Showing posts with label Lady Gaga. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Lady Gaga. Show all posts

Wednesday, April 7, 2010

on a visual level

Shabam -- it has been decided: I am going to make music videos for a living.  All the crazed hype about Gaga's "Telephone" clip inspired me.  Music videos have lost (or never had?) their well-deserved reverence and it's time that their potential be appreciated.  MVs don't have to merely accompany a song; they can tell the lyrics' story on a whole new visual level - and that's cool.

Over Easter weekend I trained down to the South of France, where I told my family of my professional career's new destiny.  One of my cousins guided me toward the unofficial video for Soko's giggle-tastic "I'll Kill Her."  Soko, or Stéphanie Sokolinsk, is a french singer slash actress brought to fame via the internet with this lightly angry anthem with a humoristic twist.  She sings the lyrics as if she was reciting them on the front step of her lover's place.  As the song plays out, you can imagine "the other woman" peeking from behind his shoulder, beach-blonde hair in tow.  You can't help but fall in love with the songstress as her soft voice and adorable french accent cushion the murderous refrain line.

The black and white of the fan-made [Joerg Barton] music video of the track is fabulous.  



I can't wait to be living the dream.

Thursday, March 11, 2010

Emily from Yorkshire in the north of England

And I'm back.

The past 10 days have been a whirlwind of languages, currencies, and customs.  I will recount my adventures chunk by chunk -- a city per day -- in hope of not overwhelming the senses.

So, to begin: London.

The trip to the British capital didn't go without a few flukes :: we missed our first train (but didn't have to pay for the replacement, merci to the nice eurostar agent); we had a little trouble getting our lone American past strict British passport control; and my sleepyness decided to walk through security without putting my purse on the x-ray machine, instead keeping it on my shoulder {which kind of screams "I have a big bomb in here} but thankfully the guard just giggled at my obvious mistake and gave me a smile instead of a body slam.

However, once we got to the land of the Queen, everything went swimmingly.  I fell in love with this city.  The architecture is a mismatch of several different generational trends - as was seen from my view as I stood next to the Tate Modern, a converted oil-fired power station originally built in the 50s which now stand as the (free!) Contemporary Art Museum of London.  I looked out on the Thames River, across the super sleek Millennium Footbridge, built in 2000 (duh), with St. Paul's Cathedral, dating from the 17th century, in the background.

{photo credit to Isabella Snyder}

We visited the Westminster Abbey, the Gothic Church that stands as the burial place or commemoration lieu for many British extraordinaires - Geoffrey Chaucer, Charles Dickens, Charlotte Bronte, Charles Darwin, Newton, Jane Austen, and many many monarchs - you get the idea.  It is here that I had my audio guide revelation - audio guides, or more specifically free audio guides, are wonderful - they force you to pause and appreciate what's around you and give you fun anecdotal stories that breathe life into the places you've seen.

We also walked through St. James Park, gazed at Buckingham Palace, said hey to Big Ben, and participated in an impromptu photo shoot in a wonderfully-red Londonian telephone booth.

More important than any of the sights that blessed my eyes - was the food that blessed my taste buds.  J'adore pub food.  Sausage sandwiches, fish and chips, peas, Strongbow (British cider that we all went a little mad for) - it was beyond wonderful.

 {photo credit to Katie McCabe}

The first night was spent out on the town - I developed this thing where I would put on the most extraordinary British accent and introduce myself as "Emily, from Yorkshire, in the north of England" to far too many strangers.  Most chaps flattered me by insisting that I sounded authentic, others, not so much.  It was this night that I saw someone's credit card being stolen out of an ATM - the typical trick where one guy tells you that you dropped something and as you lean down to pick it up, his partner grabs your possession.  It was crazy actually seeing it happen, and in a rush of courage and adrenaline, I ran over to the thief - a stout middle-aged man who didn't speak English - and demanded that he give the lady, a most likely tipsy girl in her mid twenties, her card back.  I kept urging that he return it immediately as he went through his wallet, pulling out random cards, trying to prove that he had committed no crime.  After another 20 seconds or so of my demands, he ran off quickly, credit card in tow.  I guess I just don't have very good luck at ATMs.

I didn't let the money mishap ruin my night, which developed quite swelly --- from a chic cocktail bar, to the Roxy [a multi-personality club playing the 50s, 60s, 70s, 80s, 90s, and hits from the 00s!!], landing 5 slightly intoxicated students on floor cushions in what has been named the "Love Den" - the 8 x 12 dorm room of our wonderful hostess Katie, a friend of Isa's from Santa Barbara.

The second night was just as exciting, in a drastically different way - a Lady Gaga way.  We got to the O2 arena, greeted by thousands of superbly dressed fans: hair in bows, beads, 6 inch heels, sequins, color - just magnificent.  Although our nose-bleed seats made Lady G look like a little ant, a beautiful little ant she was.  The show took its audience on a wonderful journey to the Monster Ball, with Gaga pausing every now and then for a costume change or a convo with her little monsters, her endearing name for all of her fans.  She really is a sweet person --- while I fell in love with her music through youtube and deezer, I fell in love with her person in a British arena with 50 000 other people.

Our last day in Londontown was spent on the posh Oxford Street - a big change from the cutesy market shopping on Portobello Road {in Notting Hill!} that we took part in the day before - with a final pub pause at the "Lamb and Flag," sausage and Strongbow included.

{photo credit to Chris Servidio}

A semi-stressed train ride to Gatwick brought us to the airport that would bring me to a country, language, and currency that I had never experienced before - Prague.

Thursday, January 28, 2010

$

Don't you just hate it when you find out about something uber special after it happened, and thus you are unable to be a part of its specialness? Exhibit A:

This past Sunday, Ke$ha was live at Queen, a club on the Champs Elysee in Paris. Although a tad shamed by my love for Ke$ha --- pronounced like the beginning of ketchup but then with a 'shaa' at the end instead of a 'tchup,' ya dig? --- I can't deny that she intrigues me. I've listened to the tracks of her debut album Animal, and honestly I'm not supper impressed - although I love jamming to "TiK ToK" and "Dinosaur" makes me giggle. But I just dig her style.


The dollar sign did throw me off at first, but it turns out she put it there out of irony in that she's the female voice of Flo Rida's "Right Round" and got zero cash for it. From her family's appearance on The Simple Life in 2005, to her dumpster-diving episodes, to her tours with Calvin Harris(!) and Mickey Avalon (!!!), I just think she's cool.

Some have premonitioned that Ke$ha is going to be the new Lady Gaga, after she topped Gaga's 10, 859 weekly radio airplay record by a few hundred plays, but I don't think they flow in the same stream. While Lady Gaga aims to be revolutionary and break barriers (which she is doing quite fabulously with), Ke$ha's chillin and just not giving a fuck.

I look forward to see what she gets into next.