Call Me Madam!

Hey guys, take the fall's fabulous female celebrity dating guide and leave the grenades behind.

By a.d. amorosi

I'm not sure what about fall weather makes magazines (and left-leaning alterna-weeklies) so inquisitive about our dating lives. No matter how badly we want "it," from the dawn of time we have excavated, rated, and berated the opposite sex to near extinction in every medium; or should I say "we've" been rated?

For the most part, magazines have a tendency of putting "men only" under a microscope: "Is HE Mr. Right or Mr. Wrong?""Does HE Snore During or After Cunnilingus?""Was HE Involved in the Mai Lai Massacre?" From penis length to earning girth, it's predominantly the male of the species that is tossed around for study. Even the last bastion of young maledom, Details, recently carried an embarrassing "five type" guide to dude behavior. Only five types of guys. Sheez, even veal comes in more flavors than five.

The problem is that nobody researches the female. Nobody asks about her capacity for sexual endurance, her money making strengths, the size and width of her anything — anything at all. So I've taken on the responsibility of cataloging the "now female," utilizing famous gal performing artists as the bait and the Details chart (made up by a woman no less) as a frame.

Look, ladies, I'm not saying you ain't pretty. All I'm saying (because I know women are the smarter gender) is that we men need to reduce the other side to asinine stereotypes.

1) THE SHOWY BRASSY TYPE

How can any man resist a woman who's a little like Carol Channing, a little like Ethel Merman? Some guys would shiver at the thought of such boldness, such unabashed unflappability, such Kander-Ebbness. Not me. I like a woman who knows many different kinds of show tunes and can belt 'em out brashly or saunter 'em out tenderly. Proves they can go either way in bed, which is why k.d. lang is our brassy singing babe for fall.

Her new All You Can Eat (Warner Brothers) takes some funky '70s cues from the ultimate gal book Even Cowgirls Get the Blues (for which k.d. did the soundtrack), applying wah-wahs and jumpy percussion (especially on "Sexuality") where once laid pedal steels and dobros. It's tart and disco-y without turning into Andrea True. Like Cowgirls, it is a lyrical show of Dada strength without the Zen goofiness. Any woman who can belt out phrases like "I Want It All" and "Acquiesce This" and still sound wanting is OK with me. The downside is she doesn't want YOU. Any you.

2) THE CLENCHED JAW

Strong, able bodied, lean — the type of woman who can keep a Marlboro Red firmly implanted between her gloriously cheap lipsticked pout while telling the state trooper to "fuck off" while he's writing the speeding ticket. Has great sinewy arms and nearly no chest. Likes a) to be called "bitch" b) to press her forefinger forcefully into your ass and c) to be on top, and you will too... whether it's the crunchy strong arm sounds of Kim Deal & the Amps whose Pacer disc (Elektra) sounds so much better than any of her Breeders stuff it's scary, Angela Bassett in Strange Days or Linda Fiorentino in the movie Jade in which she out-toughs Chazz Palminteri. And we can't forget Kim Gordon whose lanky frame and spin cycling band Sonic Youth will play the Electric Factory on Oct. 18.

3) THE KOOKY HOSTESS

It's 1969 and you don't listen to Jimi Hendrix, though you dream about him as your black male fantasy fuck. Your world is more Dean Martin than Dean Moriarty. The revolution starts at the 5: 00 martini and ends with a Jacqueline Susann novel. Your bathroom and your nails are impeccable; your body is slightly soft but pert in all the right places. Guys, if this sounds like your type of woman, look no further than Ann Magnuson. Cinematically, she's let Bowie lick her all over, let Mel Gibson pay for her car and was horny for River Phoenix. Musically, she was half of the too-smug-for-words psychedelic rock band Bongwater, mixing equal parts Roky Erickson and Rusty Warren.

Magnuson's first solo album The Luv Show (Geffen) takes all the above and places them between Park and Avenue A. It's the only record you'll find that's about waterbeds, pussy and spending sprees that doesn't sound like Motley Crue.

Don't be fooled by faux kookiness though boys; f'rinstance on the very same record label as Ann is Lisa Loeb and Nine Stories, whose Tails do not wag in truly sexy fashion, who's "Stay"-ing power is based on mere whining and not cigarette stained bitching. Nope, she's a one tear wonder who just wants to guilt you into giving her the things that gals like Ann and Linda TAKE.

4) THE SENSITIVE TYPE

The type that tells you they love you and means it. The type that tells you she's going to write prose while the sunlight comes streaming through the blinds. The type who puts her arms back and lets the hair under her arms blow gently in the breeze while you're giving her head. Often, this type is dreamy, lovely and intelligent, especially in the case of a thought process like Joan Armatrading's, who plays the Keswick on Nov. 9 (with the almost as equally wonderful Susan Werner). Armatrading's show will be a welcome respite from the pretenders who've popped up while she's been away — annoying, cloying, issues-oriented, dull conversationalists like Tracy Chapman, who still remains unwelcome, no matter how long she stays away.

But most especially and most irritatingly, there's Natalie Merchant. If there was any way I could do an anti-critic's pick, it would be for her. I hated her in 10,000 Maniacs. I hate her now. Like somebody who spends two days at camp and spends a week telling you about the insights, Merchant comes on so plainly, so BLAHLY that you don't realize an alien tissue has entered the bloodstream and is about to claw you to death. I've always been crazy about the faux French, little girl with white socks, light hair on the shins and no underwear look. As long as they don't sound like Merchant.

SPACEJUNK: Talking about Lisa Loeb: Was that local drummer Ronnie Crawford playing behind her the other night on the new and improved Saturday Night Live? No truth (yet) to the rumor that the highly regarded stickman, currently slinging for June Rich, has supposedly been offered a slot on Friends as their percussion pal. Rim shot... All new, all live: Painter/Mob weasel John Stango takes it on the 1 a.m. to Manayunk this Friday night. He'll be showing a whole new series of his works Oct. 13 at the Katherine Starr Gallery, 4235 Main St. Ten percent off all merchandise when you bring this ad!... Sundays at midnight just got an extra added bonus at Black Banana, what with the inclusion of DJ MG's (late of Revival and Swingers) new trance house party "Sweet Dreams." Lights and computer visuals come with the package... Evil funky trio FOR are now ready for Phase Two of their attack. After releasing one of 1993's best local debuts, FOR (along with drummer/ producer/ banana seat connoisseur Chuck D.) comes up for air with the six song EP "Sugarsmackdaddy" coming out any sec... Out now: Low Road drummer Mark Schreiber and wife Cindy just had a release date on their debut production a baby girl, Abagail Rose... Now that performance/ poetry space Etage is reopening, old Philly perf. art type Marty Watt seems to be hangin' round... Band name of the week: Longtime NYC fave (and new Rounder label act) Simon & the Bar Sinisters with over 300 tunes to their name, will play Silk City Wed., Oct. 18 — a great aprs Sonic Youth soiree!... Cool REM clones of the week: If you can't make it to the Spectrum to see Stipe and Co., catch Poole at the Khyber, Oct. 14. Their new disc Alaska Days takes the old REM revved up Byrdsiness to another more beat poetic level. Rocks hard too!... A few boy birthdays, so arm wrestle these guys when you see em: monster manager Derek Dorsey and citywide security maestro Big Jay.