Vacation Vixen: Heather Morris

That episode made no fucking sense. But Brittany as Britney made me want to lick my television. If I wasn’t watching with my mom, I might have.

Vacation Vixen: Jodie Foster

I have a lot of complicated feelings about Jodie Foster. On the one hand, she is my first girl crush and my favorite brilliant, independent, uncompromising woman in Hollywood. On the other hand, she stands up for some real assholes like Mel Gibson and Roman Polanski. Well, I guess the one thing my brain can agree on is that she looks fucking hot (and gay) as hell in a tank top. OK, fine, it might be a muscle shirt instead – but it’s Tuesday and gets the benefit of the doubt. What can I say, when life gets confusing I hold on to the simple truths.

Vacation Vixen: Marion Cotillard

Now if this photo doesn’t make you think about the very opposite of the start of a work week, I’ve failed in the most fundamental sense possible. As you’ve no doubt guessed, I’m taking a quick vacation this week. Not one to leave a friend hanging, I leave you with lovely vixens to fill the void. First up the magnifique Marion. See, Monday isn’t so terrible after all. And, if you’re so inclined, you can follow my utter unproductive @dorothysnarker.

~Kitten Wine~#19: Red Wine And Downers

Tales from the years in exile:

The years 1994-98 may as well have never existed for me!

They were a four year period where I pretty much shut myself away from the world. The depression that had struck in 1991 clearly wasn't going to go away and it clung to me like an ungainly and smudged tattoo. On top of that there had been a succession of disastrous relationships, all of which never seemed to end in the non-acrimonious way they often did in TV and films but in calamitous misjudgements that left me battered, bruised and emotionally scarred. Yet another relationship crashed on the rocks in 1994 and so I called it a day and simply withdrew.

For the previous 10 or 11 years I felt like I had gone out every single night. Staying in at home was almost a taboo....it was unthinkable! In my diary of 1989 I actually write of the shock of staying in one Wednesday night in March....meaning I had gone out EVERY single night in the first three months of 1989. Nights in were viewed as a waste, especially when there were bands to go and see, friends to have a drink with, our own bands to rehearse with, girls to smooch around with, and the feeling that if we stayed indoors something important might happen and we'd miss it!

So now, in mid-1994, I shut myself away. Locking myself in my room with my records, my videos, my books and my ever increasing fondness for Red Wine and Jack Daniels. Red Wine had become my drug of choice....I had progressed from the ludicrously unpleasant German sugarswill of Liebfraumilch and Riesling, through the Chardonnays and Sauvignon Blancs and had now found that Red Wine suited my mood, and did the job properly.

I also seemed to give up on music at this time too. Grunge and Britpop came and went without affecting me in the slightest. The Nineties became a non-decade for me. Some people, 5 to 10 years younger than me will talk longingly of a decade of Oasis, Take That, The Spice Girls and 'Three Lions', but it all just passed me by.

My own listening pleasure became tainted by my mood; Morrissey, Nick Cave and Tindersticks being the most played artists around this time. Plus a couple of others who suited my mood of the time and who we have come to talk about today.

In the Autumn of 1994 I went on holiday to Lanzarote....NEVER had I felt the need to get away and chillout so completely as I did at that time. Lanzarote isn't a particularly nice place, scenery wise....it's very parched and barren in places but this, and the intense heat felt just what I needed. I had with me a cassette that I had made of two bands I had recently become smitten with; Grant Lee Buffalo and The Scud Mountain Boys, and their music became so appropriate in every way to both the natural landscape and to the landscape of my mind.

I have a vivid memory of sitting on the porch of our apartment at almost 2:00 in the morning, the air still warm and humid, large stretches of scorched earth unfolding before me in the shadows, and the bottle of Red Wine I had for company loosening the grip of anxiety around me....just then 'Lone Star Song' by Grant Lee Buffalo crashed in on the headphones....it was PERFECT! The crunching guitar, the drawled vocals, the shrill harmonica and the blistering guitar solo just complimented everything.

As the wine worked it's magic, 'Mockingbirds' played out, that strange Lennonesque falsetto spinning around my head like refreshing breeze....miles from anyone or any unhappiness.

Another night I recall with remarkable lucidity; it had been an incredibly hot afternoon and we had all sat in the garden of our apartment enjoying a few light ales and the heat and the loooooong sunny afternoon meant that by early evening we were all rather over-refreshed. But we had to go out for our dinner and as everybody lethargically got ready to go out I stood looking out the front door, gazing at the deep crimson sunset, the smell of deodorant and hairspray everywhere, my head swimming in alcohol when 'Honey Don't Think' came on the music player. "It's the luck of the draw// How you wound up with me// I don't know how at all// But I beg you to stay// Crawl around on this earth// While the world's still small"....even now I can't hear those lines without being taken back there.

And then there was 'Happiness', a song I turned to a lot back in those days because of it's irony, and because it genuinely made me feel like everything was alright in the world.

The songs of the Scud Mountain Boys never really had much of an effect until I was back home again and dealing with my own self-imposed exile. Like I said in the opening paragraphs, there was a time when staying in was a novelty, but now by locking myself away, I felt safe. Safe from mental unhappiness and from having make decisions and deal with situations that were causing me deep anxiety.

The Scud Mountain Boys music is so slow and so painfully melancholic that I just enshrouded myself in their warm comforting embrace. Take the first two songs below; 'Reservoir' and 'Letter To Bread'....aren't they just the saddest songs you've ever heard?

Or take their woozy, somnambulent covers on well known songs; 'Gypsies, Tramps and Thieves', 'Witchita Lineman' and 'Please Mister, Please'.....so agonisingly beautiful, can't you feel exactly where my head was at in those dark days?

