Organ

I just bought this for $20 at a flea market. It has a solid wood case and it works! Everyone needs an organ, right? I can start my own religion.

How to Sell Art in Ottawa and 2 Musicians I Like

1) Today I discovered the key to selling art in Ottawa. You may not like this, but this is a little sad reality I witnessed today at the Old Ottawa South Art in the Park.
So here it is: find a well-heeled white-haired woman with alcohol on her breath. She will spend. Believe me. She will spend. And she'll say things like, "My kids are going to kill me." I watched an artist navigate this situation very very carefully and ended up making a lot of money.

2) DM pointed out today that I like an anglo musician who writes very much like a francophone musician I also like. Both are pretty rough writers, and both have moments of fucking brilliance. The anglo musician is Dan Reeder, who has lines like this: "I don't really want to talk to you/But my business requires that I do." Who can't relate to that? He also has a song entitled "I drink beer", which I appreciate as a song title.

3) The francophone musician is Cayouche. He is ugly. He has a big ugly growth on his face, and apparently smells in person. But he is brilliant. My favourite song of his is -- my translation in English -- "You broke the chain on my tractor". Some other great lines in the song are (my translation):
You don't want to castrate the horses anymore
You don't look after the pig.
You say you want to go to Montreal.
Take your bags and get the fuck out of here.

You can watch Cayouche in action here.

Alain Bashung, December 1, 1947 - March 14, 2009

Alain Bashung, one of France's great singer/songwriters just died at the age of 61. I discovered Bashung a few years ago through dischevelled man, and immediately fell in love with him. He is Elvis, Buddy Holly, Bob Dylan and Leonard Cohen, all in one beautiful French package. Bashung was touring right up until the time he died of lung cancer. I was hoping to get a chance to see him. I have his latest CD, Bleu Petrole, which features the heartbreaking, "Resident de la Republique".

I'm a huge fan of Bashung's old stuff, too. If you want to buy one Bashung CD (besides his latest), I recommend "Osez Josephine". Here is a video of the title track. I'm playing it right now.

His first big hit, Gaby Oh! Gaby, will transport you back to the 80s.

Feist sucked

I saw Feist last night. She wouldn't have sucked if she had been playing at the Manx or the Black Sheep Inn. But on the Main Stage of the Bluesfest, I didn't think she pulled it off, except for maybe the first 5 rows of people. She was doing her ambiant, artsy thing, which is pretty and everything, but doesn't work in that context. It annoyed me that she was a wanker last night. I wanted to see her rock, to be larger than life. I like Feist's schtick generally. Her voice is unique. The woman is capable of giving it when she wants to. But I'm over the whole 1, 2, 3, 4 shit.

Travel soundtracks

When I travel, I sometimes have surreal soundtrack moments: when I hear music that either compliments or doesn't compliment a place. Here are some memorable travel soundtrack moments I've had:

Kupang, West Timor, Indonesia: Hearing this Vanilla Ice tune while -- in full tropical heat-- riding a Bemo, an Indonesian taxi, which is basically a pimped up minivan stuffed with more people and chickens than you can imagine.

Seoul, Korea: In a woman's underwear/lingerie store. I heard this Ace of Bass classic (as interpreted by Britney) while examining a pair of padded-ass panties. Yes, they sell padded-ass underwear in some parts of the world...

Malmo, Sweden: At a small outdoor skating rink in a public square on a crisp January morning, watching children skate to Abba's Take a Chance. This one made a lot of sense.

Nashville, Tennessee: I took control of this travel soundtrack. In downtown Nashville traffic, I was driving a minivan containing two very badly behaved nephews. To calm my nerves, I shoved Bob Dylan's Nashville Skyline into the player. This one made a lot of sense to me, too.

Lisbon, Portugal: This is my latest soundtrack moment, and took place in a taxi, driving through a beautiful old neighbourhood with palm trees and tile-decorated homes with exquisite linens hanging out in the sun. My friendly, stocky, Portugese-only speaking driver was playing Bon Jovi's classic Shot Through the Heart. I have a great new appreciation for this tune:

"Shot through the heart,
And you're to blame
You give love a bad name
I play my part, and you play your game
You give love a bad name.
You give love a bad name."

