After a brief, one-week hiatus from posting naked photos to the blogosphere, I'm back with a few to share from last night's incredible Swampy Draws performance at the world-famous Swiss Pub!
Friends, family, fans.
The man, the myth, the legend: Swampy Draws himself!
Two of my Valentine's Day gifts from my special someone. "The Immortal Otis Redding" (a thoughtful alternative to me having to skip tons of songs on my Otis Redding Pandora station to get more OTIS!) and the original version of one of my all-time Karaoke songs: Roberta Flack's "Killing me Softly." (I usually sing the Fugees version for its hip-hop qualities. 'Cuz you know, I feel like I got some pretty cool hip-hop moves...)
I also got "The Brick" (don't ask) and "Harry Belafotnte's Greatest Hits" on vinyl, as well as Marvin Gaye's Greatests on compact disk.
In celebration of Neil Harris' birthday and Jason Locking's release from the hospital/stabilized health, a good ol' fashioned rock show was in order.
The New Frontier was literally packed to capacity, and The Wheelies, Gold Teeth and The Fucking Eagles rocked the house, taking up whatever breathing room was left with
the all out beer-can-chucking, bass-pinata-smashing, ass-off-dancing that ensued.
Happy Birthday Neil, and welcome back Jason!
Tacoma loves you both, so take care of yourselves in your old age and frail health, dammit!
xo
Friday, January 14, 2011
My love for Leopard-print shoes. On Steroids.
Yes, I purchased these today. (How could I not?) And yes, I wore them. Out. To karaoke. There was dancing involved.
(Serious dancing. Serious enough for Kat to tear her ACL. Recover soon, Kat!)
Not only are these the most awesomely-over-the-top shoes I've ever owned, they are also the most comfortable heels I've ever worn...(and I am so not a "heel person.")
Platforms take the edge of high-assed heels, I guess. They also make you freaking tall.
I only hope Gaga is as proud of me as I am. I didn't even have to switch to my leopard-print flats I brought along in my purse, just in case.
With very little coaxing, my dad took the stage at the New Frontier's inaugural "Open Mic Night" today. It was pretty awesome.
He jammed out a few super cool bluesy numbers, all tunes I can recall him casually strumming throughout my youth. It was heartwarming and nostalgic and all that...
But more importantly, this event marks the second time a parent of mine has been on stage at this venue in a little over a week, which was definitely unexpected but totally awesome (you may remember my mom's enthusiastic rendition of "These Boots Are Made For Walking" at my birthday party last Sunday.)
If you really sit down and crunch the numbers, it means 100 percent of my biological upbringers are shameless hams (and in turn solves the mystery of where I picked up that endearing trait...)
I texted this epic picture of my dad on stage to my best friend, Rianne, and she said "I think the Jensen's missed their calling in life... you should have been the Partridge Family."
And she may be onto something.
I'd be willing to bet the handful of us (including my sister Rachel on tambourine, brother Lars on bass, Dad on guitar, Mom on "backup" vocals, and me taking the lead with my often screeching karaoke-styled-singing) could make something of a musical super group.
I only wish we would have thought of this before we lost our drummer.
Pretty much my best girlfriends rioght heear, give or take a couple. Note fellow birthday girl Kat, center, complete with flashy panther bling. We pre-funked at my place before hitting up Guads for karaoke and dancing Saturday night.
Me in my new dress on my last day as a 23-year-old.
Super fun night at the New Frontier with whiskey, family, close friends, and live music.
Perfection!
The aforementioned whiskey.
My awesome mom and Sean performing Nancy Sinatra's "These Boots are Made for Walking."
Brother Lars and Papa Rob.
Red wine and red velvet cake at my mother's house for dinner on the "actual day."
This is where I've been spending a lot of my time over the past month and a week.
It's my attempt to get buff, hard and tough.
Here's me today in between doubles (two sessions in a row.)
I look pretty buff, hard and tough, right?!
(humor me.)
I'm linking this up to my sister's photoblog's challenge "Show Me your Stuff," because obviously I am showing off some major stuff here.
For the top photo, I took it in class the other day when I wasn't working out. I wanted an image that included our trainer, Jeff, (black shirt, left) and a variety of people in action. As far as editing goes, I simply used levels adjustments to brighten the highlights and increase contrast, and then I sharpened for an "edgier" look.
For the second photo, I said "Court! Take a picture of me on your cell for my blog!" and then I grabbed a 20-pound weight, and there you have it. (I also made as "hard and tough" facial expression as I could render in between two, very high intensity workout sessions.)
Me, my big brother Pete and cousin Talia being really cool and trying to recreate my brother's Nirvana poster hanging behind us.
