It glittered and it gleamed/For the arriving beauty queen

Hi there, blogosphere massive. Hey, you know what? Industry rants just bore me to tears.
However, because I have transition skills something major (i.e., Magic no-look pass to Worthy circa '88, or Tip to Busta on "Scenario" circaaaaa....oh god, when was that? '91?), I should be able to parlay this into a post about the hip-hop music--maybe via a picture, or perhaps a YouTube video. Let's get started.

Siouxsie Sioux is the rant-er this time, as she has recently said some stuff about early punk vs. current punk*--that the movement in the '70s was more open-minded, creative and industrious, and "Now it's all labels and consumerism." Lovely, my dear, but you're getting dangerously close to "No Fucking Way" and/or "Things You Did Not Need to Tell Me" territory.

*this exists?

"I think it’s harder for women now (in music) than it was 30 years ago. When you look at the pressures on women to never age and always look physically perfect, and in a very traditional, Barbie, male-oriented way, you’d think that punk never happened. Punk was very empowering for women. And now it’s all gone back to finding a rich footballer*."

*A professional in a sport called soccer that makes people in exotic lands go freaking bonkers all over town.

Yeah yeah, life's tough when you don't look physically perfect and when you have breasts while existing within the terrible machine that is the music industry.
(Sorry to make light of it, Siouxsie. You're a goddess and worship-worthy and I thank you for ruling for so hard and for so long.)

In order to escape from the unfortunate/sexist reality of industry politics, I turn to my sweet, precious record collection as it always saves the day. "Kiss Them For Me" we're all too young to remember, but c'mon, we've all listened to the '80s hour on the radio at lunchtime so we're all well-versed in this super duper knocker like E-40 would say, a stunning, sparkly slice of sitar goodness and Schooly D '80s-ness on what would otherwise be a boring Friday morning.






Tibetan Freedom Concert in '96, Thurston Moore absolutely killing it to an undeniably high degree on the cover. I stared at this CD overandover in my '90s bedroom in the family home, all '90s poutyfaced, bemoaning the fact that I was not at the show in SF because stupid Mateo didn't tell me about the trip up there until it was too late and I couldn't go. I still carry the pain of that experience around with me to this very day. They say tragedy helps make us stronger though, you know?



Spent some bank, I got a high powered jumbo
Rolled up a wooly and I watched Columbo...