Before There Was Adele…

There was Alf.

No, not this Alf:


How was I not afraid of Alf, but extremely terrified of Gizmo from “Gremlins”?

This one —


Alison Moyet

better known as Alison Moyet.

And in my opinion, she does it better.

No disrespect to Adele, but I honestly believe there would be no Adele if there was no Alison Moyet.

I knew about Moyet’s group with Vince Clarke  (member of the early incarnation of Depeche Mode), Yazoo (or Yaz, as they were known in the States), way before Adele was put on the map. They also existed before she was even considered a fetus. And the more I listened to their music, as well as her solo work (“Invisible” is the penultimate New Wave ballad <———– click ‘n listen) the more confused I was as to why she is not more well known. I’d be terribly surprised if Ms. Adkins did not cite her as an influence. Everything about them is too similar. I like to give credit where credit is due, and I don’t think Moyet gets the respect that she deserves.

She’s just released a new album this past month titled “the minutes” — and the single “When I Was Your Girl” is the first single she’s released in nearly six years. Do yourself a favor and check it out. She sounds just as good and is just as rich — evolving how a singer should.

Tonight’s Saturday Night Safety Dance selection features a double shot of Yazoo. “Don’t Go”, which is the very first song I heard by the duo:

And secondly, my favorite by them “State Farm”


Sammy Bananas!

Have you missed a good rant?

Well, I hope that I can be of service this evening.

So, let me just start out by saying that I can’t stand Justin Timberfakelake.

No, I’m not a hater — I think he’s overrated, and he’s also whatever is beyond a massive tool. Yes, this is from personal experience. When I was a fan. That changed after the second time that I met him (I gave him a pass the first time…).

I guess I’m one of the few red blooded women in this ENTIRE UNIVERSE that doesn’t think he shits bars of golden bullion. And I will be the first one to shout my disdain for this individual from the highest mountain tops and the deepest, most cavernous valleys (you know, for the powerful echo. Reverb is my friend). And when I found out that he’s worked with some of my favorite artists (Duran Duran, Snoop Dogg, Charlie Sexton — yes, I will even throw in The Lonely Island and Jimmy Fallon) — a little piece of my soul crumbled. Each time. Don’t get me started on his atrocious — I don’t even want to call it acting, because it’s not — should I refer to it has his constant struggle to memorize lines and “be dramatic”? (Oh, I will have a post dedicated to that little philosophy rather soon…).

He sounds like a toddler that has overdosed helium (No amount of facial hair is going to convince me that he went through puberty). Baby voices on grown men are not cute. The only person that can get away with that past 50 is El Debarge or…well, that’s about it. It is my opinion that there are several talented young artists that have more depth as a performer and musician than he. And I honestly didn’t think he was that hot while in NSync. I had a crush on him for maybe like 2.5 seconds, because I felt like I was supposed to (the perils of peer pressure) then I didn’t care again. I always thought JC had the true talent of the group…I don’t know what happened to that one.

I digress.  I’ve dedicated too much text to this person. How embarrassing.

With that, I am a fan of Brooklyn bred DJ Sammy Bananas, who I was first introduced to when he opened for one of my favorite dance acts Chromeo at a concert a few years back. He was playing saxophone and spinning on the 1’s and 2’s! How sick is that?

DJ Sammy Bananas

He makes some rather smashing remixes, and this one by Timberlake called “Let The Groove Get In” is pretty sick. So much so that I have it on repeat. If i’m listening to “he who shall not be named” in any kind of repetitious play, that means I like it. A. LOT.

I’m sure if SB wasn’t involved, I wouldn’t give any kind of attention to this…

But I approve. I will give credit where credit is due, and that is, again, only because of SB’s involvement. It just works. And it’s not about him. It’s about the song, which is something that “he who shall not be named” does not do so well.

Without further ado, I present to you this Friday Night Strobe Light’s selection:

Sammy Bananas and The Most Annoying Voice In The World Justin Timberlake “Let The Groove Get In”

And you can check out some more of his remixes HERE.


Now I Think Quite A Lot As I Stare At My Shoes…

Triple shot.

I’m watching “Hot Tub Time Machine” — and I’m pretty sure I may be the only female on Earth that loves this film.

And Billy Zabka’s in it!

