A Visible Life: RIP E. Lynn Harris

I'm glad I was already sitting down when I learned this morning that E. Lynn Harris had died. Reading the news in a post from a Facebook friend was like getting punched in the stomach. E. Lynn Harris dead? How can that possibly be? Oh my God...and then, typically, but I'm not through reading him! I was waiting to see what he'd come up with next!

It was that way with me and E Lynn since the beginning when I encountered his "Invisible Life" at the Barnes and Nobles outlet at Jack London Square in the midst of an unusually dark and troubled period of my life. The cover art - all blurred and phyne-ass folk - caught my eye and when I scanned the synopsis I knew I had to give this new author a shot. I brought the book home, opened it up and was instantly hooked. Harris was telling stories of people I knew living lives I understood and opening the curtain to lives I didn't. Downlow men, of whom I'd known my share, men of color, who comprised the majority of my homies, angry and conflicted men - the shock of recognition when I ran into myself was almost more than I could take. But I kept reading. Harris was a wonderful writer who specialized in short chapters that kept you turning the pages to find out what happened next, kinda like the Nancy Drew and Hardy Boys cliffhanger mysteries I loved as a kid.

But Harris did more than just tell engrossing, laugh-out-loud, talk-to-the-book stories. In a time when AIDS was rampant and my friends were dying one by one, when sending gays to Alcatraz for quarantine was actually discussed (crazy, but I remember when it was), when the churches turned their back on homosexuals, when paranoia was at its highest, he wrote about young All-American African-American men who were closeted out of fear and what it cost them. He demonstrated with heart , wit and passion just how the Black church and the downlow subculture was contributing to the decimation of a whole community.

But this was no sociological treatise, though you could break it down as such. Harris loved his characters, even the gold diggers, even the family members who turned their backs on their gay sons and brothers, even the closeted bisexual football player, Basil, who spewed anti-gay venom in early books and had sex with men on the side. I often suspected he loved Basil most of all. His characters were three-dimensional and they struggled. Many appeared in several of his books, which could be read as continuing installments or as stand-alone works of can't-wait-to-see-what's-next fiction.

It got to where I couldn't wait for the next Harris book and would be at the bookstore the day they came out to buy them. Once my friend, Tony, who volunteered at the Center for AIDS Services with me, beat me to the punch and showed up with "Abide With Me" before I even knew it was out. And I well recall the Saturday I was at an airport bookstore in Houston and asked the clerk if she had "Not A Day Goes By," knowing damn well it didn't come out until the following Tuesday and she grinned, reached under the counter, and handed me an advance copy! I swear I knew God was lovin' me that day...

Maybe eight years ago, E Lynn came to San Francisco to read and meet fans at A Different Light, the pre-eminent Castro Street bookstore. I ended up in the second row. He came up to the podium in understated but full sartorial splendor and engaged his audience reading the first chapter of his new book. He had us laughing and nodding our heads as he read about a particularly wicked dinner party, and then he told a couple of personal stories before opening it up to let us meet him one by one.

This was my moment to let him know how much his books had helped me, how they had held my hand in dark dark times when I thought I might never emerge, how they had let me know I wasn't alone and things would get better. I wanted to tell him how he made me laugh and how he helped me understand things about myself and others I may not have gotten any other way. I had promised myself that if I ever have the chance to tell my heroes what they mean to me, I will do it, no matter how nervous or tongue-tied I feel. I've done it with Lesley Gore, I've done it recently with Deadlee.

And I did it that warm summer night with E Lynn Harris. I took that moment. I told him what I needed to tell him and his eyes welled up with tears and then mine did. It was contagious! We hugged and thanked each other. There was a long line of fans behind me and it was time to blend back in with the Castro Street throng.

RIP E Lynn Harris. You're already missed.

Deadlee, Johnny Dangerous, Tori Fixx "Pick Up The Mic"

From the opening booming synth chords of "No Fags Allowed," the anthemic Deadlee/Dutch Boy collaboration, "Pick Up the Mic" serves notice that we are embarking on a journey into barely charted territories: the diverse convergence of sound and words that makes up the burgeoning homohop (aka outhiphop) movement. Director Alex Hinton filmed more than a dozen LGBT rap artists for three years all over the United States, in concert and in their homes, and has created a vibrant, no-holds-barred look at the music and the musicians who make the music.

