Last night I bumped into the lovely folks from Little Radio at Studio Number One's holiday bash at the Broadway Bar downtown. They informed me that Autolux and a couple other awesome bands will be playing their NYE party. It's a must, people! Only $20 at the door and an open bar all night. I shall most certainly be there, and you better be too. www.littleradio.com

(Check out Sam Slovic's awesome story about the Silverlake music scene, featuring Autolux, in this week's Weekly).

Or...if you fancy something a little more low key, Shepard Fairey's wife Amanda told me Shepard will be spinning at Cha Cha from 10-2 on NYE.

Feel free to send in your NYE suggestions!!!

PS: Brother Reade play the Knitting Factory tonight! So much good music! It must be Christmas!

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We're approaching the last week of shopping before Christmas, Hanukkah begins on Friday, and we're already knee-deep in the hoopla of the "holiday season."

Check out the sale events happening all over the city this weekend and pick up loads of presents at discounted prices:

For The Clothing Collector:

Head to Ron Herman Melrose for a one-day in-store shopping event where you can purchase limited edition items from local fashion hero Project Runway winner Jeffrey Sebelia's Cosa Nostra line. Dresses, jackets, vest, skirts, tops and bags made with his winning green and white striped fabric will only be sold this Saturday and will never be available again, at least not anyplace where you won't have to outbid someone.
Ron Herman Melrose, Saturday, December 16th, 4-7pm, 8100 Melrose Avenue @ Crescent Heights

For the Vintage King or Queen

They're calling it customer appreciation day at Labomba this weekend. Their famous pile of vintage treasures is being priced to move with over 10,000 pieces all for a BUCK A PIECE! Check out Steffie's write-up for the Weekly on Labomba's pile and stylist extraordinaire Charon Nogues here.
Saturday, December 16thm 11 a.m.-6 p.m. and Sunday, December 17 from noon -5 p.m. Labomba, 2222 East 4th St., Long Beach

For the Goth-Rock Hipster

Deconstructed military jackets, sweaters, jeans and tees and more from Morphine Generation's fall 06 Heroes and Heroines line will be 50-75% off at their holiday sample sale. Booze and music will be provided, of course.
Saturday December 16th and Sunday December 17th, 10 a.m.- 6 p.m., Morphine Generation, 1555 Cahuenga Blvd. Cash and credit cards only. NO CHECKS.

Posted by Linda Immediato

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I heart the Dixie Chicks.

I know, I can't believe it either.

If you'd told me a week ago that I would be saying this, I wouldn't have thought it was possible. Sure, I love alt country gals like Lucinda Williams and Neko Case, and who doesn't love Dolly? But heartland darlings who sing the national anthem at the Super Bowl? Not exactly my cup of Bud Light. However, thanks to a piece I'm writing about music in the movies, Barbara Kopple's Dixie doc Shut Up and Sing arrived in my mailbox. I put on the DVD because it was my job, and I watched it for the third time last night because – I know, this sounds laughably corny – I feel like the Dixie Chicks are my friends. Watching the film, I teared up over their struggles and their strengths, and I think their story is an inspiration to all Americans.

Again, I know! What am I talking about, spouting grandiose platitudes about "all Americans"?! But the simple fact is, in this era of political double talk, celebrity handling, and corporate art, the Dixie Chicks – the biggest selling female group in history – were willing to stake their zillion-dollar career on freedom of expression and a moral opposition to the war on Iraq. To put this in perspective, last week Britney Spears publicly apologized for flashing pink at the paparazzi, saying she'd taken her newfound freedom "too far" and that she was looking forward to a "new year" and a "new me." In 2003 Dixie Chicks lead singer Natalie Maines dissed the President on a London stage before thousands of people, and although she apologized for how she said what she said (her exact words were "We're ashamed that the President of the United States is from Texas"), she stood by her criticism of Bush's actions and her right to do so. And then, instead of censoring all discussion of W from that day on, she called him a "dumbfuck." On camera. (This moment is actually featured in an ad for the movie that NBC refused to air.)

