Showing posts with label music. Show all posts
Showing posts with label music. Show all posts
Monday, September 15, 2008
Monday, September 08, 2008
Monday, September 01, 2008
Tuesday, August 26, 2008
This picture proves John McCain's evolution in douchebaggery
Can anyone else pinpoint the exact moment when John McCain became a supreme douche? Ugh. He's morphed into a Republican android.
Us Weekly dishes on Madonna's limp dicked Hitler-McCain analogy. (Really, Madge? How nouveau riche.) Meanwhile, Idolator belches the factoids on McCain's celebrity endorsements. If his Daddy Yankee shout-out doesn't deliver the 12-year-old Mexican girl vote, I don't know what will, dear reader.
"It's not surprising that Barack Obama and his fellow celebrities stick together," McCain spokesperson Taylor Griffin sniffed.
Apparently, Griffin's been reading Bill Hobbs' wah-bulance playbook again. Cry me a frickin' river.
Friday, July 25, 2008
I can't stop listening to this song
The blogzines jizzed all over themselves in late-2007 with the release of Black Kids' four-song demo, Wizard of Ahhhs. With Morrissey-style vocals and spazzy neo-retro synths, "I'm Not Going to Teach Your Boyfriend How to Dance With You" is a slice of indie-pop opium. With their recent Columbia Records debut and Letterman appearance, expect the hipstertards to fall back on the 'ol "slutty capitalist sell-outs" mememe.
Saturday, July 12, 2008
I can't stop listening to this song
Santogold's "L.E.S. Artistes" is like The Hipster Handbook, but with throbbing handclaps and dripping sarcasm. Sometimes, I listen to this song without a trace of irony.
"It's true. New York City donkey-punches Nylon Taffeta Slim Fit-wearing nabes from suburbia," I sob.
If only Santi White asked me to appear in her hipper-than-thou vid. I would've danced my capri-fitted ass off.
Saturday, June 28, 2008
Baby Dee: Big Titty Bee Girl From Dino Town
In honor of Gay Pride, feast your eyes on Baby Dee's "Big Titty Bee Girl from Dino Town."
NPR: Unclassifiable Musician Baby Dee is now 'Safe'
Sunday, June 15, 2008
Tony Awards live-blogging...sorta
I am eating Acapulco Caliente (mmm, sweet garlic butter shrimp) and watching the Tonys with my boyfriend. I still haven't seen 'Passing Strange' yet. The BF saw 'Passing Strange' Off-Broadway at Joe's Pub when it only cost $30.
8:51pm: Julie Chen's at the Tony Awards? Jesus, they either have low star wattage or I smell network synergy.
8:54pm: The dude from Fountains of Wayne co-wrote the score to 'Cry-Baby?' That's some crazy shit.
8:58pm: I fucking hate the dude from 'In the Heights.' His acceptance speech consisted of half-rapping his thank-yous. What a fucking douche.
8:59pm: Isn't 'In the Heights' just a slightly updated version of 'West Side Story' with rapping? Talk amongst yourselves.
9:01pm: A shirtless singing interlude from 'South Pacific?' Gee, someone likes to force male objectification down the gay viewing audience's collective throat.
9:04pm: 'South Pacific' is why most heterosexual dudes hate Broadway. Give me some 'Passing Strange,' 'Avenue Q' and Kiki and Herb.
9:07pm: The reason why the Tony Awards are full of shit: They rewarded 'Legally Blonde: The Musical' last year. Their opening number, "Oh My God, You Guys!", makes you wanna go ahead with your long-buried suicide attempt.
9:10pm: My boyfriend fell asleep. If gays are falling asleep, what hope is there for everyone else?
Friday, June 13, 2008
10 Hour Party People
The unwashed masses are roasting like sunbaked clams in Manchester, Tenn. for Bonnaroo this weekend. And I hate every last one of you.
You get to hear the snappy dancehall rhythms of M.I.A and the post-Graceland conga-rock of Vampire Weekend; the manic beatboxing of Brooklynite Reggie Watts and the souped-up speed metal of Metallica.
My Bonnaroo experience has faded into a distant memory of midnight drug-fueled nipplegazing and shifty-eyed penguins. After blankly ingesting a doobie laced with embalming fluid at Bonnaroo 2006, I blindly stumbled into a VIP Backstage area, where I proceeded to ruffle through unguarded watercoolers. After knocking over a couple of Dansini tubs, I lurched down a vacant camp lot (everyone was grooving to Radiohead at the time) before slumping over in a bed of weeds. At this point, I tripped balls to distorted Tim Burton-ifed versions of the Happy Feet cast.
