May 28, 2003
The Matrix Vs Liz Phair

I was one of the people referred to in this article who were holding out for Liz to find her way back to the Exile in Guyville brilliance of yester-year.

Man, what happens to people?

Posted by at May 28, 2003 03:07 PM
Comments

I think she got married.

Posted by: D on May 28, 2003 05:09 PM .

...and divorced. Now she's apparently living out her mid-30s-sexual-prime/celebrity-fuelled fuck-fantasies. So reads the press release...

I shared a bill with Ms. Phair on the weekend in Vancouver. She was wearing an awful lot of makeup, but she was friendly enough. (She told our guitar player she was "totally jamming" along to our set. We chose to take that as a compliment.)

In all honesty, her vibe seemed to imply that she was genuinely happy to be there. And frankly, she should be. Why? Because she's on the road to getting rich doing very easy--and in her league, still fairly glamorous--work, and has, by openly 'selling out', absolved herself of any responsibility she might have had as some kind of respected spokesperson for a subculture of ostensibly intelligent, notoriously hard-to-please young adults. The pressure's off, money's on the horizon, sex is great--what could be better?

I ask you, what could be better?

Posted by: Albertross on May 28, 2003 07:04 PM .

Oh, I don't know, maybe if she continued to express herself and didn't give money to Avril Lavigne's songwriters to do it for her? If she wrote something about being her age? I mean don't get me wrong, I'm happy she's having lots of sex and getting rich, but lots of people do that, and it doesn't mean it doesn't represent something of a death of their ideals.

Posted by: y on May 28, 2003 07:57 PM .

Or, I should say, the ideals that made them interesting in the first place.

Posted by: on May 28, 2003 07:58 PM .

How was that show anyway? What are The Flaming Lips Really like In Person?

Posted by: on May 28, 2003 07:59 PM .

Re: Phairground Attractions

It's been proven an incredibly rare occurrence for a musical artist in the modern era to last longer than 10 years--or to survive a significant evolution in their public image. Liz was all about being a little girl singing dirty words. Obviously, that shit don't fly when you're 36. So now, instead, she sings about getting it on with "barely legal" skateboarders. Fine, right? That's still honest, albeit slightly less titillating and relevant to me than a sweet, cooler-than-ice twenty-something-year-old indie vixen singing about how she likes to give head. But I digress. I think Liz Phair gave hard-core rock nerds all she had to give on that first record--I'd like to point out, my dear , that she's released two phairly dreadful records since Exile on Guyville (Supernova, Whitechocolatespaceegg--remember those?) So at the end of the day, I think if you're looking for a career auteur on par with, say, a Don Henley, you're barking up the wrong tree here.

I had a surreal conversation with Wayne Coyne--we exchanged standard niceties for the most part, but I was sitting on the ground, catchin' some rays before our set behind the Plaza of Nations when he walked out of a porta-potty and came over to say hello. He was standing over me, with the setting sun directly behind his head. (My bandmate was convinced he did that on purpose.) Anyhoo, he's a nice fellow. Very personable. As is keyboardist/ex-drummer Steven. But they both had an edge to their demeanor--a certain barrier or a distance that suggested "Every night for the past three years of my life, people I don't know have come up to me to tell me how great I am." I can't fault them for that. Talking to strangers is weird, and when it's a part of your job, well... you develop ways of dealing with it. In other words, having a casual conversation with the Flaming Lips isn't like talking to the guy you go bowling with every Wednesday night. And having watched their entire set from the stage, I should add that even for me, the jaded "fellow musician", it was hard not to be a little starstruck, 'cause I reckon it'll be a long while before I get to play in a band THAT good.

This is funny--Wayne asked a couple of us if we wanted to be among his dancing animals for the show. I asked, "Well... um, how recently have those costumes been dry-cleaned?" "They're not too bad, actually--they've only been worn about three times since their last cleaning. And we mostly just get pretty girls to wear them, so they don't usually stink of festering man sweat or anything." We politely declined his offer, opting to drink beer and "just enjoy the show" instead. I happened to be parked right behind the dancing animals on the left side of the stage for the majority of the Lips' set. Five songs in, the diminutive elephant in front of me removed its head to reveal the face of a pretty young girl. She was sweaty and seemed to be basking in the luxury of unfettered breathing. "Hey--how does it smell in there?" I queried, over the din of a dying wave of applause. Smiling, somewhat delirious, she shouted back:

"Like rotting piss!!"

Posted by: Alberta-Ross on May 29, 2003 06:23 PM .

My, that is funny shit!

Posted by: on May 29, 2003 07:06 PM .

So really, you think about Liz Phair getting rich and getting laid and you can feel happy about her singing "Complicated"?

Were you just being sarcastic Al, or was that for real?!

Posted by: on May 31, 2003 12:47 AM .

Never mind.

Posted by: on June 1, 2003 12:49 PM .

Do not read this fortune under penalty of law.
Violators will be prosecuted.
(Penal Code sec. 2.3.2 (II.a.))

Posted by: Party Poker on November 4, 2004 01:40 AM .
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