Citizen of the Month

the writing and photography of Neil Kramer

Category: Music (Page 6 of 7)

Even Cowgirls Have to Pee

November 13, 2006 / / 44 Comments


Vince Gill’s “What the Cowgirls Do”

Tonight, Sophia and I attended a concert of country star Vince Gill, which was a little odd, considering neither of us know any of his songs. Bu it was still fun seeing all the fake LA cowboys coming out of their BMWs, many of them wearing cowboy boots they just bought in Beverly Hills.

During intermission, I was standing at the urinal between two accountants wearing large cowboy hats. And NO — despite what some women think — men do not “check each other out” while peeing. I can’t believe Sophia even asked me that question. In fact, while standing at the urinal, I was too busy coming up with a country song to write on my blog, but I gave up after trying to rhyme “urinal” with “Vince Gill.”

As I left the bathroom, I saw Sophia waiting on line for the Ladies Room. While I was pretty much in and out of the Men’s Room, thirty women were waiting to get into their bathroom. This is such a common event — women waiting for the bathroom — that most of us take it for granted. But why? When are women finally going to get their act together and ask for more bathrooms in theaters and concert halls? Why are women so patient? There is no way men would wait so long to pee. Most of us would just do it against the wall.

Now, I know some blame the patriarchal society for the lack of adequate restrooms for women. I say, BS. Those days are over. I live in California, a state that is not afraid to give women political power. Both of our senators, Barbara Boxer and Diane Feinstein, are women. The new speaker of the house, Nancy Pelosi of California, is a woman. Write to them and tell them that you are tired of waiting to pee! More bathrooms for women! It should be a law!

Or as Vince Gill might sing:

My Cheatin’ Heart
Just Felt Amiss
Seeing all the pretty cowgirls
Waiting and waiting to piss.

(by the way, Sophia liked the Pet Shop Boys much better)

A Year Ago on Citizen of the Month: This is Not a Blog Anymore

She’s With Stupid

November 8, 2006 / / 38 Comments

My Republican-voting separated wife is a little down today after all the Democratic wins yesterday during Election Day. To cheer her up, I’m bringing her to see the British duo, Pet Shop Boys tonight at the Wiltern Theater. This should be special for her, since Sophia is a classy dame who likes jazz and classical music, so I think this might be her first “pop” concert. And as an added treat — I think they are also going to be performing on her beloved “Dancing With the Stars” later tonight.

One little problem. Artists frequently sing a lot of the songs from their latest CD. I just looked up the Pet Shop Boys latest on Amazon. It is titled “Fundamental” and it is supposedly their most “political” work. They have one single that was a hit in Europe titled “I’m with Stupid,” which is an attack on Bush and Tony Blair, and even posits them as gay lovers. I even found a video of them doing the song where extras walk around in mocking “George Bush” masks.

If I’m divorced by tomorrow, you will know the reason why.

A Year Ago on Citizen of the Month: Stolen Photos, Stolen Lives

The Amadeus of Redondo Beach

November 4, 2006 / / 50 Comments

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A new barista has been working at the coffee house a block from my house during the afternoon shift.   He is a music student, maybe twenty years old, and an extremely talented violinist.  The coffee house is usually empty during the late afternoon.  Today, I went in for a cup of coffee.  As I drank my coffee, the barista played his violin behind the counter.  He stood in front of a music stand, playing from a book titled “Music by Bach.” 

The barista’s playing was amazing.  He had a masterful control of his instrument and  produced rich, romantic tones.  He also had that “X-factor” they talk about on shows like “American Idol.”  He was young, intense, good-looking, with long brown hair. 

After he finished his piece, I complimented him on his talent.  I walked over, eager to relate to him as an “informed” classical music lover.  After all, you don’t meet too many “sophisticated” people in Redondo Beach, which is mostly well-known for having good fish tacos.

“Excellent,” I said.  “That’s Bach, right?”  I asked innocently, faking that I didn’t already know the answer since he was playing from a book titled “Bach Concertos.” 