Shut Up and Sing documents the journey of this self-described "sisterhood" (all of whom are mothers) from #1 country sweethearts to boycotted musicians, political pariahs (the Red Cross even refused a $1 million donation from them) and punching bags of conservative America. Country radio banned them. Angry flag wavers told news crews that the Chicks deserved to be deported, tried for treason, or simply, strapped to a bomb and dropped on Iraq. Toby Keith wrote a song about them whose chorus went, "We'll put a boot in your ass, it's the American way." One especially wrathful Texan issued a death threat, declaring that Natalie Maines would be shot dead at their show in Dallas. When the singer was shown a photograph of her would-be assassin she said, "He's kinda cute."

With humor and talent on their side, these women turned the ordeal into great artistic and personal growth. Working with guru/producer Rick Rubin (and, thankfully, stylist Arianne Phillips, who did away with the awful "punk" stage clothes they wore in 2003), the Chicks redefined themselves and created an album that even self-respecting rock fans could listen to, Taking the Long Way. The recording sessions at Sunset Sound in L.A. with members of the Heartbreakers and Chad Smith from the Red Hot Chili Peppers on drums, are definitely a highlight of the movie, as is a peek at Rubin's lair, where books line the walls and a taxidermied polar bear stands guard. I'll be honest: I've never heard any other Dixie Chicks album, but I'm pretty sure none of them have songs like the heartfelt, courageous "Not Ready to Make Nice," or "Lubbock or Leave It," a country punk kiss-off to Natalie Maines' hometown, Lubbock, TX, which also put Buddy Holly through the wringer.

At one point in the film just before the record's release, when their red wine-loving British manager, Simon, is talking about potential TV appearances on shows like Regis and Kathi Lee, Maines, lying on a couch, asks, "Can't we be the Bruce Springsteen and the Bob Dylan? I just don't CARE." In the end the Chicks decided not to service Taking the Long Way to country radio because it had banned them, and then turned down sponsorship on their 2006 tour because it was the "safe" route to take; they preferred to take the risk and hope the fan support was behind them. Shut Up and Sing's final message is hopeful but slightly bittersweet, as an artistically recharged, fashionably dressed Dixie Chicks sets off on a tour that, for the first time in years, isn't selling out.

However, as of last week there's a coda to the story: on Thursday, the Dixie Chicks received five Grammy nominations, including album of the year for Taking the Long Way and song and record of the year for "Not Ready to Make Nice." Oh, and apparently they got some country nominations, too, and the single is in heavy rotation on CMT, but who needs those dumbfucks anyway?
posted by Steffie Nelson
photo copyright Mark Seliger

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When I was a kid I was forbidden from watching soap operas, while my mother, however, was glued to the TV set each afternoon watching General Hospital. I used to try and sneak my way in, ask my mom annoying questions so that I could get a peak at the banned program. I imagined they did all sorts of risque perverted things to one another, I figured there was at least nudity. But as quick as I walked in the room, my mom was throwing me out. And then I met Darwina. She was a kid my age who lived down the street, she had guinea pigs as pets, a father who was a nurse and was allowed to watch soap operas. We hit it off like gasoline and matches, and from then on I spent the few hours before dinner at her house watching General Hospital. As luck would have it, I got in on the whole thing right as the Luke and Laura saga was beginning. And while there wasn't nudity, people did do perverse things to one another, they plotted murder, revenge, and in the case of the romantic duo, rape. Yes, Luke had raped Laura, but they fell in love. And they loved all over the place. I remember them being on the run, fleeing from Luke's mob bosses, and taking refuge in a small farming town. I still remember them hiding in the hay, Laura had a brown curly wig on and cowboy boots. And I learned what a roll in the hay means and to this day a bale of hay does something to me.

Anyway, the TV couple celebrated their 25th anniversary last month, the original affair was the highest watched daytime event ever with close to 30 million viewers. Second only to Princess Di's lavish wedding. In fact, according to Anthony Geary (Luke) Princess Di also got caught up in the Luke and Laura thing too, and on the day of their televised wedding, she sent them champagne and thanked them for hours of entertainment.

