humor – Page 6 – Brian Ferrari's Blog

Madame Spivy’s Tarantella

Ladies and Gentleman, I’d like to reintroduce you to someone you should know (if you saw my earlier post about her): the late, great Madame Spivy LeVoe (1906-1971), also known simply as Spivy. A lesbian entertainer, nightclub owner and character actress, Spivy has been described as “The Female Noel Coward” – to which I add “…. if he was born Bertha Levine in Brooklyn.”

Spivy owned a chic NYC piano bar called Spivy’s Roof, which was on the top floor of a building that still stands at the corner of Fifty-Seventh Street & Lexington Avenue. Notable performers through its 11 year existence included Mabel Mercer, Thelma Carpenter and Martha Raye as well as early performances by Liberace and Paul Lynde.

Here is Paul Lynde talking about Spivy on the Tonight Show with Johnny Carson, April 30, 1976:

“I played another club – Spivy’s Roof. Do you remember Spivy’s? It was a penthouse club and it was very, very “in” when it was hot. Well… I closed it. I closed Spivy’s. I really did. I was the last person to perform there and as I said it was up on top of the roof. And Spivy and I would be sitting back in the corner all alone and we’d hear the elevator and she’d say “Get your props, you’re on!” And I would get my props out… and it was just the elevator man… he was lonely and wanted to talk to us…. or the landlord trying to collect the rent.

“It was just incredible and you know Spivy… when we did have people, like on the weekend… I would announce her after I was through and she’d run in the john and lock herself in there until the club closed. She never would come on. She would as soon as the club closed … and Judy Garland and Martha Raye and Judy Holliday… they used to come in and Spivy would entertain all night long for them…. but she would not for the audience.

“Finally one night I went to work and the piano was down on the sidewalk under the canopy so I knew it was over.”

I previously posted her song The Alley Cat. Today we have The Tarantella – both such short recordings that they fit on the same side of a 78 record as part of her 1939 album Seven Gay Sophisticated Songs. This is one of the few compositions credited solely to Spivy.

The Tarantella

Oh she did the tarantella with a colorful umbrella and in her hat, she wore a quill.
She dressed up like a fella in a suit of real bright yellow just to give the audience a thrill.
She would prance in her dance with the chance that her pants wouldn’t stand the strain.
She would fall into splits ‘til the folks lost their wits and cried “Again! Another refrain!”

Her coattails she would swish up and they said she shocked the bishop
But the bishop said “Oh no.”
She may be slightly vicious but her footwear is delicious, why it makes me shout “Bravo!”
I shall not leave this place until three times more at least she will
Do the tarantella with that colorful umbrella and in her hat, that darling quill.

Oh she did the tarantella with a colorful umbrella and in her hat, she wore a quill.
She dressed up like a fella in a suit of real bright yellow just to give the audience a thrill.
She would prance in her dance with the chance that her pants wouldn’t stand the strain.
She would fall into splits ‘til the folks lost their wits and cried “Again! Another refrain!”

________________________________________________________

That goddamn quill. It always surprises me to hear swearing on a 78 record. Even light swearing. It’s not as if she dropped an F-bomb. But we are so used to the sanitized Hollywood version of the 1930’s that it is easy to forget that curse words were not invented in the 1960’s. It’s not the last expletive that we will hear from Madame Spivy, as future posts will show…

All our Spivy posts:
A Tropical Fish
Auntie’s Face
100% American Girls
The Alley Cat
I Brought Culture To Buffalo In The 90s
I Didn’t Do A Thing Last Night
Why Don’t You?
I Love Town
Madame Spivy: Movies & Television
Madame Spivy on the Good Time Sallies Podcast

Spivy Manchurian Candidate — *No quill in her hat: Madame Spivy in* The Manchurian Candidate *(1962)*

Your Halloween 60’s Girl Group Playlist

It’s hard to believe that it has been 10 years since I put this Halloween show together for 60 Degrees wi Brian Ferrari, my weekly radio show focusing on “60’s chicks and girl groups – the hidden gems, cult favorites and unreleased obscurities of the decade.” The show ran for five years (2008-2013) on East Village Radio, a storefront internet radio station in New York City. This Halloween episode was originally broadcast on October 27, 2008 and aired every Halloween for the duration of the run. As with every episode, the songs were interspersed with vintage commercials, sound effects and movie clips.

In this very special episode, we’ve got soul witches, rockabilly rabble-rousers, death discs, horror movie theme songs, science fiction sirens, girls driven to madness by love and more dead boyfriends than you can shake a broomstick at. Plus a whole lot more!

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Part 1:

Reparata & the Delrons – Panic
Babs Tino – Dr. Jeckyll and Mr. Hyde
Sparkle Moore – Skull & Crossbones
Wanda Jackson – Riot In Cellblock 9
Southern Culture On The Skids – Torture
France Gall – Frankenstein
The Crystals – Frankenstein Twist
Hayley Mills – Jimmy Bean
Claudine Clark – Walking Through A Cemetery
The Sham-ettes – Hey There Big Bad Wolf

Part 2:

Hayley Mills – Cranberry Bog
The Shangri-La’s – Give Us Your Blessing
The Satisfactions – Daddy You Just Gotta Let Him In
The Goodees – Condition Red
The Nu-Luvs – So Soft, So Warm (Dressed In Black)
The Whyte Boots (Lori Burton) – Nightmare
Glenda Collins – It’s Hard To Believe It
Judy Garland – Purple People Eater
The Kane Triplets – Theme From Mission Impossible
Tracy – Strange Love
Mikki Young – Who Killed Teddy Bear?
Patti Seymour – The Silencer
Josie Cotton – Maneaters (Get Off The Road)

Part 3:

Janie Jones – Witches Brew
Martha & The Vandellas – Mobile Lil The Dancing Witch
Bettye Lavette – Witchcraft In The Air
Erma Franklin – Abracadabra
Dusty Springfield – Spooky
Marie Applebee – The Boy Who Took My Heart (took my mind)
The Love Chain – The Love Chain
Peggy Lee – The Case of M.J.
Janie Jones – Psycho
The Martin Sisters – Mother Mother (I Feel Sick)
Julie Budd – All’s Quiet On West 23^rd St.
Gayle Haness – Johnny Ander
The Indigos – He’s Coming Home
Cass Elliott – The Costume Ball
Teacho & The Students – Chills & Fever
Dusty Springfield – Haunted

You can now hear this episode on Mixcloud:

10 Forgotten Cher Moments

Comedian Frank DeCaro recently tweeted: I’m convinced Cher gave us the Dancing Queen album so we could get through the Kavanaugh hearings.

