3 6 J*“ * * July 4.2003 MUSIC Who's that girl? Annie Lennox bares her soul after 20 years of exposure by J im R adosta £ Corner o f Suncfy Btvcl. & NC 641h 3106 NE 64th • Portland, OR 97213 H »J c J M :J :1 H : l C 2327 east burnside 503.234.8610 first fell for Annie Lennox as a confused preteen in 1983, intrigued by her gender- bending lixik in the video for Eurythmics’ “Sweet Dreams (Are Made of This).” Aided hy the blase imported androgyny of Boy George, the Scotswoman forced middle Americans to collectively reach for their heads and do some serious scratching. More than a few minds opened up in the process. Lennox kept pushing buttons on MTV with her dual roles in “Who’s That Girl?”: a sultry blond lounge singer and a brcxxling Elvis kx>k- alike who, through the now-primitive magic of the split screen, kissed each other at the end of the video. Oh, behave! Then there was “Sisters Are Doin’ It for Themselves,” Lennox’s girl-power anthem per­ formed with Aretha Franklin. And remember the video for “1 Need a Man," in which she doubled the drag hy dressing like a transvestite? Although I’ve been a devoted Annie fanat­ ic for 20 years, I always felt a certain distance from her ¿is a person, primarily because she wisely opted to forego the Tabloid Diva route by revealing little in interviews. All I knew was she had two kids and two ex-husbands, a Krish­ na named Radha Raman (reportedly the inspi­ ration for “Missionary Man” ) and Spice World film producer Uri Fruchtmann. On Bare — her third solo album, following 1992’s brilliant Diva and 1995’s disap­ pointing Medusa, a covers collection— she finally lets it all hang out. It’s the quintessential breakup albiyn, lending a thoughtful voice to universal feelings of despair and depression. It’s also a career pinnacle, filled with show­ stopping perfonnanccs that easily transition from grixivy ("Pavement Cracks”) to solemn (“The Saddest Song I’ve Got") to lush (“Hon­ estly," a masterpiece of layered vix:als). As an artist and a divorcee, Lennox (still stunning at 48) proves she isn’t just surviving, she’s thriving. She wrote every song on the album, sharing intimate insecurities with raw lyrics like these from the contradictory “Wonderful”: “ Idiot me, stupid fool. How could you H' so unctxil? To fall in love with someone who dix.'sn’t really care for you.” Then check out the Hiuncy “ Bit­ ter Pill”: “How the hell am I gonna find happi­ ness and peace of mind when I’m losin’ all the time. Yea...I’m bitter.” s tu m p to w n coffee, pastries, vegan treats A coustic V alentine Code Curtis • Rykodisc 4 th o f Ju ly «•**« LEATHER (JOES INTO THE WOODS 9 0 0 3 : THE 0 2 P A R TY m m I Hülgjtt BUB n m ag i mi.« mi im k its k Happy Together. Steven Underhill fotos of the boys next door. Nice neighborhood! $20. A brief explanation of music that resonates in your chest is diffi­ cult to pen. The genre is folk, pop, alternative. The lyric is sweet, the guitar is solid, the vocal is melodic, and the accompani­ ment is tight. Lesbian songwriter Catie Curtis sets sail with the new retrospective album Acoustic Valeri tme, featuring her previously unreleased and self-proclaimed gay anthem “Honest World.” After the release of her indie discs From Years to Hours and Truth from Lies, Curtis was spotted by EMl/Guardian, which rereleased the latter while assembling her namesake album, Catie Curtis, which would assist in future endeavors— television exposure on both Date- son’s Creek and Chicago Hope, various radio spots, occasional stops with Lilith Fair. Transitions in both her label and life circum­ stances gave birth to the stunning A Cras/i Course m Roses, and after a brief Hit important tour with Dar Williams, her collaHnative nature took the reins with the release and international band-touring of My Shirt Looks Good on You. Curtis’ co-pnxlucer (and harmony vocalist, guitarist, Hxizouki player) on Acoustic Valentine, John Jennings, suffered a serious car accident last summer, and this is his first project since then. The pair recorded and mixed the album in five days at his Virginia studio. With a soothing chronology of