Satanic Christmas

"The dyslexic devil worshiper sold his soul to Santa."*

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I've been waiting ten fucking months to post this. It was about time.

And, honestly... I can't possibly think of a better way to sum up my year.

I don't know if I'll post anything before New Year's Eve, but, if I don't, I'll just tell you right now that I wish you a happy New Year – or, at least, I wish that your next year will be slightly less fucked up than the last one – and I hope Santa brings you as many dinosaurs as he possibly can.

Sometimes the thing you need most comes in the least expected form.

To me, this was it.

Have a Satanic Christmas you all... no blasphemy indended ;)



Of course, if this doesn't seem Satanic enough, you can always turn up the Cherrytree factor.



Creepy, heh?

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Oh, and happy, happy, happy, happy birthday to Lemmy Kilmister – I don't give a fuck if I'm one day late.

After all, celebrating Lemmy's birthday is what all this Christmas thing is all about, right? ;)

Stay well, mate. Rock and roll needs you.

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...and whatever gets you though the (holy) night.

*Credit on the joke goes to 99.9 KISW The Rock Of Seattle and their #BadJokeFriday.

Third Day Of A Phantom Limb Storm

To my amazement, the last week has turned out to be extremely prolific in terms of surprise releases on the most unexpected fronts. It feels like Christmas has come early this year, and that's not necessarily a coincidence, since Halloween is apparently turning into the new Christmas for hard rock and heavy metal fans.

Naturally, none of this extends to Metallica, who are still not willing to release any new material whatsoever till Hell freezes over. But that's something we're all used to living with at this point. And, if you're too hungry for Metallica releases, you can always order that $400 live box set. You can just as well pre-order one for me, if you have $400 to spare and feel like doing me a favor LMAO But who the fuck am I talking to, if I don't even have readers in the first place?

Never mind.

This lucky string of releases began on Monday, when I woke up (at whatever time that might have happened LOL) to discover that there was a brand new Marilyn Manson song out there. I had a certain suspicion that something like this might happen after his website was recently updated to reveal a new MM logo, but I wasn't expecting him to strike so quickly.

I was obviously wrong.

The track in question, interestingly titled Third Day of a Seven Day Binge, is meant to serve as a first taste of his yet untitled ninth album, due to come out in early 2015, and to prove that, once you've done having record label trouble, things can start to move way, way quicker.

Because, ovbiously, the time has come for a new Marilyn Manson record to drop. I hadn't even taken the time to sit back and realize it's already been about two and a half years since Born Villain came out. It honestly didn't feel that long, perhaps because I've had plenty of stuff to keep myself entertained. Or perhaps because Manson has somehow managed to not disappear from the public eye during most of that time, which is not a small achievement in this day and age.

His media presence has been especially strong during the last few months, mostly thanks to his recurring role in the final season of Sons Of Anarchy (which is being aired in the States as we speak), so it's not surprising he has chosen this specific moment to launch the pre-campaign for his album release - whatever the hell that means now.

"I love my job"

Far from the brutal aggression of I Am Among No One (the bizarre 30 second snippet that preceeeded the release of Born Villain), Third Day is a melancholic mid-tempo song with a certain new wave-ish High End Of Low feel, much in the spirit of Leave a Scar, only somewhat more depressing. It's a pretty classic Manson tune, but still beautiful.

Marilyn seems to be finally finding comfort in what I've come to designate as his DIY period - which encompasses all the works he has released since his relationship with Interscope started going sour, about ten years ago. As the budgets started shrinking (along with the media attention they bring) and his larger than life public persona started losing value in the middle of an increasingly disperse cultural landscape (with some help from the back PR team at Cherrytree Records *cough*), it became clear that it was time for him to become a different type of artist. And that's exactly what happened, eventually.

It wasn't always easy, going from being one of the most recognized (and feared) personalities on the planet (one powerful enough to make the kids pass on Marilyn Manson stories in the school playgrounds) – a gigantic pop culture superproduction – to operating with the means (and getting the recognition) of an obscure niche underground artist, but he did it, and the result seems to be paying out.

Now that he no longer has to play the second coming of the Antichrist, the androginous alien transplanted to Hollywood or the satirical embodiment of the American society, he can finally focus on being the poet of doom; a 45-year-old artist with human thoughts and human experiences, who operates more as a singer-songwriter than as a creative director. He has pretty much given up political commentary in favor of introspective observation, and he seems to be enjoying himself in that role – and so is his audience.

Against all odds, Manson seems to have finally found a place for himself in this post-cultural society. And I personally celebrate that.

