Shady Love (Clean) by Scissor Sisters Official

Ladies and ladyboys: It’s time to get a little shady!

Just minutes ago, disco-pop dance outfit Scissor Sisters premiered their brand new track on BBC’s Radio 1: “Shady Love” featuring Krystal Pepsy–otherwise known as the DJ duo between Sisters frontman Jake Shears & Jeremy Lingvall–and Azealia Banks, a rising 20-year-old NYC rapper (and one of the BBC Sound of 2012‘s more exciting shortlist picks.)

In true SS fashion, the boys (and girl!) have gone and tweaked their sound ever-so-slightly again. Most notably? There’s rapping! That’s right–Jake Shears is spittin’ it quick in the verses (who thought he’d ever be a spitter?), sounding like a cross between Cazwell and Justin Timberlake: “She gon’ vote for Obama and she likes to dance to Madonna/Chops it like Benihana, so mm mmm, mm mmm!” Shears freestyles alongside Banks.

The Boyz Noise-produced song also sees the group moving away from the ’70′s-encrusted Studio 54 stomp of their 2010 studio masterpiece Night Work and moving into the 21st century with thick, gritty House synthesizers and frantic electronica. Fear not: The glittering melodies are still pure disco realness, but the sound is something much more eclectically electric. Oh, and that mini sitar breakdown about 3 minutes in? Just wicked!

Just as quickly, the group also premiered the official video for the track on NME this morning, which is more or less the kind of fierce performance piece I used to dream about staging as a wee gay boy in middle school–flashing lights, confetti and all. Get it!

What a way to kick off 2012! I’m loving the new sound so far. Now bring on the fourth Sisters effort!

“Shady Love” premiered on Radio 1 on January 2. (iTunes)

Here we go again: The end of another year in music!

2010 may well be remembered as the Year of the Future (if not the Year of All Hearts–hint hint!): A year of fembots, androids, bionic women and time-traveling adventures deep into the 22nd century.

Space-age love stories and robo-dramatics colored a large portion of the year’s biggest releases in pop, no doubt a response to the reign of the machine on the pop charts as synth-pop productions continued to dominate the digital airwaves in 2010.

Below is the list of MuuMuse’s Top Albums of 2010, which was based on a variety of factors–from individual song and single goodness, to the complete album experience, to overall artistic integrity, to an album’s ability to ‘stick’ as the year progressed. Basically I’m trying to say that it’s a bit of a hot mess, but I tried my very best.

There’s also a rather controversial dishonorable mention prior to the Top 40 list that will likely blow my chances for that much coveted position as editor of Rolling Stone. DAMN IT.

Now…LET’S DO THIS.

Without further ado…the list!

On Friday night, Kylie Minogue performed “Get Outta My Way” on The Paul O’Grady Show.

Much as with any of her other performances during the Aphrodite era, Kylie has reduced me to little more than a puddle of hearts and glitter while watching. Literally. I’m incapable of withholding a grin when I’m watching her perform…it’s cute overload!

As with the latest string of “Get Outta My Way” performances, Mizz Minogue kept it classy with her chair routine and a boatload of vogue-rrific hand moves and poses. It seems she’s switched up some of the moves ever so slightly again, which is nice because each performance of the song thus far has had its own special little moments.

You’ll also need to watch this brief clip of Kylie being interviewed by O’Grady–and being introduced to an aged version of herself, played by none other than her twinkle-toed bestie, Scissor Sisters frontman Jake Shears. It’s a must see!

Please, remember everyone–”Get Outta My Way” is being released TOMORROW in the UK. Let’s do one of the greatest singles of 2010 proper justice and give it its rightful #1 debut, okay?

Click here to order the single in various formats on Kylie’s website. (The 3-piece bundle is headed to my doorstep as we e-speak!)

Wait, isn’t that Adam Lambert and Amanda Lepore?

Fair warning: My experience at the Scissor Sisters concert involved a great deal of celebrity ogling, thanks to a very kind VIP pass courtesy of the band. Shameless name-dropping and self-absorbed ramblings begin…NOW.