I lasted ten hours.
There really isn't a point to this story.
Thursday, May 29, 2008
Tim Fite: SXSW
Why? Because I automatically like any song that features the phrase: "Wipe that mustard off your titty."
June 5 Boston - Great Scott
June 6 Montreal - Studio JPR
June 7 Toronto - Horseshoe Tavern
June 9 Detroit - Magic Stick
June 10 Chicago - Lake Shore Theatre
Saturday, March 15, 2008
Thursday, February 14, 2008
The Hills Are Alive with the sound of suck
Heidi Montag told Us that she cried herself to sleep after YouTubers suffered emotional spasms and mild dementia while watching her grade-Z ripoff of Madonna's "Cherish" video.
My favorite part of the song? The high-hattin' cheapcore Casio keyboard with the Three 6 Mafia elevator-crunk riffs. Ms. Montag ripped me a new asshole.
But don't be too hard, guys. After all, she's "just a girl from Kansas...following her dreams."
Saturday, February 09, 2008
Deconstructing Grammy
The Grammys at 50 are showing their age," crows the latest headline from Newsday. Have the Grammys ever showed anything but? It takes years for them to even deign career artists buzzworthy enough for the Best New Artist trophy. (The most glaring example? Alt country siren Shelby Lynne taking home Best New Artist prize 13 years into her career.)
Yes, the National Academy of Recording Arts and Sciences is about as hip as sitting through an Al Gore earth documentary on Current.
For a better gauge of 2007, bless sweet Robert Christgau's still-kicking "Pazz and Jop" poll. The Pazz and Jop poll is decided by a slag of chain-smoking copy monkeys at alternative weeklies and magazine biggies across the states. Published by Christgau's former employer, The Village Voice, the Pazz and Jop poll is the music journo's version of the anti-Grammys.
Prize perennials such as The National's Boxer and Panda Bear's Person Pitch will never be totally at home in the National Recording Academy of Arts and Sciences' annual commercial unit penis measuring contest. Hmpfh.
But 2007 was the year of indie crossover, and the Grammys reflect this nugget. Sort of.
Leslie Feist's Technicolor iPod commercial with her song, "1234" was damn near inescapable. It was an indie-rock mini-musical filled with cascading horns and colorful getups too saucy for The Polyphonic Spree. In fact, right now, a waifish hipster in Williamsburg is blasting Feist's wispy voice through his earbuds on his way to American Apparel. I kid you not.
But Feist represents a middle ground for Grammy voters. Nominated for four Grammys for her modern classic, The Reminder, Feist has almost wriggled the cusp of the soccer mom votes. She's still hip, but she hasn't reached complete Starbucks overkill yet. But give her time. (She won the Shortlist Music Prize this week, an award for artistic achievement by artists who sell less than 500,000 copies.)
The biggest snub? Radiohead's screw you to Hillary Rosen, In Rainbows, was decidedly left off Grammys' radar. That's a shame. Not only did "In Rainbows" stir the dander of industry gatekeepers, it represented Radiohead's most solid work in more than a decade.
While OK! Magazine fixture Amy Winehouse racked up nods for her mind-numbingly good R&B revival, Back to Black, her sterling producer Mark Ronson was only represented in the Producer category. But Ronson would rather have a BRIT award on his trophy rack. "I think the Grammys are a bit like the international industry standard for achievement," Ronson told reporters. "But there is something about the BRITs. There is more of a camaraderie - it's like people are saying this artist is one of our own. It is very special."
Ronson's genre-spanning Version was its own tour-de-force, and it's unlikely that he will perform a medley a la The MTV Video Music Awards. But as the Grammys cross over into Matlock-watching territory and earlybird specials in Ormond Beach, will the award show be able to give the music fans what they want? It's a question on everyone's mind.
"People don't need to see more Beyoncé. Everyone is done with Beyoncé. Sirius Radio's Rich McLaughlin told Newsday. "Been there, done that. People want to see someone newer."
Yes, the National Academy of Recording Arts and Sciences is about as hip as sitting through an Al Gore earth documentary on Current.
For a better gauge of 2007, bless sweet Robert Christgau's still-kicking "Pazz and Jop" poll. The Pazz and Jop poll is decided by a slag of chain-smoking copy monkeys at alternative weeklies and magazine biggies across the states. Published by Christgau's former employer, The Village Voice, the Pazz and Jop poll is the music journo's version of the anti-Grammys.
