*All photos of the TV taken by Neko without permission. Any parties involved who object: say the word and we will stop using the image (but I really just did it because I love them).

People always ask me "is it hard to be a woman in rock?" and upon much forced reflection I can only site two things that make it difficult: (1) repeatedly being asked that question; and (2) finding a clean toilet seat in a dirty rock club. Selfish princesses nationwide feel their asses are far too pristine to touch the seat: consequently they get their piss on the seat. So if you are a "mosquito-assed Mary," consider yourself warned. But I digress.

Wait -- a third thing. It's also hard when people ask me who are my favorite women in music, because where would I begin? It sucks to forget your favorites, so I've compiled some examples of very influential ladies and their music or music-related ideas:

Here are two great documentaries about musical ladies by two women filmmakers Greta Schiller and Andrea Weiss: "The Sweethearts of Rhythm" (taped off WTN) is the story of an all-female big band around the time of WW II. It tells of their struggle to play together despite racial barriers, at a time when white and black people were not supposed to play music together (or do anything else together, for that matter).

The band also had many critics who considered them a "novelty band" because they were women. The documentary tastefully does not beat this point to death, but instead shows fascinating, stellar footage of the ladies putting their money where their mouth is and just plain kicking that ass! Then the film segues to the story of the band’s star, trumpet player Tiny Davis, and her musical partner Ruby Lucas (aka René Phelan).

The heartbreakingly beautiful and humorous documentary "Hell Divin' Women" follows the career of the awe-inspiringly talented Tiny Davis, from her childhood to early bands like "The Hell Divers" to her days with "The Sweethearts of Rhythm." It talks about her move to Kansas City, where she met René Phelan, a musician who played piano, bass, and drums, and was also a great singer. The film talks about the scandals of the night club and after-hours scene in K.C. as well as the scandal surrounding their relationship. Both Tiny and René are great storytellers and the dialogue is extremely funny and uncensored (I love the word "pussy"). Any person who plays or loves music should watch this film. Tiny Davis' words on being a musician are some of the most eloquent, emotional, and inspiring I have ever heard.

A job well done by Greta and Andrea, thank you!

Next exhibit is a performance by Ike and Tina Turner doing "River Deep, Mountain High" on video. I don't know where it's from or where I got it, but it makes me well up every time I watch it. It's live footage and Tina's voice sounds a bit faraway, but it is so powerful and huge that you can hear lots of strange magic reverb caused by Tina basically shaking the building apart. She sings with such unselfconscious abandon, it's just mesmerizing. I also love getting to see the Ike-ettes, what a talented bunch of babes! I wish I was an Ike-ette (well, except for Ike).

Cathrine Ringer and Fred Chichen make up the French duo Les Rita Mitsouko, who, I'm told, were one of the most popular bands in France in the early '80s. They had a huge hit record called "The No-Comprendo" which was also quite popular in Canada (that's how I found them).

Their music is very theatrical and Cathrine's voice is vastly expressive. Huge. She doesn't really sound like anyone else to me but sometimes there’s a bit of Edith Piaf in there. I don't know a whole lot about them, but they are fascinating. My friend told me that Cathrine was once a porn star, and a fellow fan, Colin Turcotte, said she was a dancer at one time. I have to admit I'm a bit more curious about the porn thing, but I'm too lazy when it comes to computers (and I don't have one) to get on the Net and check it out. Besides, I do enjoy the mystery.

Their early music is more new wave and the '90s stuff is more dance-oriented, but it remains interesting and organic. Lots of acoustic instruments and Cathrine's unique voice keep me interested (note: Iggy Pop appears on "Systeme D"). One of the best things about them is their videos. Even the 80s videos look advanced when I watch them now and the 90s videos maintain the originality and strangeness that make me worship the band.

I think Cathrine Ringer gets my vote for #1 foxiest lady of all time as well.

When the song "Show Me the Meaning" by the Pretenders came out I was so excited because it filled a huge Otis Redding/Marvin Gaye gap in my life. Chrissy Hynde's vocals are so supple and pleading. She always gives off such confidence. I wouldn't fuck with Chrissy, but who would?

Ketty Lester was such a dynamic vocalist who should be as popular as Aretha or Billie or any of those ladies. She had a big hit with "Love Letters," but not much after that (again, I don't know that much about her, I don't even know if she's still alive, so I'm kind of talking out my ass, but I just want people to check out her records). I've just recently become acquainted with her stuff thanks to my friend Andrew, but I've become completely obsessed with the stalker-like "I'll Be Around" (I think I may even have to record it myself, not that I will be able to even touch her version). Her phrasing and emotional emphasis in the song surpass even Patsy Cline's in "He's Got You," in my opinion. Ketty has a voice that is so focused, dynamic, and controlled that she could surely have levitated bowling balls if she'd had a mind to.

