Cranky Lesbian

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Tougher Than the Rest

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On April 27, 2023

In Music

Patti Scialfa and Bruce Springsteen, circa 1988.

On this night in Bruce Springsteen history, the E Street Band took the stage at the Los Angeles Memorial Sports Arena in 1988 and performed a stately, slow-burning rendition of “Tougher Than the Rest” that appeared on the Chimes of Freedom EP and became a music video. The video, which intercuts that live performance with clips of couples goofing around or canoodling during the Tunnel of Love Express Tour, is notable for its inclusion of same-sex pairings, but we’re here today to discuss something else entirely.

“Tougher Than the Rest” is, in Springsteen’s estimation, his best love song, an eloquent but rugged ode to emotional staying power. Its official video has been viewed more than 140 million times on YouTube, where comments testify to its near-universal appeal. There you’ll find countless reminiscences of enduring loves, late spouses and what “Tougher,” with its boast of “Well, if you’re rough and ready for love/Honey, I’m tougher than the rest,” meant to those unions. I’m not exempt from that sentimental impulse; the track means a lot to me as well.

The Los Angeles concert was filmed in the waning days of Springsteen’s marriage to actress Julianne Phillips (of Sisters and Original Sins). Theirs was one of the most scandalous celebrity splits of the ’80s, and the “Tougher” video illustrates why: The romantic tension between Springsteen and bandmate Patti Scialfa—soon to boil over publicly, when they were photographed together on an Italian hotel balcony, bleary-eyed and barely dressed—was such that Phillips could’ve submitted the tape to any judge in the country and been granted a swift divorce.

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Goldie and Liza Together: You’ll Laugh, You’ll Cry, You’ll Be Confused

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On April 13, 2023

In TV Specials

Goldie wears Bob Mackie, Liza Halston, in Goldie and Liza Together.

Of all the great television mysteries of 1980, the most popular was undoubtedly “Who shot J.R.?” But the most enduring might be “Goldie and Liza Together: Why?” Was there a great public clamoring for this pairing? Did Minnelli and cherished collaborator Fred Ebb, who’d triumphed with the landmark TV concert film Liza with a “Z” eight years earlier, have tax bills to settle? No matter the impetus, here they were, in an hour-long special presentation on CBS directed by Don Mischer and sponsored by Sentry, “a family of insurance companies to meet all your insurance needs!”

Nominated for four Primetime Emmys, including Outstanding Variety or Music Program (which it lost to Baryshnikov on Broadway), its shaky premise is that the stars are old friends finally fulfilling their dream of working together. With Liza supplying the lung power and Goldie the sobriety, we slog through a disjointed first half that includes, most memorably, Hawn performing “Y.M.C.A.” while surrounded by male dancers, a cutesy precursor to the more seductive (and entertaining) “Physical” video Olivia Newton-John released the next year. The number concludes with Hawn joining the boys in the shower, which causes them to flee in a gay panic.

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Because the Night

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On December 28, 2022

In Music

Bruce and Clarence Clemons in one of their many onstage liplocks.

Forty-two years ago tonight, on December 28, 1980 at the Nassau Coliseum, Bruce Springsteen and the E Street Band recorded a phenomenal rendition of “Because the Night,” a song he began writing in 1977 and never quite managed to finish. Concert footage from the late ’70s plays like a parody of writer’s block in action. Behold the hypnotic intro of this Houston performance and Springsteen’s blistering guitar work throughout the song—and the comically painful repetition with which he shouts “Because the night belongs to lovers” over and over (and over) again.

When nothing became of Springsteen’s unfinished product during the recording of Darkness on the Edge of Town, producer Jimmy Iovine was granted permission to hand the song over to Patti Smith for her own purposes. If the original lyrics were coarse as sandpaper, her reworking was smooth as silken sheets. (In his 2016 memoir, Born to Run, Springsteen calls her his “second-favorite Jersey girl,” the first being his wife, Patti Scialfa.) Smith’s poetic salvage job became her biggest hit, but I’ve never found it to possess 1/10th the muscle, passion or urgency of what the E Street Band typically produces when tackling the song in concert.

For the uninitiated, here’s a standard, dizzying Nils Lofgren solo, but it’s an errant Springsteen lyric that captures, for me, the spirit of a half-sketched song that still defies delineation: “What I’ve got, I have earned/What I’m not, baby, I have learned.” Is it an observation or a threat? A little self-knowledge can be a dangerous thing, and few writers understand that better than Springsteen, whose solo acoustic take on “Born to Run,” for example, turns the euphoric original on its head. His work—including the cuts that Dixie Carter never saw fit to puzzlingly reinterpret—has been my solace-seeking soundtrack as we close the books on 2022 and prepare to put ink to the first blank pages of 2023.

