To all of my dear readers in healthy, loving relationships - happy Valentine's Day. Now, fuck off because this post is dedicated to all the single ladies out there! I was originally going to make an anti-Valentine's Day playlist and spent hours listening to lesbian singer-songwriters moan about broken hearts and their impending spinsterhood but it all got a bit depressing. I thought I'd lighten the mood by blasting some Eurotrash and stumbled across a song so accurate in its depiction of modern day romance that I just had to post it. Elin Lanto's "Love Made Me Stupid" speaks the truth. Like for realz. It perfectly captures love's ability to chew you up and spit you out, while still keeping things light and fluffy thanks to its Hi-NRG production and catchy, if devastating, chorus. The Swedish diva has been on my radar since 2008's poptastic "Speak N Spell" and I'm yet to be disappointed. I'd love to get my hands on her debut album ("One") but that fucker is harder to find than Heidi Montag's dignity. Anyway, check out these lyrics:
Love made me stupid Why does it do this? Before I met you everything was just fine And now I am falling apart It's killing my heart Again and again and again
I think Elin and I have been dating the same guys! The film clip is an equally classy affair. How do these Swedish nobodies manage to throw together videos that put most American and English divas to shame? I love the part where she wears a fish bowl on her head and fondles the statue. Now that's what I call art!
You do not understand how much it pains me to write something complementary about Lily Allen. I'd rather listen to Delta Goodrem's entire back catalogue on repeat than say anything nice about this dirty slag! The bitterness and rage that Katy Perry inspires in some gays pretty much describes how I feel about Lily. I hate her music, I hate her disingenuity and I particularly hate those saggy, cow udder breasts she flashes at every available opportunity. She just strikes me as the ultimate 'right place, right time' phenomenon. If Lily didn't have a famous father, I'm sure she'd still be dealing ecstasy in Ibiza right now (which doesn't strike me as such a bad fate, when I think about it) but then we'd never get the surprisingly fantastic "22".
Occasionally you hear a song and think that person gets me. Well, when I first heard "22" I thought Lily Allen had broken into my room and riffled through my diary. In fact, I wouldn't put it past that thieving bitch but there are no lyrics about La Toya - so I'm willing to give her the benefit of the doubt. It's not the first time I've felt like this. Shelley Harland's entire album evokes a similar response from me but sharing thoughts and emotions with Lily Allen? Am I that common? The answer, it seems, is yes. If you changed the gender and played around with the ages a bit this song could have been written about me. "22" perfectly sums up the emotional whirlwind of your late 20s, of feeling like you're not on track and thinking you really should have more to show for your (almost) three decades on planet earth. Oh and there's a catchy beat, whimsical production and a rather cool video (below). I'll put the first two down to Greg Kurstin and the third down to good luck.
Lily, you may have thwarted my hateration for the moment but I'll be back!
When she was 22 the future looked bright But she's nearly 30 now and she's out every night I see that look in her face she's got that look in her eye She's thinking how did I get here and wondering why
It's sad but it's true how society says Her life is already over There's nothing to do and there's nothing to say Til the man of her dreams comes along picks her up and puts her over his shoulder It seems so unlikely in this day and age
She's got an alright job but it's not a career Whenever she thinks about it, it brings her to tears Cause all she wants is aboyfriend She gets one-night stands She's thinking how did I get here I'm doing all that I can
A group of my Spanish friends are flying over to London next week and turned to me for some travel advice. As the world's worst tourist I'm probably the last person they should be asking but I'll do my best. Sightseeing bores the hell out of me and, if I'm totally honest, London generally rubs me the wrong way. That said, I always seem to go back for more so it must have something going for it. The city's appeal has a lot to do with my amazing friends (Mark, Paul & Bobby - I miss you!) but London is not without charm. I'm told it has a lot of pretty buildings and historical landmarks but I've never been very interested in piles of old bricks. You can complete my tour for a tenner and still have enough memories to last a lifetime! Here goes nothing...
1. Breakfast Bliss
No one does breakfast quite like the British. I suggest starting the day with a "butty" (bread roll) filled with sausage, eggs and bacon. From experience this is best consumed with a side dish of baked beans and extra toast. If you want to be fancy, order yourself a nice cup of Earl Grey. The delicious concoction above left my tastebuds screaming for more and cost all of two pounds. Value!