As we made our way into Terminal 5 on Wednesday night, my friends and I quickly hustled through the crowd and took our spot to the right of the stage, dancing like fools to the very good remixes being played by DJ Sammy Jo (There was Kylie playing!) and getting pumped up Jersey Shore style.

Though my good friend (and loyal Muuser) Parker and I had received VIP passes for access to the balcony above, we ultimately decided that it would be more fun to simply dance with our other friends at the show within the general admission crowd. Well, at the time anyway.

“Wait, isn’t that Adam Lambert and Amanda Lepore?” someone in our group asked, pointing up toward the aforementioned balcony. With a quick glance, it was confirmed: That was indeed Adam Lambert, guy-liner and all. And as for Lepore? Well, she has a way of sticking out like a sore, swollen thumb.

“Yeah okay, maybe we should go up there,” I decided.

And so, Parker and I shoved our way out of the pack, rushing to every corner of the venue desperately trying to find our way up the stairs. We eventually did (it’s in the back by the bar!), climbed our way up and, with a flash of the VIP bracelet (~glamourous~), we were up there too.

Instantly, the mood changed. It was more calm surely, but there was a strange buzz in the air. Like everyone just knew there were a gaggle of celebrities and socialites standing about. The faces started to look familiar: Club kids and scenesters swarmed about, including boys wearing glittery shoes and coat jackets with pom-poms glued to the collars. There was also a long-haired man wearing white who I’m vaguely confident was Jesus Christ himself.

Nonetheless, we elbowed our way closer until we finally reached Mr. Glambert. For a pop star, he was looking fairly understated, wearing a simple gray tee and black gloves. When we reached him, he was just sort of standing there waiting around behind his more extravagant looking entourage.

Okay, so look: I didn’t want to be perceived as an obnoxious fan boy standing around waiting for a photo at a concert. Believe me: I was there for the Scissor Sisters first and foremost. But how in the fuck was I going to prove that I was standing in the VIP balcony with Adam Lambert? I needed a photo.

Taking a deep breath, I tapped him on the shoulder (it felt like glitter, for the record), and said “I’m sorry. Can I have a picture?” He shrugged and said sure, turned around, and allowed Parker to snap the above shot. As you can see, there was a sad case of the blurs upon review, but I just couldn’t work up the courage to tap him again. Besides, he was already giggling along with his friends anyway. NONETHELESS MISSION ACCOMPLISHED.

Slowly but surely, the balcony grew more jam-packed. More glitterati filled the narrow aisle, and we started getting pushed back into the wall. “Maybe we should go back down,” I started to say.

“Look at that table,” said Parker, pointing in front of us. I read the place-holder resting on top: ‘Reserved for Katy Perry.’ And, at the table directly to the left: ‘Reserved for Drew Barrymore.’

“Yeah okay, so maybe we should stay,” I decided.

About five minutes later, a small troupe wormed their way through the velvet rope. It was Miss Purry herself, looking gorgeous in a leopard mini-dress. I immediately noticed her hair, which looked extra fabulous. I guess it’s either new or I just didn’t notice when I saw her perform on Live On Letterman, but she now has luscious strands of blue and red scattered within (I guess she’s really loving up that candy-coated theme lately).

So there I was, sandwiched behind Katy Perry, Adam Lambert, Susan Sarandon, Amanda Lepore, and Drew Barrymore, leaving me no choice but to do what has always come naturally: I stood there awkwardly. I mean, what else does one even do in these situations? I had no idea.

As the lights dimmed, the crowd downstairs began to roar and the Scissors took to the stage. Even in the VIP section, the buzzing bodies took to their respective places and began looking on eagerly. Sadly, we quickly discovered that if we weren’t standing directly against the banister among the celebrities (which we were not), we weren’t going to see much happening on stage–especially standing at 5′ 4″. And so, we decided to rush back into the crowd downstairs.

For a good story’s sake however, I am heretofore claiming that it was solely because I couldn’t see past Katy Perry’s head. It’s basically the truth!

As we rushed back down the stairs, the grinding sounds of “Night Work” kicked into the speakers. Parker and I quickly squeezed back into the main audience during the second verse of the song. Although we couldn’t get as deep into the crowd as where we stood prior to what I shall refer to as ‘the balcony situation,’ we still had a pretty good view of the stage (and Del Marquis’ crotch–I DIGRESS).