I was intrigued with this album concept from the moment it was announced: Cher covering ABBA. Two great tastes that taste great together. I put it on my Christmas wish list. But after the album’s release last week, a wave of raves washed across my very gay Facebook newsfeed. So I purchased it and, I must say…. listening to this album makes me downright giddy. It’s the perfect antidote to 2018: Chicken soup for the ears, if you will.

Dancing Queen scored an A- minus from Entertainment Weekly and is likely to debut atop the Billboard album charts later this week. Reminder: Cher is 72 years old. This is 20 years after the #1 success of Believe, which was considered to be an impossibly late career comeback at that time.

This seemed like a good time to have a look at some of the forgotten moments of Cher’s fifty-fucking-five year career.

Let’s face it – some things are not remembered because they are just not very good. But there will always be some uber-fan in the comments section that will argue that Cher has never had a bad moment, EVER and you can go to HELL if you disagree.

Also – some critical or commercial failures do fare better when viewed through the lens of time. So let’s not categorize the following examples as good or bad… just… worth a mention.

Like this outfit.

1) Bittersweet White Light (1973)– In certain circles, this LP is considered a camp classic. It’s up to you to decide if you belong in that camp. If you want to hear Cher tackle an Al Jolson medley and other American songbook standards while wading through a muddy, dated Sonny Bono production, look no further! Although her vocal rage had expanded since the 1960’s, she was still partially stuck in her honking Dylan-by-way-of-Sonny-style of singing. Compare her vocals here to anything she has recorded in the past two decades: Vocoder and pitch correction aside, her range now – vocally, stylistically, dramatically – is a world away from her own limitations 40+ years ago.

2) A Woman’s Story / Baby I Love You (1974) Cher reunited with producer Phil Spector for this single, which has never appeared on any Cher LP or compilation. The A-side was written by Spector with brother / sister duo Nino Tempo & April Stevens. Soft Cell’s Marc Almond covered this with a spot-on Cher imitation that few realized because the original was so obscure.

The B-side is a cover of the Ronettes classic – Cher sang backing vocals on the 1963 original. Here, the song is slowed down to a snail’s pace while ramping up the bombast that you would expect from a Spector production. I won’t argue the pros and cons of this venture – some think it’s brilliant, while Ronnie Spector reports that John Lennon referred to it as proof that Phil had gone ‘round the bend.

3) Cherished (1977) – Cher’s last Snuff Garrett-produced LP continued in the storytelling style of their earlier #1 hits Dark Lady and Half Breed. But by 1977, both Cher and the pop music world had moved on. Like her other mid-70’s solo LPs, this album never charted and has never been released on CD. Cher reportedly owns the rights and has no plans to re-release them.

4) Black Rose (1980) People forget that Cher is a rock chick at heart. She seems to have made peace with dance music now, but in 1980 she was bristling under the disco material she was recording for Casablanca records. Cher formed and fronted Black Rose, a punkish indie rock band with then boyfriend/guitarist Les Dudek. Casablanca released one LP – it was neither a critical or commercial success and closed out her tenure at the record label.

5) Cher & Meat Loaf: Dead Ringer For Love (1981): From Mr. Loaf’s follow up to the hugely successful Bat Out Of Hell LP. This duet was a moderate chart hit in other countries, but inexplicably not released as a single in the U.S. If you want to hear Cher take part in the trademark aural excesses of a Jim Steinman production, here it is.

6) I Paralyze (1982) Continuing her early 80’s musical slump, this sole LP for Columbia records was a flop. New Wave Cher didn’t translate well to the current pop market. She then focused on her acting career for the next 5 years before resurfacing with 1987’s self-titled comeback LP. At the time it seemed like she had been gone for much longer, since her early 80’s material had all gone largely unnoticed. Here she is on American Bandstand:

7) Come Back To The Five And Dime, Jimmy Dean Jimmy Dean (1982) – Robert Altman directed this low-budget movie version of the Broadway play, which he also directed with the same cast. Cher co-starred with Karen Black, Sandy Dennis and a young Kathy Bates. While not commercially successful, people did sit up and take notice of her acting chops. Surprisingly, the whole movie is on YouTube, but skip to 1.29 if you want to watch her character’s heartbreaking meltdown.

8) Not.com.mercial CD (1994/2000) – In 1994, Cher attended a songwriter’s workshop that garnered an album’s worth of songs that she had co-written. The resulting album was subsequently rejected by her record label as “Nice, but not commercial.” Cher held on to it for 6 years before releasing it with little fanfare via the internet during her post-Believe renaissance. At the time, she said “I think that the internet is a place that at least it doesn’t infringe on anyone else’s life and if you want to go there you can go there and check it out, and if you don’t want to be bothered by it you don’t even have to know it’s in the universe” Reviews were generally favorable.