Prize perennials such as The National's Boxer and Panda Bear's Person Pitch will never be totally at home in the National Recording Academy of Arts and Sciences' annual commercial unit penis measuring contest. Hmpfh.
But 2007 was the year of indie crossover, and the Grammys reflect this nugget. Sort of.
Leslie Feist's Technicolor iPod commercial with her song, "1234" was damn near inescapable. It was an indie-rock mini-musical filled with cascading horns and colorful getups too saucy for The Polyphonic Spree. In fact, right now, a waifish hipster in Williamsburg is blasting Feist's wispy voice through his earbuds on his way to American Apparel. I kid you not.
But Feist represents a middle ground for Grammy voters. Nominated for four Grammys for her modern classic, The Reminder, Feist has almost wriggled the cusp of the soccer mom votes. She's still hip, but she hasn't reached complete Starbucks overkill yet. But give her time. (She won the Shortlist Music Prize this week, an award for artistic achievement by artists who sell less than 500,000 copies.)
The biggest snub? Radiohead's screw you to Hillary Rosen, In Rainbows, was decidedly left off Grammys' radar. That's a shame. Not only did "In Rainbows" stir the dander of industry gatekeepers, it represented Radiohead's most solid work in more than a decade.
While OK! Magazine fixture Amy Winehouse racked up nods for her mind-numbingly good R&B revival, Back to Black, her sterling producer Mark Ronson was only represented in the Producer category. But Ronson would rather have a BRIT award on his trophy rack. "I think the Grammys are a bit like the international industry standard for achievement," Ronson told reporters. "But there is something about the BRITs. There is more of a camaraderie - it's like people are saying this artist is one of our own. It is very special."
Ronson's genre-spanning Version was its own tour-de-force, and it's unlikely that he will perform a medley a la The MTV Video Music Awards. But as the Grammys cross over into Matlock-watching territory and earlybird specials in Ormond Beach, will the award show be able to give the music fans what they want? It's a question on everyone's mind.
"People don't need to see more Beyoncé. Everyone is done with Beyoncé. Sirius Radio's Rich McLaughlin told Newsday. "Been there, done that. People want to see someone newer."
Saturday, January 26, 2008
Random Thoughts
Dear Kimya Dawson,
I'd never thought I would say this. However, if I have to hear your damned cutesy-wutesy "Juno" song one more time, I might just shoot myself in the face.
New and noted
The Magnetic Fields
Distortion
The Skinny: Indie-pop misanthrope Stephin Merritt of The Magnetic Fields, deemed by Bob Gould as the "most depressing man in rock," studies his The Jesus and Mary Chain fixation with heaps of prickly distortion, er, as advertised in the album title.
Why You Should Buy It: Merritt exists in his own vacuum-sealed idiom. He told The New York Times, "I cannot name a record by anyone in 2007." As for his rapturous scrutiny of influential Scottish noise-pop band The Jesus and Mary Chain's 1985 debut album Psychocandy? "It's the last album that sounded shockingly new, to me anyway."
Song You'll Love or Hate: The gnashingly frontal lobe assault of album opener, "Three-Way," which basically consists of Mr. Merritt shouting the title over rippling riffs.
Kate Nash
Made of Bricks
The Skinny: Discovered on MySpace by Lily Allen, 20-something Englander Kate Nash makes an album about the struggles of upper-class strife. She sounds like a brainier version of The Spice Girls, for better or worse.
Why You Should Buy It: Nash's cockney Brit accent, flowing pen verses and sly pop cultural shout-outs - hell, she manages to namecheck CSI at one point - are 10 times better than the CHR-pop Hannah Montana dreck infiltrating American top-40. Plus, let's just say that it might be awhile before Amy Winehouse releases another Back to Black.
Song You'll Love or Hate: Produced by Bloc Party producer Paul Epworth, Nash finds lyrical inspiration in the mundane. Her song about mouthwash, titled "Mouthwash," of course, is an exercise in lyrical frugality. The hummable melody will stay in your head for days.
Distortion
The Skinny: Indie-pop misanthrope Stephin Merritt of The Magnetic Fields, deemed by Bob Gould as the "most depressing man in rock," studies his The Jesus and Mary Chain fixation with heaps of prickly distortion, er, as advertised in the album title.
