Remembering Donna Summer

It’s a sad week in the world. On Wednesday, my Texas family came together for the funeral of my cousin, Maureen, who was only 50. She’s the first of my generation to die, and even though she struggled with health problems for most of her adult life, it’s still a shock. Living half way around the world, I find it hard to experience these things without the comfort of family nearby. I called my Dad, had a bit of a cry and felt better after hearing his voice. But that’s about all I could do. Over here you don’t have the chance to mourn together, to attend the funeral, go out for a meal after and remember all the good things about the person you’ve just lost. These are just the parts of life you miss out on when you’re an expat.

Now today I read the news of Donna Summer’s passing, from cancer, at age 63.

The famous Francesco Scavullo portrait from her Live And More album.

I think back to Maureen, who was on the dance team and sang in the choir in high school. I’ll bet she danced to some Donna back then. We lived near her and her family, and as one of my older cousins – with a very sarcastic sense of humor and a busy social life – she was immensely cool to me. In a late seventies, feathered hair kind of way. After college, she returned to San Antonio, got married and had a daughter. Over the years, her Catholic faith grew even stronger and she devoted much of her life working for and supporting the Church. Just as Donna Summer turned to God and gospel after the heyday of disco, Maureen sowed her wild oats and then built a life around her faith.

You can read a bit more about her by clicking here.

If you can ever call someone ‘Queen of’ (Soul, Rock, etc), it would have to be Summer – the undisputed Queen of Disco. Starting with 1975′s “Love to Love You Baby”, Summer and her producers created an entire new disco sound, leading the way on the dance floors and influencing decades of club and techno music. Today you can hear the breathy melody of “I Feel Love” in a commercial for Gucci’s Flora perfume while ‘Love to Love You Baby’ has been sampled by Beyonce, Timbaland and LL Cool J. Not to mention the numerous movies that have used her music: Priscilla, Queen of the Desert, The Full Monty, etc.

Summer’s biggest year for hit singles was 1978 – when I was the same age that EO is now – when she had four Number One hits: “MacArthur Park”, “Hot Stuff”, “Bad Girls” and “No More Tears (Enough is Enough)” – a duet with Barbra Streisand. How many times did I listen to On The Radio, her Greatest Hits double album? Too many to count. On my little Radioshack turntable, with headphones, singing loudly without realizing I was annoying the rest of the house. Between that and the Grease soundtrack you basically had the sound of slumber parties for the whole of my middle school years.

At the same time that I was singing badly to Donna, newly divorced parents (my Mom included) were hitting Burgundy Woods (God I love that name) to dance to her disco hits. Burgundy Woods – the big disco in our part of town – was a compelling, mysterious place, right off the access road on Loop 410. By day its grey-brown facade and huge parking lot hinted at nothing special, but at night I imagined it to be full of beautiful strangers, moving across the lighted dance floor and doing lots of other things – stuff that I wasn’t quite sure of. Coke was still cola to me after all.

So now I’m sitting here listening to Donna’s greatest hits, trying to decide what’s my favorite song. I downloaded a bunch of her stuff several years ago and have found it to be fantastic music to ride the subway with. The sensuous techno pulse of “I Feel Love” goes perfectly with the metal anonymity and churning wheels of a train ride. There is also one song I’ve fallen in love with – her cover of Barry Manilow’s “Could It Be Magic”. I know, it sounds naff, but it really is an amazing version.

For proof, check out Donna in this clip from a German TV show. After the disco dance interlude, you’ll find her – flat-chested, no push-up bra (it is Germany), just naturally awesome:

RIP Donna & Maureen

X

Go Ask Alice… for Lady Gaga tickets

She has special powers, she knows things, she wants to be my friend.

Her name is Alice, and I met her on my first attempt to buy Lady Gaga tickets. I know, I know, I’ve always been a bit harsh on the Lady, but she’s starting her Monster Ball tour in Asia – playing three shows in Hong Kong in May.

Very Slick-ian, don't you think?

