Since MTV seems to be preoccupied with running "My Super Sweet 16th Birthday: The Spoiled Brat Chronicles" and "The Hills: As Real As The Script Let's Us Be", I've taken it upon myself to highlight a few music videos. In classic tradition, I'm going Good, Bad and Ugly.
The Good:
Fresh of his mainstream fame in "The Hangover", Zac Galifianakis gets his Hype Williams on and crushes these two videos. Simple concept yet really, really funny in both cases.
1.) Fiona Apple - "Not About Love" (YouTube won't let me embed?)
2.) Kanye West - "Can't Tell Me"
(Better quality version here)
The Bad: Muse - Knights of Cydonia
I really don't know where to start with this one. The tone is set around the 1:10 mark. A random, Wade Boggs lookalike cowboy, while riding horse through desert, takes out laser gun and shoots small bush with blue laser, setting it ablaze. I mean why wouldn't you? Clearly that 6 inch bush needed a good burning. And what was it thinking, just growing like that?! Ugh, the nerve of natural vegetation sometimes.
The Ugly: Blondie vs. The Doors - Rapture Rider
First, in no way is this a knock on The Doors - in fact, the first 1:20 are quite enjoyable. But after that initial Doors kick, this wannabe cracked out version of Michelle Pfeiffer comes in and just craps all over the video. Not literally, although some may interpret that as an upgrade. And what the hell is the half-naked black guy dressed as an Indian doing hiding behind a fake bush?! (2:10 mark)
Sunday, July 12, 2009
Wednesday, July 1, 2009
My relationship with Lady Gaga will be contentious from here on out
It's been months, kids. You know what that means, right? Time to unload those pet peeves like a toddler with a bag of skittles. Did that makes sense? Absolutely not - just prepping you for what's below...
Radio Station loyalty - Poor radio - left in the dust by that damn Internetz years ago, AM/FM radio stations have less to look forward to than Bernie Madoff on a Friday night. Flooded by repetitive Autotune-laced, Lil Wayne-infected, Lady Gaga-esque garbage, radio stations continue to pepper my cranium with 75% garbage music (PITBULL), 10% commercials, 10% self-promotion and 5% quality music that I don't give a shit about.
But for the next paragraph or so, I'd like to focus my bitch juice on the 10% station self-promotion. The new radio station** in Los Angeles seems keen on reminding me of all the listeners that have "made the switch" to the NEW ninetysometherother(point)whatever. Wait, made the switch? Surely these callers mean temporarily, right? No? You're telling me they actually leave their radios tuned to your station while you blast commercials for low interest rate, used car rip-off centers? How loyal of your young brainwashed clan of robots! But hey, Seacrest, get real. The second I hear some thirty-something, wannabe-sexy Dracula voiceover guy trying to pitch me a BK Chicken Crisper, I punch the next number. Hell no I don't know what station I'm changing it to, I just cycle buttons 2 - 6 on my dial until I hit the illustrious commercial-free land.
But what if every one of you clone stations are playing that damn Pitbull song? (It's happened numerous times before) - I lay down my ace-in-the-hole. You guessed it, NPR, motha shuckas. Damn right I'd rather listen to a four minute story on a blind Afghan sheep farmer than hear Lady Gaga talk about her disco stick.
**by new radio station, I mean a station that is an exact clone of at least three others.
Lady Gaga - - This human waste of space is shooting up my list of "Top 3 reasons to Hate Humanity". So far the list goes like this:
1.) Time Warner Cable / AT&T
2.) Lady Gaga
3.) Lady Gaga
If only Lady Gaga would have a dumb robot call me from blocked number every week to remind me about a bill I'm well aware of. Anyone know her reps?
Anyway, I've got questions about this whole "disco stick" she keeps referring to. Since I have no idea what the f*ck that means, can I just make it up and we go from there? Great! Ok, here we go - my disco stick is a Howitzer cannon aimed at your right knee cap. It will fire lead buck shot in your direction next time it hears the song "Poker Face" (t-minus 10 minutes, on those sweet LA radio waves, honey!)
Better stop there, I think I just woke up my local ATF office.
The phrase "Don't Judge a Book by its Cover" - Come on, that's like me telling you not to judge me even though I reek like Colt-45. Sure, I'm probably drunk, but what if I'm not and I just smell??
Ok fine, all the authors / librarians / teachers out there, you win. I promise from here on out I won't judge a book by its cover.
