Last night at the VMA’s
Watching Michael Jackson receiving the ‘Artist Of The Millennium’ award felt like watching a public execution. Or maybe an ambush. “Here’s the award our intern won on open mic-night last week. Say your standard little speech and get the fuck out.” So he did. For the first time in my life I actually felt sorry for the guy.
The years have not been kind to Axl.
The Hives Vs The Vines: Shakira won that one.
Absolute highlight: Eminem and entourage telling Triumph to back off.
As expected, there was little to get excited about, you could really sense that people wanted the show to end quickly so they could get on with the boozing up. No wonder the post-show lasted only a few minutes. The production values reverted back to those of 1984, which was kinda nice to see.
OK, now this is just really pathetic…
Said the XFM-presenter: ‘If Alec Empire were to remix this, the world’I don’t want to make September 11th thingies but’it would end.’. Riiiight. Now, what was the exact kind of fucking monkeys you have sitting behind the mic over there in the UK? I make the angry fist, but it’s because of Her and She’s the one who swings in the end. And murder him She does. The build-up, the precision, the change-ups, the climax and that hiss. That eeevilllll hiss. I mean, I can’t play this too often for it might make me want to do stuff (Oops! It’s on repeat’;-). At the very least She’ll scare you right off the floor, it’s that offensive.
Then it’s over to The Prodigy’s “Baby’s Got A Temper” and with that I may have already found my worst single of the year. Jesus, what a dirge! The clownesque synthloop fits Keiff for all the wrong reasons and besides that novelty their choon hasn’t changed a goddamned bit. Rohypnol, my ass. Coming soon to a schooldisco near you. Makes me want to finish the bottle before it hits rotation of any kind.
After failing to speak to the man while on special assignment in Davis, Sacramento and San Francisco, Dutch journalist Sander Kerkhof finally caught up with DJ Shadow for an interview over the phone, resulting in a half-hour long self-portrait of a man who’d normally rather let his hands do the talking. Hear Josh Davis, in his own words, about how and why he got started, hiphop in the early ’80s and where exactly he got most of the source material for ‘Endtroducing’. This one’s for the fans. Essential.
Warning: The first link has Dutch commentary. Both are Real Audio-files at 3voor12.
Destiny’s Child — Nasty Girl
Up until now, they have managed to surprise me with every single and – sorry Popistas! – for a popact that’s a whole lot. But the forced demeanor of this particular gem just can’t seem to keep the tired theme from standing out even more (maybe it’s just my personal Catholic hang-up talking here but aren’t these ‘nasty’, ‘trashy’ girls being frowned upon just for wanting to dress up like DC?!). When you’ve been untouchable for so long, that’s when the inevitable hits the hardest. If the obit’s not available yet, then where’s the remedial remix?
Ah, the classic, woeful tale of a werewolf on the run. Villagers with pitchforks and dogs on his tail, the taste of a strange woman’s blood on his fangs’He was too damned to stick to the only girl who would love him so she let him go and alarmed the townfolk to keep him away. He cried, panted, rolled on her livingroom floor like only he could, desperately pleading with her to come with him, but by then she had gotten too afraid of him to even consider it. All she could do was give him a headstart for the southern border.
Now he’s running through the swamp, probably within minutes of catching that silver bullet, and all he can think about are the last words she muttered as she shut the door behind him: ‘I would’ve given you my neck too, you sonofabitch…’
The song packs a good, compact punch and Spencer’s panting and wailing has rarely been this spot on. The ProTools are gone too, thankfully. Maybe now we can finally sweep up the pretty vamps from the NY streets and put some real b.o. back into The Rock. My money’s on the werewolf.