Throughout the night, the Sisters would bang out a bulk of their incredible album released in July, Night Work including “Fire With Fire,” “Any Which Way,” “Something Like This” and “Skin This Cat,” as well as favorites from their past records, including “I Don’t Feel Like Dancin’,” (which got the entire venue moving) “Tits On The Radio” (which got the entire venue vamping), and “Take Your Mama” (which had the entire venue crooning at the top of their lungs).

Every member of the troupe supplied their own flare of personality to the stage: From Babydaddy‘s cool swagger, to Jake Shears‘ unstoppable sexy, to Ana Matronic‘s endless attitude and vamp, to Del Marquis‘ stoic, cocky strumming. Admittedly, I did end up swooning a bit hard for Mr. Marquis and his tight black leather pants as the show went on. Again, I digress.

There were also a few delicious introductions before songs, as with “Skin Tight.” While taking a quick breather before launching into performance, Shears explained that the song was dedicated to his boyfriend who–after eleven or twelve weeks of touring–finally fucked him the night before. A sweeping “Aww…” came across the crowd, along with whistles, cheers and cat calls. A precious moment, no doubt.

“Skin This Cat” was a personal favorite, as Mizz Matronic came strutting out with the band’s sexified, lace-and-leather back-up singers and purred the song’s gloriously sexy lyrics along with some rather frisky choreography. Meeeow. (Hint: IT’S ABOUT HER VAG.) Loved it!

For the group’s final number (at least, before the encore), Ana came center stage and told us about the inspiration for the track (“Night Life”), which came from her first club experience as a 15-year-old in Portland, Oregon. She never wanted that feeling to end, she cooed to the audience, so she vowed never to stop living like that to this very day. Now that’s the spirit of a proper disco diva, my friends.

After a quick dash off-stage for a quick change after the song, the troupe soon returned for an encore, beginning with “Comfortably Numb,” with Jake now wearing an American flag-inspired jacket (it didnt last long–the man just doesn’t take well to clothing) and Ana in a gorgeous, geometric green dress.

Then came “Invisible Light,” the song I had been patiently waiting for the entire night. I can now officially confirm that the six minute opus is, in fact, as utterly EPIC live as it is on a record. By the time that swelling, cascading break in the song came in around the five minute mark, the entire room erupted into a manic, frenzied hands-in-the-air euphoria. The moment was absolutely perfect, and no doubt the night’s shining highlight for me.

After a quick announcement of their after-party location, the band took on their final song of the night: “Filty/Gorgeous.” By the time the song was wrapping up, pure pandemonium began to ensue on stage: Jake Shears took a quick dive into the crowd, at this point wearing an ass-less latex one piece (I can only imagine the unholiness he’s experienced while being passed around in that outfit). Miss Matronic doused him in water and ripped off the top of her dress to reveal a black bra underneath. Mic stands went flying, and confetti and fake cash baring the Night Work album cover and the motto “Make Some Cash – Fuck The Rich” burst high into the air, showering the crowd. It was utter insanity in the most fierce, most glamorous rock ‘n’ roll sort of way.

“We are the Scissor Sisters, and so are YOU!” Ana shouted out as the audience roared for the final time.

The Sisters delivered an immense, electrifying performance for their adoring fans in New York City. It was an endlessly fun experience–not to mention an impressive display of the band’s talent and professionalism.

Honestly, I wasn’t even that close to the stage for the show, and I still had such a blast. The band is just so much fun! An amazing experience, without a doubt.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to take a call: My new BFFs Kitty Purry and Glambert are tots blowing up my phone right now.

Many thanks to Parker F. for the photos (and upcoming videos).

On June 28, following a four year hiatus, the Scissor Sisters unveiled their third studio effort, Night Work.

Darker and more cohesive than either of the Scissors’ past two efforts, Night Work is a masterfully executed, sleekly polished glimpse into the excess and depravity of 1970′s disco nightlife–all without ever hazarding the treacherous territory of homage.

Produced by Stuart Price, Night Work also doubles as the perfect disco-laden compliment to the summer’s best album: Kylie Minogue‘s Aphrodite (which just happens to be produced by Mr. Price as well–I bet someone’s having a good summer!)

