When you think of Anaheim CA you probably think of Tinker Bell on the Matterhorn, but I think of Guitars and Porn.
The annual NAMM show was just a week or so ago and I made the scene thanks to passes from the wonderful folks at Line6.

It’s no mystery that there are more male musicians than women.
Even more who actually play an instrument, and even more still who play that instrument at a virtuosic level in Rock n Roll. So I was not surprised by the sex ratio in attendance.
What did catch my attention were the other women there and how they allowed themselves to be regarded by their potential peers, fans, customers, partners and mates.

At the Daisy Rock booth I saw some cute tweens pink and sparkly in holy jeans and black nail polish amid colorful and unashamedly girly guitars. I get it, female empowerment though glitter, works for me but this was the ONLY booth where I saw a female endorser signing autographs and taking pictures.

Next I saw some dutiful Birkenstock wearing, and forgive me for saying it, “Frumpy” gals who either don’t care, or don’t care anymore (which I support either way) trailing behind their eager partners pulling them off to yet another Ukelele booth. And man I think the Ukes were breeding down there on the third floor!
Then more various types, Chinese saleswomen cutting through the crowds of black T-Shirts and Glen Danzigs, and some probable musicians in the form of garden variety Renaissance Faire Stevie Nicks types and an occasional Riot Grrrl as well.

But then, I see what can only be described as well…. porn stars, like sexual neon frighteningly reminding me of blow up dolls in their obviously awkward relationship to the tools of (or at) this trade show.
Some look a bit more WWF, and some look decidedly more fetish but Porn Star looks none the less.
(I was informed that the female version of the now called WWE is called GLOW, silly me, the things you don’t learn when you abandon mainstream TV)
Some were wives or girlfriends, but most of these porn types were actually show models.
I’m guessing most were not actual adult entertainers because the porn look, in Los Angeles at least, is ubiquitous and they all can’t be professionals can they?

Assembled with usually white cotton candy hair, tattoos only a mother can love, spray tans as orange as clementines and hooker heels these living ornaments have gone with Rock n Roll for as long as Rock n Roll has been around, each era having it’s own flavor of course. But don’t be fooled, these women were not groupies.
They did not appear to offer the adulation of fan to an artist, or muse to creator, these women were window dressing, or undressing in this case ….

Some of these ladies may have been musicians, but in this context they were accessories.
The women who seemed to be musicians dressed more, well…manly.
This brings to stark relief the unconscious conditioning I suspect we all share that men are musicians and women are rewards or trophies.
I can not count how many men did not introduce themselves to me while shaking the hand of my counterpart, Christian Nesmith, although in their defense I was greeted with many a smile.
But your average Rock n Roller who says he got into music without ever giving thought to sex is probably lying. And there’s nothing wrong with that as far as I’m concerned, but once puberty passes some actually realize music is a sublime language bearing a deeper potential then purely as an aphrodisiac.

Now lest you think I think I’m above all this, I’m not. I wore what I call my sensible heels because they have closed toes and are only about four inches high and a tight skirt. I had hoped to be appealing yes, but classy. But next to the porn star types however I felt like a Kir Royal in a room of cheap Tequila shots.
I’m not condescending here, I really felt sad for my sisters and fellow musicians.
And I’m not asking if we should ban T&A at NAMM, or for a solution to this gender imbalance, or if any of this is right or wrong.
I am asking did those tweens, on the way to the Daisy Rock booth, passing all that human eye candy displayed next to instruments but not playing them still want to pick up a guitar?

My partner in crime and all things wonderful, Christian Nesmith,  has taught himself Final Cut and here is his biggest achievement so far…we hope you enjoy, share and comment like mad.

And as our little gift to you, a free download of my Christmas song

All I Want For Christmas Is Candy by Circe Link (right click to save)

All I want from you is to please leave a comment HERE and or share it with a friend!

