almost Four Stars!)

I recently got into a small tiff on another blog with someone about Lady Gaga. I didn’t realize it at the time, but evidently we were arguing about whether or not said Lady is a “musical genius.” And the argument evidently also eventually resolved itself in her favor, after the other party located this video:

I don’t know if I’m qualified to proclaim someone a “musical genius,” and even if I were, few people whose musical output lies entirely in the twenty-first century would receive that title from me. Lady Gaga may or may not be a musical genius-- she’s definitely a respectable songwriter thus far-- but the only thing the above video proves is that she used to be a catastrophically bad (or at least, very immature, as she was 19 when this video was taken) lyricist. My favorite is at the end (around 6:57), where the judge proclaims, “Norah Jones, look out!”

I would like to submit, for your approval, a photograph of another budding artist at the age of 21: More »« Less

Lady Gaga at the VMAs

I know, I know, I’m the last person in the entire universe to get on this bandwagon*, but still: damn, who the fuck is Lady Gaga, and what fucking planet is she from? Her songs are absurd dance explosions, her fashion is already the stuff of legend, and her videos are like super-condensed tiny little films that reference everything from Hitchcock to Minnie Mouse.

*Thanks, Marla!

They combine the superglam pop fashion sensibility that’s come to dominate celebrity culture since the passing of grunge (see:  Gwen Stefani, Beyonce) with the grotesque, disturbing, Uncanny Valley sensibility that was once found in the videos of Marilyn Manson. You can find any of them on youtube yourself, though (I particularly recommend “Paparazzi” and “Bad Romance”), so instead I’m going to show you a couple of things that you might not see otherwise.

Lady Gaga is a fantastic songwriter, of course, but that superslick production almost disguises what a talented musician she is. For all the vocoder she employs, woman has got a pair of LUNGS. Check out this video of her playing piano and singing a stripped-down version of “Paparazzi.”

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One of my favorite movies is Capote. It’s a gripping portrayal of Truman Capote’s yadda yadda yadda, but what I really like is how SMOKING HOT Catherine Keener is as Harper Lee. Oh yes. The best way for me to explain this to you would probably be to say that it’s similar to how I imagine how you, dear reader, feel about Colin Firth as Mr. Darcy. I don’t care who you are; I’m sure you have good feelings about that.

I was considering watching this fine cinematic venture the other night, and did a little impulsive googling, which yielded one of the most incredible film reviews I have seen in a long while. Behold this excerpt, all emphasis mine:

Truman had a lot of friends: homosexual, black-what have you, including the woman female novelist Harper Lee with whom he had a lesbian relationship. Wearing an unflattering wig, Catherine Keener’s Harper Lee was a volcano of seething lesbian ambition. The way Philip Seymour Hoffman pursed his lips while slurping on a Tom Collins really captured the character of this homosexual bon vivant like a photograph. It was almost eerie. Hoffman played this role with the relish of a born homosexual. He has said in interviews that he took up acting to meet girls after a football injury, but we don’t buy it. We know a homosexual when we see it!

I was both saddened and unsurprised to find that the dynamic duo responsible for this were composing in the vein of satire, but their prose still thrills. I will be hanging my hat upon the phrase, “a volcano of seething lesbian ambition,” for a long time to come!