Sally Shapiro is the pseudonym for a Swedish singer who does not wish to be known. She has never revealed her God given identity or performed live and so far has been entirely produced by a man named Johan Agebjorn (How do you do those double dot umlaut things? I'm so stupid). Instead, she lets her music speak for itself, and boy does it ever. Her first album of italo-disco classics "Disco Romance" blew the roof off my tiny studio when it came out. 2 remix albums followed pushing her already beat heavy coo even more towards the dancefloor.
3 years later and the public has been given Sally Shapiro's first single from her proper follow up album. "Miracle" is quite simply put, AMAZING. There are samples of thunder and lightning. There's a spoken french intro. It should have been made as the national anthem for Fantasia. Look for her new album tentatively scheduled to be released this summer by Paper Bag Records (I almost wrote Paper Fag, seriously, wtf?)
Sally Shapiro - Miracle
He keeps me alive
Submit to Prayers For Children
Recently I wrote about a neat project called Prayers For Children. P4C's next move is turning into an online zine, with new co-conspirators (including me!) and new types of media being welcomed into the fold. Below is the submission call for the first issue, which you really want to be a part of, I can assure you:
Prayers for Children is seeking submissions for its next issue, an online exhibition curated by Brother Bramm, Jody jock and P4Cs newest co-conspirators Gregory Kaplowitz and Gina Abelkop.
Deadline Sunday June 7th.
Initiation
A Little Golden Book about queer sex Magik.
Innocent youth transformed through fetish, occult, mythology and the inherent fears and emotions involved.
Spiritual nostalgia. Psychic and psychedelic fiction told in dark beautiful language.
All media considered.
Enter up to 10 submissions.
Written submissions limited to short stories, fables, poetry and prayers.
Jpegs saved Photoshop level 12 that is at least 800 pixels vertical.
Intention is important and submissions should come from a place of love.
Submit To: Submissions@prayersforchildren.be
Homoflexible
I have a weird internal problem with a lot of gay musicians which somehow I have identified with sappy, woe-is-me ballady crap (Rufus Wainwright anyone? I cannot for the life of me get into that man's music). It's terrible, I know, and it just make me look like a homophobic homo. I really don't hate myself, I love ballads, so why can't I get over this weird stigma that has materialized itself in my crazy head? Because when I boil it all down, it just plain sucks. The melodies are terrible, the voices usually bother me in some way or another (Too nasally, too femmey, too coffeehouse with all the annoying weird vocal ticks thrown in, I'm talking to you Ani Difranco). I sound like a total asshole right? Especially since I make lo-fi shoegaze pop and I'm guilty of the same shit! It's awful, I know.
Lately, a trend has begun to emerge where things are just finally clicking. Patrick Wolf makes me want to kiss his toes. I want to go down on Dan Gillespie Sells. I even want to braid Ani Difranco's hair and order her a pizza. What is going on? In my somewhat radical youth, being queer and politically active had become more associated with standing out, creating a scene, and not being entirely sure of what scene I wanted to create or what the whole point of it was. The truth is, I just wanted to be seen and popular. I look back on that and chide myself on creating an ideal of what queer was. There will always be a spectrum of queer art out there, and while I may not like all of it, I should respect and be grateful for it being out there (especially now since I've become the most boring queer on the planet). Which brings me to this burning hunk of love named Chris Garneau...