“Huh?  Who?”  he asked in return.

“Bach.  You were playing Bach, right?”

“Uh, I dunno.  They gave us this book in school.” 

He looked at the front of his music book, apparently for the first time.

“Hey, you’re right.” he announced.  ” Bach.  Cool.  I’m bringing the sexy Bach!”

I suddenly occurred to me that this talented violinist who just blew me away with his soulful and melancholy music was a complete imbecile.

I sat down and finished my coffee, feeling much like Salieri. 

Later that day, I saw him skateboarding in the street with these two surfer dudes WHILE carrying his violin case under his arm.

Summer Radio

July 22, 2006 / / 50 Comments

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Radio DJ: “Welcome back to KNEIL, the HOTTEST music station on EARTH, home to the WIN WIN WIN KNEIL CONTEST. The fifth caller gets free tickets to this weekend’s HOTTEST concerts and MORE! Hope you’re all enjoying your weekend out there. It’s definitely SUMMER. It’s a SCORCHER out there. HOTTTT!!! Hoping you’re keeping COOL at the BEACH. Woo-hoo, I wish I were there RIGHT NOW! Bikini babes and surfer dudes — BLASTING KNEIL and rocking with the SUMMER BEAT of the 70’s, 80’s, 90’s, and today. IT’S KNEIL. K-N-E-I-L. More commercial-free music. More rock. More soul. More. More. More. Summer means music and KNEIL plays the best summer songs all SUMMER LONG. Who doesn’t associate the summer with music? Remember the song that reminds you of your first kiss? Of that special summer vacation? Of “See You in September” playing in sleep-away camp? DING. DING. DING. It’s dedication hour. Call in RIGHT now with your favorite summer song from yesterday or today! What summer memory does this song remind you of? Call KNEIL! And the first caller is DING DONG: You’re on KNEIL!”

Neil: “Hi, this is Neilochka.”

Radio DJ: “Yo! Neilochka! What’s happening. What’s the STATION THAT ROCKS?”

Neil: “KNEIL!”

Radio DJ: “RING. RING. RING. What song do you want to hear and why?”

Neil: “It’s an old Donna Summer song, called “Bad Girls.” I remember being at a friend’s house and his sister putting it on the stereo, and some girl chased me around the pool, and I slipped and needed stitches. But I had the last laugh because the girl got in trouble  for running around the pool.”

Radio DJ: “BING BING BING. What a hot summer memory! BEEP BEEP BEEP. It’s SUMMER LOVE WEEKEND, all day today — COMMERCIAL FREE — on KNEIL, where it pays to PLAY! Neil, would you like dedicate this great song to anyone special?”

Neil: “Yes. I have a blog at citizenofthemonth.com, and I’ve become good friends with many brilliant, creative, and gorgeous women who I’ve met through my blog. I’d like to dedicate this summer song to these talented women, because I now think of them whenever I hear this song.”

Radio DJ: “GONG! This is for you, female readers of Citizen of the Month — a special song dedicated to YOU, here on KNEIL!”

Bad Girls by Donna Summer

Bad girls
Talking about the sad girls
Sad girls
Talking about bad girls, yeah

See them out on the street at night, walkin’
Picking up on all kinds of strangers
If the price is right
You can’t score if you’re pocket’s tight
But you want a good time
You ask yourself who they are
Like everybody else
They come from near and far
Bad girls, yeah

Bad girls
Talking about the sad girls, yeah
Sad girls
Talking about bad girls, yeah

Friday night and the strip is hot
Sun’s gone down and they’re out to trot
Spirit’s high and legs look hot
Do you wanna get down
Now don’t you ask yourself who they are
Like everybody else, they wanna be a star

Bad girl
Sad girl, you’re such a naughty bad girl
Beep-Beep, uh-uh
You bad girl you sad girl
Your such a dirty bad girl
Beep-Beep, uh-uh

Now you and me we’re both the same
But you call yourself by different names
Now your mama won’t like it when she finds out
That her girl is out at night

Hey, Mister, have you got a dime
Mister, do you want to spent some time
Oh, yeah
I got what you want, you got what I need
I’ll be your baby, come and spend it on me
Hey, Mister
I’ll spend some time with you

P.S. — It seems that everyone has music on their mind during the hot summer in the city: more music favorites at Fringes and Rebecca.

