Sunday, February 24, 2019

Life as a Dating Profile: A Brief History of Deee-Lite


I still believe the best accessory is a smile, the best attitude is no attitude, and the only permanent thing about me is change. Lady Miss Kier [on style]

Oldsters will remember Deee-Lite’s Groove Is in the Heart from 1991. If so, they’ll remember the image of Lady Miss Kier (née Kierin Magenta Kirby) and her stunning visual charisma and style as indelible brain graffiti. She presented herself as exotic, aided in part by her retro fashion sense and loud print obsessions. Her opening spoken riff from Groove added well to the myth – not bad from a girl whose origins were anything but; I’ve no idea of her ethnic background but as she was Ohio-born and raised and I’m going to guess she’s a Midwestern white girl through and through. Though, credit her for getting out as soon as she could – she moved to NYC right out of high school. Also, props for her elegant and completely transformative reinvention.

That’s the context: But this isn’t for just simply touting the brilliant sparkle of Lady Miss Kier. Instead, I’m here to drag corporatism and the muthaf**kas that create the culture we live in. She’d prove to be yet another one of its multitudinous victims.

Kier’s style and presentation were considered fire back in the day – if not still. I’d hesitate to give too much credit to the other two members for Deee-Lite’s sound since it was mostly standard-issue sample sausage dance groove. What is interesting is that corporate beastmasters thought so highly of Lady Miss Kier and her outfit that after a label bidding war, Deee-Lite was offered a seven album deal with Elektra Records. (Note: This is according to Wikipedia so we may need to take the claim with some salt. The only other mention of this “deal” I could find was on a Deee-Lite fan page.) That’s right: Seven. Who gets that? No one and, as it turned out, neither did they.

So, after all the dating profile-like effrontery and foreplay, like some creepy nerd who tries to slip in the tongue with his New Year’s Eve kiss, their record company went totally Capitalist dickhead:

After global success, tours, dance club fame, and a single peaking #4 on Billboard, Warner Brothers refused to pay for the recording of a second album. Deee-Lite managed to pull together the cash and financed the follow-up themselves. Of course, their second offering didn’t come close to the smash of the first which I suspect was a problem WB was expecting. They did manage two Top 40 hits, however – which would be respect enough for anyone. Their third album fared a little better.

But after five years together, and the dissolution of the marriage between Lady Miss Kier and husband and band partner Supa DJ Dimitry, Deee-Lite would de-commissioned. And the will of Capitalism would take another.



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