Should be in bed, instead creating a mixtape CD, listening to a sophomore slump and reminiscing about childhood antics with a boombox.

I am making a “mix tape” CD for a friend.

I think I will label it “because mix tapes are so outdated” — lay the words on with thick sharpie and backdate it to when I wrote my friend a letter a few weeks ago. I will send the items together through snail mail.

I feel so indie.

Indie — I throw that term around loosely and with more ease than even “my nigga” or “Google-Wiki it.”

“Why won’t you introduce me to some of your loose-lipped friends?”

It’s loose, this indie term. It whistles in the breeze like the bellowing lips of … well, just insert some well-known, older female celebrity and organize the dirty joke as you see fit.

I attach indie to all kinds of things: music, paintings, clothes, lifestyles, furniture, jargon, generic brands of peanut butter, word documents, surgical procedures, etc.

As long as it has some feeling of nostalgia; expensive and polished tastes badly disguised to look cheap, with a hint of snobbery.

I could go on, but will spare you the over-recycled topic of “defining indie.”

I forget exactly what songs I put on her “mix tape” CD. I recall the remix of “You Know I’m No Good” by Amy Winehouse featuring Ghostface Killah making it on the final cut.

The good thing about CDs is that they limit me in an age of musical gluttony, a time where electronic space is cheaper than dirt and downloading billions of free mp3s and storing them on a trillion GB hard drive is a reality.

I was forced to choose 14 songs that not only reflected my complex mood, but foresaw my friend’s musical tastes. These are truly the songs that I thought were worth sharing.

No wonder this can be addicting. With hundreds of Websites out there dedicated to mixtapes, (think Muxtape, Datpiff or any Website advertising shared playlists) I do not think I am alone.

I remember taping my favorite songs on the radio when I was in elementary school. Yes, I was on the tail-end of that movement. If the announcer did not name the song beforehand, I would miss the intro. A typical tape would be full of cut-off pieces of songs, hashed together from multiple stations and intermingled with scripted and recorded “radio programs” that my brothers helped me make (our boom boxes obviously had mics for us to make fools of ourselves with).

I remember spoofs on “Who Wants To Be A Millionaire” and smacking my brother to get the right sound effect on the microphone. We would record real radio commercials in our plays — only if we ran out of fake commercial ideas of our own, though.

Anyways, I am listening to The Raconteurs new album right now, which I may or may not have illegally downloaded.

The first song, “Salute your Solution” sounds like an Allman Brothers inspired take on “White Orchid.” I am afraid Jack White is gaining more and more control of this side project.

Brendan Benson continues to act more like a hypeman in a rap group rather than a co-frontman in a super rock group. It is a shame. I hardly hear his voice at all in these songs.

The songs are still catchy as ever, though. Plenty of blues inspired tracks. Each member is superb at their instruments. I recommend downloading live performances of the Raconteurs.

The live recordings floating out there really showcase their musical abilities. You will not be dissapointed by the many jams, lengthened introductions and strange nuances on studio versions.

“Bang, Bang! My Baby Shot Me Down!”

The smooth indie influence that was so prevalent in their last album is toned down; it has been replaced with tinged, dirty rock n’ roll a la the 70s.

this latest track, “Many Shades of Black,” just threw a curve ball at me. I do not like it. I am certain some Motown group has done a similar version of this song and 500 times better.

“Pull This Blanket Off” reminds me of a multitude of songs off “Get Behind Me Satan.” Sorry to make so many references to other White Stripes projects, but I hardly hear the other members’ influences. They are all drowned out by Jack White’s wailing and smashing guitar riffs.

Pretty much all the “experiments” in this album were already done in the 70s.

“Rich Kids Blues” is like a Led Zeppelin song clashing with the Who.

I will finish at this point in my listening. I am under the high horse assumption that the next three songs will not redeem this album. I need to get to bed anyways.

In the end, “Consoler of the Lonely” is listenable (and I will surely listen to it), but it is definitely a sophomore slump.

Representing the Other X Chromosome; An Ode to Bands with Boobs, Spunk and Sometimes, Tap Shoes

Ever since women’s suffrage, there has been a steady influx of girls rocking musical instruments. The trend goes like this: chicks replace dicks in rock bands.

Yes, the times are changing.