From the start it is clear that outhiphop artists are very aware that they are bucking the hiphop trend by being "out" and rapping about their real life experiences, which include their LGBT identities. Some have a clearly defined mission and imperative (Dutchboy, Deadlee, Tim'm T West), others hope to use their homohop notoriety as a springboard to mainstream success (Johnny Dangerous, God-Des), some are consciously political (Deep Dick Collective), others pointedly carnal (Dangerous, Tori Fixx) and others a combination of all of the above. These are brave writers and performers who have the courage of their convictions and make the music they want to make and say what they want - or possibly need - to say to a hugely underserved audience, LGBT rap fans, and there are hordes of us.

Among the many highlights are Aggracyst's emotional discovery of fellowship and camraderie and recognition that he is finally not alone in making this music; Miss Money's discovery that Dutchboy is actually bisexual; Tim'm's meeting with an ostensibly straight wanna-be rapper near Christopher Street and his adept, aware handling of the situation; God-Des' aching desire for huge mainstream acceptance; Juba Kalamaka's incisive delineation of what makes him do this music.

The many musical segments, most truncated, are the real highlights of this smart, well thought out film, and show the artists doing what they love doing. Johnny Dangerous' beat-heavy syncopated music is shown here to great effect, as is the prolific Tori Fixx's undeniably catchy material. Fixx is also shown to be more than just an artist, but a producer, manager and mentor, mantles many of the artists here have adopted, to their credit. Bay Area rapper Jenro looks like a serious contender based on the range shown in her two numbers.

Four Deadlee songs are featured here: the previously mentioned "No Fags Allowed," soulful, searing "Good Soldier,"" the in-your-face and horny "Suck Mah Gun," and the raunchy collaboration with Johnny Dangerous, "Crack Hit." Possibly due to all the musical spots, Deadlee primarily figures in the film as occasional sound bites and validation and encouragement for the artists who have come after him. However, he shows up in the generous (42 minutes) extras on this DVD, sharing his coming out story as do several of his peers, and, significantly, letting us into his private life with his then-partner Drastiko at home. This particular segment is as revolutionary and political as anything in this documentary given the climate engendered by Prop 8 (Prop H8).

"Pick Up The Mic" is an important, powerful and fascinating film, a peek inside a musical subculture that continues to grow and thrive. Kudos to Alex Hinton for putting his camera where his heart lies and celebrating these talented, determined and inspiring artists.

Spencer Day "Vagabond"

Los Angeles based singer-songwriter-pianist Spencer Day returns with his debut CD on the Concord Jazz label. Acclaimed as a smooth and jazzy vocalist in the tradition of saloon singers from Sinatra to Buble, Day distinguished himself by being out, by writing much of his own material, and not relying solely on the classic American pop and show tune standards that he could have easily built a career on. Citing the influence of Burt Bacharach, Roy Orbison and Dusty Springfield (sheesh, two out of three are dead), Day weaves a magical spell from the very first track, "Till You Come to Me," setting a very urban scene of yearning in a crowded humid noisy city. I can easily imagine the 60s Dusty Springfield singing this and several more of Day's sleek and urbane compositions. Likewise, the sinuous, complex, string-heavy arrangements really are reminiscent of Bacharach's 60s work with Dionne Warwick, and Brazilian flavors blend seamlessly into his mix.

Born in Utah and raised in rural Arizona, Day incorporates light country into his sound on songs like "Everybody Knows," a terrific song about the pressures of living in the closet. Day's vocals here range from measured and controlled to an urgent belt that appears off and on throughout this excellent record to perfect effect. "Weeping Willow," and "Tuesday Morning (Maybe)" reveal a very specific and thoughtful perspective as well as a bracing sense of humor. Several songs, like "Joe" and "Better Way," betray the young man's concerns for the world-at-large and young gay men in particular that is heartening.

Spencer Day has been blessed with a wonderful vocal instrument and rapidly evolving songwriting skills and he is a solid fit for the Concord Jazz label. "Vagabond" should catapult him into the upper echelon of modern singer-songwriters right alongside Rufus Wainwright and his ilk, and he deserves it. Don't be surprised if he is a household name before long due to the engaging and sophisticated music found on "Vagabond."

"Vagabond" will be released September 8, 2009, but will be available in advance of that date at live Spencer Day performances. In the San Francisco Bay Area, he will appear July 24-26 at Yoshi's San Francisco and July 27 at Kuumbwa Jazz in Santa Cruz. More info can be found at www.spencerday.com/.

