Wednesday, October 13, 2010

Women, some Girl Talk

Why do I have to wear short shorts and my bandmates get to wear pants? I'm kinda cold.

Last week I went to see the band Women and was struck by something odd. It wasn’t how good they were—it was my second time seeing them and there was gratuitous guitar wanking, inaudible vocals, and not much else. No, looking up through my PBR colored glasses at the stage I saw Women—but they weren’t women, like the people with boobs, they were Canadian dudes! Not only was there not a single woman on stage, looking around I only saw a handful of us in our best skinny jeans.

I wondered where are the ladies? Furthermore, what’s the deal with all these all- male indie rock bands with female band names?

First, every show I’ve been to lately is a complete dude storm—in both band and crowd. Now, I love a cute bro in glasses just as the next broad, but where are all the women at shows? Perhaps I’m in the wrong city or maybe we just don’t care about music and prefer to at home cooking dinner and making babies.

Maybe I’m being an “uppity bitch” but c’mon: Women, Girls, Girl Talk, Twin Sister, Communist Daughter, etc. A few years back, it was totally trendy to name a band after a woodland creature—Fleet Floxes, Grizzly Bear, Deeranything. But now you cannot get onto Pitchfork unless your band name is the Girly Girls and the lil’ Twin Bitch Sisters.

Is it satirical for a band of bros to call themselves Girls or Women? Like, ha! ha! we’re a bunch of dudes so it would be totally ironic to call ourselves something girly!!

I probably wouldn’t be so annoyed if I thought that popular indie rock was overflowing with female artists and those artists were respected and taken seriously. When female artists are buzzed about, it’s often not about the music. Kyle Forester of Crystal Stilts recently commented on this gender dichotomy on Pitchfork saying, “People love girls in bands, but they want to write lewd shit about them on Brooklyn Vegan. It is weird that the indie rock world is supposed to be politically progressive, but in terms of gender politics, it's sort of like 'Mad Men'.”
(you needn’t look further than Death Cab for Cutie sad sack Ben Gibbard to realize that, in music, the same attractiveness standards DO NOT apply for men and women. His wife's pretty hot though!)

There are a lot of awesome women in indie rock right now, but the bands that are the most blogged about are either a bunch of dudes with a lady name or a bunch of dudes with some sort of hot, maybe gimmicky female lead singer. For example, the New York based band Twin Sister; the band consists of five members- and the one girl is the vocalist. She has a “quirky” voice, conveniently contributing to the band’s sleepy, bedroom “dream pop”. I know little of Twin Sister’s background but the aforementioned uppity bitch in me suspects the lead vocalist was shoved in front of a microphone because she was hot in that indie-bangs-and-arm-tattoo kind of way and could sing. And behold! In an internet minute, Twin Sister’s album Color Your Life was given a 7.5 by Pitchfork.

Twin Sister and their lead lady are blowin’ up on the blogosphere, but they aren’t the only one with a strategically placed female lead singer. I saw the Brooklyn-and-blog based band Cults sometime in the late summer. Listening to Cults before seeing them live, the vocals sounded like they belonged to that of a 6-year old (and I loved it, by the way). I wasn’t far off. The lead singer looked about 19. Her voice is very twee and childlike and for Cults, it works well. But watching her fronting an all bro band, singing and sweetly swaying in front of an almost exclusively all male crowd, I was unsettled. (It should also be mentioned that one of Cults’ band members commented on the lack of women in the audience. sorry you couldn’t see me. I was in the back drinking beer.)

Don’t get it twisted—I love female vocalists. But with a new Brooklyn buzz band cranking out an MP3 a minute, it seems like cute female vocalists are a commodity for success—or at least a blurb on a blog.

There are women in indie rock. A lot of them. But women's music is often gendered- passed off as being sentimental or juvenile. Neil Young was taken more seriously than Joan Baez as an antiwar musician. I know a lot of women who are willing to admit they love Bob Dylan and I can’t say the same for men and Joni Michell. Today, Joanna Newsom, a probable genius, was at first passed off as being nymph-like with a childlike voice. Meanwhile, her 'freak folk' compatriot Devendra Banhart was touted as world-weary and wise. From politics to sports to media to indie rock, women’s accomplishments are often quantified, where man’s are simply accepted verbatim.

When I was doing DJ training for my college radio station a year ago, one of the (female) senior members of the station said to me, “It’s nice to see some ladies here”. Yeah, is refreshing to see actual Women, Girls, Sisters, and Daughters doing the Girl Talk and playing music.

Here are some talented bitches, Mountain Man. Get it? Ha! Ha!

Thursday, July 8, 2010

Things That Are Good

...Little kiddies dancing outside of your radio show as you play Beirut.

