Recommended rock; plus, some things random
Our New Orleans: Circumstances make the locals play just a little bit harder. Standouts are Dr. John, who has some real blues for the first time in the career, and Irma Thomas, who has them for the first time since she got famous. Many of their less nationally reknowned colleagues, though equally haunted, are more cheerful: the flood is just one more pain to play through. No matter who washes them away, they'll be back.
Shakira, Oral Fixation, Vol. 2: She wants to be your slave and your queen, but mostly your muse. She's sick of her makeup, so help her take it off, and stop calling her a whore. She loves you, you love someone else, but don't worry about her: she's not gonna cry, at least not in public. She knows it's a cannibal world, so take her advice, OK?
Lady Sovereign, Vertically Challenged: The "biggest midget in the game" has no authority in her voice, which leaves her free to subvert the best-laid plans of unoriginal gangstas, the patriarchy and her landlady. You can do it too: just do something random. Her lyrics don't kill, but they're funny enough to distract you while she gets out the crowbar. Which is probably more progressive than flashing one's ass.
Also noted -- Madonna, Confessions on a Dance Floor: Honourable, only "Hung Up" is exceptional.
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Recommended reading: Christgau's Eminem essay is definitive. Fametracker explores the Vanity Fair cover which featured Keira Knightley and Scarlett Johansson naked and yet was not aesthetically pleasing. More time consuming is this week's end-of-an-era: Sybille Bedford's A Legacy was the last great chronicle of the petit aristocracy in fiction.
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Useless statement: Film is a visual medium. Useful substitutes for "visual" in that sentence: "temporal", "popular".
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Easier to believe than the truth.
***
Too befuddled to make a useful statement about Ken Livingstone.
Shakira, Oral Fixation, Vol. 2: She wants to be your slave and your queen, but mostly your muse. She's sick of her makeup, so help her take it off, and stop calling her a whore. She loves you, you love someone else, but don't worry about her: she's not gonna cry, at least not in public. She knows it's a cannibal world, so take her advice, OK?
Lady Sovereign, Vertically Challenged: The "biggest midget in the game" has no authority in her voice, which leaves her free to subvert the best-laid plans of unoriginal gangstas, the patriarchy and her landlady. You can do it too: just do something random. Her lyrics don't kill, but they're funny enough to distract you while she gets out the crowbar. Which is probably more progressive than flashing one's ass.
Also noted -- Madonna, Confessions on a Dance Floor: Honourable, only "Hung Up" is exceptional.
***
Recommended reading: Christgau's Eminem essay is definitive. Fametracker explores the Vanity Fair cover which featured Keira Knightley and Scarlett Johansson naked and yet was not aesthetically pleasing. More time consuming is this week's end-of-an-era: Sybille Bedford's A Legacy was the last great chronicle of the petit aristocracy in fiction.
***
Useless statement: Film is a visual medium. Useful substitutes for "visual" in that sentence: "temporal", "popular".
***
Easier to believe than the truth.
***
Too befuddled to make a useful statement about Ken Livingstone.
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