Monday, December 21, 2009

Listening Post: Bonus "Girl, Interrupted" Edition


Who knows what killed Brittany Murphy (I hate to admit it but my first reaction was the time-tested "Cocaine is a Hell of a Drug" theory) but now that she's gone at, really, far too young an age, it's worth pointing out one of the best little diversions of her career. I'm talking about the song she recorded for Paul Oakenfold's 2006 album A Lively Mind -- a damn sexy dance track called Faster Kill Pussycat that featured her appropriately purring vocals over Oakenfold's trademark turntable and programming wizardry.

Brittany Murphy was a talented actress. And you know something? She was a pretty cool singer too.

Man, 2009 -- the Year of Death. It's like the whole decade was so fucking awful that somebody had to make sure a bunch of well-known people wouldn't even get out of it alive.

5 comments:

Alanna said...

Oh wow. I didn't realize that was her on this track. Pretty good, actually. Pretty sad. I'd like to bet it was a RX malatov cocktail combined w/ the fact that she probably had not eaten a solid meal in 4 years.

Her husband creeps me out.

CNNfan said...

Has anyone ever see Brittany Murphy sing at "Les Miserables"?

Chez you are in NYC, have you?

Alanna, reports say it was natural causes.

Only the good die young.

Felis Femina said...

I just wonder how many more of young Hollywood (or Hollywood, in general) have to die before celebrities and their hordes of yes-men stop treating rehab like it's a resort spa, and the doctors stop prescribing multitudes of prescription drugs to them just because they're famous.

@CNNfan,

"natural causes" just means it wasn't homicide/suicide/foul play, etc. The cardiac arrest could still have been caused by drug use.

Anonymous said...

She also sang on "Happy Feet" and was fantastic. So sad.

Anonymous said...

Fuck, that song and video are so sexy. And it's good sexy -- not sleazy or cliched, but damn you can't take your eyes off Ms. Murphy in the whole video.

This song makes we want to dance in a darkened New York after-hours club, sweaty and close to strangers and a few drinks prior to the fact. Damn.