The album largely revels in a barrage of dirty bass lines and guitar riffs from Babydaddy and Del Marquis, glitchy synthesizers and front-man Jake Shears‘ pitch-perfect falsetto, which provides the vocal backing behind the album’s massive glam-rock anthems (“Fire With Fire”) and dark disco haunts (“Night Work”).

Though the album dives into darker territory, there’s plenty of the Scissor Sisters’ signature camp style buried within the record.

Take for instance “Any Which Way,” a glee-filled romp that finds Ana Matronic playing the sex-starved temptress mid-way through and cooing about finding a man that smells like “cocoa butter and cash.” “Take me anyway you like it / In front of the fireplace, in front of your yacht, in front of my parents / I don’t give a damn, baby–just take me!” she shrieks. It’s silly, it’s naughty, and above all, it’s irresistible.

Don’t believe me? Just try to watch their Glastonbury performance of the track (with a special cameo by a certain pop princess). I defy you not to crack a smile.

Songs like the slinky “Skin This Cat” operate as further evidence that the Sisters have evolved their sound. The melodies here are vastly sexier than previous efforts, even if the lyrics provide enough of a knowing wink wink, nudge nudge to keep you giggling: “You’re not the first tom to walk my floor / So get around the block a few times more / And keep scratch scratchin’ at my back door / And I will show you.”

Further on, several cuts show off Shears’ darker side, including the stomping “Harder You Get” and “Sex & Violence,” which burns with an icy intensity and deranged flares of old school synthesizers: “Oh, I need a witness, to see the mess I’ve made,” Shears devilishly purrs. “Where do you live? What do you give? Who are you with? And how you getting home?” Glam, sex, and murderous intent…a personal favorite, for sure.

But perhaps no track best embodies the album’s true essence than with its final moment: “Invisible Light,” an immense, wildly celebratory six-minute opus of dark disco euphoria.

By the time Ian McKellan delivers his spot-on spoken word about “sexual gladiators” and “fiercely old party children,” the track is already bursting at the seams, at last unleashing wave upon wave of sublime coos and pulsating, tribal beats that come together in one gorgeous moment of frantic bliss.

If there’s any word to describe the Sisters’ latest output, it’s evocative: Of Grace Jones, of bell bottoms and gold chains, of the sweat and grime and filth of a dirty New York City disco.

And that’s what I call a proper night out.

To celebrate the album’s release, MuuMuse is proud to be giving away SIX COPIES of Night Work. send me an e-mail with the subject line “NIGHTWORK” or tweet me with the following phrase: “I found a whole new way to love @MuuMuse! #NightWork”

Six winners will be randomly selected and notified on Tuesday, July 27. Good luck!

To preview and purchase Night Work, click here.

In case you didn’t know, Kylie Minogue is a legend.

Despite the pop singer’s unjustly limited visibility in the North American market, Kylie Minogue is a beloved musical icon in most other territories around the world. Her sheer popularity and nearly revered status is to such a degree that the only real way to describe it would be–at the risk of a barrage of anonymous heckling–to that of her contemporary, Madonna.

It is a wonder to think, then, that after over 23 years in the music industry, 11 studio albums, and over 68 million albums sold, following some of the most incredible international career highs and record-breaking accomplishments of a female musician in modern pop history, Kylie Minogue has only just now crafted one of her best records to date.

When it was announced that Kylie would begin working with legendary pop producer Stuart Price in the middle of 2009, the collaboration was almost universally celebrated amongst fans. Then again, it wasn’t altogether that surprising of a collaboration either.

Price is, of course, responsible for some truly killer modern disco records, including The Killers‘ Day & Age, Frankmusik‘s 3 Words, and the Scissor Sisters‘ upcoming Night Work, and of course, Madonna’s legendary Confessions On A Dance Floor. Realistically, it was only a matter of time before the two would unite.

As a result, Aphrodite is exactly the kind of record that one would expect when crossing Kylie Minogue with Stuart Price. That is–one of the most sleek, cohesive releases of her entire catalog. To put it simply: Yes, it does live up to the hype.