So you’ll have to allow me a little motherly over-enthusiasm as I entertain visions of EO and I enjoying the spectacle and grooving to ‘Americano’ (we loved it in Puss n’ Boots). But, alas, I underestimated LG’s worldwide appeal and absolutely have not been able to score tickets.

This is where Alice comes in. I met her on the very first day of ticket sales, when I fell in to the rabbit hole of savvy marketing, scalpers and professional line-standers. Here I thought I was being clever: no online nonsense or hanging on the telephone for me. I rocked up to the Tom Lee music store – old school style – before they opened for sales. Well, me and about 30 other people. Nuts! As I was waiting and barely budging in line, a local (Hong Kong’er) lady approached to take the spot of an elderly man standing in front of me. I squared my shoulders and prepared to confront this, this – line-cutter, when she said he was just holding the space for her. In retrospect the old guy probably thought he was waiting for lai see rice not a Government Hooker (though he might have been pleased with that too).

I was curious by this turn of events and the seemingly innocent and naive-looking woman named Alice. We got to talking and she told me she’d camped out the night before and was able to purchase eight top price tickets. The old guy was her chance to buy even more tickets. She was of indeterminate age (anywhere between 28 and 45 I’d say) and just slightly – how can I be kind here – maybe one card or two short of a full deck. If she believed in unicorns, I wouldn’t be surprised.

But Alice had a major score on her hands. Even the stylish woman in front of us with the Celine sunglasses said she’d easily pay twice maybe three times face value. Easily! Me, I was hoping for nosebleed seats somewhere affordable, and I wasn’t about to pay face value for top seats – US$200 – even if Alice had been willing to part with them. In Mommy math, two front section tickets equals a whole term of EO’s ballet lessons, with money left over to buy me a tea and muffin while I’m waiting for her.

Then Alice told me she doesn’t even like Lady Gaga and was just purchasing tickets for a ‘friend’. Now I’m intrigued. She’s a pro, is she? I asked more questions – what’s her angle, where’s the game? The teddy bear sweatshirt is just camouflage, is it? I learned of a graduate degree earned in the States, a disability (something about her leg though she had no limp), and an unsettling incident of getting messed over for Leon Lai tickets. He’s her favorite Canto-pop King – think of Jason Mraz, make him even more bland and put him in a sweater. Leon Lai is an infinity pool i.e. completely edge-less.

This is Leon. He wants to be your friend.

Alice told me of scalpers who hire the local Indian and Pakistani boys to keep a place in line. Labour is cheap in Hong Kong, so this scheme works for everything by the way, from concert tickets to iPhone4′s to one-off McDonald’s Hello Kitty toys. And just as I thought I was about to get some real info out of Alice, the Tom Lee clerk comes out to tell us they are sold out.

The diehard concertgoer in me can’t let go without a fight and I’m thinking Alice is my best chance. So we exchange phone numbers, and I very nicely and shamelessly tell her I just want a couple of tickets for me and my daughter. If you hear of anything…

That was a mistake.

I rushed off from Tom Lee to a meeting and, like a character caught in a David Mamet play, I started getting calls from Alice. Weird rambling one-way traffic about not wanting anyone to find out, maybe she’s told me too much, she doesn’t want any trouble and then: am I a Christian? Am I Catholic? Do I want to be friends? She was weirdly endearing, and I wasn’t scared. Honestly. In fact I started to feel like Jack Donaghy with my very own Kathy Geiss. Cue the Marky Mark scrapbook! No, please don’t.

Then last Thursday night – after I missed out on tickets for the second show – I get a late-night call from Alice to tell me of a bonus third show with tickets going on sale Friday morning. Bless her, she has my best interests at heart. But Friday morning was YO’s school show, and I knew my real responsibilities rested with watching her, dressed as a member of a lost tribe, playing a big drum and singing about how to save the environment. Let’s see LG top that!

