Hot Chip

Just for a change I went to a gig last night that was not being held at Rod Laver arena, to see Hot Chip. And they were very ace. But my god, what an irritating crowd -- I feel like I've been vomited on by 22 year old culture, which is not a nice feeling. A few observations:

1. I am very much older than I was.

2. MGMT are wielding an unfortunate influence on young male culture, with their unkempt Brooklyn boho look fusing in an uncontrolled manner with Australian jock culture. The result is lots of 22 year old guys sporting unwashed mops of hair and bangly things. This seems an extension of Australian jock protocol which demands the display of shell necklaces obtained from family trips to Bali.

3. Young people dance in a strange manner featuring head-jerking and elbow-jabbing.

4. The mixing of Scotch College sports jacket and pseudo-palestinian scarf things is apparently now a "look".

Inconsiderate Kylie fans: Evidence

KylieX2008

The aforementioned artistic laziness of Sticky & Sweet has made me appreciate KylieX2008 and its flaws. Within Kylie-fan-land, this is a deeply controversial tour, having been talked into some kind of symbol of the "Decadent" end of William Baker's reign (which actually shows no sign of ending). There have been quite valid complaints that many of the show's components are actually reformulated aspects of past tours. But also irritating bitchy-forum talk about how there weren't enough hits/were enough hits, blah blah blah. If I was Kylie Minogue and read her forums, I'd resign purely to escape her bitchy bitchy fans. But anyway, I'm not Kylie Minogue and I should just get over it.

The intent of the show was to move away from the Showgirl phase. No feathers, less old favourites, a more minimal look and sound - a move back to the now hallowed Fever era and its comparatively bold simplicity. This was an exciting shift because I and her *better* fans have always thought K is at her best when she's pushing the envelope and isn't in career retreat mode. (Although interestingly this was a career retreat of sorts, since X has sold well below expectations. So well done for not pulling out the feathers.) 

But the centrepiece of this stark simplicity - her giant, stark and simple stage - was, for me at least, part of the reason the show failed to connect. The stage was a monster. Basically a giant light box with a massive slanted video screen floor, and movable video curtains that could shift around the stage creating various effects and moods. No steps, no catwalk, no giant rotating things. Just Kylie standing in a box, and occasionally looking lost in it. While I can appreciate the stark minimalism, I notice that in each show my attention often wandered to the mechanics of the stage - how do the light curtains move?  Where's that light coming from? Where did that giant skull come from? How is it rigged up?

Another mini-issue for me was that lots of the show's best moments were kind of, if you think about, rejigs of past best moments. The entrance as a kind of cyborg-type-thing was like Fever's "Kyborg" rising from the stage; geisha stuff has been done before; elements of Body Language Live ran through it, and I'm sick of her closing with I Should Be So Lucky. But when it was pushing new ground I was amazed. Particularly the skull section, with its contrasting of gorgeous electronic imagery, a glitter skull and, bizarrely, Communist chic. Like every Kylie moment that *really* grabs me, it eluded to themes much darker than it actually revealed, particularly in the songs where that skull was just sitting there, overshadowing everything. This is the peculiar appeal of K: we never get to see what's going on inside, which means that whenever we get the slightest hint of the dark, the complex and the personal, it can wield a lot of power.

But on some level I remained disconnected. I can appreciate that artistically this was a much superior show to Madge's  -- stylish theatre compared to a casino extravaganza. I still don't know what I think of it. I think it was great, if flawed. But I also think that there's been no real shift in her art (yes I said it) since KylieFever. Which makes me wonder what she'd be like sans William Baker? Now I'm sounding like a forum bitch, but it's just a thought.

And speaking of bitches, here's a shout out to the lovely ladies who decided to spoil my view, and the views of all those behind me, with their grotesque "showgirl headdresses", which they refused to take off because they were "very expensive". Nice.

2008 part one: Sticky & Sweet

Look at those massive, massive cheeks!

I've been neglecting things here lately because, mostly, I've been slave to feelings of *I should be doing something more important*, even if not actually doing so. This means I've missed the perfunctory 2008 wrap-up post. So over the next few weeks I'll try to cover the key points, at least. These are: Madonna's Sticky & Sweet tour and Kyliex2008, both of which my meandering search-for-meaning activities managed to get me to last year (or in Kylie's case, 3 times). So to get the ball rolling, here's my take on Sticky & Sweet, a profoundly disappointing tour.

But I should be honest. My perception of Sticky & Sweet is skewed in two ways. Firstly, by the absolute wonder of the Confessions tour, and secondly, Madge's ill-fated decision to purchase slightly too large and distracting cheek implants. This means that, for me at least, the whole show is infused with a sense of decay, decline, tragic-fending-off-ageing-but-failing, and various other negative associations. But also, aesthetically, the show just wasn't very good.

Whereas Confessions seemed like a holistically conceived and realised masterpiece (and I'm not exaggerating), Sticky seemed slightly av. As in the kind of show you might get from Janet Jackson or Xtina. But not a Madonna masterpiece. Here are some of the problems:

1. Awful costumes that accentuated Madge's gruesome and ghoulish new look.

2. Crass lighting and visual imagery that seemed cheap and cheerful.

3. Too much bodgy guitar. Look, we know you can't really play guitar, so if you need a rest just do what every other superstar does and keep the crowd in a holding pattern with a "dance" interlude while you take a break.

