Friday, June 26th 2009
You may have heard that Courtney Love is trying to drum up interest in her new album, which likely arose by means of the same kind of starfucking, pill-popping sensationalistic madness the rest of her work came from. Generally, the wives of rock gods have a tendency to get a bad rap from the gate – and history shows that there’s good reason for it. But every so often, one of them is able to walk the line, steer clear of her man’s legacy and carve out her own niche. Courtney Love, meet Brody Dalle – everything you wish you could be.
Let’s get this out of the way: for those under the rocks, Brody is the wife of Josh Homme, Indian chief on the phenomenal reservation known as Queens Of The Stone Age. We’ve said plenty about the man, and are bound to say more soon.
Brody’s risen from the rubble of her previous band, the punkilicious Distillers, and brought together a formidable batch of players for her new outfit, Spinnerette: the excellent Alain Johannes (Eleven, Queens Of The Stone Age), drummer Jack Irons (Pearl Jam, Red Hot Chili Peppers, Eleven) and guitarist Tony Bevilaqua – the only remaining member from the Distillers besides Brody.
Celebrating the release of their eponymous debut earlier this month, Spinnerette descended on the Troubadour in Los Angeles on Wednesday with an arsenal of new songs and an adoring audience at their feet. Beginning with Valium Knights and Bury My Heart, two tracks that didn’t make the cut for their debut (they can be found on the Ghetto Love EP), the energy level at the Troubadour angled sharply skyward and never turned back. All Babes Are Wolves followed, which along with Bury My Cock, Distorting A Colon and Driving Schlong was changed on the setlist to All Babes Are Whores.
There was an unusual air of brooding to Brody throughout the set. Was she pissed? Sick? It was hard to tell, but the music didn’t suffer one bit. Mysteries were solved after the second or third song, when Mrs. Homme confessed that she had a “fucked up case of laryngitis.”
Now, I’ve seen Courtney Love at her best and her strung-out sloppiest, at both times putting nothing of herself into songs that she’s raked in millions from. She played with the careless abandon of someone who didn’t even write the songs she was there to play… and perhaps there’s something to be said for that, maybe on a rainy day sometime.
That being said, Brody hardly let on for a second that she was sick as a dog. Sex Bomb was a house-shaking crowd favorite, and she stalked the stage in stiletto boots like the rock queen that she is, alternating between playing rhythm guitar and double-fisting the mic. As with the eight-and-a-half minute A Prescription For Mankind, it was made most clear that Spinnerette is representative of not only Brody’s evolution as an artist and ability to bring the best out of some of the finest in the game, but also of the notion that a woman (or man) isn’t resigned to a life of legacy-ruining hanger-on status just because she’s married to a rock icon.
June 24, 2009
West Hollywood, CA
Bury My Heart
All Babes Are Wolves
Baptized By Fire
A Spectral Suspension
Distorting A Code
A Prescription For Mankind