Yo, Haters... Some R-E-S-P-E-C-T

So, when you are at the stoplight checking me out, nodding your approval and my playlist switches from a tag team of Kanye West and Talib Kweli over to something like Bob Dylan or Warren Zevon, I will admit it is a bit surreal, but it in no way makes me a poser.... so mouthing that as you peel off at the light not only makes you a hazard on the road, but an utter jackass of proportions you couldn't count--even if you got nekkid. Get some skooling... Kanye and Talib would even smack you up your heads for that fake shit.

All Hail Kanye

The last week or so, I've been listening to Kayne West's latest single, "Stronger." I've been somewhat amused by some of the lyrics; especially the painting of what seems like a bar pick up scene and Kanye's insistence that it is what God wants. Still, the song is strong and sexy... and not entirely exclusive of the words and music, West adds a significant amount of raw energy to it. So, when I came across this article indicating 50 Cent will stop releasing solo albums if Kanye's forthcoming "Graduation" outsells 50's forthcoming work to be released the same day.

I don't care if you download via iTunes, buy it in person at Target or order it via Amazon -- I urge you all to get the latest Kanye West album on September 11. Together, we can overcome further 50 Cent works 'in da club.' Better yet, PRE ORDER, according to Amazon, Kanye is currently #36 in the best seller list based on pre-orders, with 50 lagging back about 100 spots.

Poisoning the muzik

Tonight, I watched two videos... not an activity that I do very often, but I just couldn't help it. Poison has released their 20th anniversary album. Where do I start?

I guess I start 20 years ago (sorry SK... we have to face the facts) when four men in make up and women's attire came screaming into the airwaves of Cheboygan begging us to Talk Dirty to Them--this meant that they had likely been making this request for some time, as Cheboygan was often a little behind the times. Then, there was the begging of the parents to let me go see them in concert... first, the opened for Ratt, and I wasn't allowed to go. The next year they toured through the area opening for David Lee Roth... and I got to go. Oh yeah, the Roth-man. That was the year I for Brett Michaels and Rikki Rocketts' autographs. It was awesome but would have only been made better if it had been CC. The following year, I got to see them headline (Tesla opened). It was even better.

Fast forward to now... yeah, I have some Poison on my playlist, nostolgia gets to me from time to time and I need a little Talk Dirty to Me, a little of the Crue, some Tesla... but I was so unprepared for the videos.

First, I have to say Poison making a comeback as a cover band is bad, but what is worse are the two covers I heard. "We're an American Band" and "What I Like About You" are classics, and I think I might have liked them better if I had not first been exposed via video. Bobbi Dahl is balding and looking like a saggy old guy, Rikki, not much better... Brett has too much collogen and really, he tries too hard and looks like he hasn't left 1986 (sans the AquaNet). CC, well, CC is still a brilliant guitarist, lending the only redemption to the remakes, but I suspect should still not be allowed to speak.

Ironically, it was just yesterday when I was driving home listening to the lastest Bon Jovi thinking about how they survived, they've grown with their audience... they aren't the same, but they are better... they have evolved, but had you asked me 20 years ago, I would have thought that Poison would have stood the test of time (hey, there isn't anything you don't know when you are 12-13!). And today, this. I'm not surprised that Poison has sold out a stadium tour, as far as performers, they were amazing--ok, Brett and CC were amazing... I don't think the stage could handle more ego than that.

It gets me thinking a little, too, about how I purposely avoided reviews and interviews on the new Bon Jovi release so I could hear it on my own without outside interference with creating my own experience in listening to the music. It is something I try to do more lately... and yet, I dug down into the Poison videos like a moth to the light. Perhaps the reason is more to do with the unliklihood that I will actually download the CD, but in all fairness, I should have tried to listen to music before I watched it... I might have not left with as bad a taste had I not watched Brett's showboating his new lips.

Getting Retro

Every band gets back together, eventually, and records an album of classic covers. Poison is no exception... It's like a wreck where you just have to look, even though you don't want to... And I have to agree, based on what I've heard of the CD, with the Rolling Stone review... CC's guitar work is the only redeeming quality on the recordings. Ahh yeah, CC great guitarist, but don't let him speak.

Things that go on behind open blinds

So, all in all, my adventures in hula hooping is going well enough. It's a lot of fun. I created my own iTunes mix of Hoola Hoop music, but it seems to break my blog when I add it... this will mark the second time I've reposted this!