9) Walking in Memphis (1995) – When the record company rejected Cher’s songwriter LP, she returned the following year with It’s A Man’s World, about which she told the Advocate “I don’t know. It’s kind of good. It doesn’t suck.” The standout track is her cover of Marc Cohn’s signature song. A modest success in Europe and the UK, it sank without a trace in the U.S. It should have been a hit, with a music video featuring Cher in Elvis drag. Cher liked the video so much, it was played in its entirety on the big screen during her live shows for years after. Take that, bitches.

10) Faithful (1996) – Director Paul Mazursky’s final film – written by Chazz Palmienteri based on his stage play. This was the end of Cher’s A-list Hollywood film career – whether it was the cause or she purposely walked away is debatable. In any case, the film was a commercial failure – criticized for not translating well to the big screen. A charming LA Times review also said “she’s had so much cosmetic surgery, you can’t get through a single close-up without marveling at the cadaverous mask she has become.” Which… by the way… have you seen Palmienteri lately? But I digress: It’s a pretty good movie that is definitely worth revisiting.

BONUS: Don’t Come Crying To Me (1991/1999)

Originally recorded during the Heart Of Stone album sessions, the song was unreleased until 1999, when it was remixed and included in first pressings of If I Could Turn Back Time: Cher’s Greatest Hits. The song was later removed, at Cher’s request. In any case, it’s a favorite of mine.

Madame Spivy’s Alley Cat

Ladies and Gentleman, I’d like to introduce you to a long lost lady of song that you should know: the late, great Madame Spivy LeVoe (1906-1971), also known simply as Spivy. A lesbian entertainer, nightclub owner and character actress, Spivy has been described as “The Female Noel Coward” – to which I would add “…. if he was born Bertha Levine in Brooklyn.”

In the 1930’s, the former Ms. Levine entertained as a singer/pianist in the back room at Tony’s, a Fifty-Second Street speakeasy and celebrity hot spot. In 1939, the New York Times wrote that “Spivy’s material, witty, acid, and tragicomic, is better than most of the essays one hears about town, and her delivery is that of a sophisticated artist on her own grounds. She knows the value of surprise in punching a line, she uses understatement unerringly, and her piano accompaniment is superb.”

In the summer of 1940, Spivy opened her own chic piano bar, Spivy’s Roof, on the top floor of a building at the corner of Fifty-Seventh Street & Lexington Avenue. Notable performers through its 11 year existence included Mabel Mercer, Thelma Carpenter and Martha Raye as well as early performances by Liberace and Paul Lynde. Spivy’s Roof makes an appearance in the seminal book Gay New York and pops up in several memoirs and biographies of performers, artists and notable society personalities of that era.

Writer Ignacio Schwartz fondly recalls visits to Spivy’s Roof when he was a Holden Caulfield-esque 16 year old boarding school student seeking adventure in New York:

She was a plump lady (one writer said that she was “squat like a bulldog.”) She wore her hair in a tight pompadour with a white streak down the middle. She would place a tall glass of what was probably chilled gin on the piano before her. During her time on stage, she would drain a couple, but her singing — her low, throaty voice — would always be perfect.

The one (song) I remember best of all is The Alley Cat. I cannot for the life of me remember more than a couple of lines of Hamlet that I was taught in that Prussian military school. I still have trouble remembering which novels were written by the Brontë sisters and the ones that came from the pen of Jane Austen. But to this day I can recite most of the words of The Alley Cat, along with the intonations, the riffs (and the pauses for laughs) exactly as it has been tricked away in my memory-bag for the last fifty years.

“The Alley Cat”, which Spivy co-wrote with Jill Rainsford, was a staple from her live show and recorded for her 78 album Seven Gay Sophisticated Songs (1939).

Here’s a video that I put together with lyrics included:

The Alley Cat

On the 14th floor of a walk-up flat, I used to keep an alley cat.
Each night I’d walk him down the stair, and waited while he got the air.
He grew up fast and developed a yen, no sooner was he in than he was out again.
I hated to spoil his fun, but I knew what must be done.

So I called the cat and he staggered home, with a ragged ear and a broken dome
But I knew he felt like hell that day, so I spoke to him this way:
Is it worth it? For that momentary something to yowl around til neighbors call the cops?
Is it worth it? For that momentary something to have nine hundred kittens call you “Pop”?

You’ve been an awful wild cat – you should welcome a vacation.
Just to sit around and brood and think about your operation.
I’ll give you one more night out to complete your education
Then the sheltered life is good enough for you.

I took him to the vet and had his profile bobbed, and when he sat down he said, ‘Hell, I’ve been robbed!’
He went out that night but came right home to bed, and the look on his face was a scream as he said:
“Well, you’ve done it. Now the operation’s over, I’ll never be the same, it seems so strange, but you’ve done it.
Now the operation’s over, no longer will I take chances with the mange.

I had so many wives, I didn’t know where I was at.
But since my change of scenery all the girl cats holler ‘Scat!’
I pass them by and hear them cry; ‘There goes that pansy cat.’
But the sheltered life is good enough for me.”

Spivy 7gay copy — *Spivy photograph by Carl Van Vechten (1944)*

Spivy recorded approximately 15 of her most popular songs. Some she co-wrote with Rainsford, others with lyricist John LaTouche. None of these recordings – originally issued on 78 record albums between 1939-1949 – were ever reissued in any format. I am slowly uploading them to YouTube and will dole them out along with other Spivy tidbits in the future.

In the meantime, if you are so inclined, check out the Queer Music Heritage website , which has a lot of information on Spivy, although the site is rather antiquated and some browsers won’t support it…. If you choose to heed the “unsecure site” warnings and avoid it… then the sheltered life is good enough for you.

Don Herron’s Tub Shots

A recent Out Magazine article about Felice Picano featured a 1980 photograph of the author lounging in his bathtub with a cigarette and a glass of wine. I immediately recognized the photo as one of Don Herron’s Tub Shots, a series that the photographer snapped over a 20 year period, spanning from San Francisco to New York and covering a wide swath of his legendary friends, lovers and fellow artists.

