Many moons ago (almost a month, I think), I saw the Gossip in concert at the Henry Fonda.  I’d seen them a few years ago in Toronto, when they were touring with my homegirls Debbie Harry and Cyndi Lauper on the True Colors tour, and I am still convinced that they are one of the best bands to see live, ever.  If you ever have the chance to see them, see them.

I was actually really uneasy when the concert started because I just wasn’t sure of what to make of the crowd.  I mean, of course there was the usual contingent of punky-queery-feministy-fatty-looking types (my people, my friends, I salute you!) but there also seemed to be a weirdly large proportion of folks who I just don’t think of as The Gossip’s audience – middle-aged dude with scrawny ingenue-types standing in front of me, I am thinking of you – and I was worried that The Gossip, who are One of My Bands That I Don’t Want Jerks to Steal had been co-opted by people who wouldn’t actually get it.  And yes, I know that this is kind of a stupid, elitist reaction, the kind of reaction that I am going to be critiquing two paragraphs down, but I am merely reporting what my gut was telling me.  But anyhow, I didn’t actually have to worry, because once the band started, the atmosphere in the crowd was just so positive and ecstatic that it seemed like everybody got it.  It’s a testament to what an amazing band The Gossip are that they were able to really mobilize such a seemingly disparate crowd.  And I loved that Beth Ditto seemed to be speaking to everybody in the room on a certain level, but also gave some totally rad Riot Grrl shoutouts (a mashup of Listen Up! and Bikini Kill’s I Hate Danger, and a story about touring with Sleater-Kinney) that made me (and probably lots of old fans) feel all special and stuff.

And musically, The Gossip were so on top of their game.  Beth claimed to have a sore throat, but she sang right through it in a way that I’d never heard anyone manage before, and let me tell you: going through four years of opera school, I heard a lot of people sing through a lot of sore throats.  The instrumentals were sparkling and clear, and it was just an amazing, fun performance.

I’ve been thinking a lot about this most recent Gossip album lately, and, in particular, about how it’s been received.  Reviews have been kind of all over the map, but a lot of them have been less than favorable.  There’s a common narrative of underground-band-makes-good-sells-out that keeps surfacing, usually not in explicit terms, but through statements about the album being “too polished,” “too much like every other dance rock band,”  and even too “dippy.”  There is, of course, a very strongly gendered discourse at the heart of these kinds of arguments; a discourse that positions pop as effeminate and commercial, and rock and punk as masculine and subversive.  I find it pretty compelling, then, that The Gossip have titled the album Music for Men, which, in this context, reads as an ironic jab at the precisely the kinds of rock dudes who are likely to dismiss the album for its (fabulous) disco pedigree.  I feel like The Gossip knew what people would say about this record, and they are laughing at the people who are saying it.

My favorite track on Music for Men is Four Letter Word.  It’s dark, it’s sparse, it’s minimalistic, and the characteristic Ditto howl is really in top form.  And it’s just so broody.  God bless the dark and broody.

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And, oh, wouldn’t I love the chance to be Beth Ditto’s stylist.  Truth be told, her particular aesthetic is not necessarily for me – I could never pull off the neo-new wave look that she does, and my own sartorial inclinations lie a little earlier, mostly between 1957 and 1966 – but, damn, she’s exciting to look at.  So, for a dark, minimalistic, punk rock disco track, I would strongly advocate for this dress, which is not vintage, but is vintagey-looking, and I think is probably located smack in the center of the Venn diagram of my fashion sense and Beth Ditto’s fashion sense, and which I secretly covet:

And it would have to be paired with the John Fluevog bondgirls*, which I also secretly covet:

*Yes, I am recommending yet another pair of Fluevogs.  Because, honestly, are there other shoes in the world?  Ones worth wearing, I mean.

I wasn’t intending to write about this song, but since I’ve listened to it approximately 17 times today I thought maybe I’d better:

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So, this is P.P. Arnold, who released the first recording of The First Cut is the Deepest (written, of course by Mr. Cat Stevens) and holy fuck, it puts everyone else who has ever recorded this to shame (not naming names, or anything).  Like, honestly, I had always thought that this song was pretty insipid and annoying until I heard this version of it.

P.P. Arnold, who I’m really shamefully unfamiliar with at this point, was an Ikette (yay!) and had a fairly substantial career in Britain, by all accounts.  Hung out with the Rolling Stones and Bowie and stuff.  If she continues to be this awesome, she might just find her way into a certain dissertation that is currently in the process of being plotted.

So, this song is in the Girl Group hatbox, which I’ve owned for a couple of months, but it is fairly characteristic of my listening habits that I didn’t find this song until today.  I tend to fixate on songs and listen to them on repeat for days at at time, to the exclusion of all others, and I’ve sort of been haphazardly meandering through the hat box  in that way.  But I think this track is just SO GOOD.  So good.  For so many reasons.

First of all, P.P.’s vocals.  They’re kind of imperfect, no?  She sounds a bit tired, there’s a lot of breath around her voice in some places, she drops final consonants all over the place.  At the same time, she’s got this timbral quality that sounds kind of young.  For me, anyhow, the effect is one of premature world-weariness, which I’m in love with.  And the opening verse over that ringing arpeggiated accompaniment is so gorgeous – I love how she plays with the timing in the vocal line.

And also the orchestration!  It is like a smorgasbord  of awesome.  Like, is that a celesta? (NO IT IS NOT:  my roommate has pointed out that it is obviously just a harp, which is of course true.  Point of fact:  given the choice, I will assume that any given sound is being made by the least likely musical instrument out of all available options because I enjoy complicating things.  Dear hopes of a future career in musicology:  I’m sorry.)  And also there is brass.  And strings.  And an amazing bass line.  And ghostly, barely there backup singers.

So, ok, I will stop totally geeking out over how happy this song makes me now.  Inspired by this (really great) live performance, in which P.P. Arnold is wearing a go-go dress and what appears to be a giant tie, here is what you should wear when you listen to this:

Cuter and more practical than an actual giant tie, from Light Years Vintage.

And this dress would look so good with these amazing, amazing boots!  Amazing!

from Nineteen Vintage.