Why You Should Buy It: Merritt exists in his own vacuum-sealed idiom. He told The New York Times, "I cannot name a record by anyone in 2007." As for his rapturous scrutiny of influential Scottish noise-pop band The Jesus and Mary Chain's 1985 debut album Psychocandy? "It's the last album that sounded shockingly new, to me anyway."
Song You'll Love or Hate: The gnashingly frontal lobe assault of album opener, "Three-Way," which basically consists of Mr. Merritt shouting the title over rippling riffs.
Kate Nash
Made of Bricks
The Skinny: Discovered on MySpace by Lily Allen, 20-something Englander Kate Nash makes an album about the struggles of upper-class strife. She sounds like a brainier version of The Spice Girls, for better or worse.
Why You Should Buy It: Nash's cockney Brit accent, flowing pen verses and sly pop cultural shout-outs - hell, she manages to namecheck CSI at one point - are 10 times better than the CHR-pop Hannah Montana dreck infiltrating American top-40. Plus, let's just say that it might be awhile before Amy Winehouse releases another Back to Black.
Song You'll Love or Hate: Produced by Bloc Party producer Paul Epworth, Nash finds lyrical inspiration in the mundane. Her song about mouthwash, titled "Mouthwash," of course, is an exercise in lyrical frugality. The hummable melody will stay in your head for days.
Monday, January 07, 2008
Saturday, December 22, 2007
Best YouTube Music Moments in 2007
YouTube killed the video star.
In 2007, while MTV plugged the umpteenth episode of "Parental Control" and the so-real-it's-fake tragicomedy,"The Hills," video sharing website YouTube raked in record numbers.
According to a Harris Interactive poll, 65 percent of American adults say they have watched a video on YouTube with 42 percent of the surveyed adults making regular treks to the site.
Major labels such as Warner Music inked a library-spanning content deal with YouTube this year, promising the site vids from the Warner vault. But the site's main selling point remained the guitar-strumming everyman and everywoman. These bleary-eyed rubes uploaded teary bedroom confessionals to an ever-growing legion of tubers.
In the spirit of giving, Manhattan Project has decided to dole out a few year-end awards to the best music moments on YouTube.
Best Deceptive Advertising By A Major Label
Hollywood Records' Marie Digby
Marie Digby's harmonically straightforward and cocksure cover of Rihanna's No. 1 hit, "Umbrella" raised a few eyebrows. It's raised almost 4 million eyebrows since its summer debut to be exact.
Framed in a lily-white bedroom, Digby plucks chords with a husker's ease. She's the girl next door, if your life resembled a Hollister advertisement. Call Digby "the Lonelygirl 15 of acoustic-pop."
In September, the Wall Street Journal suggested that Digby was a ploy in Hollywood Records' "astroturfing" campaign to deliver the singer to bigger masses through YouTube. In a blog entry, meanwhile, Digby wrote that the YouTube uploads were a response to a "desperate" lack of promotion from Hollywood Records.
Best Use Of Hand Flatulence
Gerry Phillips' cover of "Bohemian Rhapsody"
The manualism movement is worthy of a cover story in The Believer. Flanked by his hambones, internet "musician" Gerry Phillips was the unlikely YouTube celebrity of 2007 with his moist rendition of Queen classic, "Bohemian Rhapsody." In his fuzzy dark-blue sweat shirt and Hank Hill glasses, Phillips let it rip with a flawlessly spot-on take. In August, Jimmy Kimmel Live featured Phillips on the Internet Talent Showcase segment. Sadly, Hollywood Records wasn't behind this one.
Best Unintentionally Shameless Christmas Parody
The Kings College staff's Band Aid tribute
The Kings College staffers didn't intend to become YouTube sensations in 2007, per se. Their cynical take on the Bob Geldof's altruistic bombast anthem, "Do They Know It's Christmas" complete with mimicry of Bono's hubris, was like finding pixie sticks in our stockings come Christmas morning. It was completely unexpected and offered a satisfying jolt of energy.
Best Unintentionally Funny Performance
Fergie's appearance at Movie Rocks
Ya know ya did. If you've seen the Dutchess' nearly insufferable interpretation of Wings' "Live and Let Die" at Movie Rocks on YouTube, you're not alone. About 20,000 YouTubers watched the wretched four-minute clip, with Fergie's voice sounding like a cat suffering from a seizure. The song itself lurks from amped-up Slash guitar licks to drunken karaoke lounge singer ballads in the course of one measure. Fergie lags the background track, tossing off a thickly coated "Ya know ya did" a few seconds after the phrase is uttered by her backing vocalists. But all is forgiven in the name of the pyrotechnic gods who spray wisps of sparks to the irregular beat.
