Saint Eve Music

For information on Gabrielle and The House of St. Eve

A few years ago, I was in Monaco with my friend Mereille, an incredible hostess and promoter. It was nearly impossible to find venues in the south of France that might endure a quasi industrial pop sound like St. Eve, at the time, but she managed to get me well paying gigs - notably, the Cuban music club where the owner's son was desperate for anything rock-ish. I performed by myself for an audience of staff and a table of his friends, in my leather bat wings between enormous banners of Che Guevara. I am still worried my Cuban mother, exiled in the sixties and living as a mighty Republican in Miami, might see a photo of that.

One day, Mireille excitedly brought me to a "rock-n-roll night" at a posh Monaco club. We sat on impeccable, comfy sofas and ordered Cosmos as the horn players came in. After counting five players, I told her not to worry about getting me a gig there, and for us to simply enjoy ourselves. Still, she insisted the DJ should hear my cd, and in a matter of minutes, we were staring at him listening intently during the band's set.

The band kicked into a killer rendition of a Chicago song. Mireille looked at me encouragingly as we noticed the DJ working his way toward our seats behind perfect blondes, lapping up drinks pinker than ours with the rich men who bought them. Mr. DJ found us, smiled, and said he liked it very much. Pausing with deepest regrets in his manner, he handed back the disc with these words, "It's too metal for Monaco."

To this day I fight off putting that phrase on a business card.

In the meantime, I am working on other projects like Sex Crimes Cabaret.