This Time Next Year's Tour Launch Party at Blakes

Equal Vision Records hosted a tour launch party for their new rising alterna-punk stars, This Time Next Year, at Larry Blake's on Telegraph in Berkeley, a block from the UC Berkeley campus, and plenty of punk rock lovin' students showed up to show love for the band. This Time Next Year have been touring behind their two indie EPs nearly constantly and have built up a loyal cadre of hardcore fans for their unique blend of punk, rock and alternative pop. They did not disappoint fans with a solid set that mixed old favorites and new material from their full length Equal Vision label debut, "Road Maps and Heart Attacks," due in September. The only thing rowdier than the band was the mosh pit in front of the stage that grew wider and bigger song by song until it threatened to swallow up the vocally adept lead singer, Pete Dowdalls, who didn't seem to mind jumping into the crowd one iota. TTNY has developed into a crowd-pleasing band that has a blast on stage and takes its audience with them every badazz beat of the way. Can't wait for the new record. In the meantime, a couple of new tracks are available on itunes, and there is a real cool white vinyl 7-inch single available, too. Check them out at myspace.com/thistimenext year.

Jim Allio "Little Boy Lost" Lyrics

Lyrics for this song from "Second Chance," video storyboarded by writer Kate Britton, to be shot and directed this week by Britton, look for it on youtube.com and facebook soon.

LITTLE BOY LOST

The cars swoosh by in the middle of the night
The cars drive by with their boomin' systems
The wind whistles down 14th Avenue
The fog rolls in
And I feel sad
Disappointed
I feel sad

Little Boy Lost, little boy blue
You came to the big city
In search of someplace you could do you
Little Boy Lost, little boy blue
Out here on your own
And you don't know
No, you don't know what to do
Little Boy Lost, little little little boy blue
Thought you found true love
But that love wasn't true
Little Boy Lost, little boy blue

(Latin Party Interlude)

Little Boy Lost, little boy blue
You've lost your way and realize
No one's gonna rescue you

You thought you found the pot of gold
At the rainbow's end
All you really got is a lot more old
You were bought and sold
And bought and sold again
Just the same old fool's gold
You can't even find a friend, my friend
No one's gonna rescue you
It's all on you
So what you gonna do
Tell me, what you gonna do

Little Boy Lost, little boy blue
You came to the big city
In search of someplace you could do you
Little Boy Lost, little boy blue
Out here on your own
And you don't know
No, you don't know what to do

Little Boy Lost
Little Boy Lost
Little Boy Lost
Little Boy Lost

copyright 2009 by whitchoc38music, written by James A. Allio

Ladies of the Lake (Merritt)

Twelve years ago I quit smoking because my best girlfriend, Alyssa, had quit and I was, I think now, feeling competitive. At the time I was smoking three packs a day, and it was another bad habit that needed to go. They told me that every cigarette smoked represents a feeling stuffed and not felt, so I shouldn't have been surprised when I fell into depression. I got help from my physician and one of the things he recommended was exercise, so I began walking around Lake Merritt, the beautiful lake in the heart of Oakland. Eventually I began jogging and loved it, but more on that later.

The first Wednesday I walked the Lake, I noticed two rowboats in the center of the Lake filled with women dressed in white with blue scarfs and sailor hats, just rowing around the Lake. What a trip! I thought. I wonder who they are. For the next several years, every Wednesday morning that I was down at the Lake, they were there, too, and I got curious

Turns out they are called The Ladies of the Lake, and they are a group of women who have been dressing in sailor uniforms and boating on the Lake since 1916. Damn! 1916!?! Over the years, generations of women from the same families have taken up the mantle, and there are always ladies interested in joining. Sometimes one boat is out there, frequently two and once in a while, you spot three of them. Unless it's raining, you can count on seeing them. They're so goofy, such an atavism in a city known more for gang wars and urban blight than genteel activities, but that's the real Oakland for you, a city full of paradox and beauty to match the rough side the media emphasizes.

A couple of years ago I was in a bad car accident, injured my left foot and was left with what doctors told me was a permanent limp. They also told me I would most likely never be able to jog again and would just have to adjust, particularly since my job involves intense physical labor for several hours a day. They said I could walk the Lake occasionally but that was it.

About five weeks ago, I was doing just that when I realized I was no longer limping and thought, "Hey! Let me just try jogging again!" Five weeks later, I'm almost all the way around the Lake (3.5 miles) without stopping and I am ecstatic. I was a regular at the Lake and every day I run into folks I used to see on the daily and we are so happy to see each other. It feels so good.

And nothing felt better than the first Wednesday morning I was back at the Lake and spotted the Ladies of the Lake, rowing their boats, chillin' like villains and assuring me that this day, like so many others, would be chockfull of unexpected delights and joys, if only I pay attention and keep my mind open. I love me some Ladies of the Lake!