Don Herron (1941-2012) was living in San Francisco in the early 1970’s when he began shooting the bathtub photos, having been inspired by medieval sculptures set in niches. Herron told the Village Voice in 1980, “I decided to do a series of photographs of people in containers. The bathtub was the logical container to use. I started with my friends and it grew from there.”

He continued the series after moving to New York City in 1978, where he was a part of the vibrant East Village art scene. Among the many who posed on the porcelain for Herron: Keith Haring, Peter Hujar, Robert Mapplethorpe, Annie Sprinkle, Peter Berlin, Ethyl Eichelberger, Michael Musto, Phoebe Legere, John Waters’ leading ladies Mink Stole and Cookie Mueller as well as Warhol factory superstars Jackie Curtis, Taylor Mead, and Holly Woodlawn. The Tub Shots were featured in the Village Voice, New York Magazine, Christopher Street and Art Forum.

My first encounter with the photos were a couple of postcards I picked up in an East Village shop back in the late 1980’s. I had just finished reading David Kopay’s autobiography and was quite happy to see (almost) all of the gay footballer on display. Another card I purchased was of a director named Robert Schifflett, about whom I know nothing other than the charms on exhibit in the photo and his ability to hold his breath.

Recalling his bathtub session with Herron and the noir photo it produced, performer Charles Busch recently said “My crummy 12^th Street tenement tub amazingly looks kinda glam. If memory serves, after we called it a wrap I believe the charming photographer ended up in the tub with me. I think so.”

Another subject was artist Mel Odom, whom I recently asked about the experience.

“George Stavrinos dared me to do it;” he said “But I’ve never seen one of him!”

“Don did two shoots with me – the first one was without the mask. He wasn’t satisfied with that and we did a second shoot. He was probably right.”

“My parents didn’t know that I had posed nude and it was published in the Village Voice just as I went home to visit them in Ahoskie, North Carolina… and there was the issue sitting on their friend’s coffee table!” Odom managed to pilfer the newspaper and, as far as he knows, his parents never found out about the photo.

Odom’s Tub Shot was also reprinted as a full page when the series was profiled in the April, 1980 issue of Christopher Street. When I mentioned the postcard series that was my introduction to the photos, he recalled “Mine wasn’t used for the postcards because I received weird phone calls after it was printed in the magazines. ‘Hey! Are you naked like you were in the Village Voice?’ I got letters from prisoners, too.”

Here’s the Village Voice feature from April, 1980:

I still have the Kopay and Shifflett postcards I bought 30 years ago. Every once in a while, I Google around looking for other Tub Shots online. With the exception of the Mapplethorpe and Haring photos below, they are fairly obscure in the digital age.

Random pics pop up on Pinterest – this one of Ethyl Eichelberger, for example – but I have not found any online collections.

When Herron passed away a few years ago, his ex-lover, artist Adam Donaldson Powell paid tribute to him here. Herron’s estate has created a Tub Shots website but there is currently no content.

That might be about to change. Daniel Cooney Fine Art will be exhibiting 65 of these photos at their gallery in New York City from September 13 until November 3, 2018. Interested viewers may contact the gallery for reservations via phone at 212-255-8158, via email dan@danielcooneyfineart.com or give them a visit at 508-526 West 26^th St., #9C, NY NY.

Gimme Gimme Gimme… Erasure Covering ABBA

When Cher’s cover of ABBA’s “Gimme Gimme Gimme (A Man After Midnight)” was released earlier this month and immediately mashed-up with Madonna’s song “Hung Up”, one Facebook friend declared that the result was “gay ground zero”. To this I meekly respond… “….but what about Erasure’s cover of ‘Gimme Gimme Gimme‘? Cuz, ya know… lead singer Andy Bell is actually… gay?”

Erasure’s version first appeared in 1986 as a B-side of their third single, “Oh L’Amour”, a modest chart hit at the time that has proven to be one of the band’s signature songs.

Trying to keep track of Erasure’s discography takes more time than anyone but the most devoted fan has to offer. Album track listings vary on different releases throughout the world, not to mention multiple reissues and bonus editions. As far as I know, this original version of “Gimme Gimme Gimme” was never included on any of their official album releases, although there was a remix on a 2011 Wonderland double-CD reissue and a live version was included on Two Ring Circus.

It was also a staple in their live act in the 1980’s – there are several versions on concert DVD releases, some with Andy singing a few a capella bars from ABBA’s “Money Money Money” before launching into “Gimme Gimme Gimme”.

ABBA sure loved repeat-word song titles, didn’t they? Well “Honey, Honey”, I’m not sure “I Do I Do I Do I Do I Do”. But anyway…

I was an ABBA fan from childhood and got into Erasure as a teen, when Andy Bell was one of the few out gay singers. Most gay singers at that time still chose to remain coy in their lyrics – Boy George would tumble for “you” rather than “him.” Frankie might say “Relax” but not “when HE wants to come.” Erasure singing “Gimme Gimme Gimme (A Man After Midnight)” was quite a revelation to my 18-year-old gay self. Covering a song without changing the gender in the lyric is done more frequently now – often just to be provocative. In the 1980’s? Not so much.

I remember playing the song in my freshman dorm room (vinyl on a record player, thank you very much) while my straight but artistic roommate came to the realization that the androgynous singer pleading for a man after midnight was a dude. Towards the end of this version, the song builds as the tempo speeds up … and up… and up…with Andy Bell imploring “Gimme. GimmeGimme….” Well. I thought my roomie’s Depeche-Mode-lovin’ head just might explode.

