Going through my music library and I stumbled onto an old favorite, the 1998 debut by the indie-rock supergroup Snowpony. Totally consuming my thoughts these days.


I guess I bought this album when I was 14, when it came out (1998). I had read a kind of tepid review of it in CMJ, which I religiously read back then. As I remember it, the review basically said that this album wasn't as good as it should have been, given the provenance of it's members. That it did not sound like the sum of it's parts. Members Debbie Googe and Katherine Gifford had been in My Bloody Valentine and Stereolab, respectively. This, however, was not shoegaze-y, drone-y, emp pop. This was not proto-marxist 1960s-inflected indie rock. This was sort of a darkwave dance album, made with samples. This is what really struck me about the sound of the record and why I love it so much. This is the era of Solex. Of sampling no longer being a novel act in and of itself, it was by 1998 an exhausted technique. It wasn't new. Snowpony sampled, like, Sonic Youth's "100%" with a sort of tongue-in-cheek knowledge that the average person who would buy the Snowpony album would be able to recognize the Sonic Youth guitar squalls that pop up during the Snowpony song "3 Can Keep A Secret (If 2 Of Them Are Dead)". And I did recognize that sound. This record has some really beautiful moments, and I remember really thinking it was very cool more than ten years ago when I first heard it. Katherine's voice is sort of low, lilting. It was one of the first (and best) times I heard a lead singer who wasn't trying to beat you over the head with their personality. She was not out to tear you down. You had to pay attention to her words, and then the real magick begins.

Going through some old mixes last week, I came across their song "Siamese Fighting Fish". Katherine once said in an interview that the first time they really thought of themselves as successful was when she heard this song come on in a dance club. I read this interview like five years ago or so. When I stumbled across this song, at first I thought "Oh whatever, why would anyone ever play this song in a club? It's too weird, drone-y." Then, as I listened harder, I realized "I don't know if I've ever listened to this entire song all the way through." Then I heard the lyrics to the chorus, which are so beautiful I want to re-post them here. Please check out this wonderful record.


Comforted Creatures

My present to myself for getting through the winter.

Tim Hamilton SWAG t-shirt from last fall with the unusually apt slogan: "It Is Okay For Me To Have Everything I Want".

Feminist Imagery. Sort of.

What a bumpy start we're having! What a car we drive!




Front row at Karl Lagerfeld's A/W 2010 show, Paris

Almost exactly ten years ago today I saw Beth Ditto perform for the first time in SF at the Fillmore, opening for Sleater-Kinney (along with the recently reunited Bratmobile). Later in that fateful summer of 2000 (more on that later, I've been queer for a decade how rad is that?) I saw the Gossip perform in a basement in Olympia during Ladyfest. It was a house show and kids were all drinking beer (I think I let one of those too-cool Evergreen co-eds make my 15 year-old dork self a cocktail of coca cola and whiskey). The room was uncomfortably hot and definitely too crowded. The Gossip had, at this point, only released their self-titled 4-track e.p. (already one of my favorite records of all time), and were literally the coolest thing in the world.

I remember at this show that Kathy had to set up her drums in the basement on the cement floor, and the bass drum kept sliding around. While Nathan tuned his guitar, Beth turned to the rabid crowd and hollered: "OKAY! Who's gonna sit in front of the bass drum so it doesn't move?! Who wants to help the Gossip tonight?!" She was our heroine, our own little rock goddess who was actually nice, who was actually cool (has radical politics of inclusion and liberation) and who was a real person. And now the fashion world thinks she's rad too. And I hope some of her radness inspires kids young and old (looking at you Ms. Wintour) to be a little more revolutionary, radical and real.

Love Taps

The inimitable, unstoppable Jeffery Self, in a new wig. (Um, on the right).

Rose McGowan in The Doom Generation. I'm willing to venture that Jeffery has never seen this film, is not as such doing an homage, but rather (in my imagination) arriving at the same conclusion.

And it is a glamorous conclusion.

Who Do

Cool David

Laserface video by Ptrick

Lost my sunglasses and lost my hoodie, my protective gear. I've bought some new sunglasses in the mail-order though. I am spending all my money! I need some new money. New ways to make money.

