Last night Cameron Mesirow aka Glasser appeared on Jimmy Fallon to perform “Mirrorage,” one of the darker tracks on her debut album Ring, in her network television debut. Kudos to the Fallon team for inviting this relatively obscure ingénue onto the show.
The spell is broken when the song actually starts and Gaga declares, “Just put your paws up.” But then we’re under another spell: that of the skinnier, more maniacal dancer and seeming perfume ad model that is Gaga in 2011.
This is a perfect tale for a dreary Friday, and there’s a video to boot. An elderly dog named Turbo, a Doberman, disappeared from his home in Florida earlier this week, and was found hours later floating in a canal by a neighbor, who was able to pull the dog out. And how did she notice he was there?
It is irritating to keep finding new, yuppie words on the Times website, but at the same time, I want one of these “microhouses.” You can learn how to make such things by watching Diedricksen’s YouTube series “Tiny Yellow House” (the first episode is above, and in it he teaches you how to make a “hickshaw — a rickshaw for hicks”).
The Kindle is the superior reading device because apart from the “Experimental” section, which allows you to listen to mp3s and browse the Web, all you can do is read. Who would want to browse the Web on a Kindle? It’s a horrible experience, like playing an educational computer game in a school library in 1991.
Waiting for Bat for Lashes’ third album becomes slightly less torturous with the release of her cover of Depeche Mode’s “Strangelove,” commissioned by Gucci for its fragrance Guilty.
If Stoute is saying that the Grammy committee selected Spalding and Arcade Fire just to get people glued to their screens and talking for hours on end after the ceremony was over, he’s wrong. Both these things happened, but is it so hard to believe that the message might actually have been, “We want more of you to think the Grammys are relevant, so we’re going to start paying attention to some of the artists that you actually pay attention to”?
Of all the talented wackadoodles on this season of American Idol, including a gangly California surfer who looks like a Dr. Seuss character and a waifish, freckled, anxiety-ridden girl who sings to her Iraq veteran boyfriend up in the balcony, melodica-toting Casey Abrams is probably the most lovable.
The trailer suggests Norwegian Wood, which was featured at last year’s Venice Film Festival, will capture some of the visual magic that the book suggests, but it looks to be mostly a straightforward, of-this-world production, which might make readers wonder if they’d been tripping when they read the book.
I don’t suspect my female forebears had a craving for red nail polish, but it is comforting to think that these days, fewer and fewer people would even blink at the sight of anyone wearing any color of nail polish, least of all red. Nor would they necessarily mind if a woman had crooked seams in her hose, or if she didn’t “dress for breakfast.”