Forever Michael & Farrah

When I heard Farrah Fawcett died yesterday, I was saddened even though it was not unexpected. I remember seeing Farrah in this great old sci-fi flick, "Logan's Run," and immediately being taken with her, and then of course she took over everyone's imagination as Jill in "Charlie's Angels." Teenage boys' bedrooms - and not a few teenage girls - were not official without her famous racy-for-the-time poster. She always reminded me of girls I went to school with, grew up with, worked with, hung out with - pretty, funny, down-to-earth and fun to be with. Over time she completely surprised me by morphing into one of our finest serious actresses, blowing my mind particularly with her scorching performances in the grueling "Extremities" and "The Burning Bed." It became evident that beneath the sunny ultrablonde prototype was a woman with issues, insights and a lot to say. At times over the years her acting career was overshadowed by her eccentricities and personal difficulties, but her pure talent was never diminished. It was undeniable. When I heard she had passed on, I thought, ahhh, I hope now she is at peace.

Then I learned Michael Jackson had died. At 50. So young. I was at work when I learned and we all were shaking our heads and speechless. I was a little bit in shock, a little bit incredulous. As the day moved on, the memories came flooding in. The Jackson 5 on tv, Michael a ball of fire with a prodigious vocal talent. The way that group ruled radio for a time. The time when I was off work for three months with hepatitis and went into San Francisco and found his early solo LP, "Forever Michael" in a record store on Polk Street for 99 cents, brought it home and fell in love with the songs and his transitioning voice. I learned that album by heart and, years before I had even a glimmer that I would be singing and composing myself, I would stand up in the living room of the cottage I rented in Daly City and perform the entire record to entertain myself.

Then there was the time I was on the first post-trick date with Bob, who later became my partner for a couple of years, and we went to a disco below North Beach in the City frequented by bisexuals, open-minded young straights and gays, and heard and danced to "Don't Stop Till You Get Enough" for the first time. That electric percussion avalanche that opened up that record snared me immediately, and his work with Quincy Jones ("Off the Wall," "Thriller") captured my imagination as well.

Yesterday was a sad day, and it got sadder as the day got longer. There had been great things happening earlier in the day that had me happy and smiling, but by the time I got off work, I had been on the verge of tears several times, feeling the loss. I watched the news when I arrived home and saw that hundreds of people had converged on the Embarcadero in SF and had a spontaneous dance party with Michael's music. It was still going on when the 11 PM news aired. I wished I hadn't been at work. I felt connected to those folks.

This morning I woke up and I could feel the tears close to the surface again. As I jogged around Lake Merritt, they came up a couple of times and I let them. Fuck it. There's nothing wrong with feeling grief, even for people I don't know personally, especially true icons like Michael Jackson and Farrah Fawcett. In their own unique ways, both artists informed, inspired and shaped my dreams, and I'm grateful for them. I hope they're at peace after all their trials. Their legacy will live on, and I can tap into their spirits through their art whenever I choose to, or, like today, when I walk past an open door, and "Thriller" is washing out into the street.

Deadlee, D'Lo, Sean Dorsey and the Fresh Meat Festival

"People don't look past the skin," said transsexual pioneer Lou Sullivan. I may be paraphrasing, but the sentiment resonated with me over and over as I attended three out of the four Fresh Meat Festival performances at Project Artaud in San Francisco this past weekend.
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Chatting with one of the board members at intermission on night 3, the affable Stacey, I was asked why I had been to three of the shows. I told him that I am a huge Deadlee fan and he rarely rarely plays in these parts and I was taking advantage of the opportunity to immerse myself in his live show. I had never seen him in person before and had heard he was great. Plus I had a list of questions in my wallet that I planned to ask him if he consented to be interviewed for this blog. But more on that later...

So Fresh Meat Festival is a yearly event, akin to an old school variety show, of the cream of the crop of queer and transgender perfomance. I really had no expectations beyond seeing Deadlee, and to my surprise and delight, my mind was blown by each of the ten acts showcased here. The Taiko Ren drummers opened the show on a fierce intense note, combining rhythm and athleticism and merging the two with pure joy. Zoe Balfour and Citabria Phillips seemed to lift off the floor in their frenetic ballroom dance stanza; the Barbary Coast Cloggers were exhilarating and exciting, even bringing Gwen Stefani and Pharrell into clogging bliss territory; Mind Over Matter Dance Company, which closed the show, had us cheering, laughing and seat-dancing throughout their too-brief set.

ryka aoki de la cruz was enchanting in her "Alternator Domme" piece, which began with a broken alternator on a drive up Highway 5, transitioned through searching for an auto mechanic, getting the money by doing a dungeon domme gig involving a feisty chihuaha, and ended with some sweet revelation, musical and otherwise. StormMiguel Flores sang two evocative and musically sophisticated songs he wrote that had me spellbound. Shawna Virago also sang two numbers.

