motoroller scalatron

Carla von Lahnstein may be my newest European fantasy lover, but Laetitia Sadier, lead singer of Stereolab, has given me special tingles since 1992. She’s tall, dark and brainy, has an accent, and seems like she’d smell faintly of cigarettes and red wine, but not in a bad way. I’d love to sit at un café with Laetitia, both of us looking bored while sipping red wine and talking about le philosophe. If I could be her microphone for one song, I’d be totally willing to ignore the fact that she’s French and decidedly left of Lenin.

Behold Laetitia! (she’s in the black sweater):

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R.I.P. Mary Hansen (in the red shirt)

Willin’

“And if you give me
Weed, whites, and wine
And you show me a sign,
Then I’ll be willin’ to be movin’.”

Linda Ronstadt / “Willing” from Prisoner in Disguise
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All of my earliest memories have a song playing somewhere in the background. Both of my parents love music and when they split up it was the end of truly a spectacular record collection. Before I was even born, there were signs that their marriage wouldn’t last. Duane Allman’s last concert ever was at the Painter’s Mill Music Fair on 10/17/71 in Owings Mills, Maryland. My parents were there and my mother was about six months pregnant with me at the time and barely twenty years old. Just twelve days after that concert Duane was killed in a motorcycle accident. My father, an obsessive Allman Brothers Band fan, was so despondent that he insisted that I be named Duane if I was a boy or Layla if I was a girl. Thankfully, my mother stood her ground and got her way when it came to naming me.

To this day there are many songs my mom can’t listen to and most of them are Allman Brothers Band songs and Derek and the Dominos songs. It’s not that she doesn’t like the music; once upon a time she loved that music, actually. I know that now it reminds her of a different time and I think everyone’s got a song or two from their past that they just can’t bear to listen to anymore. During the years my parents were together, there was music my mom kept all for herself. These were the records she would play when she was alone or at least wanted to be.

When I was a kid, my mom went to community college during the day and waited tables at night. The couple of hours she had between classes and waiting tables were sacred to her. She never had to tell me that this time was sacred - I just understood it to be so. When I’d get home from school, I’d often find my mom sitting in a faded plastic chair in the backyard, slowly smoking a Marlboro Light and sipping Ernest & Julio Gallo white wine from a pale yellow Tupperware cup. This was her ritual. Linda Ronstadt would be there too, always in the background just over my mom’s shoulder. For a good part of the 1970’s, my mother played two albums incessantly: Heart Like a Wheel and Prisoner in Disguise, both by Linda Ronstadt. My mother - the transplant from Queens, New York - listening to country songs while sitting alone. During those in between hours, those songs were her songs and no one else’s.

Feminist Bookstore

Going all the way back to 1997, I’ve always maintained a bit of a rock star crush on Carrie Brownstein of Sleater Kinney. My crush is now going to become full-blown stalking because, along with being a rock star, she’s also hilarious. I had no idea! Carrie Brownstein is a girl’s dream come true! This “Feminist Bookstore” skit is one of the funniest things I’ve seen in a while:

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“When I see the drum head, I see a woman’s face.”

Just Fine

I LLLLOVE Mary J. Blige. Her song “Just Fine” has been stuck in my head for about two months and it gets heavy rotation on my iPod when I’m at the gym. It’s so good and inspiring that I can’t help but look in the mirror and give myself the wink-and-point love guns when I’m on the elliptical machine, which is actually kind of dangerous:

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So I like what I see when I’m looking at me
When I’m walking past the mirror
No stress through the night, at a time in my life
Ain’t worried about if you feel it
Got my head on straight, I got my mind right
I aint gonna let you kill it

You see I wouldn’t change my life, my life’s just…

Fine, fine, fine, fine, fine, fine, ooooh
Fine, fine, fine, fine, fine, fine, ooooh
Just fine, fine, fine, fine, fine, fine, ooooh
You see I wouldn’t change my life, my life’s just fine
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Damn! This song makes me feel so good that I’m giving you wink-and-point love guns too.

Eat the cake, Anna Mae.

Ike Turner, one of the world’s most famous wife beaters, died today. It’s too bad he had to be such a bastard because the guy really was a genius. No one likes a wife beater though and I’m fairly confident Saint Peter is waiting at the Pearly Gates winding up his pimp hand and getting ready to greet Ike with a bitch-slap from on high.

Good luck with that, Ike.

R.I.P anyway.

Sweet Inspiration
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Forty Years Ago…

Otis Redding was killed in a plane crash on December 10, 1967. He was only 26 years-old.

That voice…there’s really not much else to say.

Can’t Turn You Loose
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What You Say to Me Is Just Paper Thin

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This takes me way back to the late 1980’s when I was a nice Catholic school girl and used to go to the Capital Centre USAir Arena Capital Centre each year for the Jingle Jam concert. Ahh the good ol’ days…

What’s Old Is New Again

There’s a certain Amy Winehouse song that’s been stuck in my head. I’m not going to name the song here because it took me a better part of a week to get the damn thing out of my head. Don’t get me wrong though - I really like her voice. But her hairstyle, heavy eyeliner, fake eyelashes, and her voice remind me a bit of another singer from another time…

Mary Isobel Catherine Bernadette O’Brien…

a.k.a. Dusty Springfield.

R.I.P. Dusty.

Another One Worth Seeing?

From Variety.com:

Runaways head to the bigscreen
The ’70s teenage band the Runaways has a new gig. Producers Art and John Linson will be bringing their rough and tumble coming-of-age story to the bigscreen in “Neon Angels.”
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I have a feeling this movie won’t be on the Cate Blanchett level of goodness, but a girl can dream, right? I sure hope this movie doesn’t go straight to DVD. Even if it does, I’ll still be all over it because I’ve never quite been able to let go of my girlhood crush on Joan Jett. I definitely would have couples-skated with her had she asked me. Besides, I think I am the only person I know who actually has a copy of Cheri Currie’s book “Neon Angels.”

Joan Jett and Lita Ford as teenage rock stars:

Beat is Nitty-Gritty…

…the music’s in your city too!

It know it’s still technically spring, but Memorial Day weekend always feels like the start of summer for me. The warm weather has a strange affect on me in that it brings me out of my Boo Radleyness and makes me want to give everyone a big hug and (almost) be a part of the world. Hell, this kind of weather makes me want to hug some of you girls and boys out there for just a few uncomfortable seconds too long…

…but the best I can do right now is send out a carefully selected YouTube dedication. So this one is for all of the super smart-n-sexy ladies* and all of the devilishly fine fellas on my blogroll:

* And I especially dedicate this one to this weekend’s birthday girl.