A Year Ago on Citizen of the Month: Lies and Lying

Sophia: The Lyrics

May 3, 2006 / / 47 Comments

billboard chart 

Yes, we all had fun last week, sitting around the campfire and singing such favorites as “Melissa,” “Michelle,” and “Allison.”   On Thursday, May 4th, as promised, will be the World Premiere of what is sure to be this summer’s hottest and most rockin’ song with a woman’s name as a title, “Sophia.”  The lyrics have been written and tomorrow I’m going into the studio with one of LA’ s hippest indie bands, “Citizen and the Months.”  So, come back Thursday and BE READY TO ROCK!  I will sing the song LIVE!

“SOPHIA”

They say no man should be alone
That’s why I called you on the phone.
Cause no one loves you like I do.

I know I’ve gone and done you wrong
That’s why  I’m writing you this song
To tell you that my heart belongs to you.

chorus

Oh Sophia
I think of you all day
Oh Sophia
You rock me every way
Oh Sophia
Sweetest of them all
Oh baby
Why y’not answering my call?

Let’s put behind us all that stuff
Cause ‘without you’ is not enough
I’m waiting by the phone all night and day

I’m like a ship that’s lost at sea
So c’mon, baby, rescue me
You gotta listen to what I have to say

chorus

Oh Sophia
I think of you all day
Oh Sophia
You rock me every way
Oh Sophia
Sweetest of them all
Oh baby
Why y’not answering my call?

Staying Jiggy With it

November 16, 2005 / / 42 Comments

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I’m reading a blog written by this really cool woman.  She’s talking about what music she has on her iPod.  She listens to the coolest current music and I’m writing down the names of the latest bands that I never even heard of.   Then this woman starts talking about her teenage children, and I realize that this woman is 35 years old.  It makes me think of my own parents and their relationship to my music, which was mostly:

"Neil, make that hard rock lower!  It’s driving me crazy"  (and we’re talking about Hall and Oates here).

For my parents, listening to popular music stopped when they got married and had jobs.  They became too busy with real life to keep up with the latest movies, songs, and TV shows.  Even today, my mother is always one year behind with popular culture:

Me:  "I’ll call you later, Mom.  I’m watching "The Office."

Mom:  "Whose office?"

I don’t do this to make fun of old-fashioned parents.  I do this to make fun of us, a generation that feels the need to keep current. 

It is impossible to keep up with all of the latest stuff.  It used to be that you had to only keep track of the latest celebrities and movie stars.  Now you have to remember "reality stars."  You have to know "blogs."  People even know the names of "adult stars" now!  Soon, we’ll feel embarrassed if we don’t know the names of "podcasters."

I have to admit that I sometimes read "celebrity" blogs and have no idea who they are talking about.  For the life of me, I don’t understand why anyone is interested in Nicole Richie.  Because of that one stupid TV show with Paris Hilton?  If you asked me, I could not hum any of Ashlee Simpson’s songs to you.

I use to pride myself on seeing every single movie that was ever released.  I would sit in movie theaters for hours.  I used to anxiously wait for the TV Guide Fall Season issue to come out and bookmark what shows I would watch that season.  Now, I barely find time to watch "Lost."

Maybe this is the way things are supposed to be.  After all, does a teenager really want a Mom who listens to Franz Ferdinand on her own iPod?  What do you rebel against?  Does the teenager intentionally listen to Donny Osmond to annoy her — just like Alex Keaton in "Family Ties" became a Reagan supporter to rebel against his hippy parents?

