Live It Up

I wish I had had someone around to tell exactly how It Gets Better back in high school when I was being terrorized by my muscular cowboy neighbor in high school -- who once followed me home from school and looked me dead in the eye beneath my New Wave fringe and said, "I don't know if I should kick your ass or fuck it." (Or was that as good as it gets?) But it might have helped to know that I'd have a Very Blondie 24 Hours one day, like I did just now, having walked in from meeting Debbie and the boys at CD signing in the West Village a few minutes ago (it was my third "official" Deb meeting, which doesn't count brief exchanges on the sidewalk and movies over the years) and seeing the band perform last night at Highline Ballroom. (Listening to records was my principal source of solace on some of those darker days, so it's extra special interacting with the bands all these years later.)

The event at Marc Jacobs' store -- the fashion designer is an old friend of Deb's and set up a Blondie pop-up store to celebrate the official release of "Panic of Girls" today -- was a bit frenzied, with a dozen photographers and a room full of fans in a corner shoppe so tiny it requires the extra "pe" on the end to adequately describe it.

I probably could have asked for a "pic with," but no one else was -- there was really nowhere to do it anyway and it kind of felt good enough just knowing I live a few blocks away from where this is going on -- so I settled for all six current Blondies signing my fan pack disc while I discussed last night's "Eat to the Beat" 1-2-3 opener with Deb, who said she "liked my tie." (It was my stylist's Alexander McQueen, naturally.) Clem seems to only bother speaking to female fans -- fair enough -- but Deb was cute when I told her that the shirt she was wearing was designed by my friend Scooter LaForge. "I just got it today," she said, smiling as she rubbed the material on the sleeves. (It's quite cool with Marilyn Monroe painted on the back -- I'm hoping the dozen paparazzi who were up everyone's asses took better photos of it for Scootie.) After thanking me for coming to the show and the signing, I was out the door when my best friend (and fellow Blondie nut) from Arizona, Greg, happened to call. "You'll never guess where I just came from ..." I began.

As for last night's show, Michael, Boy Culture Matt and I went together and had a great time. Deb's voice -- as well as her waist -- was a bit thinner than usual (she may have been a tad under the weather or just a little tired from so much touring), but after playing it perhaps a tad too cool during the first third of the show, she really warmed up and got back in the New York groove.

Not that I, or anyone else there, didn't love it from the opening -- the crowd was younger than the last time I saw 'em and was really revved up.) when the "Union City Blue," "Dreaming," "Atomic" trifecta had me eating to the beat some more. (We arrived early to secure one of the few and heavily monitored tables and were quasi-forced to eat dinner -- my $29 salmon still digesting to the pounding of the songs featuring Clem's best drumming ever.) From there, they focused on the new LP -- the fun "D-Day," "Girlie Girlie" (my fave), "What I Heard" (Matt's fave), "China Shoes" (Gaga's fave), "Wipe Off My Sweat" (my least fave), "Horizontal Twist" (punky bonus track) and "Mother," which has an instant Blondie classic feel to it. "Call Me" and "Maria" were mixed in so the crowd didn't completely panic.

From there, they went a little off script, with a "Rapture"/"You Gotta Fight for Your Right to Party" mashup, then a raucous "One Way or Another" sing-along.

For the encore, they did a cover of Johnny Thunders' "You Can't Put Your Arms Around a Memory" (from the late great's debut solo LP, "So Alone"), followed by the Ramones' "I Don't Wanna Go Down to the Basement." When it became clear that they were only going to play one more song, I was panicked given that they had not done two of their No. 1 hits -- "The Tide Is High" or "Heart of Glass." They'd probably be stabbed in the alley for being heartless, so I left a little broken that they didn't do "The Tide Is High" for the first time. (I think "Girlie Girlie" is their new "reggae" song.) Then Matt tried to console me and said it was finally time to retire one of them, not unlike the bad memories of being followed home by the shitkicker bully, whose life I imagine didn't get much better at all.