Music for the Long Weekend

Here is some inspirational music for the long weekend. I heard this 60's band, the Honeycombs, on a CBC thing on Friday evening and I thought they kicked ass. Apparently, their producer, Joe Meek, stuck a microphone under his front steps and got them to stomp to get the banging effect. The female drummer is very cool. I would like to dress like her and be like her.

Richard Desjardins

I am in love with Quebec singer-songwriter,Richard Desjardins. If you want beautiful music to get you through your February blues, go out and buy his 1998 unplugged CD, Boom Boom.
Yesterday at a musical event, I sidled up to the bar, and realized I was literally rubbing elbows with Richard Desjardins. We smiled at each other, and I forgot that I was there to order a drink. Then, today, while walking down the street, I looked across, and there was Richard Desjardins with his little black suede jacket and his smoke. I'm convinced that it is destiny: we were meant to be together. He is a teeny bit older than I am. On another blog, I was defending Julia Child's decision to put her much older husband in a nursing home while she continued on with her work. Message to Richard Desjardins: when we get married, I promise I won't ship you off to the nursing home.

"In my mind and in my car, we can't rewind we've gone too far"

This is my song of the day: Video Killed the Radio Star (1979) by the British group, the Buggles. I was crabby. Then, I heard this song, and have transformed from crabby to happy. If you want to be happy, you can watch and listen here. Brilliant. And, lots of costume inspiration here for Astronaut Love Triangle.

My weekend

I still have not found my passport application in spite of some weekend house cleaning/tidying. I now have a sort of sick feeling about it. The completed application not only included photos and signed stuff from my guarantor, but it also contained very important fucking documents such as my old passport and my proof of British citizenship certificate.

In addition to the passport fiasco, my other weekend disappointment was the Tulip Festival. It's no fun now that they took out the music. I went to Major's Hill Park thinking that I could taste international food for free. Turns out that event is next weekend. This weekend just seemed to be about a sad little clown doing some stunts with sidewalk chalk and people like me eating fries in the sun.

The highlight of the weekend was going to see Ariane Moffat at Barrymore's. This young Quebecoise kicks ass. She does all kind of fun techno stuff on her laptop, but she can still rock out. I loved her and now own her CD.

We Built This City

OK, I woke up this Monday morning with Starship's "We Built This City" in my head. Apparently, this song has been considered by some to be one of the worst, if not the worst of all time. And yet, it is spooling through my brain. I don't think it's as bad as they say.

Someone always playing corporation games/Who cares they're always changing
corporation names/We just want to dance here someone stole the stage/They call
us irresponsible write us off the page. Marconi plays the mamba, listen to the radio, dont you remember/ We built this city, we built this city on rock and rollWe built this city, we built this city on rock and roll/Built this city, we built this city on rock
and roll.

I met a Canadian Idol!

I met a young Canadian heartthrob yesterday named Wilfred Le Bouthillier. What an adorable little poptart he is! He won the French-Canadian equivalent of Canadian Idol, Star Academy, in 2003.

I fought my way through a group of frenzied teenaged fans, wearing my pink colour-of-my-blog sweater, and caught his attention.
Wilfred wormed his way to the top of the competition, not only because he has talent, but because he was such a humble, nice guy. And, the judges loved his innocence. When asked what he wanted to be as a child when he grew up, he answered, 'the pope'. Adorable! How could they resist?
Before meeting him, I got to see his show, which was a lot of fun. He did the best rocker jump I've seen in a long time. Some of his lyrics need some work. He has a song called 'Tout sorte de monde' which means something like 'It takes all kinds'. One of the verses goes (and I translate here) 'It takes black and white, rich and poor, etc...' You get the idea. Wilfred needs to work on some of his writing. But who cares! He is delightful. I could eat him for breakfast.