Androgyny can be done right in two ways, mix both sexes to create a unified force and image, or you can dress yourself up as a homeless transvestite. That’s pretty much the extent of it. From videos I have seen of her on ‘youtube’ she looks like she could have been a very well crafted clone of Carry Anne Moss. I bet she gets that all the time, I bet she hates it too. So yeah, she has an androgynous face, but tonight it’s not the face of the actress I saw in those videos, it’s more akin to an elfin extra from Lord of the Rings. And I still love it, I really do, but she’s wearing some Edwina Monsoon number that’s exposing her lacrosse player legs for all to see. As she moves through the crowd crooning, “Doo doo doo doo doo, you’re gonna miss me…” I’m half expecting her to body check someone.
And the music, look, the music is good. It’s dreamy, eerie, glitchy with bleeps and blops, Snap, crackly, poppy, but the lyrics, my god those awful lyrics…
“How do you feel / What is a bit? / Can you feel? / My actual tit? / Without me being there…
Um…What tits? A woman dressed like serial killer Aileen Wuornos (Think Charlize Theron in Monster) let’s loose a loud “WOOOOO!!!” And Valeries does her best impression of a sexy dance before moving on to an eager boy.
And her voice, it’s not that it’s a bad voice. It isn’t, it has it’s moments, but I can’t help but think she’d be better off doing something like painting, acting, or I don’t know…Bird calls?
By the fifth song I couldn’t wait to leave but Valerie wasn’t finished yet. Her howling over beats, it all sounded the same. It was too serious. She may have done five songs, she may have done seven, I really couldn’t tell, but one thing was for sure, no one was screaming ‘encore!’
Am I wrong? Do I just not get it? Is that what it is? Am I like the immortal character Banky Edwards from the Kevin Smith classic Chasing Amy? It’s possible. I go back to Beki and ask her what she thought.
“It started out intriguing, but this wasn’t anything special.”
“I wish it was you performing, I bet you put on one hell of a show.”
“We’re actually looking for a drummer, know anyone?”
“I’ll put the word out.”
Valerie disappeared quickly after her performance. As I pushed my way out of the tight, hot box that the wine cellar had become, I couldn’t help but wish that the performance had gone something like THIS. But that only proves how little I actually know of the masculine lesbian. Truth be told, they frighten me terribly for two reasons, the first being, say the wrong thing and they will try to fight you. Not only that, but they will hit you, and as we all know, you can’t hit a girl, so you really just got to let her get it out of her system. Unless of course you’re Sean Connery. The second reason being, that every time I’ve met one, the first and only feeling I get from them is “I have absolutely no need of you.” Which I for one just find so defeating.
What I need is good lesbian friend. My own personal lesbian liaison. Is there any hot, sexy, lipstick lesbian out there that will be friends with ‘ole Fixxy and take him into her world, plug me into her vagina monologue perhaps?
Maybe then I could understand the awfulness of Valerie’s music, maybe then I could understand Birkenstocks, and maybe then, just maybe, she could find some small use for me after all, as we drink each other under the table that our shared stripper dances upon, doing our best to not kill each other for the prize above our heads.
You’re kidding? Fixx is adored by lesbians the world over!
you are very sad, and not a good writer either, ugh