The Sean Dorsey Dancers (Dorsey, Juan de la Rosa, Brian Fisher, Nol Simonse) did an excerpt from her suite, Lou, that transported me to a whole other place, putting the entire evening into a spiritual context for me. Yep, I said spiritual.

D'Lo, a Tamil Sri L.A.nkan-American, was almost my favorite of the evening, proving herself an astute social commentator and a consummate actor, emerging as her loving and conservative mother in full Sri Lankan dress, and morphing into her b-boi persona, dispensing mordant ruminations on the importance of friendship and connectedness in a world that is often hostile.

Of course, if you read this blog, you know my feet were barely touching the ground waiting to see Deadlee perform live. He began with an angry spoken word piece written during a college tour, and moved into two of my favorite Deadlee 2213 songs, the dance anthem, "Nasty" and the riveting and erotic "Carnival in My Mind." Deadlee was straight up ferocious! He not only exceeded my expectations and hopes, he proved himself a superb performer, able to bring the goods in any venue, gay or other, and left me hella hungry for more. Now I can't wait to see him mount a full show. Hell, I'd travel to see that one!

And the interview questions in my wallet I planned to ask him for this blog? After the first show, we met and clicked hard, talking for an hour, and hanging out post-show the next couple of nights. I did ask him plenty of questions, but it wasn't really interview mode. It was more like two gay men talking candidly about their lives and experiences, and getting to know a new friend. Man to man, artist to artist. Pulling stuff from the time we spent laughing and chopping it up doesn't feel appropriate. The interview will have to wait until another time. The questions are still in my wallet, though!

At intermission one night, I was chatting with the ASL person, Jenny, and enthusing about how much we dug Deadlee and wondering how she was going to sign some of his more explicit lyrics. It struck me then and there just how grateful I was to have followed Deadlee to this gig to encounter a whole world of thought, art and performance with transformative powers. Fresh Meat, I will be back!

Enemy: Lyrics

En-en-en-enemy-my-my
Enemy-my-my, enemy-my-my
Enemy, enemy, enemy

Why are you so mean?
Is everything okay?
It just doesn't seem
Like you need to act this way

Enemy, enemy, enemy
Enemy, enemy, enemy

Why are you so mean?
Is it to hide the pain?
Or to separate yourself
So you don't see we're just the same?

Enemy, enemy, enemy
Enemy, enemy, enemy

(Spoken) I see you
I see you walkin' around the job
With your head held high
Like your shit don't stink
Never really paid you no mind
So why you wanna fuck with me?

Why are you so wack?
Is it to hide what you lack?
Better not have a heart attack
I'll keep on walkin' and I won't look back

(Now) enemy, enemy, enemy
Enemy, enemy, enemy
Enemy, enemy, enemy

(Spoken) I keep tryna figure out what I said
What I did or didn't do
You know, I just don't get it
I wouldn't put you through all this
But even if it's over
I can't think of you as...

En-en-en-enemy-my-my
Ah ah ah

Words (and Music) by James A. Allio
Copyright 2009 whitchoc38 music

Lyrics: "Damaged Goods"

By request, I'll be loading lyrics to the songs on my CD, "Second Chance" periodically. Here's track one (all tracks written by me, Jim Allio)

DAMAGED GOODS

Damaged Goods, Damaged Goods
Damaged Goods, Damaged Goods

Got tired of sittin' on the shelf
Got up, went out lookin' for something new
Damaged Goods, Damaged Goods
Damaged Goods, Damaged Goods

And so I brought this on myself
Damaged Goods, Damaged Goods
Damaged Goods, Damaged Goo-oods
Damaged Goods

Don't tell me what I should and should not do
No, no
No, no!
Damaged Goods, Damaged Goods
Damaged Goods, Da-yeah-maged Goods

Can't stop when it feels this good
It feels so good
Fire's too hot when I'm around you
It feels so good
It feels so good

Damaged Goods, Damaged Goods
Damaged Goods, Damaged Goods
Damaged Goods, Damaged Goods
Damaged Goods, Damaged Goods

Can't say I didn't see it comin'
My eyes, my eyes were wide open
Yes they were
Damaged Goods
Uh yes they were
Damaged Goods

Can't stop once you got me hummin'
Don't know if I'm comin' or goin'
Damed Goods, Damaged Goods
Damaged Goods, Damaged Goods
Yeah, ee-yeah yeah yeah yeah