2. Channel Kerry Katona
The single best thing about the United Kingdom is Kerry Katona. Living in London, I became completely obsessed with her drunken television interviews, post plastic surgery nude spreads and signature fragrance, which she exclusively revealed smells "like me, like kebabs". Best of all, however, are Kerry's amazing commercials for Iceland (above) - a budget supermarket specialising in frozen food. One of my favourite pastimes in London was to grab a trolley and stroll the aisles of Iceland in the hope of running into Kerry. It never happened but the dream continues.
3. Be A Hoxton Twat
London is the home of all things cutting edge and cool, so you might as well get a taste while you're there. When in Rome and all that. I'm rather fond of East London but it is home to some of the nation's most pretentious wankers, so head over to Hoxton and do a bit of people watching. Just bring your skinny jeans and pretend to be strung out on heroin if you don't want to be mistaken for a tourist.
4. Walk Around Soho
Get on the tube and head over to Soho. It isn't the gay mecca it once was but it's still fun to wander around. There are a couple of second hand CD stores worth checking out, a bunch of sex shops for sluts (like my Spanish friends) and the former home of GAY nightclub. Lay some flowers in front of the Astoria in tribute for all the times a glamorous Minogue graced the stage. Make sure to pick up a copy of "Boyz" so you can make plans for the evening. Soho is also close to all the major stores - so drop into HMV, Borders or Zavvi for the latest Ladyhawke 7" vinyl.
5. Eat Some Fried Chicken
After all that walking, chances are you'll be famished. One of the most exciting things about London is the seemingly endless choice of fried chicken. When I stayed in the glamorous surrounds of Peckham, I counted 9 different outlets on the one road! I personally survived eating at Morley's, Texas Fried Chicken, CFC, Perfect Chicken and the Chicken Cottage. They all taste like the poor man's KFC so there's no point being choosy.
6. The Tate Modern
If you don't need to spend the next hour on the toilet, use the time to walk around the Tate Modern. I'm not completely immune to culture and the Tate Modern is my favourite gallery in London by far. I love the ugliness of the building and I'm yet to see a boring exhibition there. It's also close to St Paul's and most of the big landmarks, so you can tick a bunch of boring tourist attractions off your list in one fell swoop.
7. Watch Some Trash TV
It's time to return to the hotel for some down time after all that exertion. I've always found an hour or two of trash TV to be the perfect antidote to a busy day and the British are world leaders in the field. I never really got into UK soaps with their light-hearted themes of child abuse and mental illness but reality TV more than makes up for it. "I'm A Celebrity...Get Me Out Of Here", "Celebrity Big Brother" and "X Factor" are all world famous but I suggest checking out "The Underdog Show" (basically a bunch of Z Grade celebrities train dogs) and "Hole In The Wall". I love the horse faced hostess of the former and the latter could well be the most brilliant show ever made. Basically, the lowest "celebrities" on earth play human Tetris. It's genius - check it out above!
8. Eat Dinner
Defrost the frozen banquet you purchased in Iceland. I find paper plates and plastic cutlery perfectly compliment this feast.
9. Buy Bad Drugs In Vauxhall
After downing your delicious meal, it's time to hit the town. Consult your copy of "Boyz" to find a suitable location, which more than likely is located in Vauxhall. The clubs in Vauxhall are great but the real highlight is chatting with the mobile drug dealers that hang around each and every venue. The guys are usually good for a laugh and are generally pretty harmless. Just be aware that you will probably end up snorting crushed aspirin.
10. Experience Kelly Wilde Live
As far as I'm concerned, your London sojourn is completely invalid without witnessing the glorious goddess of Hi-NRG pop - Miss Kelly Wilde. This amazing diva's breathtaking vocals, stunning dance moves and exquisite costumes are the thing of legend. I was lucky enough to see Kelly at two extremely classy gay bars ("The Two Brewers" and "The Black Cap") and both evenings were unforgettable. Check her busy schedule here.
