My apologies to anyone who’s been waiting with bated breath for me to wrap up this series – is there any such person out there? I left off in early August, with my review of songs that failed to wriggle their way past Mariah Carey and/or Boyz II Men to reach the top of Billboard’s Hot 100 during the ’90s. Since then I’ve faced the same trepidation I had last year while surveying the Worst Number One Songs of the ’00s – namely, the fact that I feel less than eminently qualified to pass judgment on the Auto-Tune Era. Finally, though, as Woody Harrelson puts it so eloquently in Zombieland, I decided it was time to “nut up or shut up,” so here we are.
Fortunately, I’ve got the artist kicking off our countdown to push me forward, and remind me why I took up this six-part (so far) endeavor in the first place. As always, I’ll conclude with a list of some other #2s from the decade.
11. “Work It,” Missy “Misdemeanor” Elliott. I don’t particularly care for this track, but there are a couple reasons why it’s a perfect launching pad for this column. For one, it represents a key step in the evolution of hip-hop toward raunchy themes and racy lyrics. Because Missy was as nasty as the boyz of her era, she absolved the trend of any misogynist stigma, and it was a quick step from “Work It” to the strip-club hip-hop soul that’s become so prevalent lately. Not that there’s anything wrong with that, necessarily … though when even Jordin Sparks is singing about “the club,” maybe the moment is over, huh? Anyway, the other key accomplishment of “Work It” was its 10-week stay at #2 — tied with Foreigner’s “Waiting for a Girl Like You” (which we celebrated here) for the longest runner-up run in chart history. And here’s where we’ve gotta give Missy her props, because she’s got the stones to admit that only reaching #2 with her biggest hit kinda sucked. “I just wanted to die those ten weeks,” she said of being blocked by Eminem’s smash “Lose Yourself” through the winter of ’03. “I mean, it wasn’t cool.” (more…)
Yeah, I’m rather shocked myself, but it seems like Herr Fuhrer is YouTube’s latest viral go-to guy. The new black is “reich,” as it were.
If you have no clue, or you’re still digesting the last of Tay Zonday mania (remember him?), then you’ve been away from the Web for a long time. On the sliding scale of the Internet time-space continuum, a long time is equal to the distance between last Wednesday and the Wednesday previous to that multiplied by the rate of your Twitter tweeting frequency, wOOt, and ROFLMFAO, and cubed at the rate of EPIC FAIL.
The specific scene used in these YouTube videos comes from a 2004 German film called Der Untergang, or Downfall, as it’s known in English-speaking countries. Hitler is portrayed by Bruno Ganz in a bit of foam-frothing scenery munching, and in the specifically co-opted scene, he’s being debriefed by his staff. Much to his chagrin, bad news has been delivered. He summons all but his inner circle to leave the war room and, upon their exit, goes absolutely apeshit.
I attempted to find a word that’s more becoming of a respected writer. Something less crude. Something with more imagination and depth. But it can’t be done. Hitler goes apeshit, and that’s all there is to it. And therein lies the fun — I couldn’t find a better word, but because everyone in the film is speaking German, anyone with a video graphics program can find their own words, plop them on-screen as subtitles, and make Adolf into whatever they please.
According to Lev, Uncle Donnie served in some capacity in the Def Leppard camp during the recording sessions for Adrenalize, and wound up going out with them on one of the U.S. legs of their ‘92Â tour. Became quite close with the band, apparently, though for unknown reasons was never asked back after that leg. This memo, however, reveals they still hold a place in his heart. -RS
TO: Def Leppard
FROM: Don Skwatzenschitz
RE: Career Advice
First of all, yes—I wanna get rocked. Ha! Remember that, back in ‘92? Man, those were good times. I mean, not great times—Clarky was dead, and everyone felt bad, but didn’t we have a good time hazing poor Vivian? I’ve never had a better time on tour with a rock and roll band. Thanks for including me, and for putting up with Mitzi lifting up her shirt in the front row for 64 shows. It couldn’t have been easy for you, particularly Joe, who would invariably be trying to sing to a babe on one side of Mitz or the other.