I notice that radio stations have started to adjust to the aging population.  "Oldies" stations used to play music from the 50s and 60s.  Now they play music from the 80s and 90s.   Soon there will be nursing homes where the residents will be rocking to Led Zeppelin.    Or maybe future retirees will be downloading the latest music from iTunes, still hip to the latest music.    Maybe this is actually a good thing.   Someone 30 or 40 today seems a lot younger than someone 30 or 40 from the last generation. 

Even my mother is trying to be more current with movie stars now that Paul Newman doesn’t act much anymore.  She recently called me up and said she saw some movie on HBO with Jude Law.  Unfortunately, she read on Page 6 of the New York Post that he was a "real jerk" to his wife.

"So, do you like Jude Law?" I asked.

"He’s very handsome… but he’s no Paul Newman."

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Simon & Garfunkel, meet Melville and Beck

October 29, 2005 / / 8 Comments

By popular demand (well, actually it was Sophia), I’ve moved this comment from my Jane Austen/Pussycat Dolls post over here so it can have its own home.  Why?  I’m not really sure. 

Here was Mernitman’s request –

“Risking the lit-esoterica zone, I’ll put my bid in to see the Melville/Beck mash-up, in which Bartleby the Scrivener sings, “I would prefer not to / I’M A LOSER, BABY!”…”

So, here it goes, just for you:

bartleby.jpg

loser.jpg

Imagine my surprise, nay, my consternation, when, without moving from his privacy, Bartleby, in a singularly mild, firm voice, replied, “I would prefer not to.”

In the time of chimpanzees, I was a monkey
Butane in my veins and I’m out to cut the junkie
With the plastic eyeballs, spray-paint the vegetables
Dog food stalls with the beefcake pantyhose

I sat awhile in perfect silence, rallying my stunned faculties. Immediately it occurred to me that my ears had deceived me, or Bartleby had entirely misunderstood my meaning. I repeated my request in the clearest tone I could assume; but in quite as clear a one came the previous reply, “I would prefer not to.”

Kill the headlights and put it in neutral
Stock car flaming with a loser in the cruise control
Baby’s in Reno with the vitamin-D
Got a couple of couches, sleep on the loveseat
Someone keeps sayin’ I’m insane to complain about

“Prefer not to,” echoed I, rising in high excitement, and crossing the room with a stride. “What do you mean? Are you moon-struck? I want you to help me compare this sheet here — take it,” and I thrust it towards him.

“I would prefer not to,” said he.

A shotgun wedding and a stain on my shirt
Don’t believe everything that you breathe
You get a parking violation and a maggot on your sleeve
So shave your face with some mace in the dark
Saving all your food stamps and burnin’ down the trailer park
Yo cut it!

I looked at him steadfastly. His face was leanly composed; his gray eyes dimly calm. Not a wrinkle of agitation rippled him. Had there been the least uneasiness, anger, impatience or impertinence in his manner; in other words, had there been anything ordinarily human about him, doubtless I should have violently dismissed him from the premises.

Soy un perdedor
I’m a loser baby
So why don’t you kill me?

But as it was I should have as soon thought of turning my pale plaster-of-Paris bust of Cicero out of doors. I stood gazing at him awhile, as he went on with his own writing, and then reseated myself at my desk. This is very strange, thought I. What had one best do?

(double-barrel buckshot)
Soy un perdedor
I’m a loser baby
So why don’t you kill me?

Try one yourself!

Jane Austen and the Pussycats

October 27, 2005 / / 47 Comments

Hey, DJ Neilochka here tonight for all those brainy lovers out there who WANT their literature with a little funk, their books with a little BOOGIE — this is for you — a literary/song mash-up where the button down babes of the 19th Century meet the bottoms up beauties of today.

What is a mash-up?

So, here we go, a mash-up of Jane Austen’s "Pride and Prejudice" (now a movie!) and The Pussycat Dolls "Don’t Cha." 

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Pride and Prejudice – Chapter One

It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife.

However little known the feelings or views of such a man may be on his first entering a neighbourhood, this truth is so well fixed in the minds of the surrounding families that he is considered as the rightful property of some one or other of their daughters.