Anyways, thinking super deep last night on the treadmill, listening to basically Every Christina Billotte Song Ever (it helps me stay motivated during my long, sweaty workouts). Realize that I feel like the lyrics to the Casual Dots' "Hooded" (which I refuse to shut up about) are newly more apt to my situation: "Don't walk around like a hooded cat. Don't turn your fears to facts. You only get what you expect. You determine what comes to you next." Deep, huh?

What a wonderfully gross rainy day it is out, right? I like it wet.



What even is there to say? ...Even?

Weekend before last, at the Hey Queen! party at Sugarland someone took this photo and turned it into Black and White where it all of a sudden starts to make a lot more sense.

Friends I want to tell you about my Saturday afternoon. Last week my favorite purple hoodie went missing. I'm pretty bummed about it. THEN last Saturday I noticed that my Sunglasses have also gone missing. Thieves abound! I take this as a sign from the Universe that I need to change up my look. Ok.

But it also meant that I am sort of exposed to the world in a way I hadn't been in a while. I gave myself a haircut on Saturday and went to rehearse this new piece with Rachel Shukert and Cole Escola for a reading we were doing on Sunday night. After meeting at Rachel's house (she had JELLY BEANS for us to snack on, and the play she wrote is really hilarious and insightful and I hope she turns it into a real full play and I hope I get to be in it) I was walking around the East Village to go meet up with Sister Pico and PLD.

So I was just walking around, feeling a little exposed to the elements, and generally "slumming up to people, checking out the race". Staring at people in cafes. I saw this one guy sitting across from a woman in the front of a restaurant, just staring into the street. As I passed I stared at him and watched this guy adjust his glasses. I thought "those are such cool glasses, they're like weird oversized clear plastic" as I watched him fix them on his nose. Then, I thought "well, I guess they're good glasses because they're such a nice face. What a Nice Face that boy has. I guess it's good that I lost my sunglasses so I could check out this kind of beautiful face. I was staring at this face, in the East Village, kind of zoning out, thinking, then "What a nice mole that boy has on his perfect face. Where have I seen a perfect face with a perfect mole before?"

And I realized who I was staring at, and I broke into a run to go meet Sister Pico and PLD to show them, to prove I wasn't making it up. I saw them a few blocks away and I was out of breath and my hands were shaking and I was trying to tell them who I had just seen and I felt myself well up, I felt tears coming to my eyes. (And I never cry. But I also never thought I'd see this face, in real life, in New York City, staring back at me).

Schwartzman is a vegetarian and describes himself as "basically" a vegan due to not eating meat, dairy, or eggs.

Fuck what you heard, she's "basically" a vegan.

Then PLD and Tommy and I saw The Runaways and it was really fucking awesome. It had so many quotable quote lines which I am excited to start aping. Namely, at one point the Kim Fowley character is giving press info over the phone, flipping between photos of the girls, saying stupid hackneyed things like "Joan Jett... Bad girl from the streets..." or whatever. He flips to the photo of Lita Ford and says something along the lines of "Rock goddess on Lead Guitar" but then yells into the phone "You DO NOT fuck with Lita Ford!" Which is very true. You do NOT fuck with Lita Ford. Teebs and I went out drinking afterwards but our hearts weren't in it, really.

Some memories / Spring Cleanings

Church (Won't You Take Me To).

Significant Snax

Darlinda Just Darlinda last Friday night at the Cosmic Cavern party. Looking groovy.
They played this SONG at the party which has haunted me since last August when La JJ and I heard it in Berlin. It's some kind of 80s jam with fake horns and cowbell stuff, sort of Talking Heads-y with a female vocalist who (I think) is singing in French but giving some real Nina Hagen trilling effects, so I'm thinking "What is this amazing Nina Hagen song that I have never heard of, yet DJs on both sides of the Atlantic are rocking as a total vintage dance-party classic jam?" I wish I had an iPhone with that program where you hold it up to the speakers at a nightclub and it listens to the song and recognizes it for you! To save me the indignity of actually talking to a DJ or doing what I'm doing now, which is trying (impossibly) to DESCRIBE A SONG. Anyways. I am fascinated / obsessed with this song. Watch it be totally obvious and ridiculous.

Here's a cell-phone picture of Thee Miss Gerry Visco, reading a poem at Joseph Keckler's Inner Beauty Parlor, just serving the kids their HOT LUNCH. Giving you ragamuffins some god-damned NUTRITION so you can BUILD STRONG BONES.