When I first wrote about Las Supremas De Móstoles on this blog, I never dreamed that I would one day get the chance to meet the gorgeous girls in person - but the universe had other plans. I had been given their amazing "Philadelphia Disco Party" CD as a gift (even though my friends now deny it - own up, bitches!) during my first stay in Madrid and spent the next two months listening to their camp Motown cover versions all over Europe. It seemed only fitting to write about them when I briefly re-opened my blog in London. In a strange twist of fate, that post coincided with the now notoriousBoyz magazine interview about my tragic fabulous taste in music and I naturally mentioned Las Supremas. At length. Boyz then sought permission to use the band's picture in the article and before long I was in contact with their record company - with a date to meet the ladies the next time I was in Madrid!
A Supremas Sandwich!
Of all the crazy shit I got up to in Spain, meeting Las Supremas has to be the most surreal. It was the 5th of November. That date is burned into my memory forever. I was picked up by Christina (their lovely assistant) at Colón and we drove to the radio station where the ladies were scheduled to appear. It appears that Las Supremas De Móstoles are not only pop superstars in Spain, they have their own mini media empire - appearing on television and Punto Radio's "Queremos Hablar" with Ana Garcia Lozano. We arrived before them and I was introduced to Ana (a total sweetheart) and told the show's format. Basically, Las Supremas come on the show to chat about celebrity gossip and just be fabulous. They also sing the occasional song and have a running segment in which they make up new words. The time finally came for the ladies to arrive and I was completely starstruck. It's hard to believe but Vicky, Luisi and Susi are even more glamorous in real life! They are also three of the nicest women I've ever met. I spent about an hour with them - smoking cigarettes, flipping through magazines (research for the show) and chatting via Christina (their English isn't great and my Spanish is worse). The best moment was an impromptu sing-a-long before the show. The breathtaking threesome serenaded me with stunning acapella versions of Duffy's "Mercy" and Leona's "Bleeding Love"! I was really blown away by the strength of the voices and pitch perfect harmonies. Luisi then taught me the Spanish words for male genitalia by grabbing my privates. I felt like I had been groped by the hand of god!
"I love you, coño"!
The show itself was a lot of fun. I was invited to watch the proceedings from the studio and Las Supremas talked about their biggest (and probably only) Australian fan and they belted out a sublime version of "Killing Me Softly" in my honour. I was really quite overwhelmed. After the show there were more songs ("Sing A Happy Song" - my favourite from the album) and I had the chance to ask some questions about the future. 2009 looks like a busy year for them. There was talk of a new album, a television show and an attempt to break into the South American market. I tried to persuade them to tour Australia instead but they didn't appear very convinced! Whatever happens, I wish Las Supremas every success. They are unique in the world of pop and I worship the ground they walk on.
In our defence - I was drunk and they were pulling faces!
It's the early hours of the morning and I can't sleep. The journey home from Berlin to Sydney (via Munich, Helsinki and Hong Kong!) took the best part of 3 days due to snow storms and missed connections but all the fatigue I've been feeling from my epic hellride has strangely vanished. I'm not sure if it's the excitement of being back or just the onset of jetlag but I thought I would make the most of this weird burst of energy by updating this dump. There's so much I want to write about: Beyonce finally making a decent album, the sad demise of Central Station (RIP), Ruth's shocking exit from X Factor - not to mention the CD reviews I've started to write for Tina Arena, Jess Mauboy and half a dozen or so other divas. However, the focus of this post isn't an act or an album but a city. Madrid. I've tried to avoid writing about my trip as much as possible because - let's face it - other people's lives are fucking boring. I get it. I'd rather listen to Leona Lewis than read about some arsehole's trashy holiday but my stay in Madrid was so intrinsically linked to this blog and had such a huge impact on my listening habits that it doesn't seem right to re-open it without paying proper tribute. So here goes...
Hanging with the Spanish gays
My first taste of Madrid in July only lasted a couple of days and while I never actually left Chueca (the gay ghetto) or managed to attain full sobriety, I was absolutely hooked - largely due to the fabulous time I had hanging out with Dannii's gay Spanish fans. I promised to return and after several failed attempts, finally made it back in late October. I could write a novel about my Spanish sabbatical, so I'll try to stick to the weekend that irrevocably changed my taste in music. The plan was to reunite with Pablo (Huesca's answer to Perez Hilton), Fernando (Chart bitch extraordinaire) and Tony Tornado (Madrid's infamous cockflasher). Tony invited me to stay with him and his gorgeous boyfriend but I arrived early and decided to kill some time by having a quick drink in a bar. To cut a long story short, I sat there for 5 hours drinking with some really desperate housewives and a Mexican tranny. Amazingly, I still somehow managed to find Tony's apartment and we chatted about important world events (like Kylie's new hairstyle) until we left to meet Fernando for dinner at Root. My first reunion was a bit of a blur due to lack of sleep and one too many G&Ts but I distinctly remember being impressed by Fer's Platinum membership card.
