I Don’t Like Work That Much, I Don’t Like Tony Touch…
I love love Penn & Teller’s Showtime program, “Bullsh!t” For anyone that is remotely skeptical about the world we live in, and the world that we are so eager to know and understand (i.e. death and the afterlife, even bottled water’s sources) this show is a must see. If you have Showtime on Demand, its worth the monthly price of digital cable alone. I know that people who are convinced they have had a “near-death experience” cannot be swayed by the science of the situation, that the brain, in fact, will perceive any and all instances of blood deprivation, be it through injury/trauma or being stuck on a roller coaster, as extra sensory stimuli, and, thus, not from the body itself. It can be proven to be just that, a bodily sensation, manifested by the body’s nerve center during a lack of stasis, or normalcy.
Wanna see the “warm white light” that so many talk about when discussing death? Spin in a f*cking circle for an hour. Seriously, it will do the same thing. What a way to kick off this week’s column, eh?
Step Into the Party, Disrupt the Whole Scene
—The White Stripes, that plucky two-some in red garbed goodness, have announced the title of their follow-up album to their critically successful album, Elephant. The album, due out on June 7th, will be titled, Get Behind Me Satan, and will most likely be completely frickin’ awesome. If it’s not, don’t buy it, as my opinion is a bit off sometimes (I love the Super Furry Animals!)
According to a statement by the publicist for the Stripes, the album will delve into issues of “character and ideals of truth.” No word yet on what the hell that means, but if you live in Mexico, that is where their World Tour will begin on May 11th.
Get Behind Me Satan tracklisting:
1. Blue Orchid
2. The Nurse
3. My Doorbell
4. Forever For Her (Is Over For Me)
5. Little Ghost
6. The Denial Twist
7. White Moon
8. Instinct Blues
9. Passive Manipulation
10. Take, Take, Take
11. As Ugly As I Seem
12. Red Rain
13. I’m Lonely (But I Ain’t That Lonely Yet)
—It’s Official. Britney Spears is Preggers. And here I was thinking that the piece of trash swallowed. Where the hell is the Trojan Man when you need him? Bet you all $1000 that Kevin told her he had gotten a vasectomy after his first two kids with actress Shar Jackson.
Third time’s a charm, right Mr. Spears? Losers.
—Anyone who watches American Idol and votes for Constantine should be punched in the eye. Preferably whichever one that person considers the “good” one. This guy is awkward like a boner at a funeral. Send him home, America, for one big mistake in this contest is one too many.
—Very few albums get “looped” here in “Ssquared-Ville” as much as Solomon Burke’s 2002 album Don’t Give Up on Me. This rock pioneer, who has never truly received the credit he deserves for the influence he had on music as we know it, has released a new album, Make Do With What You Got.
Just when things get sucky in the world of music, the “true” Godfather of R&B comes back to give me something to smile about.
—I am not the news guy. I write about stuff I like; stuff I find funny. But, I am not going to lie. This is the greatest thing I have ever heard. If you thought 50 Cent slurred his speech, you haven’t heard shit yet.
Maybe you could even buy the album, as at least we know “Slo Mo” could use the money. Probably for medication.
Honestly, I am just pissed that I didn’t think of it first.
—This next link is “COMPLETELY NOT SAFE FOR WORK!”
I know a lot about hip-hop, and I think this kid has flow. If that link doesn’t bring up the file, try this one. Too bad I haven’t got a record label. I could see this kid spitting rhymes with Mike Eagle. Fo’ sho’. The kid even paraphrases Smackdown Champion, John Cena. That’s hardcore, and I know hardcore. I am from Upstate, bitches!
One more thing. Mathan thinks of these fools?
Trying To Frost My Shirt Up So You Can See My Fat Nipples?
So, last week’s picture of my boy Salty was such a hit, I have a new pic for you all.
Granted, Salty doesn’t have fat nipples, so I am sure that header was misleading, but I had to slip this pic in the column. I love it too much, and it just goes to show you what kind of stupid shit I can convince my friends to do when I am in the BEST MOOD EVER
Now that’s too much metal for one hand. Right, Tom?
Props to D’Errico for pimping my fave Biohazard album, Urban Discipline. That album got me through sophomore year of high school without beating the hell out of someone, so seeing his praise of that album made my day. Salty’s too, as he has Biohazard ink on his arm. D’Errico’s is on his neck. Tom wins.
There BOTH gonna kill me…
Anyway, diddle away ladies and gents…diddle away.
I’m Not Mad That You’re A Cartoon Character and You’re Gay For Me
Last week, I met up with Fingers in Manhattan, and he promptly handed over the new Doves’ disk, “Some Cities.” I have listened to it at least 4 times now, end-to-end, but I am having a hard time figuring out just what it is that I think of this album. Is it that disappointing? If you were expecting this album to cure cancer, than yes. Hell, even if you thought that this album was going to be as great as their previous work, its still a bit of a let down.
You know what I am beginning to notice? I have been permanently ruined for future bands by the true greatest musician of my generation: Jeff Buckley. Every new album that comes out, that is what I find myself comparing it to. Not The Bends or Okay Computer, I compare every disk I hear to Grace.
This isn’t necessarily a bad thing, if you don’t mind every single thing that you listen to falling disgusting short of an acceptable mark. It’s not bad if you enjoy listening to music that your ears and heart tells you is crap. Don’t get me wrong, the Some Cities is good, really good, in fact, it’s just that it doesn’t compare.
Does it need to, though? Honestly, someone has to know if its okay for me to like stuff that I know isn’t all that palpable? I drink beer, and I remember how I thought that tasted the first time I had one, so the album can get better with time, right?
God, I hope so. I really do.
The Doves are good. They could be great.
They just aren’t Jeff Buckley.
No one is. See, just like over-rated “rock god” Kurt Cobain, Jeff’s life was cut far too short, albeit in a freak swimming accident while working on his sophomore release. Unlike Kurt, he hadn’t even begun to show the full extent of his potential. Cobain had nothing left in the tank after Nevermind and when music “know-it-all’s” proclaim that album a “seminal” release, or a “peek into the heart and soul of a generation,” I want to f*cking scream. He couldn’t play guitar well. He couldn’t craft a melody like Jeff, yet here we are, 10 years from the release of Nevermind, pretending that Cobain’s work influenced EVERY musician since then. He may have, but do any of the artists in this generation have “staying power?” No one who calls Kurt Cobain an influence is making revolutionary music. They are making simple “three chord rock,” just like Weezer, only tuned down to D.
I know that I am an opinionated guy, but am I wrong to question the media and how they glorified Kurt Cobain’s “legacy” after his suicide, playing him up as a “tortured artist,” “a voice for MY generation?” Why did they never seem to care about Jeff? It’s unfortunate, as with every listen of Buckley’s 1994 release, I know that we truly lost a great one 10 years ago.
His name wasn’t Cobain.
Just a thought.
Rolling With The Homies
Gloomchen writes her opus. If she finds a way to top this column, I am moving to Iowa and becoming her cabana boy. Single-handedly her best work ever, and that’s saying a lot.
Fernandez has “Thunder Kiss ’65” on his iPod. I *officially* have a new hero. To top it all off, he has a pic of Lil Jon next to a can of Fancy Feast. That’s funny stuff.
Michael Chadwick is handling reviews now. Here’s British Sea Power and the Bravery. Both are must reads for anyone looking to score some new music. Chadwick may live on the other side o’ the Atlantic, but he’s “spot on.” That’s funny, innit?
Alright, folks. I have a life to live, and I think I am gonna start…NOW.
‘Til next week, keep it real
Ssquared