Anyway, since we go back a ways, I feel compelled to talk with you about a serious issue, namely, your recording career. It needs to stop. Now. The last two albums prove it, if the previous two or three didn’t. A covers record is typically a sign of desperation, and Yeah!was no exception. Face it, people would rather hear All American Rejects do your songs, or Taylor Swift, or some anonymous kid, or even you, 20 years ago, than to hear you do T. Rex or Bowie covers. Not to mention David-effin’-Essex. “Rock On?” Ain’t no rock to be found there, buddies. (more…)
When things are said off the record in the world of politics, they should stay off the record. Unless I need something to write about, of course.
Last week I brought you an exclusive report on the scripted outbursts Rep. Joe Wilson almost said in place of “You lie!” when responding to President Obama’s position on illegal immigrants receiving universal health care. I obtained the list of outbursts from a congressional aide named Mark Cloth, who asked not to be identified, but I’m not a real journalist with “ethics” or “common decency” — either slip me a Benjamin or suffer the consequences.
I went ahead and used Cloth’s name, but it turns out he was using an alias inspired by Deep Throat, from All the President’s Men. He duped me, but I’m not mad. The way I see it, we both got what we wanted, and neither of us had to look at the other one naked.
Yeah, right. The tape was already rolling, and Terry Moran, co-anchor of ABC’s Nightline, apparently overheard the pre-interview conversation, because he soon jumped on his Twitter account and wrote, “Pres. Obama just called Kanye West a ‘jackass’ for his outburst at VMAs when Taylor Swift won. Now THAT’S presidential.” And that’s unprofessional, Moron — unless you somehow got a Benjamin out of it, that is. (I wonder if he had to look at Vice President Biden naked.)
Let me get this out in the open: I work in a dangerous place. No, I don’t work with nuclear materials, nor do I work at a restaurant where I train as a competitive eater on the side. Rather, I work in a place where earworm attacks happen, and, as of late, are happening more frequently. You see, I work at an Adult Contemporary radio station where some of the songs have an effect that I can’t seem to shake. Yes, some songs get trapped in my head and the lyrics, melody, and various hooks weave themselves into my cerebral cortex like those creatures did to Chekov and Captain Terrell in Star Trek II. Or as Khan so eloquently said about the worms of Ceti Alpha Five (but could easily been talking about the songs featured here): “You see, their young enter through the ears and wrap themselves around the cerebral cortex. This has the effect of rendering the victim extremely susceptible to suggestion. Later, as they grow, follows madness — and death.”
Oh, little earworm, how you have tortured me! And now, dear readers, I pass along the love. (more…)
You wouldn’t know it by reading the following, but Uncle Donnie is afraid of British people. Thought the Beatles were going to bring about a counter-Revolutionary War, in which England would attempt to take back the original 13 colonies, by force, if necessary, using the Fab Four as a distraction. He distrusts anything with a Union Jack on it, including the Def Leppard drummer’s shorts back in the early 80s. That said, for some reason, he digs Radiohead. Calls Tom Yorke’s voice “soothing.” In typical Skwatzenschitzian fashion, he’s got some advice for the band. —RS
TO: Radiohead
FROM: Don Skwatzenschitz
RE: Career advice
You guys went right to my (radio)head (ha-ha) years ago. I saw you open for REM back in ‘95 or so, and you were fantastic. I didn’t know a single damn song (you wouldn’t play “Creep,” regardless of how many times my row shouted for it), and I was blown away. You’ve had your ups and downs—to be honest, I’ve lost track of you these last couple years, since Amnesiac. What has happened to you? What have you done? You were on the cusp of something big—BIG, I tell you—and now … I think Blur might be bigger than you guys, and they’re not even a band anymore.
I can help you out, if you let me. Believe in Skwatzenschitz. I’ll make you stars once again. Here’s what you have to do:
Get into food.Pablo Honey barbecue wings. Knives Out frozen meals. Unborn Chicken Voice chicken tenders. This country loves nothing more than a heaping helping of junk food. Put your name on something breaded and microwaveable, and by God, you will be a household name. Kids will order you at Applebees. What more could a band ask for?