HOT: The sexy guys. Everywhere. NOT: Atoche's toilets. I just wanted to piss.
Some of my Spanish treasures
Friday morning was spent nursing a hangover and CD shopping. I started at FNAC (kind of like the Spanish equivalent of HMV) and spent a small fortune stocking up on classy divas like Soraya, Edurne and er... Gloria Arana. The second hand stores were next on the agenda. I found some old Marta Sanchez CDs and picked up Lorena's craptastic debut for 1 Euro but the real find was finally getting my hands on the Spanish edition of Dannii's "He's The Greatest Dancer". Many thanks to Jay for kindly begging the owner to put it aside for me! By mid-afternoon I was feeling a little parched and decided to get pissed delve into Spanish culture by testing the local beer. It turned out to be good practice for the evening ahead.
HOT: VIPS - like McDonald's, only classier. NOT: Tortilla bocadillos. Egg and potato do NOT belong on a bread roll!
The night kicked off in the innocent surrounds of a comic book store, where Tony and I met up with Fernando and Parker (The Fergie of Elche). It was great to finally meet Parker in the flesh and we broke the ice by talking about Dazzler. We then moved on to a bar in the spiritual heart of Madrid (Chueca) where I got to meet Parker's lovely boyfriend Coque and caught up with Roberto and the demented Body Language. After a few drinks (a recurring theme, I know) we were lost in discussion about all things pop - the genius of Pascal Gabriel, Leona Lewis' personality bypass, the fact that "E=MC²" is a massive improvement on "The Emancipation Of Mimi" and Fergie's undeniable role as the spokeswoman of our generation. After letting slip that I was underwhelmed by Monica Naranjo, Parker was compelled to deliver an amazing lecture on her virtues. For what felt like the next 4 hours. I'm thankful for his dedication because now I can't imagine life without her music on my Ipod. Pablo finally arrived after travelling from Huesca - probably on the back of a donkey - and we were ready to head to the restaurant.
HOT: Mercedes Milla. The best TV hostess EVER! NOT: Pablo's evil campaign to break Girls Aloud in Spain.
You should see him eat a banana
The Mexican restaurant immediately got my seal of approval when I realised they sold margueritas by the litre. Who cares about the food when you can drink out of a bucket? It was great to meet some of Pablo's other friends, particularly the lovely Marta and Madrid's finest DJs - Julian and Antonio. Julian was even kind enough to introduce me to Spain's answer to Bananarama, the fabulous Chicass. After "eating" we headed over to another bar where they played Soraya (twice!) and Kylie's "In My Arms". However, that's nothing in comparison to the music on offer at Polana, which could well be the trashiest nightclub in the world. Well, the second trashiest after Palms. Needless to say, I was in heaven. I begged the DJ to spin some Dannii and I'll never forget getting down to Dannii's Spanish megahit "He's The Greatest Dancer" with Dannii's sexy Spanish fans in Spain. Bliss. Other highlights from the night include Pablo getting with a guy dressed as Jack Skellington from "The Nightmare Before Christmas" (it was Halloween), Fernando stealing someone's cape (!) and Antonio unveiling the 7th wonder of the world - Madrid's amazing mussy.
HOT: Antonio's mussy. NOT: Going home with the owner of the smallest cock in Madrid.