Damaged Goods, Damaged Goods
Now Damaged Goods, Damaged Goods
Damaged Goods, Damaged Goo-oo-oooooooooods, yeah

Don't know which way this thing is gonna go
I can't call it, I can't call it
Don't know what's 'round the corner, down the road
I can't call it, I can't all it

Damaged Goods, Damaged Goods
Damaged Goods, Damaged Goods
Might turn out bad
But it feels too good
It might turn out bad
But it feels too good

Don't call me your victim
I volunteer
I'm Damaged Goods, Damaged Goods
Damaged Goods, Damaged Goods (repeat)

Copyright 2009 whitchoc38 music

KATE NASH: Criminally Overlooked

There's a ton of them out there right now: British blue-eyed soulstresses commanding airplay, record sales, magazine covers, Grammy awards, tabloid fodder. There's Amy Winehouse, of course, and Lilly Allen. There's Adele and Duffy, and no doubt scores of others waiting in the wings. They all mine similar veins of 60s retro-themed turf, bluesy-jazzy fare with Motown and girl group overtones and tres moderne lyrics that push the envelope for what used to be called "girl singers." They're pretty and stylish and have perfect voices leaning to the pop side of soul, but they differ from the Lulus, Sandies and Lesleys and Dustys, Nancys and Petulas, in that their songs are peppered with profanity and sexuality is not alluded to, it's explicitly delineated. This is 2009, after all, 10 years after Alanis went down on an ex at the movies, and the girl-next-door is almost an atavism.

Enter Kate Nash, possessor of a terrific and number-one-in-Britain album, "Made of Bricks," that for some strange reason hasn't achieved the same level of success and notoriety here in the United States as her talented peers. I saw her perform on Kimmel and Letterman and the other late night talk shows when she was over here and her material impressed me as well as her fierce keyboard work. I liked her voice and her presence was attractive. I thought, yep, here's another one of those Brit girls inheriting the Lisa Stansfield mantle and taking it to the next level, it's good to hear new voices walking around in old shoes.

Then I downloaded the album, played it and bam! I fell head over heels in love. Great voice, well thought out but not overwrought musical settings, and the songs! Shit. Nash has a unique point of view, a finely developed sense of humor and is happy to share her self-effacing and wry self with her audience. Her beats, almost uniformly piano based, pulse and pump perfectly with her smartass songs like my favorite, "Dickhead" ("Why you being a dickhead for? Why you being a dickhead? Why you being a dickhead for? You keep fuckin up situations") that make me chuckle and instantly recognize my own sometime interior monologues. No, wait! "We Get On" is my favorite, the "It's My Party" update where Johnny checks out Kate's ass and she gets a little too tossed. No, no, it's "Mariella," about the friend who commits suicide to a steady Chiffons bounce. It's so hard to choose a definitive favorite, because every song, from the irresistible "Merry Happy" and its steadily increasing breakneck pace to the UK #2 smash, "Foundations," perfectly encapsulating a relationship that's flushing down the toilet, is wonderful to listen to, laugh with and sing along to.

Kate Nash fell down a flight of stairs, broke her foot and was housebound and unable to move for a time, so her mother bought her an electric guitar which she taught herself to play and began writing songs. She booked a gig at a local pub, recorded a couple of demos, put up a my space page, hired a manager and then a producer, a savvy blend of young business woman and music nerd, and it's worked for her. She may have been criminally overlooked here in the US so far, but I doubt that will last. She is working on a new record, reportedly more of a punk sound, that should be out by the end of the year. If it's anything like "Made or Bricks," we are in for a real treat.

TIM'M WEST: Godfather of OutHipHop

Poet-rapper-performer-professor-singer-songwriter-speaker blogger-recording artist...Tim'm West is the personification of a post-millennial Renaissance man, an artist extraordinaire who could make a go in any one of those fields but keeps busy in all of them. He is a man on a mission with the courage and hubris to put himself in the public eye as exactly who he is: a proud, complex gay man confronting personal issues in public forums and making enormous headway in opening minds. He also has inspired a couple of generations of young people coming up, and his work provides encouragement and support for his peers and elders.

Years before the expanding gay hip hop movement (or homo hop, as it's sometimes called) was all over the media, West was one of the founding members of DDC, Deep Dick Collective, conscious rappers addressing gay issues and whose gay members were all the way out. Just their existence at Pride festivals and clubs all over the Bay Area, where I first encountered them, was confrontational, and their recordings were avidly circulated in the community. Their joy at being valid hip hop artists dealing with unspoken issues was contagious, and they developed a rabid following. West remained accessible and active in political and gay rights communities while pursuing his musical dreams, and actively supported and advised other artists trying to engage some of the musical areas he and DDC were pioneering.

