Alright (For Fighting)

01.26.05

Just got home from a New York Knicks game at Madison Square Garden. I'm not normally a fan of spectator sports, but my mom adores basketball (that's my mom and I in the photo), and once a year she gets the most excellent seats as a gift from her clients. As we sat among the many corporate suits yapping about million dollar investment deals, we watched the game (the Knicks lost) and the sparkling Knicks City Dancers (my favorite part, as I have a soft spot for cheerleaders), and listened to a wide array of sports crowd pleasers like "Ice Ice Baby" and "In Da Club." Cheers to whoever selected Phil Collins' "Easy Lover." What a song! And I'm not being sarcastic.

When I went out with some friends a couple nights ago, we got talking about the Smiths, which then led to a conversation about Johnny Marr's group, The The. When the name Matt Johnson (lead member of The The) popped up, I was reminded of a crazy incident that occurred while I was living in London in 1995. Let me preface the story by saying 1) I do not condone violence in any way, shape, or form, 2) I was only 17.

My mom and my brother Alex had come to visit me in London, and we all decided to have dinner at Belgo- a Belgium restaurant famous for its modern steel decor. So the four of us (a friend of mine had also come along) were eating dinner and getting nicely drunk, and Alex and I started acting a bit silly- throwing a few French fries back and forth (not in a blatant food fight kind of way- it was more like harmless child's play). One of the fries accidentally grazed the jacket of the couple sitting at the table next to us (who happened to be Matt Johnson and his partner- but I didn't know this at the time). They completely freaked out- "What the fuck do you think you're doing you idiots? You're gonna pay for my dry cleaning you assholes (fill in more obscenities)." We profusely apologized for our childish behavior and admitted that we were a being silly. But as soon as he heard our (gasp!) American accents, he flipped out even more- "Oh you're American, are you? Well, what the fuck are you doing in our country? You stupid Americans think you can come to our country and act like fools, and.... " (blah blah blah- he went on for awhile). I was speechless, but Alex attacked back with "Yeah, we're from New York you MF and we carry guns (and I can't remember what else he said but it was equally vicious and inappropriate). By this point the entire restaurant had quieted down, and everyone was focusing on our fight. I started cursing at him as well, saying that he was making a ridiculously huge deal out of this minor situation, and that he should calm down. And the moment I said "calm down," he looked me straight in the eye and spit in my face! My only reaction was to lean back in my chair and kick him hard in the shoulder. Then the restaurant manager rushed to the scene and threw us out of the restaurant. They picked the wrong party if you ask me. Afterwards my friend informed us that the guy was Matt Johnson from The The, a band infamous for their anti-American views.

Anyone that flips out over a French fry has got issues.

Sheila

Posted by Sheila at 12:07 AM

marxy

01.10.05

Once a month I get invited to see a "friend's band" play, but I usually decline the invitation knowing full well that "friend's bands" are never good. If your friend is Nina Persson of the Cardigans or a member of the Pixies, then please disregard the above. You are one of the lucky exceptions to the rule. However, great friends usually don't make great music.

That said, I have recently found myself as one of those lucky exceptions to the rule. While I was living in Tokyo, I befriended W. David Marx (Marxy)- freelance writer, graduate student at Keio University- who was spending a whole lotta time in his bedroom making music. Friend? Bedroom music? Fan of the musical Hair? This didn't sound very promising. He sent over a ton of demos, which I tossed aside until his pestering got so severe that I had no choice but to give in and listen.

I heard sunshine-pop drenched in harpsichords and vocal be-bopping, doo-wop straight from 1956, giddy indie-dance with Japanese lyrics, girl/ boy vocals over bouncy piano chords, and 28 seconds of gorgeous psychedelic a cappella. It was thrilling conceptual pop.

The gazillion sounds, styles, and instruments have finally come together into Kyoshu Nostalgia ("kyoshu" means nostalgia in Japanese)- Marxy's debut album released on Beekeeper Records, a new label out of New York City. I would like to give it my highest recommendation.

Have a listen to "We Won't Be Sold."

Order Kyoshu Nostalgia here.

Check out Marxy's official site.

And enjoy.

Sheila

Posted by Sheila at 03:11 PM

Spooky

01.05.05

London was great. I finally got to play darts in a British pub (although I learned the "proper" way to play is to finish with a double- a total impossibility after a few pints). I had a bizarre experience at the Saint Etienne New Year's Bash: As I was standing in line at the bar, this giddy British guy runs up to me saying that he works at HMV and saw me there earlier in the day. Now this would've all been fine had he not proceeded to tell me exactly which sections I visited while in the store- in the correct order! He's like, "First you went to the soul section, then to books, then back to soul, then to rock and pop and finally to the cashier." I wanted to respond with "psycho," but chose "Happy New Year" instead. Five minutes later I run into Magnus (bass player for the Swedish band Melody Club) who I first met in Tokyo. Very strange. He was in London with his adorable girlfriend Freda for the weekend.

Came home with loads of records- most exciting of all was Bessie Banks' "Go Now" on British Red Bird, which friends tell me is quite rare. Also inherited a ton of Dusty Springfield records (thanks Bob). And saw Moulin Rouge for the first time and cried my eyes out. What an emotional and beautiful tribute to love and pop music.

An hour after landing at JFK last night, I found myself on the Lower East Side toasting with my friends Utako (she's in the group Kiiiiiii who you'll read about very shortly) and David- both in town from Tokyo. David just released his debut album under the name Marxy. I wanna talk more about it, but I'll save it for the next diary.

Here's a photo from a nite out with my '60s pop pals- on the far left is Martin who runs a Jack Nitzsche website, his wife Sue (a die-hard Dean Martin fan), and the lovely Mick Patrick- girl group expert and writer. Sam Szczepanski is the woman! Her business is rock n'roll- producing all sorts of compilations and box sets. That's Motown connoisseur Eric, and peeking behind me is Malcolm Baumgart who probably has the most records in the entire world (and works with Mick in the girlpop / soul department). Phil Chapman is a legendary producer with a soft spot for girl groups.

I haven't slept in three days.

Sheila

Posted by Sheila at 03:38 PM