Michael Jackson, who was rushed to the hospital today in cardiac arrest, was confirmed dead. He was 50-years-old. And let’s not overlook, one of the Charlie’s Angel’s and 70s icon, Farrah Fawcett lost her battle with cancer earlier today at the young age of 62.
Remember your worst nightmare? The one involving you being discarded like yesterday’s trash and easily replaced? The one where you woke and realized that thankfully you weren’t dispensible or at the very least, it was all just a dream, but secretly questioning and doubting your abilities and cringing at your assessment of you self-worth?
Maybe these neurotic tendencies only creep up on me. It’s possible. As I was watching VH1 today, however, and seeing this new 20-year-old chanteuse from North London being hailed as the “new Amy Winehouse,” I had to sneak a listen to her. I also had to ask myself that why in an industry as vast as music, do we need to go around and recycle the same names. Winehouse was able to breathe new life into soul music and put it back on the map. She should be credited as such, in spite of all her drug-laden shenanigans. The girl’s got raw talent. Her predecessors are simply jumping on the over-crowded bandwagon.
And while the singer known as Adele (having your last name dropped from a label eliminates all those ugly pesky ethnic associations) might be more of a promising gamble in the professionalism dept. and she shares some things in common with Amy -notably they graduated from the same performing arts school and share a producer, Mark Ronson, Adele is no Amy, “chasing pavements” and all.
But you be the judge and listen and compare below.
I’m a lover scorned. A meerkat whose mother has been viciously killed by a snake leaving me to make my way thru the wild without any well-trained defenses or line of attack. I’m Rambo without any ammo and Schwarzenegger without the Kennedy connections and steroids that made him.
I’m also fed up with the writers’ strike and feeling pangs of loss that can best be expressed thru the myriad of metaphors above.
And how it could potentially affect my January, no wait my FEBRUARY? That’s right, Lost fans will have to wait till February now to see just where things left off post-Looking Glass. Given that the show’s executive producer is claiming that only 8 shows have been written out of the regular 16, and that the final 8 will tie up all the loose ends presented in the first 8 (and that I happen to LIVE for resolutions), you can understand why the writers’ strike is getting me down.
I can do without Leno and his glib comments to Halle Berry, grimace at Tina Fey as she takes to the picketing stands (she is an executive producer after all) and bands with her fellow starving artists (?), but seeing writer/creator/executive producer Damon Lindelof lament the plight of writers (and himself) not getting their/his share of the moola generated by all the new media around makes me wanna lose the one I’m with and start a new relationship.
We understand fame and new-found fortune is enough to even make a decent man turn to debauchery. But really, how long do the producers at Lost think that they can play with their fanbase before their numbers of viewers start to diminish?
I’ve been owing readers here a recap of the Regina Spektor concert I attended last Sunday for roughly a week now, so here goes. In my defense, I turned the big 3-0 last week and was slightly preoccupied with birthday shenanigans. So now I’m back and ready to give Regina Spektor, experimental folk-acoustic, seductive songstress du jour (du semaine) a proper ode.
Headlining the Regina show was Only Son, aka iPod Man. His act was decent enough, but he went on for way too long and his shtick involved an iPod, which he used in lieu of a band. It got a little irksome after a while and as he came onstage drunk and saying a little too many “F*cks,” I quickly realized that a) I’m too old to find this MySpace-generated Mick Jagger/Bono wannabe remotely appealing and b) My generation (X) is WAY cooler than the 18-year-olds bopping along to the Yeah, like, that’s so f*cked man. Shit, ya know. Yeah, f*ck. Then again, maybe I’m being way too hard on our nation’s youth and even more frightening, maybe my generation sounded like that 12 years ago.
But then again, why were all these youngsters who I couldn’t envision really “getting” Regina’s brand of music, the overriding demographic present at her show?
Regina came out onstage 1.5 hours after the 7:30 starting time. While one can argue that the wait augments the level of anticipation, being stuck in the auditorium seating in Boston’s Orpheum Theater- whose seating was constructed and hasn’t been renovated since the early 20th Century when my height of 5′3 was the average height of a male, you can imagine the physical comfort level by the time the illustrious Ms. SpeKtor finally came onto stage.
Don’t get me wrong. Regina is a force to be reckoned with and well worth any wait. Coming onto stage, bright curly red hair, bright royal blue babydoll dress, with intermittent sprinklings of softspoken “thank you(s)” between belting out “Mary Anne is a B*tch” (it’s a song) and songs about people f*cking to her music, she carefully positions herself as the naughty nice girl. Others have gone down this road before in more gimmicky fashion, but Regina successfully avoids the common pitfalls of her peers and predecessors, salvaged by her musical range (high-pitched, discordant elongated shrieks a la Laurie Anderson to heavy, bluesy spirituals) and well, her, incredibly diverse RAW talent. (Norah Jones may also sing to the tune of the sweet songstress, but doesn’t manage the same sub-alt following, perhaps limited by range and level of experimentation. ) The difference being Regina owns her music, even when it’s not her music. Take her cover of John Lennon’s “Real Love” or her recent gig covering “Little Boxes” for the show Weeds. You can’t imagine (no pun intended) either song wasn’t written by her for her.