ABBA had not experienced any kind of renaissance at this point. They were a 70’s relic, prone to ridicule like Saturday Night Fever or Donny and Marie. Most of their LP catalogue was out of print. If you had their old albums, you certainly did not bring them to college. It wasn’t until the 1990’s that the group would have wave after wave of resurgences – ironic or otherwise.

1992 saw the release of Erasure’s ABBA-eque EP – a collection of 4 ABBA covers that hit #1 on the UK charts. Unfortunately, “Gimme Gimme Gimme” was not a part of this collection, which featured “SOS”, “Lay All Your Love On Me”, “Take A Chance On Me” and “Voulez-Vous”. The video for “Take A Chance…” had Vince Clarke and Andy Bell in and out of drag, playing all 4 member of ABBA.

The ABBA Gold greatest hits came out later in 1992 and never stopped selling…. followed by the film Muriel’s Wedding in 1994…

… and then came the A*Teens, the stage musical Mamma Mia, the movie(s)… and the rest is history.

So maybe Erasure had a part in ABBA’s renaissance. Or maybe they just caught the first wave. In any case, their version of “Gimme Gimme Gimme” deserves a listen. Maybe someone will mash them up with Cher AND Madonna for the ultimate gay apocalypse.

Oh! And while Andy Bell was often the one running around scantily clad onstage, here’s a NSFW pic of Vince Clarke from photographer Rankin’s book Male Nudes. Gimme Gimme indeed.

Revisiting Kate Bush’s Gayest Songs

Here’s something for you to chew on: Madonna and Kate Bush are the same age. I always have trouble reconciling this – they never seemed to exist on the same planet, let alone at the same time, but it’s true – The Material Girl and our ethereal goddess have both turned 60 this month. I have always been a fan of both of them and am not here to put down one over the other. I love them for different reasons – to hold one up to the other would be like comparing apples and umami. Diversity among the divas, right?

Madge has garnered plenty of press upon turning 60, so I wanted to focus on Kate, specifically her early gay-centric songs. Two appeared on her second LP, Lionheart, which came out 40 years ago this November – another number I can’t quite wrap my head around. Lionheart may be her least-known LP, rushed out just 9 months after her acclaimed debut, The Kick Inside. Many of the songs were written by Kate throughout her teens, including “Kashka From Baghdad” and “Wow”.

Prone to obscure literary inspiration, Kate would (often reluctantly) explain the origins of her lyrics by vaguely pointing the listener in the right direction and allowing them to fill in the blanks for themselves. “Kashka From Baghdad” is not a song that needs much explanation. The opening line:

Kashka from Baghdad lives in sin they say / With another man / But no one knows who

Kate sings the song from the perspective of a person watching their shadows “Tall and slim in the window opposite /  I long to be with them.”

The chorus, if you can call it that, is: At night they’re seen / Laughing, loving / They know the way / To be happy

Awfully progressive for a catholic teen writing songs in the mid-70’s British suburbs, don’t you think?

“Kashka From Baghdad” is one of Kate’s forgotten early songs – overlooked in favor of all the brilliance that came after. On the other hand, every Kate Bush compilation contains the song “Wow”, which became her third UK top 20 hit song. “‘Wow’ is about the music business,” she said at the time. “Not just rock music but show business in general, including acting and theatre.” Fill in the blanks yourself.

In the book Kate Bush, A Visual Documentary, authors Kevin Cann & Sean Mayes go a bit further in explaining the lyrics: “… people working together hype each other’s spirits up with their enthusiasm and admiration. But as most performers know this can be deceptive – ‘still we don’t head the bill.’ And this actor has a problem: many successful performers are gay, but some are too gay – ‘He’ll never make the Sweeney (a popular UK TV program at the time), be that movie queen. He’s too busy hitting the vaseline.’ For many gay actors, there is no place in the mainstream – we’ll call you – ‘but don’t hold your breath.'”

In the original video for the song, Kate punctuates the ‘hitting the vaseline’ line with a pat on the bum, which was suggestive enough to get the video censored by the BBC.

There is a song called “Moving” on Kate’s first LP that was written about Lindsay Kemp, her dance teacher and mentor. Kemp was/is an openly gay dancer/actor/mime, a highly influential British artist who was involved personally and professionally with David Bowie. He staged and performed in the Ziggy Stardust stage show among many other acclaimed theatrical productions with his own dance company.

“I couldn’t believe how strongly Lindsay communicates with people without even opening his mouth;” Kate said in a 1979 interview. “It was incredible, he had the whole audience in his control, just with his little finger. And it was amazing. I’d never seen anything like it, I really hadn’t. And I felt if it was possible to combine that strength of movement with the voice, then maybe it would work, and that’s what I’ve tried to do.”

I’m not going to pretend to know how vigorously Kemp pursued a film career, but a glance at the IMDB shows a list of film roles that seldom had character names: Pantomime Dame, Jester, Cabaret Performer …

“We’d give you a part, my love, but you’d have to play the fool….”

Well, she did give him a part. In 1993, Kate cast Kemp in his biggest film role costarring with her and Miranda Richardson in The Line, The Cross and the Curve.

Here’s wishing Kate a Happy 60th Birthday. I still hope that she might bring her triumphant 2016 stage show to Broadway for a limited run. We shall see. Whatever her next move, oooh yeah… it’ll be amazing.

You Know The B-52’s Song Roam Is About Butt Sex, Right?

A couple of months ago, the internet burst into flames when Bunny Wailer, songwriter of “The Electric Slide”, confirmed rumors that the song is indeed about a vibrator. (It’s electric!).

An article on the Aazios site quoted him as saying that he wrote the song after a girlfriend told him she didn’t need him because she had a toy she nicknamed the “electric slide”. The story went viral.

Singer Marcia Griffiths was not happy about it. “I don’t sing about vibrators,” she said. “I sing to teach, educate and uplift.”

“Why not both?” I say.