In 2007, while MTV plugged the umpteenth episode of "Parental Control" and the so-real-it's-fake tragicomedy,"The Hills," video sharing website YouTube raked in record numbers.
According to a Harris Interactive poll, 65 percent of American adults say they have watched a video on YouTube with 42 percent of the surveyed adults making regular treks to the site.
Major labels such as Warner Music inked a library-spanning content deal with YouTube this year, promising the site vids from the Warner vault. But the site's main selling point remained the guitar-strumming everyman and everywoman. These bleary-eyed rubes uploaded teary bedroom confessionals to an ever-growing legion of tubers.
In the spirit of giving, Manhattan Project has decided to dole out a few year-end awards to the best music moments on YouTube.
Best Deceptive Advertising By A Major Label
Hollywood Records' Marie Digby
Marie Digby's harmonically straightforward and cocksure cover of Rihanna's No. 1 hit, "Umbrella" raised a few eyebrows. It's raised almost 4 million eyebrows since its summer debut to be exact.
Framed in a lily-white bedroom, Digby plucks chords with a husker's ease. She's the girl next door, if your life resembled a Hollister advertisement. Call Digby "the Lonelygirl 15 of acoustic-pop."
In September, the Wall Street Journal suggested that Digby was a ploy in Hollywood Records' "astroturfing" campaign to deliver the singer to bigger masses through YouTube. In a blog entry, meanwhile, Digby wrote that the YouTube uploads were a response to a "desperate" lack of promotion from Hollywood Records.
Best Use Of Hand Flatulence
Gerry Phillips' cover of "Bohemian Rhapsody"
The manualism movement is worthy of a cover story in The Believer. Flanked by his hambones, internet "musician" Gerry Phillips was the unlikely YouTube celebrity of 2007 with his moist rendition of Queen classic, "Bohemian Rhapsody." In his fuzzy dark-blue sweat shirt and Hank Hill glasses, Phillips let it rip with a flawlessly spot-on take. In August, Jimmy Kimmel Live featured Phillips on the Internet Talent Showcase segment. Sadly, Hollywood Records wasn't behind this one.
Best Unintentionally Shameless Christmas Parody
The Kings College staff's Band Aid tribute
The Kings College staffers didn't intend to become YouTube sensations in 2007, per se. Their cynical take on the Bob Geldof's altruistic bombast anthem, "Do They Know It's Christmas" complete with mimicry of Bono's hubris, was like finding pixie sticks in our stockings come Christmas morning. It was completely unexpected and offered a satisfying jolt of energy.
Best Unintentionally Funny Performance
Fergie's appearance at Movie Rocks
Ya know ya did. If you've seen the Dutchess' nearly insufferable interpretation of Wings' "Live and Let Die" at Movie Rocks on YouTube, you're not alone. About 20,000 YouTubers watched the wretched four-minute clip, with Fergie's voice sounding like a cat suffering from a seizure. The song itself lurks from amped-up Slash guitar licks to drunken karaoke lounge singer ballads in the course of one measure. Fergie lags the background track, tossing off a thickly coated "Ya know ya did" a few seconds after the phrase is uttered by her backing vocalists. But all is forgiven in the name of the pyrotechnic gods who spray wisps of sparks to the irregular beat.
Sunday, October 28, 2007
Sugar in their coffin
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On Oct. 22,Lower East Side club Mo' Pitkins closed its neon blue spotlighted doors.
The popular celeb cabaret hangout, which sported the likes of Cyndi Lauper, Moby and Nina Hartley, had fallen on some hard times.
The New York Post reported last September that Walker & Malloy hocked the building and its contents for a cool $5.5 mil.
It's a shame, too. The forlorn waitstaff who shoot haggard looks as if you're asking to sneak slaves through an underground railroad in lieu of simple chocolate martini, notwithstanding, Mo' Pitkins was one of the last great cabaret spots in the city.
It's the place where you can see unkillable downtown drag king Murray Hill's ultra campy variety show as well as upstart female comics in 'Chicks and Giggles.'
On one of the last CMJ Music Marathon performances at Mo' Pitkins, yodeling cowpoke Curtis Eller bawled through a banjo-picking litany of Civil War tunes, subtly poking the dead comparison horse as he asked "where's Lee Harvey Oswald when you need him?" with a brainy NPR-resolve. It's punk rock meets the Blue Mountain Ridge.
Check out more of Mr. Eller's music here.
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