Finally, Miss Gigi. With her gorgeous face. That face will never age. She will always look amazing. What a face. I would give Gigi Swift a rating of Face and a Half, too. Face Point Five.

Possibly Even Two Faces. Infinite Face Power.


Some blonde queer women who I am really digging these days

Jil Sander

Allison Goldfrapp

Erin Markey




Somebody find me the Kim Gordon cover of this song! Stat! I need it ASAP! Or I will die! Give it to me somehow!
Good Morning! I don't care if it snows. I do not give a fuck. It can fucking snow a goddamned blizzard! For real! It would not even bum me out. No one is taking this Springtime away from me.


What a crazy night! Sorry, I hope I didn't blow yr cover with those guys by acting surprised when you said the thing about texting me. I'm so bad with, like, GOING WITH A SCHEME / SCAM. I want to turn to a life of crime but I just don't have the reflexes for it. Those guys are cool. I guess that is what Texan people are like, right? I guess so. If they're really from Texas.

That guy seemed sweet. I hope I didn't seem rude by bouncing. Tommy and I hadn't seen each other in a while cause he'd been in California, and Daniel didn't wanna leave the place HE was at. SO we all went to meet up and went to Mattachine. It was fun I guess, okay. I totally had a missed connection though, I'm sure of it (I don't know what else to call it). SUCH A BUMMER. Now I've lost my favorite hoodie AND my new boyfriend! Super hungover, at work. Going to rally tonight for the DEATH MARCH OF FUN which may possibly be HAPPENING IN THE SNOW. I'm still happening. I will see you tonight.

xx Billy"


Fire / Sign

speaking of

STYLE GOAL: That chick from Silverchair.

Of A Feather


from Kathleen Hanna's My Life with Evan Dando

(Thank) Heaven for Them

I love girl scout cookies. My sainted mother just sent me a box and I've been feeling wonderful, feeling like this:

Which also of course makes me think of the song "Girl Scout" by Jack Off Jill ("FUCKED WHAT I WANT! FUCK WHAT I NEED!"). And that song always makes me think about the remix on the Covetous Creature EP, by Susan Wallace of Switchblade Symphony.

I am trying to find a source here. I remember really distinctly, in my youth, reading an interview with Switchblade Symphony, probably in BAM Magazine or something, where Susan Wallace mentioned that she worked answering phones at a law firm.

I wonder what Susan Wallace of Switchblade Symphony is up to now? These people are asking the same thing. I had heard somewhere that she moved to Las Vegas and had become a massage therapist.

But I don't remember where I heard that.


California Girls

Springtime makes me wanna only listen to that dog.

The progression of their records feels really important to me. For me, that dog. signifies a number of things about California, specifically Los Angeles. Granted, I haven't been back to LA since my family moved out of Eagle Rock in 1993, but it is always special to me. Thinking a lot about how they've always been in the back of my mind, but when it gets sunny out I am really consciously thinking about / obsessing over them. Their first record is so beautiful, aching, and smart. They wrote it as BFFs, it feels like.

So cute, right?

I mean. Couldn't you just? These outfits are really great. I wish I was wearing this today.

Ok. I mean this in an entirely non-sarcastic, fully body-positive way: I totally adore Anna Waronker's upper arms in this, their break-out video for "Old Timer".

Kinda feel like it's okay to say that since the video is a little catty anyway. The genius of that dog. is that it balances this kind of tough, in-the-know, hipster-mocking, cool girl cattiness with, like, naked vulnerability. I dunno. I feel super duper high school describing it. Not that that's a bad feeling.

GOODNESS GRACIOUS, THIS RECORD. I want to talk about this record, but I mainly want to talk about how this record was forbidden for me. Two of my Cool Older Female Friends (Whom I Had Crushes On) forbade me to listen to this record, at different times in my long-delayed adolescence. One friend was in high school and one friend was in college and I don't want to name them or get into it but SUFFICE IT TO SAY, two girls whom I very much admired would tell me that this record, Totally Crushed Out!, was simply TOO EMOTIONAL to listen to or EVEN TO DISCUSS OR MENTION. Because they had been listening to this record while going through painful emotional crushes of their own, and the mere memory of this record would send them reeling back into the emotional pain that this album seems to signify for them. These girls did not know each other, but their experience of the record was the same. So it always seemed to have this magickal power for me, it was, like, steeped Cool Girl Pain. It always seemed like a magic cure for romance blues.