I did notice my neighbors watching the other day as I hula'ed in front of the TV (and the patio door). Not nearly as startling as the revelation this morning that the other neighbor was watching me get dressed. I had forgotten, or just not realized (cared) that the blinds were open in the bedroom window and was surprised to see a neighbor--clearly not laughing--leaned over his balcony to see into my bedroom. At least I can say that I was not doing anything that was considered outside the standards of normalcy and decency by any conventional definition. At least I wasn't nekkid hula'ing... now that would be simply terrifying!! And definately not decent.

Now, whether it is normal or decent to be photographed while hoola'ing in one's SuperGirl jammies is a whole other estimation.

The Sunday Sermon

Not so much a sermon as I haven't had much time since Wednesday... mom came in for the weekend on Thursday afternoon and just left a few hours ago.

Thursday evening, we went to see Bob Seger at Cobo in Detroit. It was a Code Red on the mullet alert; and I have to say, I never thought I would bear witness to such a thing, but there was a grey-hair man (okay, there were LOTS of grey-haired men) with not only a mullet, but somehow combined in a combover. The show itself was good... Seger is a great performer... Uncle Kracker opened for him, Kid Rock made an appearance to do the song they recently recorded together, but for a guy who can rock, he is the epitome of hard core white rockers--rythymless off a musical instrument. I swear, he did a lot of double Sprinklers and generally white man dancing--and not even to the beat of his own music. Thank god he came into his 40 years ago, he'd never survive now if he had to break into the scene. Still, I couldn't help but laughing between bouts of being horrified.

Last night, mom and I went to see Music & Lyrics... I can't remember laughing so hard. Hugh Grant is priceless and nails the 80s hairband has been. The "video" of him with his 80s band at the beginning is well worth the price of admission. It's Wham! meets Flock of Seagulls... and even Grant can't seem to make it through without laughing at the ridiculousness of it. It's a fluffy romantic comedy that you totally expect from Hugh Grant and Drew Barrymore, and quite light on the romantic, too, but it's there. The plot, eh, who needs one with one-liners like "I'll show you the roof; it's upstairs" and "That Debbie Gibson can sure take a punch" who needs a plot. Besides, Hugh Grant gets his now infamous hip thrust "dance" in at every chance--and if you can't enjoy a middle-aged Brit doing his best Elvis, then up your medication.

And the cats have also survived a weekend of company... just barely. Seems grandma is not to be trusted and must be watched, hidden from and otherwise all the ills of the mistreatment they receive here communicated at every chance. They are now all sprawled out over the living room, sleeping and recovering from I'm not sure what... having to inspect bags, I suppose. Well, I did vaccuum, and that always requires that they take a nap... it's exhausting for them, you know.

As for me, I'm going to finish getting the rest of my laundry together so when I return from the gym and grocery shopping, I can get that done and outta the way for another week. Otherwise, that's all I got for now.

Is it still rock and roll, and do we still like it?

Well, folks, it is official... hell has come down on us--none of us are safe, prepare for the Rapture to begin... the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame inducted Grandmaster Flash. Has it only been 25 years since his Message ruined Regan's life? Making people aware that there were problems in the ghetto? It's no wonder Regan had to bring AIDS into the inner cities--who ever would have thought that it would travel from the ghettos and gay populations to affect white suburbia? Certainly not a guy from Hollywood... that just seemed like a stretch... a perfect plan backfired. So, I'm sure if Regan remembered, he rolled over in his grave.

My point was not to return to the "glory days" of Reganomics in all its sick and deranged forms and I'm pretty certain I will get emails about how Regan didn't bring AIDS on his own country, but just save it, you can't prove he didn't. MY POINT was that we have reached a new milestone in making me feel old--hip/hop has entered the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. Aside from making me feel old, it also makes me sad. It deserves a place on the wall out of respect, and I'm all for not needing another Hall of anything, but the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame is a joke... yep, time for my yearly tirade... but I'll skip to Grandmaster's fellow inductees... because, it's a sadder state that culminates to my point that Grandmaster Flash deserves better.

After a lengthy article denoting the various Van Halen "issues" that are completely expected, old news and without any redeeming journalistic merit, the AP notes:

No such drama was anticipated for R.E.M., only a happy reunion...

Ya don't say... aren't these the Shiny Happy People? (Shiny Happy People who LOST THEIR RELIGION??)

Mr. Grandmaster Flash, sir, a word or two of advice... pull a Prince. Get in there, show up Tom Petty and walk off stage knowing that you are in fact the Grandmaster and fuck the rest of the disfunction. Ok, so maybe Tom Petty won't be there, but pick someone equally of high rank within the "community" kick their ass and call it a night... the rest of them are has-beens. You are not. You still have relevance and respect.