BILLY FRICKIN’ ZABKA — the cinematic pinnacle of 1980’s high school teenage terror in films like Just One of the Guys (favorite! – you will see that I use that term quite liberally — I’m a whore for favorites) and The Karate Kid.

I was supposed to be a boy. I guess there are some left over bits of chromosomes? Loose DNA strands mucking about? (I assure you that everything else is normal. I just adopted a bit of the male psyche). The scene that just played featured one of my favorite bands, The English Beat, and the song “Save It For Later.”

There will be a future post dedicated to not only 2-Tone, but to “The (English) Beat”/”General Public”, and others like The Bodysnatchers and The Selecter, but right now I just want to bask in the moment with this band…but not that song. Don’t get me wrong, I love it, but I feel like dancing.

I saw them (sans Rankin Roger, so really, I only just saw Dave Wakeling and some others…) last year. Dave knows how to put on a show. And you can tell that he loves what he does.

“Too Nice To Talk To” The (English) Beat.



Off Yer Mong

Dead Or Alive “In Too Deep (Off Yer Mong Mix)”

Soon, you will come to learn how much I adore the ultimate diva that is Pete Burns.

Despite (I swear to God, I know how to spell and that wordpress keeps changing the text. There is some evil form of Autocorrect on here).  how much he’s butchered his face and is complete crazy cakes, he does have an excellent pop voice and a larger than life personality. In regards to the voice, it’s not displayed much on this song, but on “Brand New Lover” and especially “You Spin Me Round (Like A Record).”

Happy Saturday Night Safety Dance, my friends.


The Uncanny SeX-Men

The timing couldn’t be any better on this.

Only in Jersey

Whilst composing this blog, I stumbled upon this story about a Senior Citizen complex that was not only running drugs, but HOSTING A PROSTITUTION RING. AMONGST THE TENANTS.

That’s just a giant senior citizen orgy.

Crap. Why did I type that? Though I can undo the sentence, I can’t undo the image in my minds eye. So I’m leaving it. Not the image. The sentence.

And yes, you have to suffer, too.

*insert hurling here*

That’s a segue. And so is this.

And it got me thankin’…(that’s ‘thinkin’ but I didn’t want to spell it correctly)… Did those Ladies of the Night (maybe I should call them Ladies of the Evening? Late Afternoon? You know they can’t stay up past 7:30 — no pun intended) bother to dress up for the occasion?  Use street names? Even though they probably knew each other?

Names, names, the magical fruit. The more interesting, the more potential customers. Wanted and unwanted.

Today, I met a woman who was trying to replace her library card.

In order to do such, it is required that your driver’s license, or some other form of valid photo identification, be shown.

This is the fun part: The names.

Her name was Phoenixx.

And she was old (but very sweet).

Like she’s been eligible for Social Security for over a decade old.

Didn’t look like an aging hooker. But hard times can do a body in.

And no, that extra “x” on her ID was not a typo. At least she didn’t look like a Phoenixx. (I really hate typing that extra “X”).

Her last name was comprised of a color and an animal combination.

All I could think of how much it looks and sounds like a name for a pornographic actor (or, if you want to political correct, actress) OR an amoral heroine in a comic book or graphic novel (ya ya, I know Phoenix is already taken with Jean Grey…but the combination on it’s own is just too wild to pass up).

We get a lot of people whose legal names could pass for porn names, or comic book villain/hero names.

Clearly, due to privacy issues, and you know, handling sensitive information (it’s kind of illegal to do…), I can’t reveal the interesting names I’ve come across. So let’s play a game!

(Stone or Metallic Element) First Name + (Human Appendage) Last Name = Lady or Gentleman of the Late Afternoon (Street) Name

(Mythical Animal, repeat the last letter of the animal two times maximum) First Name + (Color + Animal Combination, add an “e” to the end of that animals name) Last Name = Uncanny (Se)X-Men Name

An invitation has been extended to create your name with the aforementioned combinations.

Have fun!

Thanks for the memories, Phoenixx!

Everything is possible with promises…

Ready for your Saturday Night Safety Dance pick?

Too bad, you’re getting it anyway.