It totally is. It totally is heavy and significant. However, I am always down to discuss this record with anyone. If we're ever at a party or something and you are looking for something to say to me (maybe our conversation has run dry or we're awkwardly standing around waiting to start making out), you can always talk to me about this album and I'll get really excited and then you'll know what I look like when I'm really excited about something.

Girls, it doesn't get a whole lot better than this:

Feel my pulse.

I will say, however, ultimately, that my favorite that dog. album (and the one I got first) has to be their swan-song, Retreat From The Sun.

It gives me mini-time bummers to learn that the record was supposed to be an Anna Waronker solo affair, that she wrote the whole thing and only included the band out of contractual obligations to DGC. But you know what? It doesn't always necessarily matter what the intention of the artist is. Like, it's a pretty interesting phenomenon that we expect artists to be the authority on the significance and meaning of their work.

Regardless of whatever interpersonal turmoil was going on between the Anna and the Hadens Rachel and Petra, I'm glad (in a way) that they went through it, because they made one of my favorite records in the whole world. The over-the-top vocal harmonies are gorgeous. Interesting that Anna wrote most of the songs on the piano, they have this really pretty embellished / crafted quality. You can tell that she's spent some time with these motifs. This record, also, I got during a particularly difficult (feelings-wise) summer. And it feels very sunshine-y to me. it's gotten me through some difficult times, and it has also been the soundtrack to a few love affairs of mine. I've put the opener, "I'm Gonna See You" on a few mix CDs for boys (creepy? overkill? or just emo?). SUCH a gorgeous song.

The album's single, "Never Say Never" is as good as anything else that came out in the late 1990s.

Hair, I mean, matters. So does the message of this song, which is complex! When was the last time that you heard a rock song (pop song?) that articulated the feeling of being conflicted? Lady Caca doesn't sing, darling, about conflict. Sometimes, on sunny days like today, I want to listen to the thoughts of a real girl. A real Californian girl.

After the band broke up Anna put out at least one solo album (it's super cute). Check her website here.


Top Down

For me, it started on Wednesday night.

Coming home on the train to a good vibe. I had a pretty good idea about a story I had written for my new zine. The last little tweak which kind of makes it okay, in my mind. A mean tweak. But a necessary one! Feeling good.

Thursday night we went to see the Ryan McGinley opening at Team Gallery. I sort of knew it was going to be a total shitshow. I made my piece with that. I am loathe to wait in lines, and I get really nervous in big crowds, but I had sort of warned myself beforehand and it was all fine. The place was, obviously, packed. I was as surprised as anyone that I even got into the gallery. I had a beer and checked out the photos. It's a beautiful show. If you're in NYC it is definitely worth checking out. I think you can probably see the photos online too. I BARELY saw them, though, through the crush of people in and outside of the gallery. Traffic had stopped, the street had been completely blocked. I had a nice chat with Tom from Gayletter. It seemed like every second person at the opening worked for some newspaper, everyone was taking photos. One photographer was snapping a young girl, while another photographer took photos of the first one. Very meta. And then the fire marshall shut down the opening and kicked everyone out. Brief mayhem on the street as police yelled at everyone to clear the streets. McGinley addressed the throng with a megaphone, in a very (as PLD noted) Evita mood. We went out for vegan noodles and macaroons and made our way over to the after party at Main Man. Hung out with homies, got groovy. I broke a light fixture with the back of my head, and while I didn't injure myself I did manage to attract a lot of attention to myself, and spent the next few hours picking broken glass out of my hair. All in all a wonderful night, got home at a decent hour.

Friday after work I met up with PLD and Bobo at Jess Paps' house. I drank root beer and whiskey and we talked mad shit on Lady whatever until it felt like a waste of breath. We were also discussing this really cool paper we had just read, Witches, Bitches & Fluids: Girl Bands Performing Ugliness as Resistance, by Karina Eileraas. SO we were all gabbing and GETTING REALLY into analyzing Kat Bjelland's screams. We had a lovely visit with the intrepid young student Jawn, who painted his toenails (it's the cool thing to do). Eventually we all got rowdy enough to leave. PLD and I stopped by Metropolitan, for like a second, to gab in the garden. Then we headed over to Sugarland for the Hey Queen! party. Which was so. much. fun. I hadn't danced that much in a while. We stayed until ALMOST last call, and the fact that we left of our own volition (as opposed to being kicked out at 4am by the bar staff) made me feel really morally superior for some reason. PLD and I trolled out for snacks and then went to this straight people house party and when an argument broke out we went homes.

