NEW goodies coming SOON for DIGITAL distribution from Big Milo Records/VYJ2!!
It's the premier Big Milo Records/VYJ2 release from:
Tori Fixx..."The Fixxology" (VBIG-CD-1402 / 8 12782 81402 3)
Tori Fixx’s Digital Only “The Fixxology” Release Slated for December 8
(Los Angeles, CA) Big Milo Records announces a new Tori Fixx release set for December 8, 2009. The project is a DIGITAL-only release entitled “The Fixxology” and is a completely remastered compilation anthology of Tori Fixx’s decade of work...plus remixes and two new tracks that indicate his new musical direction.
“The Fixxology” highlights fan favorites from his decade of work and also familiarizes others to the artist’s older material that many new fans may not be aware of. “The Fixxology” features remixes of “Respect the Situation,” “Take Care of U,” “1 Mo’ Nite,” and a completely transformed “Reciprocity,” which is the first official radio single. All tracks on “The Fixxology” have been completely remastered and brought up to modern production levels. This is Tori Fixx today, yesterday...and yet to come!
“The Fixxology” will be released on December 8, 2009, with an MSRP of $9.99 for the full release of 21 tracks. Certain songs will only be available with purchase of the entire “The Fixxology” release.
Tori Fixx is a producer and out hip hop artist who has released over 7 albums in his career - his music is a blend of hip hop, funk, soul, and pop. He has been profiled in The Advocate and Out Magazine. He has also appeared on the Tyra Banks Show and CNN's Paula Zahn Now. He was just nominated for two Outmusic Awards for material released in 2008, ("I'm the Same," also on "The Fixxology") as well as Producer of the Year for his remix of Guy B's "Co-Exist."
Showing posts with label Dancers. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Dancers. Show all posts
Wednesday, November 11, 2009
Thursday, June 4, 2009
When You "Walk Like An Egpytian" I "Can Can" See Your Camel Toe
A couple of weeks ago, I went to Bristol, Connecticut to visit David's family. The first night, we had a dilemma. David's niece, Emily, had a major dance recital. His nephew, Mitchell, had a little league game at the same time. Before leaving, I suggested that we attend whichever event the parents were unable to attend. When we arrived in Bristol we discovered that my future sister-in-law had issued an executive order, and Mitchell found himself in full on little league gear attending his sisters dance recital.
Along with every parent in the Greater New London area.
The dance recital was at a local Catholic high school. Upon entering the school, we were greeted by a crucifix with our lord and savior Jesus Christ, his arms outstretched, and a look on his face pleading passersby to let him down off that damn piece of wood already.
We entered the auditorium to find it packed with easily 500 parents, grandparents, and siblings of the dancers. Upon perusing the brochure, I found that the recital was actually split into four acts. Each act contained roughly two million performances. I tried to run for the exit, but there was a line of geriatrics waving gaudy bouqets determined to get to their seats before the Second Coming. I debated for a minute whether or not I should body check an old lady with a walker and hearings aids and make a break for it, but my Mama raised me right, plus, I wanted to make a good impression David's parents.
The recital was worse than I could have ever imagined.
Seriously, if Dick Cheney had appeared in a ball of flame smelling of Preparation H, KY, and poppers and offered to sodomize me with a pineapple dipped in sulfuric acid but get a free pass out of the recital hall or watch the show...I would have considered taking his offer.
The show began with adorable little girls in spangles and sparkles bobbing off tune to various “childrens” version of adult songs...such as a remake of Iko Iko that made me want to have my flag boy set the stage on fire.
At one point, a soloist took the stage. She was a buxom chick named Erica. When she walked on stage, half the high school aged men in the audience (and some of their fathers) popped obvious wood and started screaming her name. She had a ballet solo. I would not be overly harsh in saying that Corky from TV's Life Goes On would have been a more compelling dancer.
There was a moment of levity when a troupe of middle school girls took the stage. David's sister-in-law's sister leaned over and told us that one of the young things on stage was Mitchell's ex-girlfriend. They had dated for a week. She broke Mitchell's heart. At the end of her performance, Mitchell gave her a standing ovation. Straight men. Who can understand 'em?
Of course, it was suburban Connecticut, so there had to be some cultural appropriation. It took the form of a dozen adorable girls in mini-skirt kimonos doing a fan dance. My great-aunt was a real live geisha...I was offended on her behalf. But..the girls were cute and the dance was one of the best. But it was wrong and they should be ashamed.
The most hilarious, and the most ridiculous, moment of the evening came when a group of high school dancers, including Erica of Corky fame, took the stage and did the can can. I have never seen that much camel toe proudly displayed in my entire life. I mean, it looked like a herd of tourists on a ride through the Sahara desert up there. I swear I saw one of the girls' vagina grow a hump and spit.
In the end, the best performance was by Emily and her middle school gal pals. They were dressed as a bunch of escapees from I Dream Of Jeannie....and did a dance performance to “Walk Like An Egpytian.” I love the Bangles, and I used to watch the video of that song as a young lad simply for the moment when the shirtless football player walked like an Egyptian across the screen and into my pants.
After Emily's first performance (she was scheduled for two), we grabbed David's parents and beat a hasty retreat before the cackles from our row incited a riot from the parents that saw future Dancing with the Stars contestants on stage.
The minute I got into open space, safe from the bedazzled parents and their children in bedazzled spandex, I laughed so hard that my mangina spit.
Bristol, CT is WAY cooler than Bristol Palin.
P.S. There was one boy performer amongst the women folk...he was obviously a baby homo.
Along with every parent in the Greater New London area.