girl-loves-girl heart, Acoustic Valentme is a celebration of Curtis’ sound thus far, and as usual, everyone is invited. —Marie Fleischrrumn B lack C herry The Gossip • Kill Rock Stars Goldfrapp • Mute 2-hour video. Great for boyfnends, pets. $50 DOWNTOWN @ 927 SW OAK • 226-8141 ling, Black Cherry. This one takes a sharp turn, away from the eerie, cinematic wonder- scape and into the heart of an illicit, electric city. G one is the serenity of the strings and in come the raunchy synths and stem robotic sounds. British artists Alison Goldfrapp and Will Gregory’s new road is unequivocally meant to be dirty and provocative, as demonstrated in the C D cover and inside pictures of lesbian pinup girl Alison inter­ twined and mixed up with wolves and parts thereof. Weird. This is continued by the tone of lyrics like those in “Twist": “Put your dirty angel face between my legs and knicker lace" and “Strict Machine: “I’m in love with a strict machine when u send me a pulse feel a wave of new love through me.’’ Yet in the midst of all this ample explicit­ ness, Goldfrapp still manage to maintain their characteristic foggy context and nar­ cotic dream state. A strong undercurrent of sensuous hypnotic beats, whirling sounds and intervals of slower alien rustling, grip tight and have the strength to engulf and carry even the most resistant deep into their deca­ dent world. The jury’s still out on whether either of these two are queer or not, but the music suggests some ample bending— body and soul. — Els Debbaut M ovement < @ ) Dad s Bedtime Tales v2. New stones of daddies ‘n’ boys in their quest for spooge. $20. ( @ ) Jay Wiseman Teaches Rope Bondage. Annie, are you OK? Fortunately, Lennox keeps Bare from sound­ ing like a $17.99 suicide note by maintaining a hopeful demeanor throughout. She expresses her gratitude for “A Thousand Beautiful Things” and forcefully declares, albeit uncon­ vincingly, her independence on “Erased." JH REVIEWS sandw iches on g ra n d ce n tra l bread T h is W e e k e n d I Annie Lennox then and now: Her self-portrait graces the cover of B are, an unmasked reference to 1 9 8 4 ’s Touch T he wait since September 2000 is finally over: Goldfrapp’s laid-back Felt Mountain has got a new, spunkier and lustier sib­ T he Gossip are on the move. Mo/o, Spin and the rest of the male-dominated glossy alt- rock mags are drooling over Ms. Beth Ditto and her bawdy, blues-injected punk- rock trio. Salivate on, brothers. The band’s third album, Movement, is a fat bitch-slap of a record— 11 tunes excavated from Big Mama Thornton’s grave. The gay press has loved The Gossip since Day One: an Olympia address, a queer-positive message, a supernova of a lead singer. The kids eat it up, too. Now, every show is a fleshy dance party. Imagine! Every fiat chick is the star of her own Super-8 movie. The only bummer of Movement? It muffles the beast unleashed live. The manifesto issued from your speakers is energetically censored, no doubt evidence of the lo-fi ethic (and budget). Listening to Movement delivers only part of The Gossip’s message. You can’t dance to the first track, “N ite,” but you can sure as hell hear D itto’s agony as she sings, “ It seems like lonely is a friend of mine.” Her kinesthetic delivery turns a bad breakup into a redemptive celebration. T he rest of the album drops like caffeine Himhs, one speedy sucker punch to the gut after another. There are more winners than losers: “Jason ’s Basement" (“ I get by with the people I know, get by with the people 1 know” ), "D on ’t (M ake W aves)” (“ It’s like I got a hole in my pocket” ), “All My Days,” “N o, N o, N o.” Ditto manages to use the per­ sonal to propel upward, onto a platform of equality, freedom of expression and gender exploration. In the same month that On Our Backs prints a cover spread of Ditto and her drag-king lover trading blow jobs, alt-rock stalwart Pitchfork shouts, “The Gossip Launch Extensive Wixld Tour" from its home page (www.pitchfork- media.com). Take some comfort in knowing that a band like this can affect more people than those who arc just like them. —Con Taratoot JTJ