Julie Gentron and the Lady League, Vol. 1, Ep. 4: Duty Calls

14 01 2012

Written by Brandon Arkell and Seth Gordon Little

Last time on the Lady League, the ladies encountered an obstacle course in the Kuiper Belt, but they were able to warp-drive their way back home to London with the help of Donna Destruction. At the landing pad, they met a mysterious, foreboding figure, Lady Fairfax, who scolded them over their tardiness.

“Lady Fairfax, I apologise”, cried Julie. “You see, we encountered a sort of obstacle course in the Kuiper Belt—”

“—Mere congestion, Gentron!” replied Fairfax, rolling in on her wicker wheelchair, cane in one hand and gin and tonic in the other. “You know that MI6 agents encounter such notorious bottlenecks every day. You can’t possibly see yourself as special in the strive to defend the galaxy against the horrors which lie beyond our thin atmosphere—the microbes of Mars’s half-frozen crust, the virulent tar-women of Io’s angry volcanoes, the space-whales of Saturn’s engorged rings?” She paused and looked about her, then tapped her cane. “Wh-wh-where do you expect me to place my gin and tonic, girl??”

“May I, Lady Fairfax?” offered Rosalind graciously. Fairfax acquiesced, harrumphing indignantly as Rosalind reverently placed the gin and tonic on the spaceship console. 

“Ladies”, cooed the venerable matron, “you are tardy for your next assignment. I have intelligence on a surreptitious figure rumoured to frequent the salons of Paris, the gay bathhouses of Seattle, the opium dens of Shanghai. It—for we do not yet know what shape it takes—traffics in something more precious than the methane riches of Titan itself. Humans!”

“Humans!” gasped the Lady League. Fairfax nodded soberly.

“I—I don’t understand”,  said Julie. “Why, we should have no trouble apprehending a mere slave-trader. We’ve done it before. Remember Slimeball and his power over slime? That’s how Rosalind joined the League. She was his captive aboard his Red Sea freighter, and we helped her escape.”

“This isn’t some seaborne skirmish, Gentron”, thundered Fairfax, thumping her cane. She resumed her milder tone. “Due either to some sort of genetic mutation or medical procedure, this—entity—has acquired a symbiotic relationship with a material we all know too well—far too well. And it is to our detriment. Plastic!” The girls shrieked. “This being has commandeered the entire plastic manufacturing industry of Europe. It has so insinuated its way into the beauty and fashion marketplace that one cannot slide on a condom or spear one’s beans with a cafeteria spork without this—thing—turning it against one. The Continent’s brightest plastic surgeons have either disappeared or fallen into secrecy, avowing nothing for fear of retribution. I am afraid Britain is Europe’s last bastion of defense”, she said gravely in her rich, woody Home Counties accent. “This thing, it seems to control certain people. It targets beauties—those who have fallen under the knife, as it were. Supermodels. Actors. Homosexual fashion critics. The list goes on. Our best biophysicists cannot crack this one, girls. Earth—the solar system—is at risk of falling prey to this fiend’s wiles. It has evaded my smartest agents, some of whom never returned from their missions. I fear the worst for them. I fear that they have become a part of its shapeless morass.”

“Fairfax, this is horrible!” cried Julie. “Why, it is inconsistent with the Lady League mission protocol to allow such a crime against humanity to be committed. What can we do to stop this—this creature?”

“Nothing—but to hate plastic!” cried Fairfax. “You must waste no time. Take nothing of plastic with you—it is the warhead of this hideous fiend. You must rely on your own feminine prowess now more than ever. Rosalind Armour, you possess superhuman strength and near-indestructible skin. Donna Destruction, you can move objects with the power of your mind. And, Julie Gentron, with the power of your mind you can control all technology, including the arsenal of deadly weapons implanted within your body by extraterrestrial beings. Surely”, she said, focussing her bespectacled eyes on Julie, “as director of the MI6, I can rely on you ladies to fulfil the objectives of this mission?”

“We will do everything in our power to smoke this fox out of its hole and put an end to it”, said Julie, “even if it requires digging our bare, hangnailed fingers into that hole.”

“Beautiful. You will commence your assignment forthwith by escorting famed New York fashion critic Simpson Oswald to his next fashion show”, said Fairfax, cringing slightly at the name. “He boasts a number of friends in the industry, but, recently, he has acquired a few enemies, so we have reason to suspect he is target number one for this—this—plastic demon. Yes, I know that the pansies can be rather flakey and out-of-touch with reality, but you, Julie, are wearing one of his creations”, she revealed, grabbing the gin-and-tonic back from the spaceship console.