Simple Minds

“Promised You A Miracle”

It was only up until a few years ago that I discovered the depth of Simple Minds’ music. And when I heard this song, I was ashamed that I didn’t know this one, as I was only familiar with the obvious — “Don’t You (Forget About Me)”, “Alive and Kicking,” and lastly, “All The Things She Said.” Sadly, many people are barely familiar with the latter two.

If you’ve not grown familiar with more of their music, I encourage you to do such. I actually favor more of their earlier work, specifically “I Travel” (no link, too lazy).

Many critics credit this tune to bolstering Simple Minds into the mainstream, particularly to UK audiences, observing that “Promised…” was an accurate representation of their true sound. Then after this, it was believed that they became too commercial, blaming the more radio friendly pop anthems to loss of their post-punk edge. I understand their observation. I don’t agree, but I understand. From the opening chords alone, and the progression into the track, the song sells itself. It is an odd mix of simplicity and complication. Danceable, yet introspective – both rhythmically and lyrically. And the latter releases were audibly safe. No mistake, the compositions were amazing, and they still punched out great cuts. It is my opinion that they naturally progressed with the changing landscape of music at the time, and managed to adapt successfully, evolving as artists while exploring another way to produce good music. Those tracks are still classics in my heart. However, “Promised You A Miracle”  reverberates with the time of its release, and how willing Kerr & Co. were ready to get down and dirty for the love of music.

This song will always be in a class of its own.




Sing, Blue Silver

Thirty-one years ago, a one of many musical masterpieces was released.

Duran Duran’s Rio.

No, this is not turning into some Duran Duran worship blog, but it is one of the best albums of popular music ever.

In my opinion.

(Even though Seven & the Ragged Tiger probably edges out this one as my favorite of their releases from the 1980’s).

Duran Duran's Rio (1982)

Duran Duran’s “Rio” (1982) Yes, I actually own this record, even though I was born two years, three months, and 19 days following its actual release.

I wasn’t blogging last year, so I’m making up for the 30th anniversary by celebrating the 31st. When I took a listen to it recently, on vinyl, it sounded as fresh as the first time I heard the title track, “Hungry Like the Wolf”, “Lonely In Your Nightmare” and “Save A Prayer” as a child. I remember when my other big sis brought home their first greatest hits album Decade while on holiday from school (I pronounced it as Decayed — because I secretly thought I was kidnapped as a baby from London the cover kind of looked like it was actually decaying. The album art always reminded me of New York, — yes, I’ve been there, as it’s practically my second home — which was, at the time, often referred to as a city that was in decay — due to the crime, the drug epidemic, and the cultural mid-life crisis that that beautiful city was experiencing. The graffiti like graphics are also responsible for formulating that notion in my head. I didn’t associate it as them having been around for ten years. Shut up, I was only 8. And that realization came only last year when I was over 20 something).

Anyway, thanks Big Sis.

I now realize that both of my sisters are responsible for my New Wave appreciation (as well as Hip-Hop and trashy 90’s European club music. Okay, it’s not trashy. I love it. Therefore, it’s not trashy). It was really because they never let me choose the music I wanted to listen to (I was supposedly a “bad child”).

Apparently, that was a punishment.

It didn’t work.

Now they always hate when I listen to it!

You, alright! I learned it by watching you!

Whose being punished now? MUAHAHAHAHAAH (that’s supposed to be an evil laugh, just fyi).

Back to DD, recently, I took a listen to “The Chauffer” — and I never honestly much cared about the song before. However, there is just something about listening to a record, holding the lyric sleeve, and collectively taking in the music that forces you to appreciate it differently. And I personally believe that the audio quality of records are far more intimate, crisp, and extraordinary than that of a compact disc. Discs cleaned up the sound, but records captured the vibration of the instruments to the very core of the successful composition of a song. And that’s what made me appreciate “The Chauffer” more than I did before. I finally understood it and fell in love with its charming enigma, as it felt like I was hearing it for the very first time.

Everyone knows the aforementioned cuts from the album, but my favorite from it is “My Own Way.”

The Night Version. 

Nope. That’s not on the original pressing.

Remember I told you how I’ve become  a fan (though I prefer connoisseur in training) of the remix?

The Night Version is what DD would refer to the alternate versions of their songs. And they are just as amazing as the original cuts. I often like those more than the final release.

This is one of them.

Six and a half minutes of British funk, with a little bit of punk.

Happy FunkyFriday!