Last night was Blondie at the Fillmore but before I get to the lovely Debbie Harry & Co. I'll start at the beginning with The Negro Problem. Or rather, the problem with The Negro Problem.
The Negro Problem is a band from Silverlake and although I'd seen them once or twice before at Old I, I do not remember them being so bad. Alas, much of the crowd seemed to love them - at least that portion of the crowd that probably doesn't get out much. Sure, that sounds snobby and music-elitist but The Negro Problem was such a shameless amalgamation of the Dave Matthews Band and Hootie & the Blowfish - yet they so badly wanted to be something more like XTC meets Cake - that it hurt.
It really really hurt.

Thank God Blondie kicked some serious ass. Not only does the band - which features original members Debbie Harry, Clem Burke, Chris Stein and Jimmy Destri - still look really good but they sound even better. The band played a few of its newer songs (including "Maria" which I actually like quite a bit) but stuck mostly to the classics. Deborah Harry's voice sounded great on numbers such as "Heart of Glass", "Rapture", "Call Me" and "Hanging on the Telephone".
I first got into Blondie when I was about 9 years old. My best friend at the time, Lauren, owned copies of "Blondie", "Plastic Letters" and "Parallel Lines" - we used to sit in her room listening to them and staring at pictures of the hopelessly and forever cool Debbie Harry. I think "Autoamerican" is one of the first 10 albums I bought with my own money and to this day I still think of the band as one of my first - and most enduring - musical loves. (trivia: when I was a senior in high school I was in a production of the female version of The Odd Couple. I played "Renee" - friend to the two main characters. As part of the character-building process the director had us pick out 'theme songs' that we felt best defined our roles. I picked Blondies' "Rip Her to Shreds" because the character of Renee was gossipy and bitchy and was, well, basically always ripping everyone to shreds....) Finally getting to see them live was a real treat. Having them look and sound great was even better. I couldn't help but shake my ass during "Heart of Glass". It brought me back to those fourth and fifth grade days of making endless loops around either the ice rink or roller rink while wearing jeans and leg warmers and dreaming that I was some hot new wave chick....those were the days... those were the days...

Anyway...our trip to SF also included a visit to Amoeba where, in addition to albums (old and new) by Rilo Kiley, Aztec Camera and Ashley Park, I also picked up a copy of Peaches' "Teaches of Peaches". Cory and I had both heard a lot of great things about this CD (every rock critic in the nation seems to be falling over him or herself to declare this one of the best records of the year - lots of Prince and Madonna comparisons have been bandied about) in the past few weeks so I decided to take the plunge. Intrigued by the title of the album's opening track "Fuck the Pain Away" - I had high hopes for this record, thinking it might be something sexual, political, social and - hopefully - danceable.
Man, was I ever disappointed.

Instead of getting something catchy and/or danceable in the vein of Miss Kittin & the Hacker, Ladytron, Golden Boy or Felix da Housecat, I got a lot of stale Casio beats. Instead of getting politically and sexually-charged and substantial lyrics in the spirit of Le Tigre, Mirah, Bikini Kill, Liz Phair and Hole I heard "fuck" and other seeming titallating words repeated ad nauseum - but uh, that was about it.
Instead of getting something just overtly raw and booty-shaking well, did I mention those stale casio beats? Did I mention there was barely any melody to speak of?
Damn, give ME a keyboard player and a microphone. I can drone words like 'fuck' and 'suck' monotonously too....Seriously, "Fuck the Pain Away" - such a waste of a great song title....I just might have to appropriate it for my own use...
In the meantime, the Style Hype wins out over Substance once again....