Instead? I'll read the last two pages, back cover and shitty review on Amazon.com.
Lastly - I must apologize for unloading my pent up annoyances on you like Wade Boggs unloads on a 24 rack. I'd like to keep up with this blog, but when you find yourself repeatedly sleeping on a couch at work, it's much easier just to bitch in person. So, to take you into my next post, I leave you with two things I actually like.
1. Charles Hamilton / Drake - Two fresh voices in a terribly stagnant rap music industry. Hate on rap all you want, but there IS good material out there. Neither have a CD out now, just mix tapes that are well worth the search. Here's Charles Hamilton's "Brooklyn Girls"
2. Golf - Ok, it's a bit of a cop-out answer, but I seriously wanted to feed my golf clubs to the next pond I saw for the last year. But, after a couple rehab rounds in San Diego and Ohio, I'm back on the bag. How long will this fix last? Probably until the next 90 I post. Until then, swing away.
Radio Station loyalty - Poor radio - left in the dust by that damn Internetz years ago, AM/FM radio stations have less to look forward to than Bernie Madoff on a Friday night. Flooded by repetitive Autotune-laced, Lil Wayne-infected, Lady Gaga-esque garbage, radio stations continue to pepper my cranium with 75% garbage music (PITBULL), 10% commercials, 10% self-promotion and 5% quality music that I don't give a shit about.
But for the next paragraph or so, I'd like to focus my bitch juice on the 10% station self-promotion. The new radio station** in Los Angeles seems keen on reminding me of all the listeners that have "made the switch" to the NEW ninetysometherother(point)whatever. Wait, made the switch? Surely these callers mean temporarily, right? No? You're telling me they actually leave their radios tuned to your station while you blast commercials for low interest rate, used car rip-off centers? How loyal of your young brainwashed clan of robots! But hey, Seacrest, get real. The second I hear some thirty-something, wannabe-sexy Dracula voiceover guy trying to pitch me a BK Chicken Crisper, I punch the next number. Hell no I don't know what station I'm changing it to, I just cycle buttons 2 - 6 on my dial until I hit the illustrious commercial-free land.
But what if every one of you clone stations are playing that damn Pitbull song? (It's happened numerous times before) - I lay down my ace-in-the-hole. You guessed it, NPR, motha shuckas. Damn right I'd rather listen to a four minute story on a blind Afghan sheep farmer than hear Lady Gaga talk about her disco stick.
**by new radio station, I mean a station that is an exact clone of at least three others.
Lady Gaga - - This human waste of space is shooting up my list of "Top 3 reasons to Hate Humanity". So far the list goes like this:
1.) Time Warner Cable / AT&T
2.) Lady Gaga
3.) Lady Gaga
If only Lady Gaga would have a dumb robot call me from blocked number every week to remind me about a bill I'm well aware of. Anyone know her reps?
Anyway, I've got questions about this whole "disco stick" she keeps referring to. Since I have no idea what the f*ck that means, can I just make it up and we go from there? Great! Ok, here we go - my disco stick is a Howitzer cannon aimed at your right knee cap. It will fire lead buck shot in your direction next time it hears the song "Poker Face" (t-minus 10 minutes, on those sweet LA radio waves, honey!)
Better stop there, I think I just woke up my local ATF office.
The phrase "Don't Judge a Book by its Cover" - Come on, that's like me telling you not to judge me even though I reek like Colt-45. Sure, I'm probably drunk, but what if I'm not and I just smell??
Ok fine, all the authors / librarians / teachers out there, you win. I promise from here on out I won't judge a book by its cover.
Instead? I'll read the last two pages, back cover and shitty review on Amazon.com.
Lastly - I must apologize for unloading my pent up annoyances on you like Wade Boggs unloads on a 24 rack. I'd like to keep up with this blog, but when you find yourself repeatedly sleeping on a couch at work, it's much easier just to bitch in person. So, to take you into my next post, I leave you with two things I actually like.
1. Charles Hamilton / Drake - Two fresh voices in a terribly stagnant rap music industry. Hate on rap all you want, but there IS good material out there. Neither have a CD out now, just mix tapes that are well worth the search. Here's Charles Hamilton's "Brooklyn Girls"
2. Golf - Ok, it's a bit of a cop-out answer, but I seriously wanted to feed my golf clubs to the next pond I saw for the last year. But, after a couple rehab rounds in San Diego and Ohio, I'm back on the bag. How long will this fix last? Probably until the next 90 I post. Until then, swing away.
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