I was probably 7 or 8 in this picture, Pete about 10 and Talia probably 8 or 9.
I feel like this photo pretty much sums up Pete and I's youth, which was heavily influenced by music, as well as the sheer uncensoredness our parents had on what we listened to as kids.
Being the youngest of two super-cool big brothers and a sister, I was pretty much immersed in (what I still consider) 'good' music for as long as I can remember...
I was singing the Pixies' "Debaser" at age 5, trying to figure out how to play Rancid's "Time bomb" on my mom's piano at age 6 and naively impersonated Kurt Cobain with a rendition of "Rape Me" to my mother one morning (that did not go over well...)
A story I wrote and illustrated in second-grade prominently featured Kurt Loader, the Cranberries and several members of Greenday.
I was literally a poster-child* for '90s music, and I think this photo says it all...
Tonight was the culmination of the New Frontier's second-anniversary weekend-long Hootenanny...
It was quite the event; a veritable overload of good music, friends, fun, debauchery and general magicalness.
Owner Neil Harris took the stage for a few songs with his rag-tag band of local musicians Harry and the Hasbendersons (pictured here), Bob Hill and the Bluebillies played, as did Swampy Draws.
There wasn't any birthday cake, but there was whiskey, half naked woman, juggling and a hoppin' dance floor - the perfect way to officially ring in the New Frontier's third year as one of Tacoma's favorite music venues.
Buzz on guitar. Who says turtlenecks and farm animals aren't rock and roll?
Jared on bass. This was after he took off his sequined cape.
Dale and Coady's double drum finale.
The Melvins (which currently consists of founding member Buzz Osborne, long-time drummer Dale Crover, and the bass and drum duo Big Business ((comprised of former Karp front man Jared Willis and The Murder City Devils drummer Coady Willis))... get all that?)ROCKED Hell's Kitchen tonight.
I can't say I'm totally surprised, because the Melvins (especially in their current, aforementioned line-up) thoroughly rock, but I have to admit- I enjoyed the show even more than I thought I would.
For a band that has existed longer than I have been alive, the Melvins are a far cry from being old (even despite the gray hairs).
They are as deafening, energetic and creative as ever, and delivered a line-up that could do no wrong (they EVEN played a KARP song! I about fainted...)
Prior to the show, I was lucky enough to interview Buzz for a preview article in the Weekly.
At the show, I got to actually meet Jared and gush over his musical makings for a few.
(He said he didn't mind- his head can only get bigger. And for the record, his hair is already damn huge. I think even has Sean 'fro envy.)
James Hunnicut and The Painkillers also rocked the party.
They even had a vegetarian chili cheese dip.
WHAT?!
If I was a dude, I'd totally go back there during normal business hours when you can get a classic straight razor shave and a hot towel treatment while watching TV on the numerous sweet flat screens...
Five months ago, Kat and I bought tickets to see Lady Gaga perform at the Tacoma Dome literally the second they went on sale.
For months we dreamt of what it would be like to finally see her on the stage. What would we wear for the big day? What songs would she sing? Would she be everything we'd hoped for? More?
It was like being pregnant with Gaga.
Finally the big day arrived. We got to see her in action - large and in charge on the big, multi-tiered, fire-laden stage, with our very own eyes.
And just like what I would imagine giving birth to a child must be like, the event did not disappoint.
Us and 20,000 other "little monsters" oohed, ahhed, sang and danced to 1.5 hours of possibly one of the best pop-spectacles in the world's history.
I did the splits.Twice.
We both got teary-eyed during the show (one of us more than the other).
When it was over, we were filled to the brim with love, adoration, adrenaline and her catchy tunes.
I woke several times throughout the night with "Speechless" playing over and over in my head.
It was pure Gagadom.
I wasn't allowed to bring my "professional" camera to the general admission section of the dome, but we set up the tripod in Kat's backyard to get a couple shots of our Lady-Gaga-inspired duds before we strutted down McKinley Hill to the show...
.
Tiny-Dancer Gaga
God-Bless-America-for-Gaga Gaga
The amazing Lady herself photo by Rocky C. Ross, freelance photographer for the Tacoma Weekly.
Here's a sneak peek of what I will be donning Saturday night possibly one of the biggest nights of my life so far at the Lady Gaga concert in Tacoma's very own dome.
I had the hot-pants/suspenders/boots idea rolling around in my head for a while now, but it wasn't until Kat and mine's concert-gear-shopping-trip today that I took the patriotic-Gaga theme full force.
Because, let's face it:
if there were no such thing as America,
there would be no such thing as Lady Gaga,
and if there were no such thing as Lady Gaga,
this world would be
much
less
funky.
And frankly, I don't want to be apart a less funky world.