The dance recital was at a local Catholic high school. Upon entering the school, we were greeted by a crucifix with our lord and savior Jesus Christ, his arms outstretched, and a look on his face pleading passersby to let him down off that damn piece of wood already.
We entered the auditorium to find it packed with easily 500 parents, grandparents, and siblings of the dancers. Upon perusing the brochure, I found that the recital was actually split into four acts. Each act contained roughly two million performances. I tried to run for the exit, but there was a line of geriatrics waving gaudy bouqets determined to get to their seats before the Second Coming. I debated for a minute whether or not I should body check an old lady with a walker and hearings aids and make a break for it, but my Mama raised me right, plus, I wanted to make a good impression David's parents.The recital was worse than I could have ever imagined.
Seriously, if Dick Cheney had appeared in a ball of flame smelling of Preparation H, KY, and poppers and offered to sodomize me with a pineapple dipped in sulfuric acid but get a free pass out of the recital hall or watch the show...I would have considered taking his offer.
The show began with adorable little girls in spangles and sparkles bobbing off tune to various “childrens” version of adult songs...such as a remake of Iko Iko that made me want to have my flag boy set the stage on fire.
At one point, a soloist took the stage. She was a buxom chick named Erica. When she walked on stage, half the high school aged men in the audience (and some of their fathers) popped obvious wood and started screaming her name. She had a ballet solo. I would not be overly harsh in saying that Corky from TV's Life Goes On would have been a more compelling dancer. There was a moment of levity when a troupe of middle school girls took the stage. David's sister-in-law's sister leaned over and told us that one of the young things on stage was Mitchell's ex-girlfriend. They had dated for a week. She broke Mitchell's heart. At the end of her performance, Mitchell gave her a standing ovation. Straight men. Who can understand 'em?
Of course, it was suburban Connecticut, so there had to be some cultural appropriation. It took the form of a dozen adorable girls in mini-skirt kimonos doing a fan dance. My great-aunt was a real live geisha...I was offended on her behalf. But..the girls were cute and the dance was one of the best. But it was wrong and they should be ashamed.
The most hilarious, and the most ridiculous, moment of the evening came when a group of high school dancers, including Erica of Corky fame, took the stage and did the can can. I have never seen that much camel toe proudly displayed in my entire life. I mean, it looked like a herd of tourists on a ride through the Sahara desert up there. I swear I saw one of the girls' vagina grow a hump and spit.
In the end, the best performance was by Emily and her middle school gal pals. They were dressed as a bunch of escapees from I Dream Of Jeannie....and did a dance performance to “Walk Like An Egpytian.” I love the Bangles, and I used to watch the video of that song as a young lad simply for the moment when the shirtless football player walked like an Egyptian across the screen and into my pants. After Emily's first performance (she was scheduled for two), we grabbed David's parents and beat a hasty retreat before the cackles from our row incited a riot from the parents that saw future Dancing with the Stars contestants on stage.
The minute I got into open space, safe from the bedazzled parents and their children in bedazzled spandex, I laughed so hard that my mangina spit.
Bristol, CT is WAY cooler than Bristol Palin.
P.S. There was one boy performer amongst the women folk...he was obviously a baby homo.
Friday, January 16, 2009
Four Women: A New Poem
This poem is the second poem I have written while David and I have been at a museum. Each time we travel, we take trips to local museums. So far, we have taken in the Walker Art Museum, the Met, the Ft. Lauderdale Museum of Art, and the Walter Museum. Our next poetry book joint project will be us traveling to different museums around the world. David will create art inspired by the collections, and I will craft poetry from the experiences. I can't wait. We will be heading to Bali, Shanghai, and Bangkok this summer to kick it off.
This poem was inspired by three statues and a painting by Carlos Luna at the Ft. Lauderdale Museum.
Four Women
She sits in cherry wood
iron back telling wide hipped stories
of constant longings
each desire guided by the tilt of her head
the specific degrees of her sadness
caught in red grains
hand smoothed by a masterful artist
and this one bare chested dreaming
of flights over the sun
art deco fantasy
she bronzely smiles
tasting freedoms outside the turn of the century
striding above the restrictions of a cast iron world, she
steps lightly into a starry night
and she
she heaves illusions into incredulous faces
cross armed
she is a dancer at rest
she is elegance
her tango not for sale
downstairs she frowns
glassed away from the moon
and what brilliance this Cuban moon
shining in colores caribeños
fighting cocks and guajira breasts
amidst festivals of the dead
she lays blue haired on the backs of crocodiles
horizontal goddess of the exiled
hands tracing lines in water
writing stories with azure endings
-Brandon Lacy Campos
-January 16, 2009
-Oakland, CA
This poem was inspired by three statues and a painting by Carlos Luna at the Ft. Lauderdale Museum.
Four Women
She sits in cherry wood
iron back telling wide hipped stories
of constant longings
each desire guided by the tilt of her head
the specific degrees of her sadness
caught in red grains
hand smoothed by a masterful artist
and this one bare chested dreaming
of flights over the sun
art deco fantasy
she bronzely smiles
tasting freedoms outside the turn of the century
striding above the restrictions of a cast iron world, she
steps lightly into a starry night
and she
she heaves illusions into incredulous faces
cross armed
she is a dancer at rest
she is elegance
her tango not for sale
downstairs she frowns
glassed away from the moon
and what brilliance this Cuban moon
shining in colores caribeños
fighting cocks and guajira breasts
amidst festivals of the dead
she lays blue haired on the backs of crocodiles
horizontal goddess of the exiled
hands tracing lines in water
writing stories with azure endings
-Brandon Lacy Campos
-January 16, 2009
-Oakland, CA
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