Hey, readers and random, somewhat disappointed people who were searching for hope diamond related pornography! (Oh, I see you in the stats.)
I’ve been going maaaaaaaad lately since I’ve been preparing to shoot a music video for CHAMPION which has had me on a pretty exceptionally restrictive and un-fun diet and exercise regime. Basically I’ve gone from space cadet to astronaut. When do I get the zero-gravity boots and block of ice cream, dude?
The awesome thing about releasing an album is people start writing flattering things about you instead of just saying them to your face, which is fantastic, because you can re-post them or print them out and roll around in them, giggling, while you fantasise about 90% of your grade school classmates getting their comeuppance and covered in baby puke while you’re popping bottles of Cristal sent over by that mysterious dark-haired stranger with the YACHT.
THE ‘IS IT ABOUT LOVE OR SEX? I THINK IT MIGHT BE A SEX THING” TRACK “CHAMPION” ASKS “DO I MAKE YOU KNEES HURT IN YOUR FAVOURITE T-SHIRT?” YEAH, SHE PROBABLY DOES. THE ALBUM ENDS WITH THREE DARK, SULTRY TUNES YOU CAN TOTALLY ‘DO IT’ TO. THE ATMOSPHERIC “TASTY” SEEMS TO EXPLAIN AT LEAST SOME OF THE DUALITY IN DOLLS: ”SO USED TO CONFUSING THE TWO; I CAN UNDERSTAND WHY IT’S CONFUSING TO YOU/NOT LOVE BUT IT’S KIND OF AMUSING/I’M TIMING THE TAKEOVER, MAKEOVER MUSE.”
WHETHER SHE IS A MOODY TEENAGE RECLUSE MAKING BEDROOM BEATS OR A SOCIETY GIRL LASHBATTING THE GARDEN-PARTY COMPETITION INTO EAGER SUBMISSION IS YET TO BE SEEN, BUT WILL BE FUN TO WATCH. AND PROBABLY LEARN.
DIRTY, SEXY CHOONS ON REPLAY WHILST WE WORK…GREAT PUNISHMENT SOUNDTRACK FROM NIKKI AWESOME 😉
NIKKI: ‘GO ON THEN. ASK ME ANYTHING YOU WANT – ANONYMOUSLY.’
JOEY: ‘WHERE CAN I FIND NAKED PICS OF YOU?’
NIKKI: ‘IN YOUR MOM’S BEDSIDE TABLE. XX’
It’s funny when you vaguely remember something (like the lyrics to your songs or whatever) and then someone in the press picks it up and you’re like, “oh yeah, I did say/do that.”
It’s like hearing the asshole you now regret dating work your signature casual wit into a corporate conversation with his douchebag business associates while having to smile, look pretty and be all “baby you’re so smart,” except for it’s about a grillion times better, ’cause that other thing is stupid lame and being applauded for your millions of saturday-nights-in is actually sooooooo sugar-coated sweet. Ok, it’s possible that I may have just made that non-working analogy totally work while I gave you an actual reality life excerpt not-so-subtly burning a lurker.
But don’t look back in anger, I heard ya say….
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