Monday, February 28, 2005
Whether it's the various interior photographs of a semi-nude Lunch – who walks the walk when it comes to involving herself in her own sexually-charged work – downing a fifth of whiskey, wielding a pistol or sprawled across a bullet-ridden bed, or her seductive lyrics about dime-store Johns falling prey to femme fatales they abuse more than alcohol, Smoke in the Shadows is a Lynchian fever dream at times more jarring than Mulholland Drive or Blue Velvet. The fact that it's wrapped in such an addictive electro-jazz cloak is just icing on the film noir cake.
-- See the rest of this alternet interview with Lydia Lunch about her about her new release Smoke in the Shadows described as "hard-boiled electronica."
"I just wanted to do a record that sucked you in quietly – and then slit your fucking throat," said Ms. Lunch.
Elswehere Lunch says she does most of her work in Europe because the United States is just too uptight.
"One of my lines in In Our Time of Dying argued that things were better when we had blow jobs in the White House. A president with a blow job is a happy man. Now we have a man in the White House who wants to butt-fuck the entire planet. It's obvious as hell." -- Lydia Lunch.
Wednesday, February 23, 2005
Amesty International suggests life may have actually gotten worse for Iraqi women since Hussein was ousted.
Thursday, February 17, 2005
It seems everyone is going to NYC to see The Gates. I can't leave town this weekend or next so I started a poem about it.
I didn't see The Gates in Central Park. Their supposed saffron orange silks fighting pleated structure to flutter in the breeze that I can only imagine.
