Debbie Harry Did Facelift 'Homework'

Debbie Harry was not concerned about getting a facelift because she did her ''homework'' and interviewed the people so she didn't ''panic'' about it.

Debbie Harry did her "homework" before she got a facelift.
The 65-year-old singer admits she had a facelift in the early 90s but did not "panic" about her decision which has led to it "holding up well".
She said: "I was careful about who I went with. I looked around, I interviewed. For me, it wasn't just a madness. That does happen, panic sets in, and people make bad decisions. But not me, I did my homework.
"There were places I went to that were really scary and I ran out."
The Blondie star believes she would have had a facelift even if she wasn't a celebrity because it made her feel better about herself.
She added: "I think I'd been very depressed about myself, I might not have done it. But it gave me a certain encouragement and satisfaction."
Debbie now likes to look after herself and thinks it is important as a woman to consider getting old and what she can do to stop it.
She told Observer Food Monthly: "Women just have a more rigorous time physically than men. It's a challenge.
"Sometimes I would love to eat a whole pizza. But then I follow it through in my head. You eat the pizza and then you go home and feel rough about yourself. You're just going to regret it. I don't kid myself about that."

Contactmusic

Blondie Cover Beirut, Do a Way Better Job

 

It’s not every day you see a group of Rock and Roll Hall of Famers doing a song by a band that’s about three decades their junior, but new wave overlords Blondie don’t just cover Beirut’s “A Sunday Smile,” they kind of kick the original’s ass. Not that we’re the biggest Beirut fans here at Popdust to begin with, but we don’t know how you can listen to Blondie’s smooth and sweet reggae rendition of the song—featuring Beirut leader Zach Condon repeating the original’s trumpet part, which was the best part of that version anyway—and not find it infinitely preferable. No shame in that, Zach—far better men than you have lost out to the still-bewitching coo of Debbie Harry over the course of pop history.

Between this and the stellar new cut “Mother“—both for upcoming album Panic of Girls—we might have a full-scale Blondie revival on our hands before we know it. Bout damn time if you ask me.

Listen to Sunday Smile - Blondie (Beirut Cover)

Brian Zwiener: Music Listen: Blondie Covers Beirut’s ‘A Sunday S...

Brian Zwiener: Music Listen: Blondie Covers Beirut’s ‘A Sunday S...: "The version is off Blondie’s upcoming album. Debbie Harry and company will self-release “ Panic of Girls ” in September, and, ..."

Brian Zwiener: Blank City revisits New York's 1970s film scene

Brian Zwiener: Blank City revisits New York's 1970s film scene: "n the 1970s, a strange nexus of art, film, drugs and rock and roll thrived in the burnt out neighborhoods of New York's Lower East Side. C..."

Brian Zwiener: Debbie Harry Is Adopting!

Brian Zwiener: Debbie Harry Is Adopting!: "The famed Blondie lead singer is telling friends she's feeling maternal these days. And rather than adopt a club kid, she's wisely decided..."

Blank City revisits New York's 1970s film scene

n the 1970s, a strange nexus of art, film, drugs and rock and roll thrived in the burnt out neighborhoods of New York's Lower East Side. Celine Danhier's Blank City revisits the film scene and her documentary is buoyed by some of the filmmakers and performers who survived the scene's rougher edges. The interviewees include filmmaker Jim Jarmusch, actor Steve Buscemi, Debbie Harry, Lydia Lunch and John Waters. The film opens at Zeitgeist Friday.

Blank City is another project touching on a strange and chaotic period of change in New York in the 1970s. Patti Smith (who appears in the film) released her memoir Just Kids about her relationship with photographer Robert Mapplethorpe and New York's art scene in 2010. The 1970s might be the last time artists could find cheap apartments in lower Manhattan. The Lower East Side was gritty and mean, and music clubs like CBGBs and Max's Kansas City thrived. New York was on the verge of bankruptcy in the mid-70s, and the power blackout in summer 1977 exposed the chaotic underbelly of the city. The film captures a scene before many of its members realized financial success and drifted uptown to Studio 54 and others fell victim to the AIDS epidemic.

Among the burned out buildings downtown, artists found cheap places to rent or squat. Filmmakers produced short features with Super-8 and 16mm film in less than a month for almost no money, and a film scene developed. (It was in many ways the opposite end of the spectrum of a great era of artistic and popular achievement in filmmaking in California at the same time). Many of the filmmakers took on rough and vulgar subjects, nihilistic perspectives (especially Nick Zedd) and the movement was sometimes referred to as the Cinema of Transgression and/or No Wave film. It's probably worth revisiting some of the films, including Eric Mitchell's The Foreigner, a feature involving the punk scene and starring Debbie Harry, and Jarmusch's Permanent Vacation and Stranger Than Paradise.

In some ways, the scene was a post-Beat Generation urban nightmare: a bohemian cluster coping with harder drugs, urban blight and a punk-like rejection of aesthetics. There is an unavoidable air of pretension in the way many of the filmmakers and musicians pursued art with indifference to technique — or having training or experience. There's also something very positive about the way they set out to make their own, new art. They don't proclaim that they made great works, but they were all drawn to the bubble of raw creativity that grew below between Avenue B and the Bowery. Blank City puts that scene under the microscope and its an interesting look at a peculiar social scene that helped produce some notable talents and underground legends if not lasting works (in film — the music scene produced more lasting works).

Watch Blank City - Trailer