ITS ALL FLUFFERNUTTERS AND RAINBOWS UP IN THIS BLOG

So ok, I am sure that by now I have probably painted myself into a corner with our legions of loyal blog viewers with all my gross and unkempt metal dudes rocking hard and noisy bleep blop chugga chugga nonsense. I know that I've been a simple minded lout, all geetars and rarrglebargle, but I have a sensitive side too. I like stuff that is pretty, cuddly, full of "oh you left me whoo whoo" heartstring yanking verses.

I can pop it up with the best of you sons of bitches.

So with that in mind, tonight is all about the pop. It is a music that people like that aren't angry jerks, and maybe don't have spikes all over them and stuff. So lets get into it shall we?

I can't take full credit for the first two of these. I live in a spooky self-fulfilling vacuum of total dorky indulgence, so unless I am drunkenly stumbling on stuff courtesy of cutting edge channel MTV HITS (give us money), I normally need some guidance here. I wish I could say that radio supplies me with this avenue, but sadly A) commercial radio in our second tier town is craaap B) I drive the sort of car that is avoided by upstanding citizens, the cultural elite, and the majority of radio transmissions.

Anyway, the first one is courtesy of my special lady friend (oh hey you come up with a term for this in this modern age), who recently traveled to Chicago for a gala concert event by this (oh shit here it comes stop smirking) artist. There were acrobats! Wirework extravaganzas! Led Zeppelin covers! A shit hot band (this claim has been verified, also the POWERHOUSE MOTHERFUCKER Jessy Greene - yeah that one with the Geraldine Fibbers and that other less important obscure military radio designation band - is involved)!

Anyway, Pink is a badass.



The second one comes from my primary black metal adoring, show going, tough as nails never say die brother (note: not actually my brother, but as close as I am going to get). Also he openly loves girly pop. When we aren't debating the merits of shakiras werewolf chicken dance or other ladies in terrifying danger of falling out of their video costumes, we watch videos. One of them is this. Now I have not done the appropriate wikipedia research (IT NEVER LIES) to determine if they are clones or twins or sisters or whatever, but as far as such stuff goes, at least they aren't faking it like T.A.T.U. or boring the fuck out of me like good old mush-mouthed Canadians Tegan and Sara.

They also don't like embedded videos, which has brought my adventures in said technology to a screeching halt, but they are called The Veronicas, apparently.

Ok, but this last one is all me. To be fair, it is a instant "holy shit i like this why do i like this but hey goddamn I LIKE THIS YAAAAAAAHHH!" moment so two days from now I might not really care about it at all, but tonight it is the coolest shit ever. I know nothing about this person, but she dances with a huge chair and doesn't sound like Lily Tomlin, so the cognitive dissonace is quite satisfying. Thanks fabulous basic cable station MTV HITS (no but seriously you guys should probably give us some money). Her name is Priscilla Renea, and that name is impossible to spell correctly twice in a row, so don't try.



Ok then. More horrifying screechy nonsense in days (maybe minutes, who knows)?

The Knife? In MY Opera?

It's more likely than you think!



This is an excerpt from "Tomorrow, in a year", a collaboration between Hotel Pro Forma and The Knife. A soundtrack is expected next year and I, for one, will be selling whatever body part will get it into my hands fastest. (Note to self: do not sell hands.)