And sure, they got divorced after 20 years of marriage in 2001, but they were about to get back together when Laura kills her mother's ex and goes into a catatonic state.

Now, this past November, with the help of an experimental drug, Laura returned from her vegetative state and tied the knot once more with her beloved Luke.

The pangs of nostalgia were so sharp, I almost ran out and bought a TV.

Lucky for all of us with out them, there is Youtube.
This link will take you on a montage trip down Luke and Laura lane...his curly permed hair, her loose waves and dewy eyes... Look for links to watch old episodes, and even the Nov. 16th 2006 nuptuals... happy tubing!

Posted by Linda Immediato

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The sweatshirt turned 80 this year. It is said to have been invented by Russell Athletic company in 1926 as an alternative to the itchy wool sweaters worn by college football teams. The old gray mare, is like the Madonna of leisure wear, it keeps reinventing itself. Imagine a college campus without sweatshirts? Remember waking up minutes before your morning class, no time to pickout an outfit, you dashed off in the perfectly acceptable baggy sweatshirt you had been sleeping in. And what would matchy couples like wear? What single garment is worn so widely by boys and girls— the bi-sexual sweatshirt. What would Florida retirees wear? And hoodies? Remember Adam Sandler's ode to his red hooded sweatshirt?

What would emo kids hide their miserableness underneath? Imagine the Unibomber without his?

And the evolution into the terry or velour hoodies of yesterday paired with matching pants was seen on every celebrity. Suddenly the PJ-leiseure wear look reserved for the quad was acceptable everywhere. There's been a backlash against the ensemble approach and terry and velour, but a deconstructed fitted fleece hoodie is still considered sexy and hip.

Still, we all know nothing has done more for the frumpy garment than the 80's era film Flashdance, and Jennifer Beals as Alex the ballet dancer-welder, who's off the shoulder style still smoulders.

Viva la sweatshirt!

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In case you were wondering, this is what an off-duty evening with the Style Council looks like: mesquite burning in the fireplace, a symphony of op-art fashion because the girls just can't help their stylishness, and ridiculous feats of double jointedness because – again – they can't help it. What is not evident from this photograph is the bottle of Jim Beam on the table (consumed, I admit, by me) or the hours of gabbing that continued well past 3AM, on subjects ranging from the mating habits of penguins to the historical existence of Little Miss Muffett. Stay tuned for news about Style Council radio, possibly coming to a station near you. Or was that the bourbon talking?

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I think I understand the joy Marie Curie must have felt after discovering radium. Or the exhilaration that must have coursed through Alexander Fleming's veins after he found penicillin growing in his kitchen sink. That's because last night, I discovered the cure to Hipster Flu.

Hipster Flu is the vicious influenza currently afflicting the young and well-dressed denizens of Los Angeles. And the cure is not Dayquil or orange juice or vitamins. It's simpler than  that - leave town. That's right. Get out. Go. And don't forget to soak in super-heated mineral waters in the desert. That's the real secret.

I know this because Steffie, Linda and I deserted the City of Angels this weekend and drove to the desert. We holed up in a little house in 29 Palms. We dined at the 29 Palms Inn (overpriced, lighting too bright) and played board games in front of a roaring wood fire until the wee hours. In the morning we hiked in Joshua Tree National Park, filling our diseased lungs with crisp desert air, and almost got lost among the boulders of Hidden Valley. Then at night, on the way home to L.A., Steffie and I drove to Desert Hot Springs and took a dip in five or so mosaic-tiled pools filled with magic mineral waters which are naturally-heated 300 feet beneath the earth's surface.

At the time, I had the sniffles and was fearing a Hipster Flu relapse. But after a few hours of soaking and sauna-ing, my sniffles disappeared. My sore throat evaporated. And my left eye - which had been pink, sore and itchy before getting in the water - completely healed. A miracle!

Using the pools cost us a mere $5 each - pretty on-budget as far as miracles go. And much kinder on the pocket than piles of multi-vitamins, Zinc and Dayquil, which I had been gobbling prior to our trip.

Desert Hot Springs Cold And Flu Remedy - more warmth than a scarf, less crack than a DayQuil.

Highly recommended.

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