My compromise was to rush down to Tom Lee after the show, thirty minutes after tickets went on sale. This was my last chance and when I arrived: ri-dic-u-lous! A line of 80-100 people wait patiently outside, surrounded by a half dozen cops (Hong Kong loves a crowd to control!) and the remnants of a night or two spent outside: soiled newspapers, camp stools, pot noodle debris. Oh the humanity! I’m starting to have flashbacks to Monsters of Rock. Inside the shopping arcade, a smaller group – college kids and the elderly – is allowed to queue by the entrance to Tom Lee. They’d been camping out for two days and were still waiting to buy tickets! After hearing that, I turned around immediately and left the building.

Remember that great ’80s franchise, Lethal Weapon? Where Mel Gibson had a mullet and cuban heels and Danny Glover was the older, family man cop? And every time Mel and Danny got entangled in something crazy and dangerous, Danny would say, “I’m getting too old for this shit.”

That pretty much sums up my quest for Lady Gaga tickets. But I’m going to stay positive because I’ve learned a few things lately:

1. None of EO’s friends’ moms managed to get tickets either, so I’m pretty much off the hook.
2. I’m not a college kid anymore, but I do need to plan for retirement. A second career as a professional line-stander is looking pretty good to me now. So when Lady Gaga’s on her third comeback, I can get tickets for my daughter and my granddaughter.
3. Most importantly, I’ve made a new friend. Alice’s last text suggested I look in to LG’s Seoul show: tickets are reasonable and, she says, Korea is worth visiting.

When logic and proportion have fallen sloppy dead…

To Beyonce or Not To Beyonce?

That’s the question on my mind this week as I ponder what life has in store for America’s most famous new Mom, Beyonce Knowles Carter. I wonder what kind of nanny she’s going to hire. A drag queen, as suggested by some pseudo-reality-celeb? A reformed thug aka Memphis Poppins, from mediatakeout.com?

It’s a crucial hiring decision – one of the most important she and Jay Z are likely to make this year. So, in the spirit of rockmom solidarity and experience, I’ve drafted a sample want ad. Bee, feel free to use this verbatim. I believe it conveys your Super Couple lifestyle needs and requirements while conveying the aspirational ethos you live by.

Tell me what you think:

I can also help with interviews. Call me!

Much has been written about the low sales figures of Beyonce’s latest album, 4. Some speculate that marriage and pregnancy have been a natural pull on her ambitions, and after fifteen years in the spotlight who can blame her? I’ve never felt that Beyonce was anything more than a professional, and I mean that in the sense that she doesn’t betray any desperate need to be loved (yo, Britney) or to spread the ‘Beyonce’ message a la Madonna or Lady Gaga. You get the feeling she would do a great job at anything she tried – business, politics, teaching – and that the Beyonce we see and hear is nothing more than her public persona, not a window in to a tortured (Je suis une artiste!) soul.

I’m not ragging on her by any means. I’d prefer that my daughters listen to a true vocal talent like Beyonce or Adele, rather than a cartoonish, cynical vamp like Katy Perry or Ke$ha. It’s funny how you can watch Beyonce’s videos, with their full-on displays of sexuality, and yet not be offended by them. To wit:

I wonder why this is so. Is it because she is so physically superior that we can accept her bodaciousness the way we marvel at and appreciate the talents of a great athlete? Maybe it’s related to the lack of scandal in her private life. She works hard. She sings for Obama. She’s a humanitarian in stripper heels! Again, I think the key word here is professionalism. Beyonce covers all the bases: a feminist with an all-girl backing band and girl-power anthems; a woman who honors her roots by sporting afros and playing Etta James in Cadillac Records; yet edgy enough to appear in a weird ol’ Lady Gaga video. Not much there to cause insult or injury. So while we might prefer our rock stars to speak to and for our inner selves – Radiohead seems to fill that role for me these days – we can also swim at the shallow end of the pool and enjoy a good beat and an amazing voice.