I also love the contradictory use of fire images in the songs 'Silo' and 'Freight Of Fire'(both in the one clip below); "Well I'm gonna burn the silo when you go" from the former juxtaposed with "Love it comes like a burning freight of fire// Love it dies just like three days without water" from the latter.

I realise that this must paint a sorry picture of someone dealing with their emotional issues with Red Wine and mournfully sad music, and that maybe that's not what this Blog is supposed to be about. We're supposed to be writing about our love of music and the happiness it brings us, right? But sometimes music goes way beyond that....sometimes music really is medicine for the soul, and if it hadn't been for these beautiful songs I can't even begin to wonder where I might have ended up. If you can't relate to any of this, if "it's only just music" then piss off and read an article about Paul Weller or Sting!!

I'd like to finish with a song that isn't by either of the two featured in this article, but which is my ultimate Red Wine And Downers moment; 'Dallas' by Silver Jews. I actually get scared listening to this track as it saw me through many a Cabernet Sauvignon soaked moment of doubt, and the very timbre of David Berman's voice just transports me back to a time and place I hope I've left far behind.

Happy trails to you, my Friends!

~Gordon~

Griff says: A young person's guide to the orkestern

Symfoniorkestern is an experimental indie-pop collective from Helsingborg/Göteborg in Sweden and if you've never heard of them before then prepare to be charmed and delighted. They came to mind recently as I came across their unique stylised cover of fellow Swedes Slutet's song 'Vilse' on soundcloud (the original of which can be found on on Bad Panda Recods).


Symfoniorkestern - vilse (slutet remake) [BadPanda44] by Bad Panda Records

Since starting as a one-man project in 2007, the Symfoniorkestern line-up has continued to multiply and their inventive and amiable polyphonic sound is currently based around a rich blend of guitar, bass, flute, saxophone, accordian and drums. The band have released three EPs to date; Ouvertyr (2008), Tänd eld på dig själv (för det du tror på) (2009), and Den Lilla Flykten, which was released in May of this year. All three EPs are currently free to download from the band's website. Symfoniorkestern are also notable for their imaginative and entertaining music videos which are directed by fellow Swede Pär Fredriksson. Enjoy:

Griff
xx

My Weekend Crush

You guys, I love Heather Morris. No, really, I love her. Brittany and Sue are in a death match for my heart on “Glee.” It’s like in those cartoons where one is an angel and another is a devil sitting perched on either shoulder and fighting for my soul. If it weren’t for those two I think I’d watch the show on mute until the musical numbers. But we all knew before “Glee” that Jane Lynch was something special, she was just never given the proper showcase until now for the rest of the world to come to the same conclusion. But with Heather, no one even knew she could act let alone steal every scene she is in.

By now Heather’s story reads like a Hollywood fairytale. She was the dancer who was brought in to teach the cast Beyonce’s “Single Ladies” dance (she did, after all, back up Queen B herself on stage) and then became a featured and beloved cast member. But thanks to Heather, Brittany isn’t just about getting the easy laugh for being the dullest crayon in the Crayola box. She also brings something entirely unexpected, a sweetness. I mean, come on, when Brittany clutched the little tell-me-where-the-bad-lady-touched-you doll on the way out the door in the premiere your heart had to melt a little. Brittany’s burgeoning sexuality (her interest in boobs, her interest in Santana) is the show’s sliest storyline. As for Brittana, hell yeah, you know I ship that.

And, sweet fancy Jesus, if that preview for the Britney Spears episode next week didn’t make you stop, drop and drool you might want to check for a pulse. Sweet and sexy. Damn, is it Tuesday yet? Happy weekend, all.

Tina Fey Thursday

Look, I know. “Glee” and “Modern Family” and “Parks & Recreation.” Wheee! I love all these shows, I watch all these shows, I laugh like a drunken monkey at all these shows. These shows have a guaranteed “Until I Delete” season pass on my DVR. But my first, my last, my always is “30 Rock.” Even the uneven episodes, even the uneven last season. This show owns me. Tina owns me. I want to take her behind the middle school and get her pregnant. Or at least try really, really hard. She is my forever Fake TV Wife. FOREVER.

So, naturally, I am excited about tonight’s “30 Rock” premiere. And by excited I mean, “If you call me during 30 Rock, I will cut you.” Too much? Well you’re just lucky I didn’t say “shoot you,” instead. The show continues to be an oasis of witty, urbane, goofy, smart and relevant writing.

With the premiere comes delightful Tina Fey late-night talk show appearances. Earlier this week she was on with her former Weekend Update co-host Jimmy Fallon. And my gal explained those delightful Drunk Tina shots from the Emmys after parties. You know, the ones where she and Amy Poehler were making a Jon Hamm sandwich on the dance floor. Yeah, you know the ones. On Fallon she lovingly referred to it as “The Night of the Drunk Moms.” (International folks can see it here.)

God, what I wouldn’t have given to be a fly on that wall. Amy’s pregnancy rack. Tina’s fake ponytail. Don Draper encouraging alcoholism at every turn. I want to go to there, times infinity. (Also, don’t worry fidelity lovers, that’s Jon’s longtime girlfriend and Jessica Stein herself Jennifer Westfeldt in the bottom right of the last picture. She, apparently, likes to watch.)

You may recall the Tina leaving for the limo paparazzi video as well. A refresher:

Oh, Tina, I love you even more now for clarifying that last bit. It’s so much more amazing knowing she also said, “Why are you filming me? Did I fuck Ray J in a video?” Like I was saying, I love her. I will never not love her. Also, don’t call me at 8:30 p.m. tonight. I’m on an unbreakable, unendingly awesome date.