I know you like me (I know you like me)
I know you do (I know you do)
Thats why whenever I come around
Shes all over you (she’s all over you)
I know you want it (I know you want it)
Its easy to see (it’s easy to see)
And in the back of your mind
I know you should be f***ing me (babe)

"My dear Mr. Bennet," said his lady to him one day, "have you heard that Netherfield Park is let at last?"

Mr. Bennet replied that he had not.

"But it is," returned she; "for Mrs. Long has just been here, and she told me all about it."

Mr. Bennett made no answer.

"Do not you want to know who has taken it?" cried his wife impatiently.

"You want to tell me, and I have no objection to hearing it."

This was invitation enough.

Don’t cha wish your girlfriend was hot like me?
Don’t cha wish your girlfriend was a freak like me?
Don’t cha
Don’t cha
Don’t cha wish your girlfriend was raw like me?
Don’t cha wish your girlfriend was fun like me?
Don’t cha
Don’t cha

"Why, my dear, you must know, Mrs. Long says that Netherfield is taken by a young man of large fortune from the north of England; that he came down on Monday in a chaise and four to see the place, and was so much delighted with it, that he agreed with Mr. Morris immediately; that he is to take possession before Michaelmas, and some of his servants are to be in the house by the end of next week."

"What is his name?"

"Bingley."

"Is he married or single?"

"Oh! single, my dear, to be sure! A single man of large fortune; four or five thousand a year. What a fine thing for our girls!"

I know I’m on your mind
I know we’d have a good time
I’m your friend
I’m fun
And I’m fine
I aint lying
Look at me shit
You ain’t blind (you ain’t blind)
I know I’m on your mind

"How so? how can it affect them?"

"My dear Mr. Bennet," replied his wife, "how can you be so tiresome! You must know that I am thinking of his marrying one of them."

"Is that his design in settling here?"

"Design! nonsense, how can you talk so! But it is very likely that he may fall in love with one of them, and therefore you must visit him as soon as he comes."

Don’t cha wish your girlfriend was hot like me?
Don’t cha wish your girlfriend was a freak like me?(like me)
Don’t cha (Don’t cha baby)
Don’t cha
Don’t cha wish your girlfriend raw like me? (raw)
Don’t cha wish your girlfriend fun like me (big fun)
Don’t cha
Don’t cha

Keep it Real.  Peace.  DJ Neilochka – OUT!

Love Songs

September 12, 2005 / / 49 Comments

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When I was a kid going to sleepaway camp, I had a counselor named Mike.  Although I visualize him as being an adult, he was probably 16 years old.  One night, he came back to the bunk, all happy.  He had spent the evening making out with some female counselor.  He gathered all the  guys in the bunk together and imparted this wisdom that I still remember today:

"If you want to get a girl into your bed, you put on "The Best of Bread" on your tape player."

A few years later, the basketball coach of our synagogue basketball team told us this in the locker room:

"If you want to get a Jewish girl to sleep with you, play "James Taylor:  Greatest Hits" on your stereo."

In high school, I went with my friend Bobby and his uncle to a Mets game.  During the seventh inning stretch, Bobby, who was black, told me:

"If you want to do it with a black girl, you need to play "The Very Best of Marvin Gaye" on your boombox."

Bobby’s uncle overheard him and disagreed:

"Bobby, you are too young to know shit.   You want to screw a classy black woman, you put on "John Coltrane and Johnny Hartman.""

In college, the R.A. on my Freshman dorm floor, told me how to score with the college girls.

"If you want to get laid by a rich Barnard girl, you need to play Rimsky-Korsakov’s "Sheherazade" on your CD player"

When I told my roommate, he called the R.A. an old fart.

"The key is Depeche Mode’s "Music for the Masses." "  If you hear that playing, stay out of the room."

In film school, I worked as a sound operator when the Puerto Rican camera operator educated me on his culture:

"You want to get a Puerto Rican woman on top of you?   Play  Marc Anthony’s "Desde Un Principio.""

As I organize my iTunes collection, I wonder if I need to add anything to my list of essential music…?

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