The music to "I'll Be Around" is also very hypnotizing. It has that delicious orchestra-Platters-creepy-Christmas feel that makes me so weak and sappy. Fuzzy and sinister.

Bessie Griffin and her Gospel Pearls’ album "Swing Down Sweet Chariot" -- let me start by explaining that way back in the 80s I met an amazing lady named Laura Woods who became an really big influence on my life because she was one of the only other women in my hometown of Tacoma who was rabid about music, and she had a great record collection. She was wild and fun and became one of my best pals. We devoured music of all eras, especially if it was raunchy and homemade-sounding. We drank a lot, got into loads of trouble, and went on to be in our first two bands together, her on vocals and myself on drums.

She also loaned me the aforementioned album, the most influential album of my life. I'd never seen a copy before and haven't seen one since. It made me want to be a singer, and I thought it would surely make anyone else who heard it feel that way too. Alas, I don't know where to get a copy -- if you know, please tell me, or at least send a good tape. Bessie Griffin is a gospel singer who, in my opinion, has the greatest singing voice North America has ever produced. She's a passionate fountain, and the Gospel Pearls support and surround her with eerie precision. The band is so perfect and instinctive; the combination of voices, hands, drums, and piano are devastating.

I'd never heard anything so passionate. It crushed the thin brittle strains of the "Bringing in the Sheaves" of my memory under its thundering joyous wheels. There was nothing ironic or tacky about it. I didn't believe in God, and thought religion in general had no redeeming value, but those ladies convinced me I was too mortal to think that I could know for sure, no matter how punk rock I thought I was. They made me far more openminded and accepting of those ideas. They weren't kidding around, and God to them wasn’t some scary, pasty school superintendent like in the horrible Seventh Day Adventist experience I remember. He was joy and light and the path from misery.

Bessie's voice joyously kicked the ass of every genre of music that it ever spawned. They were a mighty superband, and I wish so badly that someone would re-release those old records. I know "Live at the Bear in Chicago" is available on CD somewhere, though I think it's now out of print. Her versions of "Lord Don't Move the Mountain," "Too Close," "Going Home to Live with God," "The Same Train," and "Wade in the Water" are all perfect and humbling. They make me feel desperate and thirsty and warm. I think she's still alive somewhere (I hope so). She's one of those people I'd give just about anything to meet, just so I could thank her. At least I can thank Laura Woods.

I feel so fortunate to have been a young teen when Sheila E. was having her run of hits in the early '80s. She was playing drums on TV in heavy rotation. She wasn't just keeping a beat, she was showing off in such an unapologetic "see-what-a-badass-I-am" sort of way. She (along with Heart) made it possible for me to believe that it really was Poison Ivy who was playing that guitar for the Cramps (but I'll get to that later). She had her own thing and also played with Prince, who I loved. Her drum solo in the "I Would Die for You/Baby I'm a Star" video really drove it home for me. I later became a drummer (not such a hot one unfortunately) and one day I walked into a music store to buy some miscellaneous items. Up on the wall there was a big poster of Sheila E., and her signature drum line. To my horror the hardware was all gold and the drums were kind of pink (or white, I can't remember) and flowery and I just thought "Oh Sheila, you've made girl-drums." I paid for my stuff and walked out. I felt rather deflated and imagined the hip music store guy running over to tell me that I'd forgotten the maxi-pad belt to go with my drum stuff. He waved it over his head. I realized later that having a big flowery drumset was about as ballsy as you can get (not to mention hilarious). You'd never catch anybody in Eric Clapton's band with one. I''d give my left nut for one of those posters now. Right on Sheila.

A pivotal moment in my life was when I realized that Poison Ivy, a hot sexy lady, played that dirty, evil, titillating guitar in the Cramps. I had "Songs the Lord Taught Us" and I loved it. One day, poring over the cover as I'd done a million times, it hit me. I was filled with shame. I loved music. How come I didn't think women played it?

From that day on, I was on a mission to find them all. Punk rock didn't have enough voices I could relate to at that time in my life, except X and a few others. That experience opened up a vast world to search through. All genres, all cultures, all eras. Most important to me was gospel and country. The Cramps were already shedding light on those other worlds. It was a double whammy. Then I bought "Live at the Peppermint Lounge," the best live album ever. It was the kind of music that was so raw and dirty you needed to be on birth control while you listened, Because Lux could knock you up, even if you were a boy. Sexy, sexy, sexy! And Ivy was the fire under the frying pan. She wore stripper outfits! (and still does!) I don’t know if anyone could possibly be cooler than her.