But back to the concert’s finale, Regina gave us our encores (”Samson”/”Fidelity” et al) and didn’t hold out on her audience, instead generously playing to the crowd, amidst delayed starts and iPod men that read more like boys. Oh, yeah. And really young kids yelling, That’s the f*ckin sh*t iPod Man!
Ok, so we’re all a little tired of the cult of the female pop-rock starlet on self-destruct (w/debris oozing out of their minute coke-clogged pores) but kudos go again this week to Amy Winehouse, who, rather than go the route of most of her predecessors and launch her own perfume line, had her road manager launch a line of whiskey as an homage to Winehouse.
The story goes something like this (some licenses taken with the paraphrasing): Amy gets crabby while on the road and is itching for a hit (either in the form of coke or her husband’s face). She calls her road manager into her van and says, “Yos, whaszup. Where’s me blow.” [insert Ali G-style curses and affectations] Whereupon her manager informs her not only is she out of the powder, but every form of alcohol known to man, woman, and superfreak. Amy, not happy, throws her empty bottle of JD at her manager. Fortunately, it hit the part of his head that’s responsible for extorting more money from his boss. He comes up with a brilliant idea: Market more witch brew, er, um in layman’s terms: Shut up the whiny, overly demanding diva.
To celebrate the launch of this new bourbon, Airborne, Amy was on hand to show her support. Namely do her trademark drunk man’s saunter on and off the stage, mutter profanities and aim some more whiskey bottles into the crowd, all in the name of self-promotion, not to mention brilliant marketing strategy, if I do say so myself…
Sarah Silverman will always be remembered as the comedian who aimed high, and went after the strong. The same way she went after Paris Hilton just days before she went to jail. This time it was Britney Spears. While the comeback wannabe singer did a very good job in embarrassing herself on the MTV Music Awards, Sarah Silverman would not let go and kicked her ass. When someone is on his low you either help or stay out, but not our bully Sarah, she will keep on hurting, over and over. We said it in this blog before, Silverman suck big time. And bully Sarah is full of BS.
Sarah Silverman is everywhere in entertainment news as of late. Headlining a Vegas show, starring in some lame arthouse flick, and now, with the return of her show on Comedy Central, The Sarah Silverman Program. I’d respect Sarah a bit more if her act/humor didn’t solely rely on her ability to provoke without any comedic substance or wit of any kind. That, and I couldn’t help but notice that every article that made mention of Silverman’s latest movie I Want Someone To Eat Cheese With mostly alluded to words such as “striptease” and “skivvies” when describing the movie. That can’t bode well for the remaining hour and half of the film.
Sarah is already making waves these days for the controversy surrounding the premise of the season premiere of her show. The racially-charged episode features Sarah donning a black face after she is denied entrance (for being Jewish, according to her) into a club and runs into a black waiter who makes the comment, “Try being Black for a day.” Well, you get where the plot goes from there. After all, I wouldn’t wanna ruin the surprise.
This week in pop culture was all about people who have a lot to lose and they are just about to lose it. Even though I have seen a thing or two in my life, I was very surprised about Owen Wilson’s suicide attempt and even more, to learn that he is a junkie. For him and for his family and friends, I hope he reached the bottom, and he understands where he is. I hear he canceled his appearance in the new comedy ‘Tropic Thunder’. I hope he can now concentrate on his recovery. Amy Winehouse didn’t reach rock bottom yet, but she is definitely on the way to disaster. While Owen Wilson tried to get rid of the habit times and times before, Amy just don’t care. First she canceled her North American tour, then she canceled her performance in the MTV Video Music Awards. Winehouse is very talented, but she is also very young and unstable, and she is with someone who’s personality is not much different then hers. Amy is going in and out of rehab, fights with her man, and living a miserable life. Some characters of Amy Winehouse’s story remind me of the Kurt Cobain story.
She needs to take real good care of herself, before her career and life will be a mach, that burns strong at first, but seconds later, there is nothing left, all is ashes.