Just once I'd like to be this fabulous. Photo courtesy thirstyroots.com

Yet I still can’t answer the question: is Beyonce a good role model? Since my girls reached an age where pop culture is a part of their lives, I feel I have to consider these things, whether the girls understand the lyrics or not. Maybe I’m overestimating the power and influence of Sasha Fierce here. Who knows? My litmus test for tween music has always been: what’s the message and is it a good one? Is it harmless and fun like Camp Rock or spunky and friendly like Taylor Swift? If it’s subversive, is it rebellious in a healthy way (think Pink or Kelly Clarkson)? Are the women on equal footing with the men? Or are they being degraded, exploited or abused in the name of so-called sexual freedom? Rihanna, I’m talking to you! The funny thing with Beyonce is I’m still not sure. Back in the ’80s, Madonna grabbed her crotch, sang out ‘Express Yourself’ and we teens thought: right on! These days, Beyonce grabs her breasts and hollers, ‘Girls! We Run This Mother!’ and I honestly don’t know what to think beyond: well, I can’t put this on our Beyonce playlist because she’s basically saying ‘mofo’ in the chorus.

There was a rock critic named Ellen Willis; she wrote for The New Yorker from 1968-75, covering the heydey of the Rolling Stones, Bob Dylan, Sex Pistols, Lou Reed, etc. I’ve been reading a collection of her writing called Out of The Vinyl Deeps and have been struck by so many of her insights in to rock stars, especially one of her favorite performers, Janis Joplin.

Putting multiple rings on it. Photo courtesy musiqueray.org

She writes, “unlike most female performers whose act is intensely erotic, (Janis) never made me feel as if I were crashing an orgy that consisted of her and the men in the audience. When she got it on at a concert, she got it on with everybody.”

Willis wrote those words over thirty years ago. Now how many female performers can you name who are truly like that?

It’s a short list.

If I Break Up With My Child’s School, Can We Still Be Friends?

You like me, you really like me!

Dear Outstanding Institute of Secondary Learning,

Hey! I’ve been meaning to write you for a few weeks now. I hope I can speak freely and honestly here. First of all let me say that I absolutely do not want you to feel under-appreciated. I think you’re great! Really. And I know you cost a lot of money, which I do not resent at all and which I know is going toward awesome teachers, top class facilities – like a student café that serves pesto paninis – a multicultural environment and really fantastic opportunities that are going to inform my EO’s learning in more ways than I can even articulate at this point. She loooooves school, seriously, and we really love the fact that it’s so easy to get her out of bed in the morning.

But, to be honest, it’s only been a few months – in a relationship that I’m hoping will last many years – and I think things are moving way too fast. In fact, I think we need to take a little break from each other. I know, I know, please don’t be offended. It was really great being able to take that tour last Spring and chat with students and attend an assembly where the orchestra played like professionals and the choir sang ‘Ave Maria’ and a young girl received an award for placing in the top five in the entire world in a literacy exam. You were super impressive. I also liked the snacks.

But then came the request to attend the afternoon ‘Laptop Induction’ which I found to be not only an obsequious thank you for the big commitment of purchasing an expensive but required laptop for my EO but also some kind of cheesy justification for spending all this money in the first place. EO enjoyed it (don’t we all love Power Point after all?), but for me it was like being invited over for dinner after I’ve pulled a back muscle helping you move house. And finding out that in fact you’ve just ordered take-out and the wine isn’t great. I’d rather be home watching Game of Thrones and actually spending time with my children.

Then we had to go to ‘Curriculum’ night where we got to see our EO’s tutor but not officially talk to him/her, and we were told that things are going great with those laptops (your money’s not going to waste, they’re not spending their computer time on House of Anubis and Angry Birds, honestly!). We learned how our children are going to be assessed and found out that eventually we’ll be able to follow their progress online, almost in real time, like tracking a hurricane or Angelina Jolie’s whereabouts. We were given full-colour brochures and more snacks, but by the end of the evening I felt that if I had to hear the phrase ‘learning in context’ one more time I was going to scream.

It’s not you, really. It’s me.

