Please, meet Alabee, the newest member of the Rude Manor plastic clan :



Sorry for the horrid cell phone pic, but I'm too busy to do a proper photoshoot today (and the results wouldn't be *that much* better anyway).

Alabee's name has been picked by Thierry. She's named after a song from Of Montreal, one of our current favorite bands. We saw them in a small club in May and I had a great, uplifting time, just like I had when I saw the Flaming Lips (which inspired me to call my BBB Yoshimi).

If you want to watch the video for Alabee's song, just clickey :



Blythou out.

My honeymoon with Pinku2 ain't over yet... That little phone is just a darling. Its camera works relatively well (see pics on my Flick'r if you need evidence), it has MP3 ringtones and it's easy to use.

So far, I've customised it by adding a bunch of danglies, a Stitch screensaver and a Stitch background pic and I've created user groups which all have a special ringtone.

- Thierry's got his own group with "Like A Bad Girl Should" (the verse which says "I love your ass/for bad or worse, etc. I'm a romantic)
- Friends have The White Stripes "My Doorbell" (I'm thinking about my doorbell/When you're gonna ring it, etc.)
- Colleagues have the BRMC and "Whatever Happened to My Rock'n'Roll" (I fell in love with a sweet sensation..)
- Family have The Von Bondies "C'mon C'mon" (I chose it because of the feud involving Jack White and What's His Name from the Von Bondies... Families ain't easy to deal with, you know...)

My general ringtone is Pizzicato Five "Twiggy Twiggy". It's pop, it's fun, it's relatively obscure and it can be annoying, so it's the perfect choice.

The EVil Group has a particularly ugly electro ringtone that came with Pinku. Because they don't deserve any better.

Blythou out.

... and the festival season is starting. Strangely, this year, I don't have any festival lined up yet. And I miss it.

Even though I'm not a big fan of muddy grounds, port-a-potties and the smell of greasy burgers and sausages, I love festivals. I always meet a shitload of friends and colleagues there. I always manage to discover a good band or two.

And for some reason, the whole experience makes me feel alive and rejuvenated.

I guess I don't party enough ;-) This is why I miss gigs in the open air with a crappy sound, badly dressed crowds, loonies waving flags and drinking too much beer and other festival-induced horrors.

Blythou out.

Guess why ? Because I just work non-stop and when I don't, I hang out with friends and have a drink or five.

So, let's have a little life update, eh ?

My new book, the rock'n'roll chick survival guide, will be released in a matter of days and I'm doing a couple of signings next week. I've never done that, this is a leeeetle scary (what if nobody shows up ? what if only nasty assholes show up ?).

I suck beautifully at Guitar Hero. And I don't have a minute to spare to improve my non-existent skills.

I've pre-ordered the wii-fit. Next month, I'll get to do different work-outs to complete my daily dose of exercise. Yeah !

And finally, I'm feeding my new I-pod touch some fresh meat. Today's serving includes Johnny Cash, Iggy & The Stooges, Neil Young & Roy Orbison. And the Damned, because it puts me in the mood while I translate Punk The Whole Story (the huge Mojo book about punk rock). And I love their cover of Eloise, which is one of my favorite slices of over-the-top pop of all times. Hell, if I'd had a daughter, I would have called her Eloise after that song (and after the book, Eloise At The Plaza). And it's the name I've picked for my future chihuahua.

Oh, and while feeding my I-pod, I realised that I really like The Donnas' latest album, Bitchin'. It's basic, ballsy, cheesy, in-your-face metal/rock, the lyrics are all about sex and partying, but it somehow appeals to the zone of my brain that takes no offence when Led Zep and the Stones sing macho crap (while I usually go ballistic when I hear young women say "I'm not feminist" as if it was the grossest thing in the world... BECAUSE YOU'VE GOT TO BE A FEMINIST IF YOU'RE RIGHT IN YOUR MIND, BITCH, OOOPS, I MEANT GIRL).

Blythou out.

If you don't hear from me after saturday evening, it's because I'd probably drowned in a sea of mud. As usual, I'm covering the French festival Rock en Seine on Friday & Saturday. I'm excused on Sunday, as I figured that two WHOLE days knee-deep in mud will be enough for me.

So... I'm slowly getting prepared for two days in grungy jeans and rubber boots. I can't believe why every summer, the privileged inhabitants of the Western world suddenly feel the urge to live like Third World citizens after a natural disaster in a war zone.

At least, we have full access to the press headquarters where we have our private bar, our private toilets (with running water AND toilet paper, YEAHHHHH !) & seats if we need to chill (and we need to chill). And it's always a "back to school" like experience : you meet your colleagues, rivals and enemies and catch up while drinking (I can't remember drinking at school, though).

This year, I'm looking forward to seeing The Fratellis, the Jesus & Mary Chain, Dinosaur jr, Jarvis Cocker, CSS, The Noisettes & The Hives.

I'll avoid at all costs Faithless, Kelis, Enter Shikari, Arcade Fire and Biffy Clyro. And Björk. Yes, go ahead, throw rocks and bottles at me, I don't care.

As for the others... Well, I'll check them out between pee and bar breaks ;-)

Blythou out.

Taken from my interview with Jean-Benoît Dunckel from Air :

"Having Neil Hannon and Jarvis Cocker sing on the new album is great. They added a lot of testosterone to our music".

I couldn't help but think this was very cute. From anyone but a member of Air, I'd have thought it was ironic.
But no, they're like that. Innocent brilliant children prodigy trapped in adult bodies. And they're so sexless they actually think a gin-soaked effeminate Irish and a gangly bespectacled Brit geek are testosterone-fuelled macho singer.

I don't want Air to ever come across Henry Rollins. They'd probably be killed by his pheromones. And that'd be a terrible loss for contemporary music.

Blythou out.