Adding to the leak of damaging and discouraging Amy Winehouse photos/news of late, Winehouse’s dad has now entered into the paparazzi mixploitationgiving an interview to the BBC earlier today, which read like a sincere enough plea for help on behalf of his daughter. Concerned father or not, Mitch is clearly in denial about a few things regarding his daughter’s history of emotional health. First off, Mitch states (in the transcript) that Amy only started using hardcore drugs in the past few mos and that prior to this, she prided herself on being “clean”. The girl has been spiraling down on a drug-frenzied journey for at least a year now. Also, given the combination of eating disorder, potential spousal abuse, and drugs, it’s quite obvious she’s self-medicating and self-destructing at the same time. That sh*t doesn’t happen overnight.
If, as Mitch Winehouse is quick to relay, the record companies are really looking out for Amy’s best interest in canceling her tour dates and ensuring a speedier and healthier recovery period for the gifted singer, then props to them. Somehow Mitch Winehouse’s careful finessing of certain high density media outlets at opportune times makes me think he might quietly be relishing all this attention. I hope time prove me wrong. Lord know we have enough celebrity whore fathers out there…
Where to begin, I guess with a recap of last week’s R&R Triple A Summit in Boulder, CO. It was great spending time with all of my fellow music loving radio folks, label reps and promotions guys and girls. Nothing like being around a bunch of people who share the same passion, drive and enthusiasm for music and spreading its gospel to eager ears around the globe.
I am such a big fan of this conference that I would attend even if I wasn’t in the business. It makes me believe in the power or music and shows me that real radio is alive and well. BIG THANKS to R&R Triple A Editor John Schoenberger, President/Publisher Erica Farber and everyone involved in putting on this wonderful event.
I must admit, I was a bit irked by some of the grumblings I heard about this year’s lineup. Yes, there were no “headline” names so to speak but the quality of the acts that performed spoke for itself and what the convention lacked in “big names” it more than made up for with credible acts putting on memorable performances. And after all, aren’t we the people who make the stars of tomorrow? Aren’t we the ones who give the up and comer a chance and let our listeners hear their music in its infancy? Aren’t we the ones who don’t forget the artists after the rest of the industry has thrown them on the scrap heap even if they are still making incredible music? If you were one of the ones bitching about the lineup, I think you oughta check yourself! Read More…
NME reports that our beloved MOT equivalent of Diana Ross, aka Amy Winehouse is currently in a hotel in London recovering from what appears to have been a drug overdose.
Reports have suggested that Winehouse suffered from a drug overdose at 1am on Wednesday (August , and was treated with an adrenaline shot before her stomach was pumped.
Anyone else find it mildly perplexing that Amy is convalescing in the warm, homey environs of a hotel? Anyways, talk-of-town post OD rumors was the Amy was entering rehab, but as fate would have it, her publicist dismissed that rumor with a “no, no, no.”
Winehouse overdosed on August 10th. Only two days earlier, she was nominated for 3 MTV VMA awards including Female Artist of the Year and and Video of the Year. Precluding any potential rumor of Winehouse succumbing to the pressure, and falling prey to its folly, one can only hope she’s emotionally and mentally in better shape when Grammy nomination time comes.
The summer season is lackluster when it comes to the production of new, interesting television. There was a piece published a few months back in Entertainment Weekly that described the transition from Summer being a season of re-runs to new pilots. On the flipside of re-runs was the chance to catch up on any episodes you missed during the regular season and to get you all jazzed up the Fall season. There was a roundness/cyclical nature to such network programming strategy. Now it’s all about bombarding viewers with as many new game shows starring burned out 80s stars on the major networks, and on the more provocative cable networks, intense dramas with big-name movie stars.
Given this new formula, it’s not surprising to see Chris O’Donnell back on the small screen (after all, we saw him on Gray’s Anatomy playing Meredith’s boyfriend not too long ago) starring in a Goodfellas-type Ridley Scott/John Grishamesque drama called The Company with Michael Keaton and Alfred Molina. The show debuts tonight on TNT at 8 PM and since my favorite show Weeds doesn’t start up for another week (neither does The Hills btw, but how much fun will that be without the pervasive presence of Heidi Blow-up doll Montag), I just might be forced to give Chris O’Donnell a little TLC in the form of company tonight.
In the meantime, to satiate Weeds fans in anticipation of next week’s Season 3 opener, here’s a sneak peak. Oh, did we forget to mention that Mary-Kate (the formerly troubled, newly rehabilitated of the Olsen twins) is slated to join the cast this season as Sylas’ girlfriend? We can hardly wait…
Ok, so Amy Winehouse and Scottish bloke singer Paolo Nutini are already slated to tour together (we’re always the last to know…), but who knew the duo might have such complimentary voices? The video seen below is an homage to Scottish singer Paolo Nutini and the psycho who compiled this image gallery of a video on Youtube. Right. So why do we care? Cause it also relates to Amy Winehouse and it just so happens that the Nutini video montage also features audio of the singer doing a cover of Amy Winehouse’s Rehab. And after listening to this cover, you’ll be hard-pressed to find two other white people (and one Jewish at that) who do Soul as well, at least in today’s emerging music scene. Sufficed to say, I’d love to see these two on tour together.
