I was repetitively asked "Are you a boy or a girl?" throughout childhood and adolescence and usually followed by "Fucking dyke!" Very recently, all of these wounds resurfaced when I saw this comment left by a woman on a video I posted on Facebook to raise funding for a tour for my band The Cliks. Don't shame me for speaking up for myself. Shame those who hurt me.
Much has been made of life on the road. One of the things that keeps the craziness at bay, at least for me, are the fleeting but memorable moments that happen every once in a while on tour; the kind of moments that stay with you for a lifetime. Interviewing Tad Doyle for my podcast was something else.
She recently headlined a show at the Phoenix where she blew the audience away with her inspired performance. Though some folks say it's hard to define her style, there's one thing that couldn't be clearer: she was born to sing and she is fulfilling her destiny.
To make something so beautiful out of the chaos of our world is rare. I'm in awe of this album and not afraid to say so. I remember what my life was like before this album and can only dream of what its going to be like after.
Okay, I, admittedly, haven't been a (loyal) American Idol viewer since the adroit Carrie Underwood went all the way during season four.
From "Young at Heart" to "The Way You Look Tonight," "Love and Marriage" to "My Funny Valentine," there was a song for every mood, every time of day, every event. I, like a million girls before me and a million since, fell in love with Sinatra through his voice, and what a voice it is.
To crack this case, we have to go all the way back to late January of this year, when SuperStorm Beyonce once again made devastating landfall on the coastlines of our collective consciousness.
You start with one person. And if you can get one person to really like you and your band, I mean gushhhh over you like a 13-year-old over One Direction, then, one fan will become two, two will become three, three will become four. So chill out, take off the sunglasses, and hang with your fans.
So, I wrote a rap song with my mom. Before we even set pen to paper, my mom began expressing some doubts about the whole endeavor. She was fearful that, never having done such a thing, she wouldn't be able to write a rap song.
Dear Girl Who Gave Danny Brown Oral Sex On Stage. I wanted to reach out because I was a little concerned. What worried me is that it appears you weren't aware of your options. Let me break it down for you.
Bruce Springsteen and Mark Knopfler have influenced tons of artists over the years, but a sweet-sounding soprano who's co-founder of the charming Canadian trinity known as the Wailin' Jennys wouldn't be the first to come to mind.
Gwen, don't listen to the naysayers. They're just jealous. Hell, I'm even jealous of you. You sang with The Stones and you looked great doing it, if I do say so myself. Nobody, even wild horses, as hard as they might try, can take that away from you.
This was my big dream -- to work with Sting. I experienced first-hand his brilliance and his unique ability to draw out the best in those around him. He took care of his body and his instrument. No matter what the situation, he was always prepared, and he expected the same of us.
We're human, so we do need validation sometimes, but there are no trophies for being a mom. The job is selfless, but if we dig deep, we will see that the great reward is finding the strength and beauty we never knew existed inside of us, one moment at a time.
His songs are funny without being cruel. Proud but not prejudiced. Honest but gentle. They are what Canada wishes it could be (they assign Stompin' Tom songs at school). But, above all, they are great travel writing from a great traveller.
Music is an undeniably powerful thing. It's something I've been striving to learn how to use since childhood days when my dad's acoustic ramblings would put me to sleep in comfort. My new album Siberia Acoustic started out as just acoustic version of Siberia but turned into an entirely separate album. I hope this is what I'll get to play at the end of the world.