Then in 2004, West stepped out from the pack he helped create with his first solo recording, "Songs From Red Dirt," a superb melding of conscious rap, beautiful vocals and melodies, and heartfelt stories about Tim'm, his life and experiences. "Red Dirt" catapulted the homo hop movement into the musical stratosphere and proved, once and for all, that a record about one gay man's experiences could be exhilarating, danceable and addictively listenable. It quickly became my favorite record of that year and I can't tell you how many people of various persuasions I turned on to this true masterpiece.

In the intervening years, Tim'm West has continued his multi-hyphenate pursuits, publishing books of poetry, teaching students at various universities across the country, leading workshops, performing spoken word and music all over the damn place. He has released two more solo CDs, "Blakkboy Blues" and "In Security: The Golden Error," which, if there was any justice in what's left of the music industry, would find homes on alternative radio everywhere. They are cutting edge contemporary and remain fresh and vital, as they still deal with issues that mainstream artists shy away from.

Tim'm West, the Godfather of OutHipHop, is perhaps our most important voice. Yes, his singing is beautiful, his melodies compelling, his words clever, funny, from the heart and to the point. Crucially, he is still out there presenting his truth no holds barred, opening doors for others to follow, and pursuing new dreams. He's still a young man. Long may he reign.

You can check out, download and order Tim'm West's music at iTunes. cd baby and amazon. I've said it before: Do not sleep on Tim'm West. You'll really be missing out.

VAN HUNT: Use NOT Only In Emergency

Van Hunt is one of the most progressive, idiosyncratic and unique voices to have emerged from the neo-soul movement of the past ten years. Despite this, or perhaps because of it, his recorded output has been less than prolific. His debut album was superb and introduced a new artist that seemed to have been fully realized, and further work (his second CD; songs written for and with other artists, notably Rahsaan Patterson) revealed an artist who continues to evolve, grow and surprise. It came as a surprise and disappointment when his heralded third record, "Popular," was lost, maybe forever, to record label disputes. Thank God for the internet, where even records languishing in record company vaults sometimes see the light of day!

While working on his next projects, Van Hunt decided to placate his enthusiastic and expanding fan base with a "new" set of rare, unreleased and demo items from his personal vault, "Use Only In Emergency." The result is a surprisingly consistent, cohesive and enjoyable affair, with classic Van Hunt jams like "Sexy" and "Tingle," which evoke Prince and D'Angelo at their best simultaneously; the laid back groove of "Come Tomorrow;" a loping, mellow "Hidden Charm"; and a straight-up love song, "Her Smile." In addition, there are fascinating insights into the artist's creative process. Two versions of "Attention!" are here, both very different, and each works in its own way. A pumpin' "Man of the Year" turns out to be the seed from which "Hot Stage Lights" from the second record was born. And "Saturday Laughs" ("it's a blast from the past") is pure weekend chill, setting a perfect tone for this project.

I've seen Van Hunt perform live at Bimbo's 365 Club in San Francisco (fabulous venue) and he is as talented and committed a performer as he is a songwriter and recording artist. "Use Only In Emergency" is a welcome return for him, and much more than a stopgap until the next record hits. I recommend using this music at any time, NOT only in emergencies!

DEADLEE: Musical Obsession

My current musical obsession is Los Angeles rapper, Deadlee. Based out of Echo Park and looking like he sprung full blown from the heart of Death Row's glory years, Deadlee - aka Joseph Lee - has been on my radar for a number of years as the foremost proponent of homo hop, hip hop done for and by gay artists. I've watched the videos and listened to the emphasis tracks, but only recently went further and began exploring his whole body of work and I must say I'm beyond impressed with the man's skills, tenacity and heart. And, yes, he is totally fine to boot!

Even a cursory listen to Deadlee's sophomore effort, "Assault With A Deadlee Weapon," reveals a wordsmith with rhythm, uncommon verbal gifts, a sense of humor and rarely heard stories to tell about being gay in a hip hop world and growing up gay in a culture or even a family where you are not accepted and kicked to the curb. His songs, "Good Soldier" and "Good Soldier II" (check out the video on youtube), address issues common to gay youth with compassion and honesty. I wish there had been a Deadlee on the scene when I was coming up to let me know I wasn't alone and that I could be macho, hot, strong, everything I am, and still be a gay man. It turns out Deadlee was inspired to become a rap artist when he was working with troubled gay youth and wanted to provide an antidote to the homophobic mainstream hip hop acts they listened to.