Amaldo.com vlogger Ilana Donna steps it up a notch this week with her pop culture round-up, once again giving us All the news that’s fit to capture on video including talk of Spice Girls reunion, Nicole Ritchie’s fertility, and Lindsay Lohan’s latest DUI. And for naysayers proclaiming you read all this in last week’s “US Weekly,” when’s the last time you saw Spice Girls hit single “Wannabe” sung freestyle?
Wait. Did I or did I not use “freestyle” correctly here? Eh. Who cares. Just watch the video, k.
Dame Fergie of the Black Eyed Peas got it right. Big Girls Don’t Cry
But do they get piss poor drunk (for the umpteenth time), forget their lines onstage, proceed to say “F*ck! F*ck! F*ck!” while repeatedly hitting their head with a microphone, and then proceed to spit at the crowd after being a no-show at several other scheduled live gigs in the past few months?
So Amy Winehouse is back in the media whirlwind for her behaviour while onstage at the Eden Project this week. While Amy’s actions have been linked to the two bottles of Champagne, two bottles of Jack Daniels, and two bottles of red wine found in her trailer, one has to wonder if she’s trying to conceal something a bit bigger. Like maybe this girl with the amazing voice is simply a manufactured product of a British recording studio. Conspiracy theories aside, the self-destructive rockstar diva bit is getting old.
We’re all so relieved that Rebecca Romijn has moved on to greener pastures with Jerry O’Connell. Not to kick a man while he’s down, but O’Connell seems much better suited to the former model/actress.
I’m all for people thinking they can do everything. Just not actually the doing of everything. Take “Heroes” Hayden Panettierre. The girl has a contract with Neutrogena that she practically ripped from Mischa Barton’s squeaky clean, non-pore existent face and hands (not to mention the gal’s popularity) and she’s the star of a hit show on NBC. Did I mention she’s also dating Steven from “Laguna Beach”? Ok, so he’s more of a consolation prize/Kristin Cavalieri’s sloppy seconds/Lauren Conrad’s even sloppier thirds, but everything being equal the girl has a lot going for her right now. So why ruin an absolutely good thing by attempting to sing on July 4 in our nation’s capital? Never mind the fact that the audience embraced her. She’s an “American Idol” third round elimination at best.
Alright, so I just got back from a whirlwind 10-day tour – 24 hours with the family back in Bama, a couple of days at a little festival in Tennessee, 32 label meetings over the course of 5 days in NYC. And a chance meeting with Mickey Dolenz at a private party for Duran Duran.
What new stuff did we learn this time? Not a damn thing – everyone that still has a job is still kickin’ it, albeit with more challenges and smaller budgets. Sure, there was plenty of gossip, rumors, and speculation, but I’ll leave it up to Billboard to report the facts. However, talk of chain retailers behaving badly and trying to demand – not negotiate, but basically EXTORT fatter margins and better dating terms from the distributors – deserves some Woodward & Bernstein-style investigative reporting. Ugly stuff.
But while listening on the plane home to two of my top 10’s for 2007 from THE SHINS and WHITE STRIPES -– both incredible albums, signs of true artists at the top of their game — I suddenly realized that both of these bands started up exactly TEN YEARS AGO. Then I thought, “Hmm, that’s an odd coincidence. Is this true with other bands?” So I looked it up, and it holds true with a lot of modern musicians – Metallica by METALLICA? Ten years. OK Computer by RADIOHEAD? Ten years. Out of Time by R.E.M.? Ten years. Play by MOBY? Ten years. Blood Sugar Sex Magik by RED HOT CHILI PEPPERS? Ten years (alright, closer to nine). Hell, even All the Right Reasons by NICKELBACK – ten years! Read More…
Amy Winehouse’s latest public display of daddy-didn’t-love-me enough f*cked up starlet on coke is all the news in Britain. In the U.S., we have Paris Hilton to fill this role, but ok, ok, that designation doesn’t do justice to Amy’s talent or level of genuine self-destructive behavior.
So what’s the 23-year-old’s latest controversy that’s got everyone talking both her and abroad?
In a photo shoot for Spin magazine this past week, Amy took to picking up a piece of broken mirror and carving her stomach with the words “I Love You Blake” on her belly. Blake Fielder-Civil would be Amy’s husband of one month who was filming the shoot and caught the glass-cutting episode (sure to be sold to the highest British tabloid buyer when marriage goes sour). Amy later scoffed at her behavior likening her cutting episode with “chicken scratch.”
Still, in Amy’s defense glass cutting can’t be all the much of a departure from tattoo sleeves. What’s one sterile form of self-mutilation among body art aficionados?