Huffpost, which initially reposted the Aazios story, then printed an update that it was not true… noting, apropos of nothing, that Aazios is “an online source of LGBTQ news and entertainment” – as if that had anything to do with Bunny Wailer, the vibrator, or the validity of the story.

Snopes has labeled the story FALSE with a quote from Bunny Wailer that reads like a statement issued by a lawyer protecting a client from litigation: “At no time have I ever lent credence to a rumor that the song was inspired by anything other than Eddie Grant’s “Electric Avenue“. To state otherwise is a falsehood and offends my legacy, the legacy of singer Marcia Griffiths, and tarnishes the reputation of a song beloved by millions of fans the world over.”

The problem is… he wrote the song in the 1970’s, years before Eddie Grant’s 1982 hit. The song was dusted off and reworked to ride the “Electric” coattails of that hit record. And thirty-five years later, it is still a dance floor staple at a certain calibre of venue. It is understandable that someone who still makes money off this record does not want to suddenly admit that their cash cow is about a dildo.

Bottom line: Either it is or it isn’t. But moving forward, you have a topic of conversation to yell over your 9th cocktail while your mom and Karen from finance are knocking into each other on the dance floor.

So… now can we talk about The B-52’s 1989 hit song “Roam“? You know that it’s about butt sex, right?

Of course, nobody is going to step up and confirm this now. The B-52’s still make a nice living touring the world performing “Roam” along with party classics like “Rock Lobster“ and “Love Shack“. One song they haven’t performed in years is “Dirty Back Road“, a track from their 1980 Wild Planet LP. Co-written by a guy named Robert Waldrop with band member Ricky Wilson, it’s not that much of a stretch to figure out what this little ditty is about:

Wreckless driving / Like a sports car / God I want you / Like a fuel engine / Energized line / Like a road / You ride me / Like a road / You ride me / Foot on the peddle / Feet in the air / Sand in my hair / Don’t look back / Don’t look behind you / Reckless drivin’ on / Dirty back road

Pretty obvious, right? Well… of course not, according to YouTube comments. People will argue about anything. I know, I know. Never read the comments.

So lets move on to “Roam“: Co-written again by Robert Waldrop, this time with the surviving members of the band. Ricky Wilson had passed away from AIDS complications in 1985 during the recording of the Bouncing Off The Satellites LP. After taking a few years off, the band came back in 1989 with the LP Cosmic Thing, which would be their biggest commercial success. The singles “Love Shack” and “Roam” topped the charts around the world and still get regular airplay today.

When did I realize that “Roam“ was about butt sex? I couldn’t say. I just always knew. I saw Robert Waldrop’s name in the cassette booklet, read the lyrics to “Roam“ and thought “Look at that. He cleaned up ‘Dirty Back Road‘.” Well, not completely – the second line has them “dancing down those dirty and dusty trails.” It may not be as blatant, but it’s there.

The phrase “Take it hip to hip rock it through the wilderness” is repeated about a dozen times throughout the song.

The chorus: Roam if you want to / Roam around the world / Without wings without wheels / Roam around the world / Without anything but the love we feel…

And then there’s this verse:

Hit the air-strip to the sunset / Ride the arrow to the target / Take it hip to hip rock it through the wilderness / Around the world the trip begins with a kiss

(at this point in the video, a banana goes through a hole in a bagel)

I would like to make it clear that I do not make these pronouncements as some sort of slander. Believe me, I am a big fan of butt sex and partake as often as possible.

In posting this piece, I realize that there are people who will get annoyed or upset that their favorite B-52’s hit is all about taking a ride on the Hershey highway, but really… if you think this is shocking or not possibly true then you never really understood the band and/or their sense of humor in the first place. People who only know them from Top 40 radio might not remember that they were/are a predominantly gay party band. They were messy, subversive and more than just a little punk. Fun punk.

If a clueless fan does not know that, it is akin to saying that you love John Waters because of the films Hairspray and Cry Baby, but have never seen Pink Flamingos or Female Trouble.

Like many other bands before or since, the B-52’s started out edgy and moved towards mainstream pop as their career progressed. While their current tour does pull heavily from their first two LPs, their bread and butter is still playing the hit songs. They are a business – not so much a band as a corporation like their contemporaries The Go-Go’s and Blondie.

Even if the B-52’s issued a statement today that Roam never was or is about getting popped in the pooper, the motivation would not be to tell the truth, but rather to protect their own livelihood. Case in point: The Village People, Inc. When faced with anti-gay protests for a gig in Jamaica back in 1998, their representative had the balls to issue a statement that there was nothing gay about them. The fucking Village People, people. I would like to think that the B-52’s are still way too cool to ever do such a thing.

So… I just thought you ought to know. Roam is about takin’ it up the ass. And now you have a topic of conversation when you hear it wafting over the airwaves at the supermarket or when you are in line at the bank. I am not going to debate the evidence. It is what it is. I think it’s a hoot – it makes me chuckle whenever I hear it. But if you feel a strong opposition to the theory… may I invite you to hit the airstrip… and teach yourself the Electric Slide. Boogie woogie woogie.

Sunshine and Tinsel: A Canine Christmas Tail

I wrote a story/poem back in 2006 recounting an incident with the family dog when I was 4 years old. I gave copies to my family in their Christmas stockings that year. A couple of years after that when I was hosting 60 Degrees on East Village radio, I read it as part of my Holiday episode. Now it has been posted on the GoodMenProject website for this holiday season. I hope you enjoy it!

scan

‘Twas morning in the Ferrari house
two days Christmas past
Life was getting back
to normal at last

Mom’s in the kitchen
brewing a cup
Dad’s in the bathroom
shaving his scruff

I crept out of bed
little 4-year-old me
To revisit the presents
that Santa brought me

My sisters, still sleeping
they hadn’t a clue
Of the calamitous doings
about to ensue…

Our dog was named Sunshine
half beagle, at most
The other half basset hound:
Dumb as a post.