His music makes me want to wet my bed and love it, and at the same time jump up and down and hi-five people. I don't quite get it, but that's ok. It's pop music at the end of the day. Plus he's put his record out on Absolutely Kosher Records (who have put out records by Xiu Xiu, Goblin Cock, Optiganally Yours, The Hidden Cameras, +/-, and other left-field indie pop acts), who I absolutely ADORE. Maybe it's a sign I'm getting older. Or less picky. I cannot stop listening to this man. Of course, if you know me, my first reaction was "WTF IS THIS CRAP?". I absolutely hated it. I had randomly come across him on like, I dunno, Pitchfork or some other stupid snarky hipster blog, but whatever that's besides the point. I love Chris Garneau and I have formally put together a public apology letter. It goes like this:
Dear Chris Garneau,
I am sorry that I couldn't sit through a 4 minute music video of your song "Relief". I am sorry that I am a stupid hipster asshole and called you a dumb bedwetter (Not out loud, just in my mind). Most of all, I am sorry that I came to my own conclusion too quickly. Now I love you. If you ever need anyone to record back up vocals for free, contact me and I will teleport my ass to wherever you are. I can also cook real good for you. That's not me being creepy and hitting on you through an open letter, BTW.
Sincerely,
Micah
Chris Garneau - Not Nice
Chris Garneau - Between The Bars (Elliott Smith cover)
(MP3 courtesy of Stereogum)
Y'all should buy his albums, they're totes good.
My Massive Feelings (Fragments from the Diary of a Young Girl)
Laurie Weeks (a bio. found on the internet says that she "explores a world of girls snared in a matrix of cultural sociopathology and their own self-loathing. Emphasizing imagery and deadpan humor, her stories have a surreal overcast and combine gothic elements with science fiction") is currently writing this terrific on-going piece for Vice Magazine called My Massive Feelings (Fragments from the Diary of a Young Girl). If you were ever a teenaged girl obsessed with your own dark feelings and Sylvia Plath, or if you are a grown girlish-type creature still obsessed with your own dark feelings and Sylvia Plath (here here!), this is a must read; hilarity and truly touching memories hidden in your own angsty past will ensue. Check it out here and don't forget to read part II as well.
I have always felt like girls being obsessed with Miss Plath was, ok, yes, an angsty tortured goth poet thing BUT also a totally queer thing. Think of the Plath girls you knew, or know now, and watch those threads sew themselves together. There was one specific reading of a Plath poem as queer in one of her many biographies (I am referencing the one talked about in Janet Malcolm's book The Silent Woman; if you are interested in Plath you should really read it) and her ex-husband got really upset, like "what if her children read this someday! defamation!" Like finding out that your mom may have had some queer tendencies would be the worst thing in the world. And considering the context, literally, there is no way that a little bit of gayness could have been the worst part of the Plath legacy. Come on now.
Cloud-Eye Control
Cloud Eye Control is the latest project from YoungCreature fave Anna Oxygen. Oxygen teamed up with Chi-Wang Yang and Miwa Matreyek to form a collaborative performance group who create live performances that incorporate music, video, puppetry, illusions, animation, constructed set pieces and costumes that almost pop my head off because they blow my mind so hard.
Under Polaris-fixed from citrusink on Vimeo.
t. boettner
We just got word from our friend t. boettner (from fire island, AK) that he will be releasing some new stuff soon!
David Wojnarowicz
DAVID WOJNAROWICZ (1954-1992) Untitled (One day this kid . . .) 1990
Carlo McCormick: "[David Wojnarowicz] was doing guerilla art with Julie Hair; he went into the stairwell of Leo Castelli's gallery and poured gallons of cow's blood all over with stencils about hunger on the walls...
But the first guerilla thing I actually ever saw him do was when he made these cock-a-bunnies. He cut out little triangles of white paper for their ears and a little piece of cotton for their tail and stuck them on live cockroaches. They were really cute because they just wobbled around. He made thousands of them and brought them to the 'Beast Show' at PS1. The show was all about artists dealing with animals and he wasn't invited. So he snuck in during the opening and dumped the cock-a-bunnies all over the place."
-from the terrific book David Wojnarowicz: A definitive history of five or six years on the lower east side, published by semiotext(e)
*Listen to David read from his works (which include the excellent The Waterfront Journals, Close to the Knives, and In the Shadow of the American Dream, amongst others) in 1992 here
*View more of his art here
"Fire in My Belly": A Film by David W. with music by Diamanda Galas
Videos of David reading from his work with collages interspersed:
