Monday, March 19, 2007

"Aside from Sammy you're my best black Jew"



Although I fear becoming a cliche so soon in my foray into this shit I feel the need to express how much I'm digging this Amy Winehouse broad. One journalist described her as "a dark beauty with a slightly equine face" another described her as a "street version of Joss Stone." I can't help but feel that the second doesn't know what the fuck she's talking about, but then again I don't know that much about what Joss Stone besides that she's getting her swirl on with Raphael Saadiq and has a red afro, perhaps an homage to Chakha or Ronald McDonald. In any case can I pause to tip my hat to that first guy? He said she looks like a horse... a pretty horse. I love it.
Well I'm aware she's already creating quite a buzz for herself so if she needs introduction go to the wikipedia page and sample some of the tracks I've lovingly made available or peep the video that's been playing all over apparently (my location only provides basic cable, not cocaine cable). Like so many others I was minding my business and listening to More Fish a la Ghostface when I hear this track 'You Know I'm No Good'. This singer had a distinct voice, that matched Ghost's
style while he rambled on over the beat in typical exotic ass Toney fashion, that reminded me of Cherchez LaGhost. So I decided to look her up and *cough* located her latest album back when it wasn't available in the US. Yes its a send up of 60's R&B but the style in which she's singing isn't where her appeal lies. She can sing over samples of 'Ain't No Mountain High Enough' or 'Made U Look'. Obviously an added bonus to this girl for me is that she's a hip hop chick and digs Nas (her song Me and Mr. Jones is about trying to get to a Nas concert).
What I'm hoping is the appeal about her to everyone is that she's got an honesty to her that makes her refreshing. When you have plastic soulless debutante Beyonce to represent the state of R&B you jump on any alternative that's less polished and captures the broke down beauty of that kind of music. I think that the tide is trying to move away from cookie cutter (wishful thinking?) with their almost unexpected embracing of ghetto ass Jennifer Hudson (who I also love).
I'm not usually a modern R&B chick just because its generally all too pretty and pop-ish, all of which is fine and definitely has its place, but I just can't relate to it. Amy I can relate to, because she's fucking crazy. All of her songs are basically about the same damn guy and she has a general sense of being rambunctious to scandalous to brash and collapsing that makes me think she hangs out with a lot of black people (Side: Yes, I am that ignorant...yet probably accurate.) In any case the girl goes through it and she lets you hear it and see it. I don't know that much about her public persona besides that she beats bitches up and stay drankin but when she talks about her music theres a sincerity that's simple but refreshing. I don't know how much longevity she has... shes one of those people who I'm trying to see in concert soon because there's a distinct possibility that her body will be found in a hotel bathroom somewhere one of these days... and she also has the limitation that shes young and most of her subject matter is about her affair with a married? man, but as a flavor of the moment she speaks directly to the vulgar sinner woman in me and I like it.

Bonus: Know You Now (Live from the Astoria)

Back to Black lyrics

Friday, March 16, 2007

a view to the kill

He's sweet tongued and sensual, sensible and he wants me.
Heavy melody drifting down resting on my lips, eyelids, denser than air.
The timbre makes me swoon, its all honey bass and bass guitar and classical piano.
His charm is laced with this vulnerability, it's potent and it's the kind of openhearted sincerity that brazenly begs annihilation, borders on self-destruction.
I think I'm in trouble.
His desire makes me tremble in my armor as I realize my sirens and war drums are useless now that he has a taste for it, all of it, fruit, body, mind, soul, life, nectar, skin, and seeds.
He will devour me until I break, until I learn to harmonize.
Saccharine nothings are light and harmless, carried away by wayward breezes.
But these wine soaked riffs, these rhythms reverberate down in the deep.
So thick, you can still smell some of the notes on your hair long after the song is over.
It's not lovers rock and chocolate candy anymore, its soul metal creme de cacao mixed with gin, hard liquor.
We take shots. We take shots.
Intoxicated off the rhythm and bliss..revel in blues..so fcking wasted, and we only pause to blaze.
In any case I figured including the piece that gave this abomination its title would be fitting. Later on I think i'll play Lit. major and break my own work down line for line like a dramatic cunt. Muahz.


Thursday, March 15, 2007

Somniloquy

Its difficult to decide what direction to go with, in anything that ends with the option 'Publish' glaring beneath it. But since I have already opted to have one of these things I suppose that makes me one of those blogging douchebags and any pretense of humility should have left me whilst I began to set this page up. In any case i'm writing this as though to myself (which is the case anyway i'm sure) and i'll start from there somewhere along the lines I'll pick up some kind of muse and devote a consistent portion of this to that.