This brilliant young pup
found a holiday treat:
She thought that the tinsel
was something to eat

Soon she’d get queasy
lowered eyes to the floor
Rocking forward and backward
5 minutes or more

The “extended heave warning”
gave time to react
We’d all run for newspapers
or brown paper sacks

More often than not
we would catch her in time
Sparing our rugs
of the glittery slime

We’d gone all through Christmas
playing this game
But this morning was special
not more of the same

She had eaten more tinsel
It did not agree
There she stood: heaving
right under the tree

All of our presents
were still on display
Right where we’d opened them
on Christmas Day

I entered the room
and clearly could see
Sunshine’s next targeted
barf casualty:

My sister Jen’s brand new
Fisher Price Zoo
Was about to be covered
in silvery goo

I had to think fast:
What can I do?
I can’t let her spew
on the Animal Zoo!

I got on all fours
I crawled under the tree
Grabbed her by the collar
and led her towards me

It seemed like slow motion
but safety seemed near
I began to stand up
when I thought I was clear…

But I wasn’t.

Ornaments shattering
down came the tree
On the stomach-sick dog
and pajama-clad me

Out of the living room
there arose such a clatter
My family ran in to see
what was the matter

From under the tree
they heard screaming and crying
My mother envisioned me
bleeding or dying

Quick as a flash
my dad lifted the tree
I was curled in a ball
with the dog beside me

He started to scold me
as he always did
My mother said
“Come on! Lay off of the kid!”

Pine needles were scattered
broken bulbs, too
But I only sustained
a small scratch or two

The tree went back up
a few ornaments lighter
The rope that secured it
was fastened much tighter

My act of heroics
became quite a joke
To share with the relatives
and neighborhood folk

They would all laugh
I’d join in too
At the sacrifice made
for the Animal Zoo

With all the excitement
as best I recall…
The dog never did
get sick after all!

That’s So Gay.

Meditation On A Theme kicked off Gay Pride Month at The Center on June 2, 2017. The theme was That’s So Gay. Here’s what I had to say:

It snuck up on me recently when I wasn’t paying attention. I don’t know how this happened…. but the calendar says that I came out 30 years ago. Is this a milestone that people keep track of and celebrate? What is the anniversary stone or fiber that should be gifted in celebration of declaring yourself a homo for 30 years? Tobacco? Taffeta?

1986 thtr arts I can’t pinpoint the exact date when this occurred – I got the boyfriend and then started to come out to friends and family. It was the spring of 1987. I was 18 and a senior in high school, which was uncommonly young for people of my generation and average-to-late for younger people. A friend of mine from college now has a 10-year-old trans child. When I came out, I felt like a trailblazer. Now I feel like I wasted a few years. On the other hand, my partner Chris was a late bloomer and I don’t want to make him feel bad, so I’ll just say we all move at our own pace.

We watched the ABC miniseries When We Rise that aired in February. It didn’t get a whole lot of fanfare – people on Facebook either loved or hated it. But for Christ sake, we’re talking about a prime time 4-night miniseries on broadcast network television about the history of the gay rights movement. That’s something, right? It also helped me to dust off some cobwebs and have a look back at when I first came out. Chris is quite curious to learn about our history over the past 50 years and while he sometimes beats himself up about what he doesn’t know, I remind him that he’s a lot more knowledgeable than a lot of younger people. And when I say this, I picture some generic air-headed twink who doesn’t realize that gay history goes back further than season 1 of RuPaul’s Drag Race.

Bette Joan

This applies not just to the history of gay activism, but to gay icons and the history of camp as well. Thank god for Ryan Murphy and his FX show Feud – the younger generation has now discovered Joan Crawford and Bette Davis. I’m afraid for the moment that Garbo and Dietrich are shit out of luck.

Before

Together Chris and I have watched many of the documentaries that were integral to my coming out process and understanding of gay history. We watched the 1984 documentary Before Stonewall. I sat with my computer nearby and as each interview subject appeared onscreen (and that includes Ms. Audre Lorde herself) I would Google their names to see if they were still alive. Only one or two are left. And some of them lived to ages in their nineties, but the documentary is now 33 years old. Again, it’s just that passage of time that has gotten away from me.

I know this is going to sound ridiculous but … I forget that everyone continues getting older, even when I am not paying attention. It’s like the first time I was at a beach house in the wintertime. And I went for a walk on the beach in the snow at 4 am and I thought “My GOD! The waves are crashing on the shore all the time!” It’s one of those moments that I smack myself in the head and go … “Well, of course they do, you idiot. Of course they do.” And so… my Captain Obvious Statement of Stupidity is… time just keeps marching on. And before you know it, a generation is gone and you are moving one seat down to make room for the younger ones.

Word-is-out-1977 We watched the 1977 documentary The Word Is Out. It holds up well – this was a groundbreaking documentary for its time. There’s a remastered DVD version that I highly recommend, with updates on the cast, which had a lower mortality rate than Before Stonewall, which came years later.

HMilkPoster I noticed something interesting while revisiting these documentaries, as well as The Times of Harvey Milk. I hadn’t watched these in many many years. Certain people would appear onscreen and I would remember how I felt about them but I couldn’t remember exactly why. I’d say “Oooh I love her! Ugh I hate him.” …without remembering what it was that they were about to say or do. I started to realize that some people who rubbed me the wrong way as a 20-year-old viewer seem perfectly fine to me now that I am 48.

wordisout01 Some of it is due to a changing view on life or love or recognizing the defensive stance that previous generations might take when openly discussing their sexuality. But I also realized this: I had a low tolerance for effeminacy when I was just coming out. Yes, I was fine with being gay but I wanted to be the one to TELL you that I was gay. I didn’t want you to be able to guess. And someone who was flamboyant was not my cup of tea. I was also an actor and effeminacy was the last thing you wanted anyone to detect. AND this was during the AIDS crisis, of course, and I think that, in my not completely enlightened brain, this inability or unwillingness to hide also broadcast that you HAD it. I know how ridiculous that sounds. I would like to sit down with my younger self and talk about it.