Women are outnumbering men in higher education. Hillary Clinton is a strong contender in the Democratic race. Indie bands turn men more feminine than the women they play with.

I watched a live performance of Paramore online and mistook the guitarist as a woman. Just at first. It was the ridiculously long side-bangs and cleavage-cut shirt.

I am embarrassed to admit I watched Paramore, let alone that I mistook the guy for a girl, but it is a perfect example of the influence women are having on rock.

I mean, try picturing the Cure without eyeliner and smudged lipstick.

It is not just the clothes, makeup and accessories though.

The roots of women rockers lies in the plethora of girl-groups that existed during Motown’s reign. The women who sang classical blues in the 20s and 30s precede even this.

The biggest evolution in music is the mixture of male and female influences into one sound and the prevailing notion of “girls as always the singer” lessening over time.

Not that female singers are a bad thing; far from it. Joni Mitchell and Janis Joplin prove that girls can belt a tune straight to the soul’s core. No Doubt, Jefferson Airplane, Evanesence and the Yeah Yeah Yeahs are all bands with strong, female lead singers (although I would argue the musicality of Evanesence).

Besides singing, many instruments are being grabbed up by women. Even those that have been traditionally masculine in practice. The bass seems to be a popular choice now-a-days.

With her simple, driving bass lines and innocent singing, Kim Deal is amazingly apt as the Pixies bassist. Sharin Foo from the Raveonettes is yet another example of a famous rock bassist. There is also the Talking Heads bassist, Tina Weymouth, … the list goes on forever.

The reason many women turn to the bass guitar is not clear.

Below is an odd and less-than-convincing explanation for the prevalence of women bass players (found on answers.yahoo.com):

“isnt the neck usually thinner? i dont know anything about them or guitars, but i have held one (YEARS AGO) and thought i remembered that. i dunno tho, i’d rather play bass if i were playing, it just seems easier to me (based oh my guitar hero experiences lol).”

The thing to keep in mind is that women and men are integrating more in music then ever before.

The Ettes are a band that break the mold. All the components of the band are women except for the bass guitarist. Their garage rock sound is infectious. Plus, I am a sucker for girls who play drums and make it look good. Other bands with notable female drummers are The White Stripes and Deadboy and The Elephantmen. Like the Ettes, both have that classic garage sound.

Tilly and the Wall is a band with a tap dancer in lieu of a drummer. This is their gimmick and it works quite well. She is quite attractive and a constant amusement to watch during performances. Unfortunately, they do not take advantage of her and the great chemistry between the other band members when recording. Synthesizers and drum machines replace any authentic sound and deteriorate the chemistry witnessed in their live shows. Stomps and tap dancing do shine through, but it is not the same and only becomes repetitive. Logical gut instincts dictate it can never be the same as watching her tramp across the stage live. And with that knowledge, they become just another generic indie-band. A generic indie-band that I would pay to see any day if they came through Florida.

Obviously, my miniature pseudo-history of women’s rock is butchered at best. It passes over events as smoothly as Dick Cheney passes homeless vets on the sidewalk.

There are flaws. Entire genres of music are ignored and a number of female artists not mentioned. Mostly, I did not want this post to become cumbersome and long, listing every female rocker who contributed to music and then still missing some.

Although, I guess it turned into a list anyways.

So continuing the list format of this post, here are some other female musicians you should either look up, re-acquaint yourself with, or nod in satisfaction to.

Dixie Chicks — I liked them even better after they were shunned for being “unpatriotic”. Plus, “Goodbye Earl” is classic.

Salt and Peppa — I think I saw one of them on a reality show recently.

Missy Elliot — She is one of the hottest and most creative rappers alive. Her music slaps a grin on your face.

Patti Smith — I saw an interesting picture of her sweating in front of barrels of fire.

Cat Power — A minimalistic Bob Dylan meets Nico.

Corinne Bailey Rae– “Girl, put your records on, tell me your favorite song…”

Feist — I love the counting and the banjo in “1234″. It’s like Elmo and Big Bird wrote the song.

Kim Gordon — Yet another female bassist. She plays in the highly influential band, Sonic Youth.

Odetta — I have a feeling this woman could knock me on my back with her powerful lungs. I imagine myself leaning toward her in a whirlwind gale. Her guitar strumming is phenomenal.

M.I.A — I mentioned her before. I believe it was my first post on this blog.