He targets 50 Cent, Eminem and other pop rappers for their moneymaking homophobia and many of his rhymes are barbed with his anger, understandably so. A finely tuned sense of humor rears its head, notably in "Gay Pac," and his seeming mission to educate with compassion is mitigated - gratefully - by a number of tracks that are flat out horny, e.g., "Suck Mah Gun," where the metaphor is full of wit and still retains its heat.

Deadlee has expanded recently into acting but is recording a new CD for Fall 2009. I've seen videos of his live performances and they appear to be incendiary. Can't wait to see him in the flesh!

One final note: It's interesting that Deadlee moved rapidly from being regarded as The Gay Rapper to a straight up Hip Hop Thug Rap Artist...he's that committed, and that good.

"Assault With A Deadly Weapon" available for download on iTunes, cdbaby and Amazon.com. Hot new track, "Nasty," from Homo Revolution Tour 2007 CD, available on iTunes.

Jim Allio "Second Chance" Album Cover

February 10, 2009

SECOND CHANCE Sneak Preview!

The manufacturer has shipped "Second Chance" in time to meet its February 10, 2009 release date. For a sneak preview of three of the tracks on this project, click here:

http://www.myspace.com/aheyheynow

Enjoy!

"SECOND CHANCE" Tracklist

The artwork is being done as I type this. I'm still shooting for a February 10. 2009 release date.

The tracklist for "Second Chance" is as follows:

1 Damaged Goods
2 Enemy
3 Little Boy Lost
4 Kiss It Up to God
5 Consequences
6 Dark Night of the Soul
7 Chillin
8 Getaway
9 Dream (Venice)
10 What Do You See in Me?
11 Second Chance
12 Wonderful Life
13 When the Sun Goes Down

In addition there will be a few hidden surprises...

Jim Allio New CD Rollout Begins!

Gettin' in my car and headin' towards ya, February 10, 2009, record #2, "Second Chance." Produced, arranged, written and sung by me, Jim Allio aka James Anthony.

Track list and more particulars to follow shortly.

Favorite Records 2008

So many excellent records came out in 2008 that it's hard to pick my very favorites, but I've narrowed it down to these, my personal Lucky 13 for 2008 (in no particular order, that would really be impossible!)"

MIA, Kala
Jazmine Sullivan, Fearless
Britney Spears, Circus
Lykke-Li, Youth Novels
Raphael Saadig, The Way I Feel
This Time Next Year, The Longest Way Home
Michelle Williams, Unexpected
Alanis Morrisette, Flavors of Entanglement
Solange Knowles, Sol-Angel and the Hadley Street Dreams
Coldplay, Viva La Vida
Madonna, Hard Candy
Q-Tip, The Renaissance
Beck, Modern Guilt

Also loved the 2008 releases by these artists: Jenny Lewis; Dwele; Mary J Blige; Lil Wayne; David Archuleta; N.E.R.D.; Ting Tings; Pussycat Dolls; Lady GaGa; Duffy; Kanye West.

Already can't stop listening to the new releases by Common; Keyshia Cole; Musiq Soulchild; Beyonce; Mya.

For Your Consideration: Viola Davis and Beyonce Knowles

I saw two movies yesterday dealing with moral ambiguity in different settings: "Doubt," set within the confines of a Catholic parish in the early 60s and "Cadillac Records," which takes place in the music business during roughly the same period. Both were excellent films, engrossing and challenging on several levels, and both caused me to examine my own beliefs about right and wrong and my reactions to what occurred in the stories presented. "Doubt" is of course a big Hollywood award contender, but "Cadillac" is equally as powerful and accomplished.

I have to single out one performance in each film out of uniformly superb casts. In "Doubt," Viola Davis, usually seen in grim television police procedurals, is astounding as the mother of a young boy who may or may not have been molested by his priest, riveting and commanding. The play of emotions that wash over her face and in her eyes is amazing, and that same ability to reveal the inside of a character on the outside is also Beyonce Knowles' feat in her recreation of blues/jazz/rock singer, Etta James, in her early recording career days. Any thoughts of Knowles as a cookie cutter r&b diva or smart stunt casting to draw in a young audience will be immediately dispelled watching her transformation into the messy, conflicted force of nature that was James, particularly back then. There are two scenes in particular which are done quietly in tight close up of her face responding to something Adrien Brody as her mentor/lover, Leonard Chess, is saying that are as brilliant moments of acting as I have seen all year.

And, oh yeah, she sings the hell out of those Etta James standards, too, so all the purists can breathe normally.

Do not miss either performance. I expect to see both nominated for Academy Awards.