And tune in for our next house concert LIVE around 7pm on Thursday December 29th by clicking on this link

WWW.LIVESTREAM.COM/CIRCELINK

We did a new song, made new friends, and have a few new videos to share with you thanks to our fan club President Mr. Michael Bond!
Next time I tell ya it’s gonna be good, you better listen!

Photos by Nanette Gonzales at The LA WEEKLY

It’s time to eat snails again….
At TAIX Country French Cuisine while we treat you to some old and new delights of our own. Enjoy our all acoustic line up featuring :
Christopher Allis, Brant Biles, Jason Chesney, Laura Drew, Debra Tala and welcoming home Christian Nesmith!

FRIDAY October 14th at 11:30pm
At TAIX 321 Lounge 1911 W. Sunset Boulevard Los Angeles, CA 90026 (213) 484-1265

If you have any favorite songs you’d like to see a video for let us know won’t you?
Or why not make us one? Here is a little info….

Enjoy!

Most of us think of selling out in regards to music but it applies in a myriad of ways, and the theme is as old as commerce and art itself.
For those of you who never took art history look up The Medici.

If you are an artist, or know one personally, you’ve seen this ugly existential wrestling match up close.
You’ve seen the dirty under skirts of the music, art and entertainment business and know her for the whore she is.
But is wanting to make a living with one’s art selling out?
Do you have to sell out in order to do it?
Perhaps the topic itself is dated, as my pessimistic side thinks that selling out is all those crazy kids are dying to do these days.

Is selling out allowing some mega corporation to buy your amazing song and pitch cat food with it?
Is it allowing them to do it in the name of mowing down the rain forest, say, instead of some innocuous service such as cat food?
What the fuck made The ClashRock the Casbah?
Ok too many questions, but you get the point.

Some of the most talented people are eating their hearts out over the careers of far less gifted kiddies who are “making it” all the while quickly approaching the big expiration date.
That’s 40 by the way, as if you didn’t know.
And some of them are willing to go to serious lengths to get that approval, that award, that applause, that rent check. There are some days when selling cat food with a song sounds just fine. The rain forest however…

Honestly, if I stop with all the clever writing (which none of the above actually is) my guess is we all know exactly what it means to be a sell out.
It means going against your better nature for the sake of a naked and undulating gold toothed greed.
It means doing what you know you shouldn’t and stuffing that little voice of conscience right down the hole in your gut where all your dreams had to retreat to when you decided life was too tough.
It means catching a glimpse of yourself in the mirror and having a hard time liking the guy looking back.

But would you if you could?
Could you take a little personal guilt in exchange for security and money?
Would you dumb it down for a dollar or two?
Would you still make art if no one was looking?
You’d sell your soul for a little rock and roll wouldn’t you?
Are you a sell out? Would you know if you were?

What is a sell out anyway?

What’s this all about? Christian and I are writing a musical on this very theme, check it out here
www.rockandrollsellout.com

We had a swell time at Taix on Friday! Thanks to everyone who came out.
We we’re lucky enough to be a LA WEEKLY PICK that night and here is what they said:

CIRCE LINK AT TAIX

Salvation comes in all forms, and on Circe Link’s latest album, California Kid, it arrives in the guise of the sassy, country-rocking opening track. “Save me from salvation,” the local singer declares defiantly, turning a typical cry for help into something more delightfully surprising, as her guitarist-partner Christian Nesmith (son of the Monkees’ Michael) buries her pleas in a wash of woozy slide guitar. Link may traffic in familiar pop, rock and country music settings — she comes off like a sweeter-voiced Bonnie Raitt — but she’s too slyly subversive to settle for the usual mainstream songwriting clichés. She could be describing her own music when she writes, “Mysterious and grand unknowable and fathomless/Yet common like the green of this fruited thicket.” The versatile singer is working simultaneously on two separate jazz and neo-folk projects, as well as a rock musical with Nesmith. Tonight, Link strums a low-key acoustic set. (Falling James)