Next on the calendar was the actual ‘Meet the Tutor’ night, in which we sat around enjoying more snacks, sidestepping the responsibility of being Parent Rep and trying to think of incisive questions to ask our child’s tutor. But seeing as the kids had only been in school for four weeks we were kind of stumped. My EO’s very organized and enthusiastic. Her only issue has been the fact that her bus gets her to school very early, which we’ve solved by packing extra snacks (yogurt drinks!) for a sort of second breakfast. I thought I should have mentioned this to her tutor as a shining example of our adaptability, resourcefulness and affinity for healthy snacks, but quickly realized: I’m reaching here!

I have plenty of friends who are teachers, and I’ve heard that, more often than not, the kids they teach are great. It’s the parents who are the bears to deal with. So I’m wondering, and please don’t take this personally or anything but: are you trying to make us helicopter parents?

We receive weekly bulletins plus additional emails on specific topics or invitations to interactive talks like ‘Approaches to Learning Global Humanities for Years 7, 8, 9’. We’re invited to check the school website daily for an up-to-date briefing (I’m waiting for that link to Jolie’s Louis Vuitton blog btw). We’re welcome at swim galas and cross country meets and netball games. And we’ve got upcoming teacher conferences and monthly parent forums and seminars, where no doubt we’ll discover even more ways to obsess about our child’s progress and to help them learn in context. Go ahead, ask me what I know about Computer Based Adaptive Online testing, I dare ya!

Whew! Sweetheart, I love you, my child loves you, but frankly, you’re exhausting and if I can say so, kind of needy, kind of Sally Field here. If we’re going to have any future with this relationship, we’re going to need a little space. You should know that I’m part of a generation borne to parents with a high divorce rate, who couldn’t commit to much more than Friday night football and the Spring talent show. Trust me when I say I’m not going to get offended if I don’t hear from you in a while.

I appreciate you letting me speak freely here. I feel like I’m being completely insensitive, when in fact I really trust you and I do want this to work out! But I think I should also come clean and admit that I’ve come under the influence of a New York Times op-ed called “Super Person” about the rise of the over-overachievers and how we’re all sacrificing our children’s souls and our own identities as moms for the sake of Harvard admission. After spending time with this article, I’ve started having visions of destroying my daughter’s laptop, moving us all to Maine and teaching my children carpentry.

That would certainly inform their learning.

*This blog and the contents therein do not constitute any endorsement or overt (or covert) support of Angelina Jolie, Louis Vuitton and/or Johnny Depp’s dubious haircut in The Tourist.

Old Boyfriends & New Loves

The LA Times profile promised a return to alternative goodness – not quite greatness and glory but something worthy of $11.99 on iTunes. Jane’s Addiction were back. Perry, Dave and Stephen joined by bass player, Chris Chaney, with some crucial help in the studio from Dave Sitek of TV On The Radio.

Perry talked of an urgency, of not wasting any more time in order to “define who we are, the music that we make, the show that we produce. If we do that, we’ll set ourselves up to be where we always belonged in the world of music.”

But it’s been eight years since the band’s lackluster album, Strays, and twenty years since their original ‘farewell’ tour. Plenty of alternative rockers have appeared on the scene: bluesy, grungy, political, glam, some channeling Johnny Rotten, some looking to Iggy Pop for inspiration. What could I expect from JA now? I enjoyed the big chorus of the first single, ‘Irresistible Force’ but how would the rest of the album hold out? Have I outgrown them? Perry’s a family man now, and Dave, well, his flirtations with The Red Hot Chili Peppers, porn stars and reality TV just seemed so tawdry, so Kardashian. Do I really need them anymore? And more importantly, how would these old boyfriends compare to my new loves, The Black Keys?

In the late 80s and early 90s, Jane’s Addiction claimed the angry, reckless parts of my heart. They were metal with an edge, best played loud and in the dark. The band members weren’t just posers but real damaged goods. They told of back`stories lurid and heartbreaking, and they made music that seethed with anger, beauty and power. Dave Navarro played some of the finest guitar of the last 25 years (I kid you not – check out ‘Ocean Size’ or ‘Mountain Song’) and Eric Avery’s bass was relentless.