This is a time of year I love and mostly hate, for more reasons than will ever receive a full accounting here. I take little comfort in year-end lists, Auld Lang Syne or New Year’s resolutions. Possibly, having recently watched the wretched death of a mild-mannered grandparent who never made a life’s plan that didn’t go up in flames, I’m in crankier spirits than usual. But while knocking on the door of my 40th birthday, an occasion that has sometimes seemed out of reach and is now mere weeks away, I take some hard-won satisfaction in knowing that what I’ve got, I too have earned. And what I’m not, baby, I have learned.

Dixie Carter Sings the Springsteen Songbook

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On September 23, 2022

In Bad Decisions

Roger Federer’s final competitive match, a doubles pairing with Rafael Nadal, will be underway shortly at the Laver Cup, as soon as Andy Murray’s clash with Alex de Minaur concludes. I’ll turn up the television’s volume once Federer takes the court, but until then I’m trying to distract myself with music and, while perusing my tablet, landed on Bruce Springsteen.

Today is Springsteen’s 73rd birthday, a shocking number to a kid who grew up in the ’80s and still thinks of him as the energetic young rocker whose tight ass (her words, not mine) my token straight aunt ardently admired. In my younger days I listened more to his earlier work, and even crooned “Rosalita” to a girlfriend who indulged such nonsense despite my inability to carry a tune in a bucket.

As a woman lurching uncertainly toward middle age, I prefer his ’80s output, some of which—like “Brilliant Disguise” and other tracks from Tunnel of Love—is far more devastating to 39-year-old ears than it was to a clueless 20-something. My favorite Springsteen song comes from that decade: “I’m on Fire,” also known as “the creepy one.”

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Heaven Must’ve Sent Lamont Dozier

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On August 9, 2022

In Obituaries

Click for Bonnie Pointer’s “Heaven Must Have Sent You” performance on YouTube (opens new tab).

I don’t write much about my Motown fanaticism, but my music library tells the tale. And much of that magic was supplied by the brilliant songwriting team known as “HDH,” Holland-Dozier-Holland. Dozier’s son announced his death on Instagram today.

If you’re a fan of The Four Tops in particular (I’ll resist making jokes, just this once), you’re a fan of HDH. If you love the Coen Brothers, you’re likely also an admirer of Dozier’s—it’s hard to imagine Blood Simple without “It’s the Same Old Song.”

Dozier published a book a few years ago, How Sweet It Is: A Songwriter’s Reflections on Music, Motown and the Mystery of the Muse. Super-fans who’ve not yet read it should head to the library today. His music is ours to love forever, no “guessing” about it.

RELATED: Lamont Dozier, Motown Songwriter Behind Countless Classics, Dead at 81

Sia’s “Hostage,” and a Walk Down Memory Lane

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On June 25, 2022

In Stories of Triumph and Inspiration

The first time I saw my wife it was February; I was as miserable as a woman could be, and unfit for human company. Still, there was a jolt of recognition, a feeling that if we met in better times, we would surely become friends. Our maiden introduction had gone absolutely nowhere, but when our paths crossed again that summer, a tentative bond began to flourish.

It was soon apparent that she was interested in something more, but I felt incapable of it. At the same time, I knew that if I ever rejoined the living she was someone I would’ve pursued. She was intelligent, mature, rational, kind and terrifyingly ambitious, all qualities I greatly valued—and she could quickly and unerringly select the right Arrested Development quote for every occasion. More than anything, I admired her emotional strength, deep reserves of empathy and dedication to a job that required every bit of both.

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Sometimes the Headlines Write Themselves

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On February 18, 2009

In Outings

It’s been a while since we last flipped through the pages of British tabloids (one can only stomach so many stories about little boys who might be fathers; and previously reviled cancer-stricken reality TV stars who are contemplating dying on camera), but today I saw a headline I couldn’t resist: “Gay City Roller.”

If you think you know where this is headed — that a member of the Bay City Rollers, a group I’m more familiar with as a punch line than as musicians (my middle-aged mom was more of a Carole King and Carly Simon girl in her youth) — has come out of the closet, you’re right. Sort of.