4. A bizarre "gypsy" interlude (when in fact, Madge seemed to be sitting on floor cushions, perhaps also taking a little mini-break)

5. A profound sense of soullessness and lack of joy.

6. The fact that Hard Candy is just not that good. And no Stuart Price.

While, yes, she can still dance, I was left with the impression that this was some kind of tipping point moment on the way to a more Cher-like freak show era. And yes, a lot of this is about age. Watching Confessions in 2005,  it really did seem like Madge had valiantly thwarted the ageing process. Not just because she had a more subtle face lift at the time (presumably), but also because she really did seem to be at the top of her game in every aspect. But now there's the sense that yes, she's human, and that also, for the moment at least, she's lost her way. Looking forward to the comeback. 

Her sugar is RAW.

Arrrghh. I find Susie Orman so frustrating! Here is her thesis: People who are struggling with money have low self esteem. People who have lots of money have high self esteem. Your personal worth equals your self worth. And there's Oprah nodding along, as Susie O starts making people cry who obviously have low self worth. It's like there's some particular talk-show universe in which grand metaphysical statements which obviously make no sense are let pass without challenge (although I guess comforting metaphysics is Oprah's bread and butter). So the reason for economic polarisation is self-esteem? Some have it, some don't. Those who have it rise to the top, those who don't sink to the bottom, 1890s style. So society must rely on a certain number of people to have low self esteem to do the jobs that people with high self esteem don't want to do. Or can we just use migrant workers who must come from countries with low self esteem to plug the gap? I guess we also don't need welfare or anything like that, since people can just choose to have high self-esteem (which is her subtext). I know that what she's selling is a kind of comfort (if I don't have much money, the only thing holding myself back is myself), but in a way doesn't this just provide one more thing to feel worried about (if I don't have much money, it's my fault). 

I find this hypnotic for some reason.

From NYTimes.com:

"On a gray day in Paris, Zoe was having lunch at the Bristol, where she was staying with her husband, Rodger Berman, who was once an investment banker and now produces award shows for television. “I love Paris,” Zoe said as she studied the menu. “If I spoke the language, I’d live here.” She looked up at the waitress, who had appeared at the table. “Can you do crudité?” Zoe said. The waitress looked confused. “You did it yesterday. With cucumber. If not, I guess a salad, no dressing.” The waitress still looked confused. “You see,” Zoe said to me, “there’s just too much of a communication barrier.” Zoe took a sip of her English Breakfast tea. “I wish caffeine had vitamins in it,” she said."

Ok, election over, back to reality. Lets talk Rachel Zoe, aka 'The Raisin'. I was lucky enough to enjoy an episode of her reality show the other night and was entranced by her emaciated frame, shaky gait, overly-large sunglasses and Starbucks, as well as her critically low levels of self-awareness (bearing in mind that reality shows don't usually like people to be self-aware). It's like she's the gruesome future awaiting her proteges (or 'Zoebots' as they're called), and that's a wonderful thing to watch. I couldn't find any footage on Youtube, but I particularly liked her incessant reference to 'growing her brand'. It's like on-message politicking has bled into the fashion world and reality TV. Frightening.

My god, I didn't think I could be moved by presidential rhetoric anymore... And so refreshing to have a literate President elect ("the arc of history")... And he mentioned gay Americans (though not marriage, obviously). This has to be a first for an acceptance speech? 

Can't say I'm surprised about an Obama win, but on some level I never thought it could happen. But now I feel all these strange and foreign feelings like, you know, hope. And I'm *particularly* excited by Michelle Obama as First Lady.

The Mac is Back

Yikes, this one is blunt. Seems to augment McCain insider "whisperings" about the new momentum boosting McCain's chances - momentum "evoked" by a fast-moving camera over water, rock music, snappy editing, and flashing "McCain" on screen to the music. Is that a bit, how does McCain put it, "Commie"? Feels akin to Microsoft trying to do an Apple ad. And so long...

So sad... don't mess with cheeks!

2008

2005

My long weekend with the Prince of Tides

I've always been curious about The Prince of Tides. This is partly because I don't quite get the whole Barbra Streisand thing - maybe I'm too young, but I only know that she *is* admired, rather than having any admiration for her myself. My formative Babs experience was the very back lit and vain The Mirror Has Two Faces, but at the time this was consumed in the knowledge that there was probably some past pinnacle of achievement from which she had slipped...

Which explains my intrigue with The Prince of Tides - was this the past peak? Its 7 Oscar nominations suggests it was, but as far as I can tell, it's actually pretty shite. For example, the back lit lighting and extreme vanity is all still there in abundance - Babs makes being a therapist seem like the vainest thing ever. Prancing around in a mini with the camera tracking up her shapely pins (director: Babs); pouting suggestively after posing therapist-like questions ("what are you feeling?"); sliding off her glasses annoyingly in key moments suggesting the deployment of subversive therapist-smarts. It's all about looking like a therapist (in a mini with luscious lips).

But THEN there's the flagrant disregard for the ethics of therapy: Babs drills the brother of her client for information to aide her client, with no strategies in place to ensure the brother isn't horribly scarred by the therapy process. Then she hooks up with the brother, and even SLEEPS OVER in her client's apartment with her CLIENT'S BROTHER with no regard for how her client may perhaps feel about these FLAGRANT blurring of boundaries. It's kind of like Pretty Woman in the sense that heart-warming strings supplant any exploration of the murkier undercurrents beneath the gloss. Like rape for example - explored for about thirty seconds, but really just a plot device to symbolise the acknowledgement of past trauma, in order to allow enough growth for the Nolte character to HOOK UP WITH THE THERAPIST.

So yes, a very underwhelming experience, although I do feel a little bit more "gay" now. One more comment: I'd always assumed that The Simpsons was stretching it's Prince of Tides parody when Marge mouths the name "Lowenstein" as if it was the most poignant piece of poetry. But this actually happens! The ACTUAL final moment is Nick Nolte driving off into the sunset with his voice over mouthing the name "Lowenstein.... Lowenstein". So unintentionally hilarious.