Why do we fear change? Revision is essential to the work of writers, artists, musicians, and activists. On this episode inspired by Bitch's current print issue, we explore revision in three different artistic mediums. First, we talk with writer Stephanie Abrahamabout how the star of classic sitcom "I Dream of Jeannie" morphed from a Baghdad-born genie to a mainstream Florida housewife. Then, we sit back and listen to Hrishikesh Hirway of the podcast Song Exploder talk with musician Julia Holter about how she puts together a song. Finally, Bitch Media's Art Director Kristin Rogers Brown discusses designing magazine covers and what to do when good art ideas go horribly wrong.
I don't think I'm alone when I say I can't stand saxophones in rock music. To work through my fear of sax, and to help any fellow saxophobes out there, I've dug up ten exceptional uses of the sax in rock. Think of it as saxophone exposure therapy.
(Wild Flag cover the Rolling Stones' Beast of Burden. Genderbent covers=some of my favorite things...)
The big exciting announcement in music this week was supposedly that iTunes now has the Beatles catalogue. Well, in news that may shock some of you—I was A. unaware that they didn't already, as I'd never looked for it, and B. unconcerned, as I don't actually like the Beatles.
I understand that the Beatles are incredibly important to the history of rock 'n' roll. Hell, Ringo produced T. Rex, without whom I would not be who I am! (That was a joke. Partly.) But I never get the urge to sit down and listen to the Beatles. I am an Elvis/Stones girl, and yes I know that the Beatles had far better gender politics (well, sorta) than Elvis or Mick Jagger. But the heart wants what the heart wants.
By the end (I'm hoping not for good, but for now, anyway) of Sleater-Kinney Corin Tucker's voice was a finely honed weapon, full of deep, slow, sexy soul and capable of an earsplitting wail, a bonechilling snarl, a rock'n'roll howl that didn't so much as defy gender as rip the guts straight out of it.
Her new record, 1,000 Years puts that voice front and center, without the thrash that made The Woods so threatening at the time.