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

I can’t say I’m a card carrying feminist but I’ve read more feminist texts than most.
I’ve been known to quote Emma Goldman, and while not solely a feminist Emma was one bad ass mama jamma who might still be found on the reading lists of Gloria Steinem’s pals today.
I’ve read Simone de Beauvoir’s Second Sex, Andrea Dworkin’s pissed off rantings, Merlin Stone’s get back to the Goddess goodies, and of course the ever voluminous Backlash and other works of Susan Faludi.
Having named only a few, I think I have a pretty good understanding of feminism, but I’m still reluctant to wear any name tags, especially the one people want to call me the most, and that is GIRL.

Listening to a podcast of Slate’s DoubleX Gabfest  I was made aware of a new group of television shows starring women in their twenties this season, no eyebrows up there.
And seeing is I don’t suck on the glass teat (see Harlan Ellison) all that much, how would I know anyway?
Of the many things they so wonderfully pointed out one was the irony of a 34 year old Zooey Deschanel starring in a show called ‘The New Girl“.
Gone are the days of Mary Tyler Moore and Murphy Brown they noted wryly.
And me ever the optimist when I found out that they were remaking Charlie’s Angels  I was hoping it was with the original cast (RIP Farrah). I mean the Golden Girls is a fucking cult darling and Anglea Lansbury got no small ratings with Murder She Wrote, so why not?

I’ll tell you why not…
Because as sexy as Helen Mirren and her bath tub nipples are it’s supposedly still bad juju for a woman to get old. I guess ratings and rabid fans have no say.
And while men mature and grey with smoldering temples, we presumably wilt like little pansies in the rear window of a black hearse on the way to the no one wants to fuck you anymore graveyard.

While on the surface this issue may revolve around beauty, it’s really about power.
Girls are never the boss,  and girls are much easier to ignore when asking for the remote control, or equal pay among other things.
I don’t want you to pat me on the head while you pat me on the ass, as Susan Sarandon admonishes in Bull Durham “Baby ducks are cute, I HATE cute…!”

So in the name of ass kicking and fully gown women let us consider Bonnie Raitt, Lucinda Williams, Lauren Bacall, Isabella Rossellini, Audrey Hepburn, Katharine Hepburn, Julianne Moore, Julie Andrews and Mary Louise Parker, to name a few. …. If you’re smart you wouldn’t call any one of them, or me, a girl.

I’ve been told I have great legs, a nice ass and beautiful hair.
I have been relatively blessed as far as my looks are concerned, thank you baby cheesus. But let me ask you a question by way of this story…

Recently I got asked by a fellow musician to do a video interview.
Cool I think, I can use all the promo I can get.
But wait, hold on there Ms. Giant Ego, he wants me to interview his band. Hu?

I ask him “Why me”? He says, after some uncomfortable pauses, it’s “..because you’re a, a ham, ya know like onstage”. A ham, me… really?
Now for those of you who don’t know I often refer to myself as a reluctant performer, because how else can a poet really get their stuff read I ask you?
Seriously, the bliss of songwriting far out weighs the spotlight for this kid.
But after about a year of crying post gig this Monster has created a Doctor Frankenstein. Which is my way of saying I quite dig it now. But I digress….

So I go to do the interview, and I have to be honest I am a little resistant and rather bitchy when I arrive. But a few minutes in darned if I don’t start feeling sorry for my fellow artists once the camera is on.
To keep with my Frankenstein  metaphor, they seem about as uncomfortable as a creature poked with torches and pitchforks.
And after a few questions, a few cheesy shots of me holding their new CD like a toothpaste model (which they agreed not to use…yes that’s how vain I am) I again ask …”Uh why me”?

With a chagrined look I hear “Well, I didn’t want to say, but it’s because of your looks.” to which I responded “I know THAT!” But that’s it? I was the costume?
A human form of prestidigitation? A little sexual misdirection? Old as the hills and all the advertising companies who place billboards on them?
(See Bill Hicks for thoughts on the profession of advertising.)

So I’ve taken the long way to talk about Theatre, Costume, Drama, and Spectacle.

From the master of visual reinvention, David Bowie (I heart) to the curious stylings of Lady Gaga I wonder how much of that does an audience want from a musician?
Or better yet how much of that do you need to be successful today?

Last year we did a Halloween gig where I dressed up as The Diva of the Dead where my band allowed me to paint them up like ghouls. After the show we were overwhelmed with responses that I can only attribute to the costumes because well, we did look great!

But should an artist cultivate a style, a theme, or a character? Again, is it a requirement in order to stand out in the throngs of torn jeans and band t-shirts?
I suspect genre is a factor here ’cause I don’t see too many Americana, or Jazz groups sporting tutu’s and face paint.
But then again, consider the amazingly talented and lovely Lynda Kay, whose hair is the height of show grabbing glitz!

And while I’m comfortable with my Elizabeth Montgomery Bewitched cartoon look, I wonder am I destined to return to the Diva of The Dead?

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!