Singer Les McKeown, who fronted the band for most of the ’70s, admitted during an appearance on the British TV show Rehab (which is apparently similar to VH1’s Celebrity Rehab, a program I hope that none of you watch — there are much better things you could be doing with your time, and it wouldn’t kill you to read a book or take your dog for a walk or something) that he’s been shtupping guys throughout his lengthy marriage to a woman.

The revelation struck the Daily Mail as scandalous, but in reviewing the old photos of McKeown that accompany the article, I’m finding their shock a wee bit disingenuous. For a less tabloidy take on McKeown and his struggles with substance abuse, Scotland on Sunday has an interview with him that doesn’t feature any sidebar links to stories about Posh Spice or Kylie Minogue.

For anyone too lazy or disinterested to click the links, McKeown would like to stay married to his wife despite his interest in men, which is the only thing that prevented me from calling this post “Pop Star Everyone Thought Was Gay Shocks World By Revealing He’s Gay (And It’s Not Ricky Martin).” I mean, I may not be familiar with their music, but who hasn’t heard the “Gay City Rollers” jokes a million times by now?

As a parting bonus, here’s a 30-year-old picture of Les doing a somewhat drunken and dim-witted looking version of jazz hands.

Kelly Clarkson Denies Being a Lesbian, Doesn’t Deny Mediocrity*

By

On February 4, 2009

In Music

“Why would anyone think I’m a lesbian?”

My sister alerted me to this. I believe her exact words were “Kelly Clarkson says she isn’t gay,” followed by maniacal laughter. So there you have it: My sister is skeptical. As for Kelly herself, it’s true that she recently told the web site PopEater she isn’t gay, explaining: “I could never be a lesbian. I would never want to date [someone like] myself, ever. I’m a crazy person. I need some kind of stable, quiet man.” (No word on whether that means she’s bisexual…)

I’ll admit that I’m not quite sure I buy what Kelly’s selling here, but I get why she seized the opportunity to elucidate her heterosexuality. A simple Google search shows that a lot of people think she’s gay, and she has a new album to promote. What I don’t get is why she thinks that being a lesbian means she’d have to date someone like herself. It’s not like one woman is every woman (unless she’s Chaka Khan), so her logic underwhelms. Her comments about feminism weren’t much better, which is why I suggest forgetting all about the PopEater interview and taking a gander at this picture of Kelly that was snapped at the Playboy Club a few months ago instead. She’s posing like fucking Papi from The L Word, people. Wake up and smell the flannel shirts.

*About the headline: I don’t really think Kelly Clarkson sucks. (Anyone who sings “Crimson and Clover” in concert without changing the lyrics is all right with me.) It was just really hard to pass up using a headline like that.

Weren’t These Tracks on “M!ssundaztood?”

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On October 10, 2008

In Uncategorized

I think this photo speaks for itself.

When you’re reading a review of a cabaret show and come across a description that says “over the course of 60 minutes, and in about 10 songs” the performer sings about “the ubiquity of fanny packs on lesbians, the need for upper-body strength in lesbian sex, finding your soulmate on the Internet, and an affinity for U-Hauls,” the first thing that probably comes to mind is: Oh, Pink’s collaborating with Linda Perry again.

The culprits are actually Amy Turner and Kathryn Lounsbery, a musical-comedy duo I hadn’t heard of before reading this review of That’s What She Said! — a review that’s particularly charming because gay-but-not-lesbian critic Richard Dodds doesn’t know what the hell they’re talking about with the upper-body strength thing.

A bit of research shows that Turner and Lounsbery are trying to “make the world smile — one dyke at a time” (good luck with that, you crazy kids) and that they share a fondness for colorful jackets; you can check out their music online. For their next trick, I want them to write a song about how every third lesbian is named Amy. That function was previously filled by the ever-popular Tammy, but then the ’90s happened and many a young Amy who’d been born in the mid-to-late seventies discovered the riot grrrl scene and women’s studies programs. Just like that, Amy was all the Sapphic rage.

Sapphic rage, by the way? Another great topic for a song. Or an opera. An opera set at MichFest. Lea DeLaria can star. Anyone who wants to develop this idea should contact my people immediately, before Joel Schumacher snaps it up for Gerard Butler.

Claymates Face the Music

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On September 24, 2008

In Outings

Now that Clay Aiken has officially come out of the closet, calling the move “the first decision I made as a father,” his most outspoken fans, the oft-mocked Claymates, are slowly inching from bargaining to acceptance. I’ve been observing their reactions from afar since last night, when the ban on the People cover story discussion was lifted at The Clayboard and members commenced consoling each other and weighing in on the announcement.

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