Saturday I window shopped and worked on printing out the new zine. I feel totally in love with, like, EVERYTHING at the Comme des Garçons BLACK store. Especially a pair of polyester black shorts which, while marked down, were still out of my price range. I want one of those black shopping tote bags so bad I can taste it but I didn't see any in the store. Hmm. Feeling disappointed that I couldn't have everything I wanted all the time, I spent the next twenty minutes cruising this really cute boy in a (probably much too warm) electric blue sweater through the Chelsea piers. Must be springtime.

A little later on Saturday PLD and I went to a dinner at his house for glamorous Gage and his parents. We had too much good food and too much glamor and conversation. All tuckered OUT! We went to Gage's to get ready to go out for the evening, talked about communities and put on some of the fabulous Joey Kipp's shiny blue eyeshadow. We listened to a bunch of California reminiscing jams. You know, The Judy Experience, "Sippin 40z" by Gravy Train!!!!. Takes me back. We went to Southpaw for the REALLY! Party and danced so, so much. Those girls can really shake it. Amazeballs. We took a car up to wburg where we went to the very last call at the Metropolitan. Talked with Massimo and he said he'd give me one of those special Yes Homo shirts from the Little Victory collection and I CAN'T WAIT. PLD and I went to Hana Food to get late night sandwiches which, not to brag, were fucking amazing.

I woke up Sunday and I was SO SORE and couldn't figure out why. Then I remembered how much dancing I'd done this weekend. It's a good feeling. Yesterday I did chores, took a long walk over the bridge, listening to Uncanny Alliance. Went to a benefit for the awesome HEELS ON WHEELS ROAD SHOW last night. A perfect ending to a perfect weekend.

Tonight I'm gonna go to the gym, cook dinner, and do some physical art work.

PLD pointed out this song to me just before the weekend. I know it's already been out for a minute, but anytime Bobby Birdman puts out a record, it's an excellent excuse to fall in love, don'y you think? I can't wait to dance to this song with you. I wanna put this on a mixtape for you, watch you learn the words. This music is perfect. Like, Bobby Birdman manages to sound actually tropical, exuberant and exotic without pandering to some post-colonialist racist Ivy League aesthetic "joke". Just saying. Stay positive!

Love you, Bobby. Forever.

Also one of the many inside jokes / slogans being bandy-ed about this weekend ("It's a look", "Top Down", "Maybe you're tired from TALKING SO MUCH") was PLD chiding someone that "gimme gimme never gets!" Which is totally true, in terms of attitudes of entitlement. Also sort of by chance this weekend I found out about Bonjay and their song "Gimmee Gimmee". Which is maybe my number two nomination for song of summer 2010. I know it's been out for a minute but it makes me so happy. Check it out:

Stay dry.



Well, to start with: THANKS! Thanks everyone for putting up with my shenanigans these last couple of months. I was looking over the blog last night and I was shocked with how crazy it's been. I'm not necessarily sorry but I am glad for my friends' support. Keep reading, I promise to be a bit more sane. I feel grateful. And I also feel so much better. So let's talk about why.


(Specifically, in the second half of the 1990s).

My whole about-face / clawing my way out of psychic hell began by remembering a simple fact: Geena Davis is an archer. She began in the late 1990s and was part of the competition for the Sydney 2000 Olympic games.

This photo is, obviously, inspiring.

The kids over at the brilliant new Dis Magazine have some cool features on Denim. This got me thinking about how I could also reinterpret, reappreciate something. Like, denim is ubiquitous, and so, I think, is Geena Davis. She had just been a really pretty, talented actress to me, when I was a kid. I obviously knew who she was. She's around. She's out there. But I haven't had time to really re-think my relationship to Geena Davis, what she signifies for me, personally. And thinking about this is really empowering / turning me on. Cause then it means: What else have I been overlooking, failing to really appreciate in my life? What else is ripe for a come-back? What else has surprising significance for me?