Madrid's holy mussy
I can't remember doing anything on Saturday apart from drinking lots of water but I was more than happy to do it all over again come nightfall. The group managed to expand even further and it was great to see the two Dans and Paco again. After finishing our Chinese feast we went to hear Julian and Antonio play a set. Julian's selection of 80s classics was an absolute treat (Kylie's "Hand On Your Heart" and "Turn It Into Love", not to mention Spagna's "Call Me"!), while Antonio momentarily invoked my wrath by playing Girls Aloud. I would have vomited but I didn't want to waste my alcohol. We then moved on to Elastica, a club that slightly reminds me of Arq. While the surrounds were considerably more chic than Polana, the music was just as trashy. They played Aqua and Paris Hilton! Highlights from the night include the music cutting out every 5 minutes, Parker and Coque's raunchy dancefloor antics and the DJ singing over every track in a heavy Spanish accent. The night ended with an after party at Tony's where we watched "Body Language Live" and Paola & Chiara's Greatest Hits DVD. A perfect end to a fantastic weekend.
HOT: Ordering San Gria with Chinese food. NOT: Soraya's concert debacle.
Like "Skins" only better - the best TV show ever!
So what else did I get up to in Madrid? Well, after all the recommendations I received, I went absolutely nuts shopping for music. I think I ended up leaving Spain with 50+ CDs! I also had the chance to meet one of my favourite pop acts in the whole, wide world but that little adventure deserves a post of its own. Apart from that I became hooked on the greatest TV show in history ("Fisica O Quimica") and spent a lot of time in bars and restaurants - just hanging out with friends and meeting people. I'm the first to admit that I'm not a very good tourist. I have no interest in churches, museums, castles or any of that Lonely Planet crap. If I want to look at a decaying monstrosity, I'll just google Madonna. That said, I did actually leave Chueca this time around and what I saw of the city was absolutely enchanting. However, when I think of the Madrid, it wont be the Prado or El Retiro that come to mind but the food, the incredible pop music and most of all the warm and wonderful people. I can't wait to go back.
Fisica O Quimica - featuring my future husband Miguel in the shower and a woman pissing
Sorry for another huge delay. I got caught up in Spain's fabulousness and stayed a lot longer than I initially thought. Unfortunately posts won't resume as normal for at least another week because I'm finally going home! I stepped off the plane into the English winter and made a spur of the moment decision to fly back to Sydney - at the very least until the end of the Australian summer. I can't wait to see my friends and family, not hear Girls Aloud on the radio, be reunited with my dog and eat vegetables that have a discernible taste. It's also pure coincidence that my return coincides with Kylie's Australian tour! See you all very soon.
I've escaped London for a few days of Spanish fabulousness. Posts will resume soon with a recap of my trashy adventures - if I can bring myself to leave this gorgeous country!
PS. Thanks for all the e-mails and texts updating me on "X Factor". I'm glad to see buxom Ruth make it through another week with her stunning rendition of "Enough Is Enough" (above). This sexy señorita's magnificent rack is Spain's greatest export since paella!
Ok that sounds a bit wrong but I do indeed grace the latest edition of London's incredibly glamorous "Boyz" magazine - right between the sex classifieds and an advertisement for STDs! I'm never going to live this down but I do take a certain delight in bringing La Toya, Millie Jackson, Ethel Merman and Las Supremas to the pages of such a classy publication. Anyway, I'm off now to hide under a rock.
Welcome to the new and unimproved Pop Trash Addicts - direct from London! As you can tell not much has changed around here except my location. The tacky colour scheme remains the same and I'm still obsessed with the trashy underbelly of pop music. I'm not sure how long I'll be sticking around the UK but while I'm here and have internet access, I thought I might as well get back into blogging. As a wise woman (well, Dannii) once said, it's hard to break a habit! There's so much I want to write out - the Minogue duet, the drama of X Factor and the suitcase full of tragic CDs I've managed to acquire on my travels - but all that will have to wait. Today's post is dedicated to a pop trash icon who rocked my world to its very foundations on Friday night. I'm referring, of course, to the gorgeous and stunningly talented Kelly Wilde!
It's been a dream of mine to see Kelly in the flesh since stumbling across her infamous rendition of Blondie's "Maria" at Gran Canaria Pride on youtube but even that breathtaking performance couldn't prepare me for the sheer fabulousness of this divine diva. With stage presence to rival Kylie and choreography that would put Madonna to shame, Kelly held the packed crowd at The 2 Brewers (affectionately known as The 2 Sewers) in the palm of her beautiful hand from the very first song - which just happened to be a Hi-NRG Amy Winehouse cover!
After throwing her army of fans into a frenzy with "Valerie", Kelly delighted the audience further by talking about her Australian roots and making two hot guys kiss. By the second song I was so completely under the spell of this amazing goddess that I pushed my way to the front and began screaming hysterically. Even the unfortunate selection of Madonna's shiteous "Give It To Me" as the second track wasn't enough to dampen my enthusiasm. At one stage I got so close that Kelly put her hand in front of my camera and said "too close"! It's that kind of amusing audience interaction that sets Kelly apart from her peers. If she's not pairing up her fabulous gay fans, she's making quips about forgetting the lyrics to September's "Cry For You" (her next brilliant cover) and dragging people up on stage to dance with her.
Just when I thought the evening couldn't possibly get any more camp, Kelly delivered a stunning cover of "Gloria" and a medley of ABBA hits before finishing off the show with her signature tune - Blondie's "Maria". Words can not adequately describe the brilliance of this fabulous diva's version. The throbbing beats combined with Kelly's soaring vocals and stage acrobatics was truly a wonder to behold. Despite the show coming to an end, the evening was to hold one more completely unexpected delight. On her way off stage Kelly extended her gorgeous hand towards me, which I promptly kissed! A magical climax to a memorable evening. Make sure you check out Kelly's website (click on "Diary") for her next gig - this is one diva you can't afford to miss!
This will be my last post for a while. I'm going to follow in the glorious footsteps of Holidannii and head for the nearest beach/Ibiza stripclub. My original plan was to visit some friends in Europe for a couple of weeks but I've decided to extend my stay for at least three months, possibly longer. I can't wait to escape winter and catch as many trashy pop gigs as I can. I've already organised tickets for Kylie and Australia's other greatest living export - Kelly Wilde! I'll miss writing the blog but I will definitely be back and hopefully I'll have a suitcase full of Euro delights to share. I'd like to thank everyone for visiting this dive over the past year and half. Your comments and e-mails have been greatly appreciated. Please stay in touch!
A few months ago I had a conversation with my good friend (and famed Church Of La Toya creator) Jamie about starting a new blog together. The idea didn't really go anywhere until we were rudely thrown out of our favourite La Toya forum for posting erotic fan fiction and decided we would make our own damn website! Somewhere along the way Jamie convinced me to expand on idea behind this blog and after months of swapped e-mails, MSN conversations and our fair share diva tantrums - it's finally fit for public display!
I plan to continue with this blog as normal. The new site is just more of the same - only with extra tragic flavour courtesy of Jamie! I can take or leave the main page (sorry Jamie!) but I'm very proud of our A-Z diva gallery. I'm quite sure it's the only site on the internet to showcase the talents of Bionda, Liza Minnelli, Dannii, Nicki French, Brielle Davis, Robyn, La Toya, Millie Jackson, Melinda Jackson and Deni Hines (among others)!
Other features include our banned La Toya fan fiction, reviews and an overview of upcoming releases. We've even managed to twist Deirdre Halliwell's arm to be our resident agony aunt! I'm also pretty excited about our forum. We're not trying to be Pop Justice or Togerland. I'll be very happy if we can bring together 10 trash loving fans for cosy conversations about our favourite budget divas. Please feel free to register and say hello!
Neither Jamie or I are particularly good with computers and it shows. The site looks pretty cheap but I think it suits the low class divas we're showcasing! Please keep in mind that this is very much a work in progress. I really hope you like it!
After witnessing Christina Aguilera's craptacular "Back To Basics" show less than a week ago, I found it difficult to muster a lot of enthusiasm for Gwen Stefani's "Sweet Escape" concert last night. I love Gwen but I secretly feared the worst. I had scary visions of Gwen rapping to shitty hip hop music floating around my head, fears that were only reinforced by the choice of Gym Class Heroes as the support act. However, as the lights went down and Gwen emerged from a golden cage looking like a genetically engineered doll, I knew that I was about to witness something special. "The Sweet Escape" tour has everything the "Back To Basics" experience lacked. It's professional, engaging and hugely entertaining.
Acer Arena is a complete dump. Apart from being located in the arsehole of Sydney, it's poorly designed and uglier than Amy Winehouse. It's only saving grace is the liquor lounge, which I'm probably becoming a little bit too familiar with. After downing enough alcohol to power a car, my friend and I ventured into the arena to catch the end of Gym Class Heroes' set. I must have been really tanked because I thought they were fairly amusing and rather enjoyed their craptastic hatchet job on Jermaine Stewart's "We Don't Have To Take Our Clothes Off". It wasn't long before two Harajuku girls dressed as prisoners ran through the stadium and Gwen emerged from her golden cage to sing a fabulous rendition of "The Sweet Escape". The set, costumes and sound quality were all excellent but the most impressive aspect of the opening act was Gwen's stage presence. I found it difficult to take my eyes off her. Gwen exudes star quality like few other modern divas.
Unlike Christina, who thought it best to concentrate on obscure album tracks, "The Sweet Escape" setlist played like a greatest hits compilation. After a quick costume change, Gwen upped the camp ante by playing a cat burglar for her delightful rendition of "Rich Girl". Gwen took some time out to chat with the audience and instantly connected with her sincerity and humility. She could have just been pretending - but if her "acting" in "The Aviator" is any indication, I have a feeling that she was genuinely ecstatic to be there. The hits continued to flow with "4 In The Morning" and "Luxurious". You know that a performer is doing a good job when they give you a new appreciation for songs you previously disliked. I used to hate "Luxurious" but I've been humming the damn thing all day. One of the night's most amusing moments was Gwen's winning performance of "Wind It Up", complete with a mobile hill and glowing sheep!
About half way through the show there was a distinct shift in format. The first part was a highly stylised and well coordinated spectacle, while the second half reverted to a more traditional rock concert. The glamorous costumes were still on display, as were the omnipresent Harajuku girls, but the show now revolved around a singer performing with her band. The sets disappeared, allowing Gwen to prowl the stage like a panther - in fabulous heels, of course! Show stopping versions of "Early Winter" and "Danger Zone" sat well beside a lovely interpretation of "Wonderful Life". This was followed by one of the most unexpected and sweet gestures I've witnessed in a major concert. Gwen climbed off the stage and ran into the middle of the crowd to sing "Cool". By the end of the song she had climbed halfway up the arena and had the entire audience in the palm of her hand.
The show came to a close with a sentimental performance of "Orange County Girl" and a lengthy introduction to her dancers and amazing band. I was particularly delighted that my favourite Gwen Stefani song, "The Real Thing", was included in the encore. Gwen dedicated the song to her son and transformed it into a gorgeous ballad. "What You Waiting For" then concluded the show in fabulous style. "The Sweet Escape" is not a groundbreaking tour but it is a hugely endearing show. Gwen gives her fans what they want, while staying true to her own unique aesthetic. I can't wait for her next visit.
I'd rather be fingered by Edward Scissorhands than sit through Christina Aguilera's "Back To Basics" tour ever again. Last night's show at Sydney's Acer Arena was one of the most dismal concerts I have even seen. Cheap sets, poor sound quality, bad costumes and a pregnant diva in hotpants are just some of the reasons why "Back To Basics" is a 90 minute musical trainwreck.
Christina is not my favourite singer but I prefer her to most of the current batch of mainstream divas. If nothing else, Christina has a great voice and has developed into an interesting pop star. "Back To Basics" (the album) is an intriguing experiment and I respect her for having the guts to gamble on such a different sound - even if she doesn't quite pull it off. I was looking forward to see how Christina would blend her old material in with her new sound but found myself swiftly losing interest when she finally arrived on stage two hours late.
After such a long delay, the anticipation was palpable. However, instead of making an entrance, Christina doesn't even appear on stage for the first number. Instead a film clip - largely derivative of Madonna's "Express Yourself" - played on a large screen before the dirrty one waddled down a moving staircase wearing white hotpants and more make-up than an army of drag queens. I'm sure the outfit would have been rather flattering if Christina wasn't heavily up the duff with a very noticeable baby bump. Then there was her skin. I'm convinced Christina has raided Kelly Llorenna's lifetime supply of fake tan and used it all at once because I have never before seen a human being look so orange. Christina might have looked like trailer trash on Halloween but the opening song, a rousing rendition of "Ain't No Other Man" was fantastic. Unfortunately, everything went downhill from there.
"Ain't No Other Man" was followed by a series of dreary songs from "Back To Basics", which perhaps 10 percent of the crowd were familiar with. To make matters worse there were no sets or props - just 8 dancers on a massive, empty stage. Which became increasingly barren due to Christina's habit of disappearing after every song to spray on more bronzer and to change into new hotpants. Any sense of continuity was destroyed by her long absences and poor choice of material. When Christina did get around to singing one of her old songs, she ruined the moment by giving it a jazzy makeover. I had no idea she was even singing "Come On Over" until the final chorus.
One of evening's few bright moments occurred when Christina appeared on the back of carousel horse singing "Dirrty". It was the only time I saw people standing up until the final encore. Things continued to spiral downwards when Christina finally decided to talk to the audience - and gave a 5 minute lecture on domestic violence. For added effect, a black and white film clip of a woman being violently assaulted was played during Christina's "inspirational talk". Less than 15 minutes later, Xtina had a rest and played another clip - this time of her rolling around semi-naked, spreading her legs. I'm glad the thousands of 10 year old girls in the audience have such a quality role model! By this stage not even a surprisingly extravagant circus segment or a delicious interpretation of "Candyman" could save this sinking ship. The vast majority of the crowd had simply lost interest. Luckily, Christina had filmed some fan testimonials to play in the background. I almost lost lost my dinner when one desperate individual cooed that Christina "makes me feel alive each and every day". I mean, really!
The concert ended with great performances of "Beautiful" and "Fighter" but a competent encore does not make up for the dirge that went before it. The concert stumbled from one disaster to the next. Christina has as much charisma as a floating turd and the staging was less elaborate that Dannii's gay nightclub tour. I know that Christina has a fantastic voice but it was impossible to tell with the poor sound system and her shrill screaming. "Back To Basics" is a desperate new low for live entertainment.
I am living in relatively close proximity to greatness! I have been completely flustered since reading yesterday's local newspaper. Imagine my surprise when I stumbled across an article about Deni Hines tucked away between riveting exposes on council elections and school fundraisers. Picture my jaw dropping to the floor after reading the first five words - "Manly Vale singer Deni Hines"! All this time I have been living less than 15 minutes away from a national treasure and was completely oblivious! I'm terrified that I've walked past Deni without falling at her feet and declaring "Frenzy" the best song ever! Maybe I'll get the chance tomorrow night. As the article explains, Deni is performing a show for the bargain price of $20. I can't wait!
The article is pretty revealing. I think it's very brave of Deni to pour her earnings from "Dusty" into her own label. I guess that explains why there have been so many singles lifted from the album without a solitary hit. Good for her! I crowned "Water For Chocolate" my favourite album of 2006 and I stand by it. The album is a stunning achievement and deserves to be heard by everyone. I just hope it doesn't result in Deni becoming homeless in the not too distant future. If Marcia won't take her in, there's always room in my flat for the odd trashtastic diva! My favourite part of the interview is Deni stating that she's massive in Japan and could fill the Tokyo Dome. I'm not quite sure about that but I thought I would provide some evidence of Deni's Japanese stardom in the form of her Japan only single "Dream Your Dream", which is now quite rare. The song itself is a sweet and gentle anthem about doing your best and all of that uplifting crap. It's lovely!
Remember to purchase your copy of "Water For Chocolate" from Sanity, Chaos or iTunes. See you all at The Deni's concert extravaganza!
To all of my dear readers in healthy, loving relationships - happy Valentine's Day. Now, fuck off because this post is dedicated to all the single ladies out there! I was originally going to make an anti-Valentine's Day playlist and spent hours listening to lesbian singer-songwriters moan about broken hearts and their impending spinsterhood but it all got a bit depressing. I thought I'd lighten the mood by blasting some Eurotrash and stumbled across a song so accurate in its depiction of modern day romance that I just had to post it. Elin Lanto's "Love Made Me Stupid" speaks the truth. Like for realz. It perfectly captures love's ability to chew you up and spit you out, while still keeping things light and fluffy thanks to its Hi-NRG production and catchy, if devastating, chorus. The Swedish diva has been on my radar since 2008's poptastic "Speak N Spell" and I'm yet to be disappointed. I'd love to get my hands on her debut album ("One") but that fucker is harder to find than Heidi Montag's dignity. Anyway, check out these lyrics:
