It’s hard to get hot over a painting; there’s no equivalent for teenage obsessiveness. Art obsession is ideology. Ideology can be made sexy but it’s easier in music — Kim Gordon
My latest obsession is listening to Gaby Moreno perform the Spanish version of Blondie’s classic, Call Me.
The song isn’t available to download until this Friday (April 28) which is also the same day the movie How to be a Latin Lover — a comedy starring Eugenio Derbez and Salma Hayek — hits theatres in the U.S. The song was recorded for the film.
And since I don’t have Moreno’s version to listen to any time I damn well want, I’ll listen to the Spanish version Blondie did for their 1993 album Blonde and Beyond. I didn’t know they did a Spanish version until Moreno mentioned it in an interview regarding her interpretation of the classic.
This also goes to show you how long it’s been since I last kept track of the band. I was in my 20s figuring out what the fuck to do with my life so childhood heroes and inspirations were tucked away in the back of the mind. I’m still figuring out what the fuck I’m doing with my life. Hasn’t changed at all.
Anyway, I have the bloody song looped. I’m listen to it at home, in the shower, in the car… before I go to sleep. Maybe after I listen to it a thousand times, I’ll be fine. Of course, once I get Moreno’s version onto my playlist, the madness will continue. If you must, ignore the cheesy image that comes with the link to the song. Punch up the volume and give ‘er:
Unfortunately, I’m a little miffed. I can’t seem to find a Canadian release date for the film. April 28 is the U.S. release date. I’ve read somewhere the film might start off in limited release on the same day here in the land of poutine and Prairie skies before going nationwide.
Right now, I don’t see a upcoming listing of it for the local theatres. Heck, I didn’t even see it in the theatre trailers the last time I watched a feature film. Arrgh. Seriously, I want to see this film. I suppose my other option is to wait and see if it’ll show up on Netflix. Maybe I’ll resign myself to that for now. But, iTunes had better have Moreno’s Call Me available for download this Friday. Hell, I’ll download the entire soundtrack.
Now, that I’m done ranting (I think), I should explain that Blondie is the first band whose music I avidly listened to in my formative years. Parallel Lines was the first album I bought with my accumulated allowance. I might have played that album to death. I also might have bought a second copy because something happened to the first. Then their next album, Eat to the Beat, was quickly added to my one-album collection. Then I heard Call Me.
I never saw American Gigolo, simply because I was twelve at the time. I knew what a gigolo was but it wasn’t a solid enough reason for me to sneak into a movie theatre to watch it. My hormones weren’t raging yet and even if they did, I still wouldn’t have been interested enough to see what the scuttlebutt was over the film. I think it might have had something to do with Richard Gere. I don’t know. I just remember there was a fuss about him when the movie came out. Maybe I should try to find a copy of the film and watch it, once and for all (oh hey, it’s on iTunes. I know what I’ll be doing this week). But fuck, I loved that song. I’d dance around and lip-synch to Call Me. Yep, I did that shit. I’ll admit it.
Now that Call Me is back in obscenely heavy rotation on my iPod/iPhone, I’m back to lip-synching, in English and in Spanish, and jumping around the kitchen like a 12-year-old without a care in the world. Just living in the moment.
Call Me, without a doubt, is my favourite Blondie tune of all time. The Hardest Part is a very close second.
One of the things I love about them is how experimental their music was and how they never stuck to one style of music. There was punk, pop, disco and hip-hop all thrown together without a concern what anyone else thought of them. What they did seemed completely normal to me (this probably explains some of my creative and artistic endeavours — past and present). If there were debates about the different musical styles they dipped their collective toes in, I never heard it. And that was because I was too young to care or get caught up in those kinds of conversations. The fact the band recorded a French version of Sunday Girl is beyond cool. When I heard there was a French version of the song, I had to listen to it. I wasn’t aware of anyone else on my radar doing what they were doing. Not that I was geeking out in that way at the time.
Their latest album, Pollinator, is scheduled to drop May 5 and the scuttlebutt is it’s their best album in years. Definitely looking forward to listening to it.
Another thing I love about the band is Debbie Harry. She was my first female role model, outside of my mother. When the band broke out with Parallel Lines, Harry wasn’t a neophyte 20-something singer. She was in her early 30’s and to look at her, you wouldn’t know it. Yes, she is photogenic as fuck. Still a striking woman at 71. Yep, that’s how old she is right now. She has always understood and embraced her sexuality. She has never hesitated to flaunt it as the band’s front woman.
But I have always loved her voice. I love how she throws in a little sass and attitude into her vocals and how she phrases a lyric. Aside from being a singer, she’s an actor, a lyricist and a philanthropist. Regardless of the success or failures of her creative endeavours, she has always done things her way.
To be honest, she was my first woman/girl-crush.
The one thing you would never describe her as, is delicate. In my eyes, she has always been badass. And is still a badass. It’s one of the reasons, if not the MAIN reason I love and respect the woman. She led by example for me. She still leads by example.
I guess my goal, subconsciously, has always been to be a badass. Not sure how well that’s working, but I’m gonna keep trying, in my own little way. And I won’t stop trying.
Well, I better get back to blaring some music and not giving a shit.