Harder than we look. Photo courtesy of citypages.com

They appealed to us suburban college kids who couldn’t fathom sleeping rough in a park or hustling to buy some food. When a skinny, half-naked Perry Farrell danced in front of us on the Ritual de lo Habitual tour, we entered in to his trance and flirted with his drug-fueled, candlelit freak-out. He sang ‘Nothing’s Shocking’ but actually, for us, he and his world kinda were.

But now he sings that “we’re all hustlers” (on the first single, ‘Underground’), and I wonder if he’s saying he’s not so special anymore. I suppose in the age of 24-7 reality, threesomes and needle marks aren’t such a big deal, so yeah, he’s probably right. We’re all tainted. Nothing’s truly shocking…

Which I think renders Jane’s Addiction’s music that little bit less relevant, less potent than it used to be. The soaring choruses, thick drums and hard and beautiful guitar lines are still there, and I do enjoy the album. It’s smooth and well-crafted. It’s pretty, is what it is. It’s just not as powerful or as angry as I hoped it’d be. Yeah, kind of like meeting that old boyfriend who’s balding and a little paunchy now, but comfortable in a khaki’s-and-polo-shirt kind of way.

What’s ironic is that The Black Keys look like khaki and polo shirt wearing guys but make music that sweats Robert Plant’s sex appeal and drives you on to the dance floor with the super force of guitars and drums. Outside the roadhouse, Otis Redding met Frank Black and when they jammed, El Camino was born.

I know it’s clichéd but The Black Keys sound both retro and brand new. El Camino only came out earlier this month but it’s quickly showed up on plenty of Best of 2011 lists. It really is a great, driving rock record. All guitars, all heartbreak, all the time. When the opening notes of ‘Gold On The Ceiling’ roll out and then the drums, bass and handclaps kick in, you feel yourself churning and spinning in a blender of five decades of Detroit rock and soul (though The Black Keys are really from Akron, OH). My YO sings along in the car while EO complains about our weird taste in music. (For a great live version of ‘Gold…’ go to their recent appearance on Colbert Nation.

With the help of producer, de facto third band member and all-around 2011 MVP, Danger Mouse, The Black Keys push their sound in to some surprising territory. ‘Little Black Submarines’ begins with an acoustic guitar and Dan Auerbach’s vocals but then explodes in to a mushroom cloud of Patrick Carney’s drums and an electric guitar solo that would make Rik Emmett proud. It’s a taste of heavy metal with mo’ groove, no spandex.

So how do I compare the two? The once wild and woolly Jane’s Addiction sounds slightly neutered now, while the mild-mannered Black Keys attract me with their explosive, gutsy rock. I think I could grow old with these guys…

Take it to 11!

Did you know that today – 11/11/11 – is Nigel Tufnel Day? What? Who? He has nothing to do with Remembrance (poppy) Day. Nigel’s the guitarist in Spinal Tap who had special amplifiers that go up to 11:

In honor of this unofficial holiday, NPR music put together a list of the songs they enjoy cranking up to 11. It’s a mix of punk and alternative (Smiths, LCD Soundsystem, Ramones), funk (Outkast), some surprising pop (Kelly Clarkson) and of course heavy metal (Led Zep).

So of course that gave me a great excuse to compile my own Best Heard Loud list. I’ve gone back to some ’80s metal and ’90s grunge favorites as well as a few alternative and funk choices. Who knew Stevie Wonder would sound so good after Tesla? And I put Sleater-Kinney right before Scorpions, because I can! Soundgarden and Wolfmother are our de facto Led Zeps, and the Pearl Jam tune is not classic PJ from something awesome from the last five years. The closing Radiohead tune is included because the chorus, when played loud, lifts you right up in to Pink Floyd land. It’s huge and it’s gorgeous.

Here’s the list, to be played in order. I welcome any and all comments and contributions, the heavier the better!

1. Powderfinger, “Waiting for the Sun”
2. Jane’s Addiction, “Had A Dad”
3. Wolfmother, “New Moon Rising”
4. The White Stripes, “Fell In Love With A Girl”
5. Van Halen, “Unchained”
6. Tesla, “Modern Day Cowboy”
7. Stevie Wonder, “I Was Made To Love Her”
8. Sleater-Kinney, “Rollercoaster”
9. Scorpions, “No One Like You”
10. Pearl Jam, “World Wide Suicide”
11. Gnarls Barkley, “Run (I’m A Natural Disaster)”
12. The Pretenders, “Precious”
13. Queensryche, “Walk In The Shadows”
14. Soundgarden, “Hands All Over”
15. Radiohead, “Lucky”

I leave you with Wolfmother’s “New Moon Rising” – crank it to 11:

The Naked and (Should Be) Famous

Their debut album is called "Passive Me Aggressive You"

I wanted to go with a sports theme this week at therockmom, and link baseball’s World Series with a discussion of some of my favorite Dallas-area bands past and present (Old ‘97s, The Buck Pets, Erykah Badu, Kelly Clarkson). But since the Texas Rangers blew it big time, and since I don’t know any decent bands from St. Louis (anyone, anyone?), I’ll turn my attention to those other current World Champions – the New Zealand All Blacks, who recently won the Rugby World Cup.

I won’t say much about the All Blacks as such (my Australian husband wouldn’t take too kindly to any gushing), other than I missed watching Dan (sigh) Carter play once he got injured. What I will do is chat a bit about my current favorite Kiwi band – The Naked and Famous.

Most of the time when you hear ‘New Zealand’ and ‘pop music’ you can’t think of much beyond Crowded House and that guy who sang “How Bizarre”. That’s why The Naked and Famous are so refreshing; they don’t wear their Kiwi-ness on their sleeves. I love, love, love Neil Finn but with him you know you’re always going to get sturdy pop, nature images and the odd Maori phrases in the mix. Like a Peter Jackson musical but taller and without the pointy ears.

The other All Blacks

The Naked and Famous are hard to categorize – pop with an alternative streak, hard at times, somewhat dance-able and pretty darn cool. Thom Powers and Alisa Xayalith, who met at an Auckland music school, lead the quintet. They cite Massive Attack, Bjork, PJ Harvey and Tricky as influences, and you can feel a shiver of that techno tension on tracks like “Frayed” and “The Ends”. They’ve been compared to MGMT, but I hear a lot more of the Yeah Yeah Yeahs in their sound. On punky songs like “Punching in a Dream” and “Young Blood” – both released as singles – Ms Xayalith sounds eerily like Karen O’s southern hemisphere cousin.

“The Sun” certainly ranks in my top five singles of 2011 so far. To get the full effect of this mesmerizing song, start with the previous track – a solo piano piece called “The Source” – which segues in to the insidious, hypnotic beat of “The Sun”. The layers of beats and vocals build and swirl as Ms Xayalith breathes a litany of regret, memory loss and bad behaviour. It’s a perfect late-night, neon-lit, head-spinning track. You can check out the video here, but be warned that, like the band’s name, it does contain nudity. For gratuitous Kiwi boobies, press play.

They’re a young band and sometimes it shows in their ‘moody girl writes bad poetry’ lyrics – “Jilted Lovers” is a particularly ponderous example. I’m hoping the combination of travel and more exposure will infuse their writing with a bit more depth and courage. They’re on tour in Europe right now, making some inroads in the States, but completely under the radar here in Asia.

Fortunately, for those of us living in pop music backwaters, we have plenty of ways to explore new music. Start with The Naked and Famous official website, where you can watch/listen to not one, not two but SEVEN of their music videos plus a short ‘in the studio’ vid. They’re also a BBC Sound of 2011 Artist – find that here.

Happy Listening!

I’m now rooting for the Houston Texans to make the Super Bowl.