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Hey music muffins. Last night was all about Lykke Li and the Swedish Star didn’t disappoint. She made us wait, but when she arrived on a sparse stage with white lights and super long black curtains, she served up the best of her 2 album catalog.
What she wore? Proving once again bodycon is dead, she appeared in a very interesting get-up indeed. Mizz Li werked some kind of black pants (possibly a bodysuit?) with some flowy, scarvy type action. There might have been a robe involved. See below. Very Stockholm. This totally modern choice kept the focus on the music. The hair? Ombre bitches.
The music was fantastic. We had some serious bass moments, a dance break, some Kanye, and even a little Righteous Brothers. She kept the energy up through the relatively short set and took off like a whirling dervish prior to breaking for the encore.
Lykke Li proved again her vocal nuance is no studio magic. This girl can sing and she does so in an original, creative, and self-restrained way. Her cover of Unchained Melody was enchanting perfection, and that song usually kind of annoys me.
This week I had the pleasure of visiting two of my very favorite people in one of the world’s most enjoyable cities for the Portishead show. No, we did not stumble into a portal which transported us back to 1994. Before we arrived, one of the crew asked what the crowd would be like. “Old,” I replied. Lest we forget that 1994 was 17 unforgiving years ago.
Truthfully, I haven’t listened to much of Third, Portishead’s most recent record from oh-eight. During a certain moment in time, however, I wore Dummy out. In the mid-nineties, ubiquitous Dummy was in everyone’s collection, at least in my drugged-up slutty circles. Is there anything druggier or sluttier than Portishead? Sour Times for Good Times.
Turns out, Portishead live is a deeply conflicting experience. Apart from some short-lived glitchy sound issues, the selections from Dummy were sublime. In particular, Wandering Star was a well-executed highlight.
With regret I must confess I did not connect to their newer more “experimental” offerings. At their worst, Portishead sounded like the off-key bastard child of Sonic Youth and Evanescence. It was two songs worth of misery interrupted by an old familiar fave followed by more loud pain. The contrast was jarring. The crowd was especially limp and unresponsive to the less familiar material as is usually the case, but in this instance magnified. One review described the audience as “rapt,” which really wasn’t an accurate reading of my area of the room. Curious about the set list? Silence, Hunter, Mysterons, The Rip, Sour Times, Magic Doors, Wandering Star, Machine Gun, Over, Glory Box, Chase the Tear, Cowboys, Threads, with an encore: Roads, We Carry On.
During Glory Box my friend leaned forward and yelled in my ear, “Oh yeah, this is that song from The Craft. I totally feel like I’m being sexually assaulted in the woods by Skeet Ulrich.” And that pretty much sums up the experience.
Hate to kick it off with such an obvious recommendation, but do consider Jay-Z and Kanye’s Watch the Throne. Never thought these two massive egos could fit comfortably on one collaborative effort, but somehow they managed to pull it off. The album ain’t half bad. Not as great as Twisted, but also not a complete waste of time.
The Rapture shows progress on In the Grace of Your Love without abandoning their clangy roots. This collection of songs is a little more mature and melodic than previous offerings, but still full of energetic fun. Good thing we got something new from The Rapture because now every time I hear Echos I can’t help thinking of Misfits (the awesome show, not the band).
Mz. Anderson’s Past Life Martyred Saints is every bit as bueno as the critics say. Won’t bore you with a gush, but getcha some of this goodness for sure.
Love Adele, but this boring-ass dress explains why she’s often photographed from the shoulders up.
Fucking gross yo. Beyoncé does her bun in the oven pose in tangerine Lanvin. I’m sure Gwyneth is thrilled at the prospect of sharing her homemade organic baby food recipes.
Miley Cyrus in Cavalli and Selena Gomez in Julien Macdonald, these two twats look 35. 
Justin Beiber is the only young lady who dressed her age.

You can take the whores out of the Shore, but not the Shore out of these whores.
Jojo you know it’s just a little too late…
All that auditing has dulled her taste in clothes. Katie dressed like she was attending a parent-teacher conference instead of the VMAs. The awkward stance and hideous booties do nothing to redeem the look.
The fact that Pete Wentz topped the best dress should give you an indication of the evening’s style caliber.
Wasn’t wowed by Mizz Saldana in a embellished LBD by Barbara Bui, but I’ll still probably see her new movie Colombiana.
For Katy Perry life is a costume party rather than a fashion show. Here she channeled her “happy endings” look. 
This is not an appropriate response to a cold sore Nicki.
More of the same from Miss Piggy’s Armenian cousin who always serves too much titty, too much belly, and too much hair. 
Recently, I yanked Standing in the Way of Control out of the vault. After five years, Gossip’s breakout moment sounds as fresh as ever.
Not every album stands the test of time, but this baby holds up. This collection of songs totally merits a flashback listen. Considering the current audio climate, it’s fair to say I appreciate Gossip’s music now more than ever. Those looking for a more recent Gossip offering? Try Heavy Cross.
Ditto forever.