Boy Meets Girl: LINDSTRØM & CHRISTABELLE, REAL LIFE IS NO COOL (SMALLTOWN SUPERSOUND) CHARLOTTE GAINSBOURG, IRM (BECAUSE)By Kate Silver
When New York experienced its first snowfall of the season, there was nowhere to go but in. The temps may not have dipped dramatically, but with the radiator hissing and comfort in the air it was hard to leave the house.
Wanting to live in New York and actually doing it are two separate beasts. First theres the tableau: drinking coffee from one of those Greek-motif cups the Law & Order cops are always holding; reading the Post and Observer; riding the subway. But this has little to do with the actual living part of living in New Yorkthe competition, the paralyzing stress, and a plummeting job market. I havent bought a copy of the Post in two years.
What we talk about when we talk about love: the 75 World Series, Anna Karenina, Annie Hall, David Foster Wallace, Star Wars, Sex and the City, the Big Bang. Its all pop music, basically, and pop is what we talk about when we talk about metaphor.
Coney Island is beautiful in winter. Really. The boardwalk is well populated by elderly Russians pickling in the sun, surly teenagers, and tourists anxious for an off-season taste of Nathans Famous (no lines!).
Its appropriate that the song to open a collection of female-featured bands should be The Boy from Ipanema, a gender-subversion of the casually leering bossa nova chestnut.
The night doesnt have to end, even if its 4 a.m. and all roads lead to breakfast. New York nightlife has kept spots like Veselka in the East Village, or the late Empire Diner in Chelsea, hopping at all hours.
Its one thing to pioneer and propel a sound, and another to give it to the people. In a 30-year career, the Ex has remained dedicated to social causes and worldly influences and maintained a devoted, pan-cultural fan base.
The more things change, goes the old saying, the more they stay the same. Twenty-five years after the Ronettes spoke for lousily lovesick teens everywhere, the Boom Children spiked their Sex Pistol riffs with Phil Spector melodies and proclaimed their post-pubescent angst with distortion pedals.
There should be a plaque in front of the old Illinois State Capitol in Springfield that reads: Give me your scorned, your confused, your sad young men. More likely wed get a memorial at the Burpee Museum of Natural History in Rockford: I Want You to Want Me.