Wednesday, June 27, 2007
I first caught sight of the beautiful Ryohei Yamamoto in M-Flo's "Summer Time Love" clip (also further sonic proof that DJ Taku is a brilliant producer), then found the blisteringly brilliant combination of shimmering D+B loveliness and j-pop fluff that is "Miss You" (the spot is loveliness, but the live performance is SUBLIME (and further proof once again that I need to move to Japan). Last on the roster is a static frame with preview tracks from part 1 of his lovely new house covers project (Cavaca) – one track of which is produced by none other than my sonic god of the world Jazztronik. Of course whether or not we'll be able to find it on these sad-ass shores is another matter, but we shall see. Dig.
1. You Gotta Be (Track: Kentaro Takizawa / Original: Des'ree)
2. Sweet Soul Revue -ENGLISH Version- (Track: MAKAI / Original: PIZZICATO FIVE)
3. Calling You (Track: CLAZZIQUAI PROJECT / Original: Holly Cole)
4. Lately (Track: Jazztronik / Original: Stevie Wonder)
5. Human Nature (Track: LAVA / Original: Michael Jackson)
6. Georgy Porgy (Track: eighteen degrees. / Original: TOTO)
7. She Will Be Loved (Track: cargo / Original: Maroon 5)
8. I Like It (Track: AKAKAGE / Original: DeBarge)
Wednesday, June 20, 2007
There's no denying that this season's roster on Top Chef are incredibly dull and there's no aesthetic loveliness to be found among any of them. There's no godly Sam T., or even a Harold. The only possibility was the slightly cute in a white trash way (yes, there can be such a thing as hot white trash but it's a rarity you won't find 99.9% of the time) Clay, who was the first to go. (This season of the Next Food Network Star has the same problem, but it's still more watchable – and I'll never get over my love for last season's magnificent Andrew Schumacher.)
But tonight I got an ineffably lovely respite for a brief second when, as the chefs were catering a gourmet BBQ, I caught sight of one of the most exquisitely beautiful Latin porn boys ever – the epically sublime Fernando Montana. (My reaction obviously was to scream "Holy f*ck" at the top of my lungs.) Fernando only did a few rare films for Falcon and one for Hothouse over the span of a few years, but the second I first caught sight of him I fell in mad love (yes, again). And there are only three other men in the history of porn that I've wanted to see get f*cked as much on film (and whom never have) – Manuel Torres, Vin Nolan (who did get gangf*cked in a scene in the documentary Sex/Life in L.A., but as it's not a real porn film you don't get to see anything good), and Aiden Shaw. Evidently Fernando must live in Miami, along with fellow Latin porn god Alec Martinez, who thankfully has gotten f*cked (and even nightsticked once) in many films.
To see him on Top Chef is something lovely and brilliant (though clearly the producers can't get any credit for it) that I never ever ever would've expected. And it's a beautiful thing.
And I have to add that these photos don't begin to articulate how lovely he really is, but they're the best I could find. Seek him out on film to see him in all his real sublimity.
I was feeling only slightly pervy for falling in mad love with Brandon Buddy and Jason Tom, two godly beautiful boys who play teenagers Cole and Markko (respectively) on my favorite not the least bit f*cking guilty pleasure One Life to Live, a show that I first started watching many years ago for the also perennially exquisite Kamar de Los Reyes (who I'd loved previously on the short-lived but brilliant CBS series Four Corners – with the also godly sublime Justin Chambers, who I had the pleasure of spotting at Sunset + Sanborn recently, but I digress...), and later also for Kamar's onscreen brother David Fumero.
The only redeeming thing about OLTL's ill-conceived musical endeavor of this week was the adorable and mad f*cking lovely spectacle of Brandon and Jason trying to sing. I do love Jason as well (and am saddened by the fact that we didn't get to see him run naked through the halls of his high school, as Markko threatened to do on a dare), but it's Brandon who I'm most in love with. I have no problem perving on teenage boys (usually Latin boys, one reason I loved Wassup Rockers (though I'd previously hated all of Larry Clark's other films)), but as it happens Brandon is actually 23 and Jason graduated from high school in 2001, in his native Hawaii (also explaining his loveliness). Now the only reason for feeling like a card-carrying perv (which I am and mad proud of it, incidentally, a fact of which all who know me are fully aware) is all the things I'm imagining Brandon and Jason doing together, but I'll leave that to your imagination.
As one who's been chased by disgusting old men all my life, I would feel guilty for that reason alone, but I decided long ago that as long as I still look 20 I don't give a f*ck.
One last thing about Brandon, he's now officially on my roster of the four most beautiful white boys on television, second only to Dave Annable, and alongside CSI: Miami's Jonathan Togo, and my other perennial love Milo Ventimiglia.
And, yes, I do know that this post makes me sound like the biggest faggot in history, but, once again, I don't give a f*ck...
One last disclaimer, obviously I know full well that the clip below is the most horrendously misguided spot I'll ever include on this blog and I KNOW how awful it is but if you don't think these two boys are beautiful there's something wrong with you. Enjoy. xo, B.
Thursday, June 14, 2007
For anyone who doesn't know me, the sole reason I sought to become a graphic designer is because of Ian "Swifty" Swift. From the seminal early Talkin' Loud covers through what continues to be my bible – the mighty Straight No Chaser – Swifty has been my god for all things aesthetic design-wise. True, before I discovered Swifty I worshipped Reid Miles, Neville Brody, 23 Envelope, Chris Biggs' Sweatbox covers, Jon Wozencroft's work for the Touch label and so on, but it was Ian's ineffable visual articulation of all things jazz and the Gilles P. aesthetic that sealed my fate.
So it was with much much sadness that I had to miss the London Illustration Gallery's recent Art of Straight No Chaser exhibition, and the previous show strictly devoted to Swfity and his boy Mitchy. Most definitely a F*CK I WISH I WERE RICH ENOUGH TO JUMP ON A F*CKING PLANE TO LONDON moment (the last one being the last Jazztronik Jazz Café gig)...
All that said, I have years to go before I can even begin to aspire to reaching Swifty's aesthetic benchmark, and at some point I'll have to get more real training, but it's his inspiration and his continued work for SNC, Especial, Far Out, and so on that keeps me going. xo, B.