“Really?” cried Julie, scanning her shapely physique up and down. It was a sheer, form-fitting, silvery-metallic suit which covered everything but her face, and was implanted with myriad wires and electrodes which channelled and amplified her thought patterns. Unbeknownst to Julie, the electronic armoury embedded within the suit was the work of the galaxy’s best British engineers–its true powers remained a sinister secret. She wondered at the thing she was wearing, Who am I? What am I?

“What about me??” cried Donna.

“You’re wearing nothing but a leftover tarp from last season’s Halloween sales rack at The Bay”, said Rosalind peremptorily.

“But it’s vintage!” cried Donna, “and it goes with my complexion! Doesn’t it?” There was an awkward pause as everybody else looked at her.

“Enough small talk!” said Fairfax impatiently, waving away Donna with her gin and tonic. “Ladies, you will escort this Oswald to his next show in Paris. As I have stated, he is most likely the fiend’s next target. But beware the plastic demon’s wiles. I warn you. It is as sly as a snake in grass, and it owns every blade.” At this, Julie knew exactly what to do.

“Lady League”, cried Julie, “unite!” The League spread their legs in a buffalo stance and joined fists—which included Lupa’s fin—and a beam of super-powered lady plasma shot forth, illuminating London’s dank, dirty nighttime skyline. The girls were hot and ready to cream that plastic bitch.

Stay tuned for the next instalment to find out what the Lady League do with their legs.





Tomorrow’s World

9 10 2011

I have been waiting for this day for four years, yet somehow it feels like just another release date. I guess I’m showing my age. Erasure have released Tomorrow’s World, named after the British 1980s science documentary series. And I have to say, with the help of Frankmusik, the album is awash in smooth, modern dance sensibility. Well, two-thirds of it, at least. The other third is a little bit more anchored in the soul-gospel balladry which places focus on lead singer Andy Bell’s distinctly bold voice. But, then, his voice soars in the dance tunes, too. The strength of the album is in how Andy’s voice–which sounds particularly strong and stable–glides atop the chic dance grooves.

Consider the track “I Lose Myself”, with its hard, deliberate rhythm and rich, unabashed vocals:

If you ask me, it sounds like a well-polished, modern twist on early New Order. But it hasn’t really been done before; it’s a new kind of fierce dance-pop. (By the way, New Order’s lead singer, Bernard Sumner, is releasing an electronic album soon.)

Now consider the more vulnerable sound of “Be With You”, characterized by an irresistibly loping beat and Andy’s longing, soaring voice:

This is the way ballads should sound: originally conceived to be slow, but re-interpreted as a dance track to inject a throbbing energy which only elevates the soulful vocals.

Then there is “A Whole Lotta Love Run Riot”, the ultimate cynical commentary on the vapidity of British club culture in the 2010s:

This song is like “I Lose Myself” in its intense, driving rhythm, but it is a little bit ironic how it criticizes the banality of modern British dance music while co-opting that same style and creating a much more lush, melodic, tightly-structured, tuneful sound–which is the way dance music should sound anyway.

Finally, we arrive at my favourite track, “Fill Us With Fire”. I like this track in particular because of my spiritual bent. (I believe in something greater than myself, but ultimately what matters is how we treat one another. Indeed, for me, that is the purpose of spirituality.) It is a rumination on the woes of humankind and a plea for rationality and self-reflection. At the same time, it doesn’t sound too didactic. It is truly a treat for the ears and the mind:

Something about this song evokes climbing a ladder. As I listen to the verse, then the bridge, and then, finally, the chorus, it feels as if I am ascending into a higher place. It is one of Erasure’s most divinely contemplative compositions, in my opinion. It is just sublime.

So that is the sound of Erasure circa 2011. The production was done by Frankmusik , a highly talented and emerging electronic dance artist. And we know the name-brand sound ofVince Clarke, a skilled and timeless “tone-smith” who creates the instrumental soundscape of Erasure, not to mention his bandmate Andy Bell, a prominent songwriter and vocalist. I cannot describe to you the amazing talent produced by Mute, which includes artists like Moby and Goldfrapp. Their skils combined, these individuals should make you shit tears of joy. Honestly.





Support Gay Youth! And Love!