The album launches with its first single, “All The Lovers.” Currently a Top 10 single in the UK, the song is a solid representation of the bulk of Aphrodite, though far from the finest cut on the record. In fact, the soaring chorus and glittering electronica offer only a taste of what’s to come.

With much of the record, the producers on the job have taken Kylie’s disco diva connotation and added a more complex, edgier layer of dance production. Cuts like the Calvin Harris-produced, Jake Shears-penned “Too Much” are evidence of this next level sound, sounding something like a thousand glitter-filled balloons bursting all at once inside of an intergalactic vortex.

“Get Outta My Way,” the projected second single off of the album, is bound to be another success on the charts. It also happens to be a somewhat rare turn of defiance for Kylie, a singer best characterized by swooning love ditties and breathy enticements. This song, as Kylie announced to the crowd at Splash before performing the Aphrodite mega-mix, is about respect.

The singer’s confidence is only pushed further with the album’s Nerina Pallot-penned title track. Showcasing Kylie at her bossiest in some time, “Aphrodite” explodes with a militant, foot-stomping beat and a searing bolt of fiery energy: “I’m fierce and I’m feeling mighty / Don’t you mess with me, you don’t want to fight me!” she warns throughout the song’s storming chorus. Judging by the fact that both this song and “Get Out Of My Way” double as the album’s strongest selections, it’s safe to say Kylie wears her sass well.

In “Closer” and “Illusion,” two personal favorite cuts, Minogue and Price divine dark disco magic: The former, a slow-building haunter that shares connections to both her older work (“Confide in Me”) and a glimmer of Madonna’s Confessions; the latter a complex mesh of ’90′s house and Ace of Base-like synthesized bliss. Throw in a relentless throbbing bass and a few sex sessions worth of heavy breathing, and you’ve got nothing short of musical bliss.

Later on, both “Looking For An Angel” and “Everything is Beautiful” function as nothing short of definitions of the word “lush.” Warm, layered slices of piano-encrusted electronica stack one on top of the other as the singer’s lulling voice climbs over the melody : “If I lie with you long enough, I can see the things I’m dreaming of,” she coos during the song’s chorus, “Let’s go through the ritual, until everything is beautiful.”

Then there’s “Cupid Boy,” an unstoppable tour de force of jagged electro, moody guitar strums, and impossible girlish delight. The song features a surging, sonic-powered bridge of distorted vocals and an utter jaw-dropper of a chorus, colored by hard synth rhythms, an angelic chorus, and swelling, echoed swirls. “If only you knew, I shimmer for you,” Kylie coquettishly offers as the song begins, forever producing the same glee-filled moment of euphoria with each listen thereafter. Yes friends–this is what would be referred to as a “Kylie moment.”

But the opening moment of “Cupid Boy” is far from the only “Kylie moment” of the album–the euphoria felt during the middle eight of “All The Lovers,” the glitchy dance breakdown at the end of “Can’t Beat The Feeling,” the hands-in-the-air glee that is the chorus of “Put Your Hands Up (For Love)”–all of these fleeting moments of divinity only add more glow the hot pink, heart-shaped aura that surrounds all things Kylie.

At a time when a new musical endeavor made by a woman in pop over forty may end up looking like a desperate attempt to latch onto the latest trends and cheap production tricks of the girls on top at the moment, Kylie Minogue’s latest could not be perceived as more authentic to her artistry: Aphrodite is literally the essence of Kylie in audio form. The sparkling instrumentals, the euphoric, angelic coos–everything in this album is an authentic, unapologetic encapsulation the stuff of Kylie Minogue.

This isn’t just an incredible album, or even an album of the year (although it most certainly qualifies to win the title for both). As with Madonna’s Confessions or her own sister’s defining triumph, Neon Nights, Aphrodite is a complete and utter musical moment–a release for the ages, and ultimately, a classic in the making that will go on to become a glittering milestone in Kylie Minogue’s already illustrious career.

If Madonna is the Wicked Witch of the West, then Kylie is Glinda, the Good Witch of the North. She’s like a beacon of light for the gay community.

- Jake Shears on Kylie Minogue, as featured in a cover story written by Nick Haramis for the June/July issue of Blackbook Magazine.

Click here to read the entire story (and view the rest of photos from the shoot). Highly recommended reading!