And, we’re back. So what better way to return than with some messy, trippy, funny, sexy queer gal drama? The new film “The Nowhere Inn” is part concert documentary, part satirical autobiography, part exes working through their feelings – and all something gay women will likely watch and have definite opinions on.
Former lovers (sorry, I know you can’t say that unless proceeded by the word “pizza” or followed by the word “Cindi”) made a movie together about, well, themselves I think. Singer-songwriter Annie Clark/St. Vincent and her ex Carrie Brownstein of “Portlandia” and Sleater-Kinney and The Lesbian Eyeore fame made a movie together that’s a very meta look at their lives – and looks pretty funny as well. Also there’s Dakota Johnson and St. Vincent canoodling like gal pals in lingerie, as one does. So there’s that. Also, let me tell you, you can go down some queer lady rabbit holes looking about Dakota and, you know what, I’ve spent worse ways whiling away the hours.
We’ve almost made it through our second March of this pandemic. And the light at the end of the COVID tunnel feels so near. In a week I get my second vaccine, and by May everyone across the country should be eligible. It’s gonna be a good summer, dammit. So to get ready, please relive possibly the sexiest Grammy duet ever. St. Vincent. Dua Lipa. Watch it again and get ready to touch other human beings very, very soon. Happy Monday, kittens.
p.s. Anti-vaxx bullshit will be summarily deleted, as will other pandemic conspiracy nonsense. Thank you, science. We’d never get out of this if we had to only rely on each other.
Holy crap, were the Grammys…good? I think they were – and I can’t believe I’m saying this – good. Like, really good. The opposite of bad. Good. Granted, I watched them on time delay and got to fast forward through all of the commercials, speeches by the recording industry president and performances by male artists. But what I did see was honest to goodness enjoyable.
Like. Wow, that was fun. Let’s watch it again enjoyable. And much of that was thanks to queer female artists. Specifically Janelle Monae, Brandi Carlile and St. Vincent.
These ladies were, well, they were good.
Let’s start with Janelle Monae. The Empress of Bisexual Lighting “The Way You Make Me Feel” with just a touch of “Pynk” thrown in for good measure. And it was a precision clinic on coolness in all of its James Brown/Prince/Full Monae goodness.
And then there was Brandi. Our gal took home three Grammys in the untelevised part of the show (for Best Roots Performance, Song and Album). After an evening of high-octane female performers (admit it, the dudes all sucked in comparison) her raw and powerful vocals managed to still stand out amid the crowd. We gay gals are feeling pretty rightfully smug these days as the rest of the world finally catches on to Brandi’s greatness. Yeah, we knew her before the Grammys.
Also, during one of her untelevised acceptance speeches, she said this which is just another reminder of why we loved Brandi first.
And then, in the most unexpectedly spectacular coupling of the night, queer artist St. Vincent and singer Dua Lipa performed a mash-up of their hits “Masseduction” and “One Kiss,” respectively – with a little Aretha’s “R-E-S-P-E-C-T” thrown in for kicks. But it was how they performed it that was…sexy. It was so, so, so sexy. Like lesbian twinning dominatrixes sexy. I have watched it close to a dozen times and that might be a conservative estimate.
Well, like I was saying, I think the Grammys did not suck. (OK, maybe JLo’s Motown tribute wasn't the best, but still). Between all the above goodness and seeing Dolly Parton and Diana Ross and Michelle Obama kill it on the same stage. Well, yeah, the Grammys were good.