Smile in your publicity photos. Tom, nobody likes a sourpuss. You look like a … well, a creep in your publicity glossies. You never crack a smile; none of you do. And what the hell are you doing with that eye? Lighten up, boys. Need an example? Just a little sample? Look at the Osmonds, back in the 70s. Smiled in every fucking picture. Biggest band in Utah. I kid you not—cheerful works!
Go country. Duetting with someone hot in country can get you all kinds of sales at Wal-Mart, you know? Heartland honeys like Carrie Underwood or Taylor Swift, or even that chick from Sugarland, the one who did that song with Bon Jovi. While we’re at it, guys, do you think you have a Lost Highway-type album in you? Because if you do, my God, CMT will be all over you.
Charge double for your music. This is a crazy idea I had recently, but hear me out. Why do people spend 50 grand for a Cadillac, when a Civic will do? Because of the prestige of owning something special, something precious. Too many bands just give away their music these days. You should charge double—$39.96 list price for the next Radiohead album. And don’t sell it on the Web, or in Wal-Mart. Make it available only at specialty stores—really out-of-the-way places, so people have to find it. It’ll seem more exclusive. You won’t sell as many copies, but the ones you do sell will put a nice extra chunk o’ green (or whatever color you Brits’ currency is) in your pockets.
Fake your death. “Radiohead Dies in Bizarre Plane Crash—Wreck Never Found.” Great headline, huh? People will buy your entire catalog again, just to have something more to remember you by. Meanwhile, you guys are up in jolly olde Britain, noshing on Cornish pasties, listening to your Can albums, raking in the quid hand over pale, skeletal fist. How alternative would that be?
Ah, the fourth quarter. It isn’t as much of an event as it used to be, but even as the music industry crumbles to dust before our very eyes, artists and labels continue to focus on the last few months of the year for the biggest glut of high-profile releases on the calendar, and 2008 is no exception.
Rather than punishing your eyes with a comprehensive fall music preview, or soliciting input from everyone on the staff, I decided to put together a list of the titles I’m either looking forward to (Lindsey Buckingham, Brian Wilson), need to hear to satisfy some dark, unexplained urge (Gym Class Heroes, Queen), or simply find interesting for some reason (Todd Rundgren, AC/DC). If you’ve been waiting for someone to tell you how to spend the “music” portion of your discretionary income for the next few months, look no further — without further ado, here’s my list of 21 fall releases to watch for.
In which one of country’s most freewheeling (read: consistently interesting) songwriters hooks up with Yep Roc for a song cycle that, if the press kit is to be trusted, is “about women.” You can be certain the songs do more than just live up to that simple billing, especially with titles like “The Rise and Fall of Intelligent Design” — and as an added bonus, our pal Joe Henry was behind the boards (and does a duet with Crowell on one track, “I’ve Done All That I Can”). What, you don’t like country? Yeah, me neither. But I’m buying this. (more…)
Howdy, pardners! It’s been a couple of weeks since we moseyed down Billboard way, so what do you say we hop along down to the Hot Country Top 10 and see what’s cooking in Nashville?
1. James Otto, “Just Got Started Lovin’ You” (Warner Bros./Raybaw)
It’s hokey as hell, and James Otto looks uncomfortably like a young Ron Perlman, but I don’t hate “Just Got Started Lovin’ You.” On the other hand, I do think it’s sort of telling that the best thing about the song is the model Otto’s fooling around with in the video. (more…)
My apologies to anyone who’s been waiting with bated breath for me to wrap up this series – is there any such person out there? I left off in early August, with my review of songs that failed to wriggle their way past Mariah Carey and/or Boyz II Men to reach the top of Billboard’s Hot 100 during the ’90s. Since then I’ve faced the same trepidation I had last year while surveying the Worst Number One Songs of the ’00s – namely, the fact that I feel less than eminently qualified to pass judgment on the Auto-Tune Era. Finally, though, as Woody Harrelson puts it so eloquently in Zombieland, I decided it was time to “nut up or shut up,” so here we are.
According to Lev, Uncle Donnie served in some capacity in the Def Leppard camp during the recording sessions for 
I went ahead and used Cloth’s name, but it turns out he was using an alias inspired by Deep Throat, from All the President’s Men. He duped me, but I’m not mad. The way I see it, we both got what we wanted, and neither of us had to look at the other one naked.
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