Wednesday, June 30, 2010

So Gay For: Lissie/Tequila Swigging Ladies

What do you get when you cross a Kid Cudi song, a badass lady, tequila, beers, plus a few bearded men for good measure? My wet dream, that's what! My friend Josh gave me a heads up about this artist, a tequila swigging lassie named Lissie (and he's a lifeguard, so you should trust him).

Tuesday, June 29, 2010

makeout music.

-by someone who makes out more than you do.

Here's some music you should be making out to:

"When I'm Small" -Phantogram

This song is from August 2009, which means it's not new. But it's new to me. And this is for people who are making out, not music snobs. And in my experience they are not the same people.

Ding Dong Special: The World Cup

We hardly knew ye tight buns, Glen.

Hey Sports Fans! It's the most wonderful time of year. Or, I should say, it is the most wonderful time of every four years. It's the World Cup, yallz!

I love sports (as long as they're not terribly American or boring like football or basketball). As the daughter of a hockey coach and the sister of a brother who once asked about a boy, "Does he even play sports?", playing sports was just expected of me. I'll be the first to admit I haven't played soccer since the Clinton Administration (full disclosure: when my family moved from Long Island to Pennsylvania when I was 11, I quit soccer. In PA, the tween teams were coed and I really hated playing with aggressive wanking-off tween boys. I also wanted to play tennis so I could wear a skirt, which is really beside the point). But the World Cup is all sorts of international fun. It's like the Olympics but without the bullshit sports like archery. It's thrilling and kinda cool that the whole world is caught up in well-thighed men kicking around a ball.

Here's the problem: I have no idea who to blow my vuvuzela at in the World Cup. I usually like to pick a side and get my jollies off arguing in their defense. This is not a problem with other sports:
Tennis: Serena Williams, badass & a babe. Rafael Nadal, badass & a babe.
Hockey: Detroit Red Wings, for my pops.
Skiing (yeah): Bode Miller, badass babe from New Hampshire.
Baseball: Kinda too boring to care but I guess the Mets or the Phillies.

I guess it should be obvious that as an American, I should root for the U.S. of A. Before they were knocked out by Ghana on Saturday, I still could not root, root, root for the home team. Before I'm called a turncoat (or whatever the post-18th Century equivalent for that term is), lemme explain: like Kayne said George Bush doesn't care about black people, the U.S. doesn't care about soccer. First, we call it soccer when the rest of the world calls it football. We think the games are too long. We think the men aren't manly enough. We'd rather watch American football or So You Think You Can Dance? The rest of the world is wacky about soccer and they play it from Slovakia to the Ivory Coast to South Korea. It's pretty neat.

Instead of rooting for these purple mountain majesties, I've found arbitrary reasons to root for other countries. First, it was England. I love all things English (Harry Potter. Nigella Lawson. Tea. Wellies, houndstooth, & cable-knit. Fog & rain. Colour, not color.) and, I fell madly in lust with jolly good sexy English defender, Glen Johnson (see above). England lost to the cold machinery of the Germans and now I'm lost without a team. Do I root for Spain because I experienced my first (and only) discothèque in Madrid? Or Ghana because Africa could use some happy news? Or Slovekia because who the hell knew they played soccer? Or Brazil cos they'll prollz win?

Here's the solution: I'll do what everyone assumes the ladies do anyway - ogled the players buns and pick a favorite that way. Thus, making this the World Cup Ding Dong Special.

We'll start with Spain first. The Spaniards just kicked Portugal and Ronaldo's well-coiffed ass with the help of this sexy hombre, Sergio Ramos. The locks, the abs, the name, Sergio. You're welcome. This international celebration of sport and the illin' hotties that play it goes on well into July, so it's going to be a hot month.

Friday, June 18, 2010

So Gay For: Sleigh Bells/Alexis Krauss

In a new segment on The Revolution Will Be, "So Gay For" will exhibit girl crushes and things I think are really neat. To qualify as a girl crush, a lady must be a ballin' badass babe. And things I think are really neat must be just that.

To start us off we have my favorite band du jour...but for, like, a couple months...Sleigh Bells and it's ballin badass babe front woman, Alexis Krauss. Sleigh Bells is a Brooklyn band creation of its instrumentalist and songwriter, Derek Miller. Both Florida natives, Miller and Krauss hooked up and headed north. Miller, who used to be in a hardcore band, creates heavy guitar riffs that are lightened by Alexis Krauss, who is able to keep it rough but sweet. It's Krauss' heavy breathing, singing, and screaming that makes Sleigh Bells one of the tightest new bands in 2k10.

And it's her killer bangs, arm tats, and shiny pants that makes her my absolute girl crush.

You'll hate yourself if you don't check them out:
(esp. "Rill Rill" and "Crown on the Ground")

Monday, June 14, 2010

Millenium Falcon Ding Dong

Han Solo: Angry, in a v-neck. Can't ask for anything more, really.

(It's my time honored start-of-summer tradition to watch Star Wars. Harrison Ford is a perk.)