Like, realizing // remembering that Geena Davis is an archer. That fact gives me so much hope. I had known this a few years ago and forgotten it. Last night, feeling newly good-about-the-world, I decided to do a little detective work on Geena Davis and archery.

And I came upon this clip of Geena Davis on Letterman in December of 1995. It's a bit long, but pretty crucial. She discusses: The Fruit Olympics, her tattoo, going to hell, and her new hobby.

It kind of gave me shivers last night, to see this clip. Because here, Geena Davis is taking up archery ("What else am I gonna do?") and makes a joke about the 2000 Sydney Olympics, basically DECIDING her destiny. Isn't that heavy? Doesn't that inspire you?

I know that I recently wrote about Delia Deetz as a Style Icon, and I swear I'm not just fixated on Beetlejuice (though there are much worse fixations). Geena Davis, in the clip above, is talking about one of my favorite things, RECUPERATION. Geena has re-fashioned her life after her divorce. She has as she said, like Spawn, gone to hell and transformed into a superhero. (Also, what a weird, lovably geeky reference, right? I mean... Spawn? Really?)

She also had her tattoo of her ex-husband's name changed into a Denny's logo. Fuck you.

So, thinking about Geena Davis also, then, taking up archery and doing really well at it. ANd thinking hos inspiring it is to see her succeed, and also how striking it is to see her do this kind of sport. It's kind of like hunting. It's almost violent. Her with the bow is a striking image. I think "This is a side of Geena Davis which I have not seen before". And then I realize // remember.

In fact Geena Davis has let us into her dark side before.

The 1996 thriller The Long Kiss Goodnight. How could I forget? This was lodged somewhere in the back of my memory and it came flooding back to me as I watched the trailer this morning over my chobani greek nonfat honey yogurt (which PLD turned me on to) and gourmet "witch's brew" coffee (which Ptrick turned me on to), blowing my fucking mind:

I can't even fully get all the way into this. Suffice it to say that this movie inspired Kate Bornstein to go blonde, and it's hardly a wonder why. It makes me want to bleach my hair way more than Courtney Love ever could. (Or Kat Bjelland, whatever). Geena Davis, here, just after the Letterman interview, is literally rediscovering her hidden, forgotten past. Her previous prowess. She is getting her mojo back. And incorporating it into her life. Wrestling with her demons, and winning.

And I feel really fucking inspired by that.

I've put it to the top of my Netflix queue. Maybe you wanna come over and we'll drink shots and watch the movie and then go out and reclaim our rightful places as both mother and monster.


Think You Wanna

Yesterday I ran into my friend John on the train and we were talking about the warm weather here in NYC. He said he was excited for Spring and I warned him not to get his hopes up, that we're not out of the woods yet, that March could still go out like the proverbial lion. But, then I looked at the weather forecast and today is also gorgeous. My coworker sagely reminded me that in fact Spring Officially Begins this weekend. I think I need to check my pessimism, right?

Often, my M.O. is to wait for the other shoe to drop. I am always trying to not get my hopes up. And that never helps. Like, you think that you can spare yourself some disappointment by trying to prepare for the worst. But that doesn't work cause then you're still disappointed now you've sabotaged your fun by preparing for the worst.

You think that by being vulnerable, intimate with someone that you deserve a prize. That to be real or honest or something means that your nakedness will always be confirmed by the world around you. You think you really know someone, really well, and then they do something unconscionable, and you can't reconcile what you know with what you do not understand.

And having to expand yr mind to include for the possibilities is painful. That expansion of possibility hurts. And you think (maybe-- not to put words in yr mouth) that there will be some balm for this. But there isn't-- the pain is the reward. That's the prize. It sucks and it is also fucking awesome. This is what I meant in my previous post, about how "We're all capable of anything."

Springtime for me always has this really insane combination of excitement and dread. All of a sudden everything is coming back to life and it is up to me to capitalize on the possibilities. PossiBillyTies. And I think, this time, that I just might.
Thain informs us that today is sacred to Damballa.

First Saw You

Last night Perfect Li'l Daniel and I had our second practice for our new band, B0DY H1GH. Magickal snacks and Mountain Dew in tow. Lavender essential oil left on the radiator, all the windows opened to carry the cool night air. We play on the floor. Sort of sounded like:

But against the backdrop of: