give me the words

dear friends,

things are buck nutty right now.

because the monkey's very own band is playing a cmj show this friday, september 16 at the comfy bar 169, he was awarded a goodie bag & a shiny laminated thingamabobby that gets him into all the cmj shows. lucky chimp. I pawed at it in a narrow-eyed, envious way. if only there was a way to disguise myself as a man & steal his identity, what good times would there be! perhaps a 'tache is in order.

because I've been out of commission thanks to my new medication & the fact that I am part of the lucky 2% (?!?) percent who experience a delightfully debilitating headache/nausea/vomiting effect after being injected with it, I've been holed up in my bedroom looking like a molting animal &/or that emily rose* chick. thank god mi mami is still willing to travel for her spinally challenged child, 'cause otherwise things would've been much worse.

because despite the body & its failings, you can't keep a good cat down, I've been working on an almost-surprise birthday gift that will be presented on saturday & I don't have to worry about the birthday boy seeing this because he won't read this post until next week, ha! ha! ha! ha! ha! ha!

(maniacal laughter stops, sheepish look, return to normalcy)

because I took myself as a pre-birthday birthday treat to go see nouvelle vague (written about before here) at joe's pub which was really swanky (for me anyway, since all I ask for in a rock n roll venue is toilet paper & stall doors) & intimate. it was fantabulous! I am so in love with their lilting, echoing version of new order's bizarre love triangle, that, to quote rita hayworth in gilda: (melodramatically) "I think I'm gonna die from it!" & I know there's no way you won't feel the same.

as the producer/svengalis pressed play, strummed guitars & drummed expertly, their three chanteuses** presented vastly different interpretive approaches to their covers. phoebe was a long-haired blonde with a slurry delivery & a propensity to dance like a wanna-be bluesman, shaking her head back & forth, stalking the stage & occasionally blowing on a harmonica. her rendition of bela lugosi's dead had tears of laughter rolling down my face. what's wrong with that? intentional or not, I'm all for a madcap interpretation so it was pleasurable. melanie (the one on the right in photo & the monkey's favorite) had the face & manner of a porcelain doll. her big brown eyes fixed unblinkingly in front of her as she sang oh so sweetly. her renditions of the buzzcock's ever fallen in love? & the cure's a forest were the aural equivalent of a beautiful girl taking your hand & slowly walking you into her land of fog & velvet; completely, exquisitely sexy. my favorite of the three was an absolute nutter (of course) called camille (please pronounce: "camille-uh") who wore a tight white dress & what looked like ribbons of polar bear pelt around her shoulders. girl could sing prettily enough (as she did on a tender & bare bones rendition of in a matter of speaking) but she's the type of singer who isn't content with just that. she took chances like a maniac especially on her simmering guns of brixton, where her imitation of a trumpet in a long extended "solo" made me want to clap at the end of it like a good jazzbo. also, she was the instigator of the evening's most rousing moment when hair askew, bear pelt wilting, she demanded booze or else she would not continue singing too drunk to fuck. she made good on her promise too, she took the two other singers by the hand & led them to the back of the room, to the top of the bar, where she stole a bottle of 'spensive champers & like a lady, shared the bubbly with her audience before returning to the finish the song. she was ornery, crazy-eyed & absolutely hell bent on giving you an experience. never mind the 80's bossa nova, what could be more punk rock than that?

love, d

* seriously, I really want to see this movie no matter how goofy it may be. despite my aversion to zombie & slasher flicks, I loves me a good ole possessed by the devil movie. catholic horror! right on! yeah!

** because sometimes I have no fear, I bombarded the group after the show & made one of the nouvelle vague guys tell me what the names of all the singers were. then I shook hands like I was running for office & ran away. I could tell by the look of apprehension & surprise on their gallic faces that they could not believe the shameless pushy-ness of zeez americans. but I'm not an american...muhahahaha. silly frenchies. gotta love 'em though. they play nina simone followed by the pixies on radios blasted in supermarkets & that is tres su-weeet.

bands to go see live: man in gray, nouvelle vague