16 12 2010

For me, the musical highlight of the year is the recent re-release of Erasure‘s “A Little Respect“, not only because the song is sublime musically, but also because every purchase of this track (on iTunes) is a donation to an organization devoted to the protection of rejected youth. This release is a re-recording of the original 1988 soul-pop anthem; this time around, though, it features the choir of the Hetrick-Martin Institute, a New York non-profit foundation dedicated to the nurturance and uplifting of lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgendered, and questioning youth. The Hetrick-Martin Institute is also the home of Harvey Milk High School, a high-school in Manhattan named after the gay San Francisco politician who was assassinated, and designed specifically for youth who have been rejected by their families because of which sex they are attracted to.

The Hetrick-Martin session of “A Little Respect” was motivated largely by the recent spate of gay teenage suicides attributed to bullying in the United States. The suicides have affected multiple races and genders–victims have been black and white, female and male. And, certainly, they have affected the poor as well, since so many distraught and runaway urban youth have few financial resources to depend on. And who cares whether they are gay? Straight people are oppressed for supposedly being gay, too. Consequently, the bullying epidemic has affected almost every class of society within the United States. Shouldn’t everybody be concerned?

The Huffington Post, an aggregated blog based in the United States, posted the original video for this re-recording, but it’s already on YouTube. I adore Andy Bell’s fluorescent make-up:


The song is unnerving. With its kaleidoscopic tapestry of guitar strings, adroit, gradual melodies, insistent bass-drums, and poignant, yearning lyrics, it is truly a hymn to the woes of the inner self, and the turmoil that lurks within. All of this is supplemented by a brand-new arrangement of elegant, sweeping synthesisers courtesy of veteran synthpop genius Vince Clarke, who forms a part of the band. (It does not hurt that the Hetrick-Martin choir assists lead vocalist Andy Bell in building a soul-based vocal ensemble.) Ultimately, it is a message of love and compassion. It always has been about love and compassion, hasn’t it?  That selflessly unfamiliar yet resounding source of pleasure and knowledge one has in the wellness of others? And not just love toward kin, but also love toward the alien. That kind of love is most constructive, most forgiving, most pure.

So while we should fight tenaciously for equality, we should also shed love and compassion on those we deem our “enemies”. Indeed, rather than describe them as “enemies”, we might try to describe them as neophytes to the art of liberalism. That is more diplomatic. This doesn’t mean they don’t do wrong–it only means that we should love them nonetheless, simply because love is good for people, and it makes them better. That is a hard feat to perform. But isn’t it good for all of us in the end?

But that is another blog entry.

Before I bore you to death–dance music! Andy Bell (the lead singer of Erasure) has been quite active in his solo career. Following up with his shamelessly beat-laden (and, oh, I  love it) album Non-Stop, Bell has released a double CD featuring the three singles “Running Out”, “Will You Be There”, and “Non-Stop”, off the same album. Those who adore the quasi-italo-disco sound of Vega or Neon Indian will most likely quiver with delight over this release, given the “Vega Italo Dub Mix” of “Running Out”, which was released under Bell’s club-friendly pseudonym “Mimó”. So we have a very active Andy Bell who enjoys the nightlife. So he should. I do.

And if that weren’t enough, Erasure are planning to release an all-analogue album in 2010. Don’t quote me on that. I remember it from the fan-page discussion threads, but the fan-site doesn’t have a search engine, so I can’t confirm. All I remember is hearing Vince Clarke saying that it would consist of a home-grown, original, analogue synthesiser sound, which is fantastic, since I’m so tired of that cheap, shitty, sampled digital crap which most dance/pop/rap artists use nowadays.

To top things off, these exponents of the pro-gay youth movement are planning to tour the British forests next year. Yes. That’s right. As part of the British Forestry Commission’s annual Live Music series (Britain still has forests, apparently, and its Forestry Commission entertains cutting-edge synthpop acts like Goldfrapp) Erasure will be playing their famed hits in places like Thetford Forest, near Brandon, in Suffolk. (The irony.) I didn’t think Britain had any more forests–I thought they were all mowed down in the Iron Age. I suppose they re-grow them where they seem to be dwindling. Being from Seattle, I am surrounded by a swathe of green, wet, oceanic moss-forests, so it seems odd to me. Well, they visited Seattle in 2007 on their “Light at the End of the World” tour, so let’s hope that they can trudge their way through the moss-forests for a 2011, or, more likely, 2012 tour. If one is lucky enough to live in Britain, one can buy Erasure Forest Tour tickets here.

Basically, love gay people, and be jealous of puny British forests for the tolerant people that inhabit them.

Over and out.