When did this change? I assume it was gradual. But there was one moment that sprung to mind. And I had written about it in an essay called The Bus Stop back in 2005. Bush Jr. was inexplicably elected for a second term and I was feeling pretty disgusted with the conservative portion of the country that would vote for that simpleton. And then we took two steps forward, and one giant step back… and here we are… and now George W doesn’t seem like the worst choice in the world, does he?

The Bus Stop was supposed to be my first published work. It was accepted into a gay anthology that collapsed before the book made it to publication. One thing I must say before I read this: I apologize in advance for anything perceived as racially insensitive. But this is where I was at the time:

3rd ave uptown I was on my way to work one morning, waiting for the uptown bus on Third Avenue at 9^th street. It was a frigid 8 degrees that day – I was all bundled up in a hat, scarf, gloves, and bomber jacket. Nothing flamboyant. Nothing extraordinary.

I turned around and saw this 250lb black kid come out of the deli followed by his three skinny little girlfriends. They were young – probably around 13 or so. The linebacker would have passed for much older but the loud immature behavior was a dead giveaway.

third ave uptown2

He flings the door open yelling “We in the Village. The Village is gay. Let’s get out of here. Gay people live here.”

Now… to be honest, this kid seemed pretty light in his linebacker loafers. Granted, he was young, but given his size, puberty had paid a big visit. Yet, the voice was pretty high, and the inflection had those telltale signs. And here he was, hangin’ with the girls down in the Village. It was so blatantly obnoxious that I thought perhaps he already did know that he was gay and that this was some sort of a joke that he was making with his friends.

M103 bus I had only glanced over as they came out the door. I’m a New Yorker. Direct eye contact can be considered an overt act of aggression. You get used to it. So I heard these comments over my shoulder as I peered down the street, praying for the bus to come.

The behemoth continued. “This place is where gay people live. I want to get out of here. Look at him. He’s GAY.”

In an instant, I was 13 years old again on a junior high school playground. I could feel their eyes burning into the back of me. He had to be talking about me. We were alone on this stretch of street. There was nobody else he could be referring to.

The teen flashback only lasted a moment. Because I am not 13 anymore. I am in my thirties, and I am angry. My next impulse was to turn around and say… “Are you black? Do I need to point out that you are black? Yes, I’m gay. What ARE you gonna do about it?”

This didn’t seem like a smart thing to say to a brutish man-child who did not yet know his newly acquired strength. Besides, in front of his friends, he’d really have to prove himself, and he’d snap me like a twig. Or clock me over the head with his box of scam-candy.

The impulse to confront passed. I heard my mother say “Stay above it. Don’t stoop to his level.” So I did what I would have done when I was 13 years old. I ignored it. I stood there.

I started wondering what could have tipped him off. As I said, eye contact was minimal. I wasn’t even paying attention at that point. Age, gender – it didn’t matter. I started to examine my clothes. No bright colors or patterns. Too neat? I hadn’t said anything, so I can’t blame the voice. This time. I wasn’t dancing pirouettes singing show tunes. Was it my earring? The little tuft of gelled hair sticking out from under my hat? (I had more hair then. And hair products.)

Then I stopped myself. Did it matter? Why was I dissecting myself over this? So what if he could or couldn’t tell! Why SHOULD I have to cover my tracks? Why couldn’t I be a big ole fag, in 2005, waiting for a bus in Greenwich fucking Village and NOT have to worry about some dickhead whupping my ass because he couldn’t deal with his own burgeoning sexuality?

The kids were now beating the crap out of each other, smacking their drinks out of each other’s hands as they waited for the same bus that I had been praying would show up already.

bus2

Finally, it arrived. This crew pushed their way onto the bus first. I thought about waiting for the next one. But no – let them get on first and then I could make sure I sat as far from away as possible.

Surprise, surprise. Something’s wrong with gay linebacker’s bus pass. He starts arguing with the driver, and they’re all kicked off before they can even get on. As I board the bus, the driver is yelling “I’d have let you go ahead if you hadn’t mouthed off at me.”

As the bus door closed, I turned to the crew, smiled sweetly and waved my gayest little Marlo Thomas wave. That Girl really pissed them off.

that girl

The bus began to pull away, and they ran alongside screaming and giving me the finger. I returned the gesture with one hand while blowing little kisses with the other, hoping that the boy would think of this moment for a long time to come. I wanted him to remember my face, and the faces of every gay person that he had ever caused any trouble. I hoped they kept him awake at night as he tried to understand why he wanted the guy who sat next to him in English class to fuck him and why his family raised him to behave this way and why they hated what he secretly was. Alan Helms

I sat down and continued reading a book I’d started earlier in the week: Alan Helms’ memoir Young Man From The Provinces: A Gay Life Before Stonewall.

We don’t have to put up with this shit anymore.

So – that was written 12 years ago. And magically, we no longer had to put up with that shit anymore, right? Yay! Two steps forward, and hopefully now only one step back.

I just had another one of those time passage / epiphany moments, as I realized that the kids in this story are now twice as old. It was half a lifetime ago for them. They are in their 20’s now. Maybe the girls have kids. Maybe that boy was ON RuPaul’s Drag Race. Who knows? The thing is – I’m not mad anymore. I hope he sorted himself out. I hope his family doesn’t hate him. I hope he has a good support system. And I hope by now that he would want to sit down with his younger self and talk about it.

Category: humor