If you're interested, the song is available as a free download on marilynmanson.com in exchange for your e-mail address. There might be some big data conspiracy there, but who cares... I don't really mind them having my e-mail address (I mean one of my many e-mail addresses *cough*) if they really use it to send me updates on MM activity. I kinda like the idea of resurrecting the newsletter as a concept, as old-fashioned as it might sound. However, if I start getting Cheap Viagra offers in my inbox, I'll know it was you, Brian Warner.

You have been warned.

But not even the release of a new Marilyn Manson song, along with the surprise announcement of an upcoming Marilyn Manson album, can compete with the astonishment caused by the premiere of a brand new Alice In Chains video.

That's right – from out of nowhere, Alice have come up with a music video for Phantom Limb because why the fuck not.

After reading an interview Mike Inez did this summer (which, by the way, included some hilariously self-deprecating depictions of his domestic life) where he explained how they all need to take some time off between album cycles to do some normal people stuff, and knowing that they are not exactly media-loving people, I was morally prepared to not hearing from the band AT ALL until their next record came out... sometime in 2016 LOL Imagine my surprise when I stumbled upon some actual Alice news only a couple of months after their tour ended. My eyes almost popped out.

The announcement was accompanied by a new picture of the band which, unfortunately, turned out to be a Photoshop composition, because photographers don't even know how to just take a goddamn picture anymore... and also because the guys who run your marketing can never be trusted, and because the four band members probably aren't even in the same city right now.

What is Photoshop?

It's always weird when people you care about get the Photoshop treatment, but hey... at least they don't have a creepy gang of German pedophiles sampling their voices and putting them into shitty disco songs they did not write, which is more than some other bands can say *cough*

We should just call it Artist's Conception – Sketch of what might have been an actual photograph.

But that's not even the point.

I had somehow assumed that their final 2014 tour date also served as the final nail on the coffin of the Dinosaurs era, but it seems like that's not necessarily the way things work for Alice.

Answering to a fan who had asked him what was the ideal number of songs to put in an album (quite a freaky question, IMO LOL), Will once said that, given the current state of things in the industry, it could be four or twenty-four, or whatever the hell you want, because it doesn't really matter. I guess that pretty much sums up the band's view on the music industry game. In the current  climate, there's no real way to suceed – therefore there's no way you can fail. So, if you want to make a seven-minute-long music video for the heaviest and most radio un-friendly song you can think of one year and a half after the actual album came out, then do it, 'cause You got, got / Nothin' to lose.

With this move, the band is basically showing the world that they have completely run out of fucks to give. And, damn, man... I'm really thankful for it.

Just like I'm thankful for the fact that they've chosen precisely Phantom Limb as their next sort-of-single. I can't say that it's one of my favourite tracks on the Dinosaurs album, because that would be like stating that I have some least favourite songs on it – which is totally unconceivable LOL It is, however, one of the three first Alice songs I ever liked (along with Hollow and Hung On A Hook), and that is bound to create a special bond for life. 

It's also the only song on the record co-written by Will, and the only one to feature his vicious soloing along with his killer vocals.

The video is built around a mindfucking paradox, exactly like I was expecting it to be (well, I might have not necessarily predicted its paradoxal nature, but I definitely expected it to be mindfucking, because that's what Alice do best LOL): a young intruder breaks into an old man's house, they put up one hell of a fight, the old man gets killed... and then mindfuck happens – all pretty much in the spirit of the song.

Like all previous music videos for this album (except for the title track), the visual companion to Phantom Limb was directed by Robert Schober (a.k.a. Roboshobo), who is also responsible for Metallica's All Nightmare Long (among tons of other stuff I'm not that familiar with).

It's funny because, when I found out that he counted Metallica anmong his clients, I knew he had to be the director of All Nightmare Long straight away. And the reason why I identified his style so quickly is because, for me, All Nightmare Long had exatly the same problem as Hollow and Phantom Limb. I'm calling it problem because it's not a real PROBLEM, but rather a personal issue.

At the height of his idealistic days, Edie Vedder explained his strong dislike of music videos by saying: "Before music videos first came out, you’d listen to a song with headphones on, sitting in a beanbag chair with your eyes closed, and you’d come up with your own visions, these things that came from within. Then all of a sudden, sometimes even the very first time you heard a song, it was with these visual images attached, and it robbed you of any form of self-expression." Well, even though I can't subscribe to his total rejection of the music video as a format, it's undeniable that he did have a point.

And so, my issue with the Robo-man is not that his visuals for the songs differ from the ones I have, but rather that his approach to how these visuals should interact with the music sometimes enters in conflict with mine. So, what happens is that, whenever he has a video with a complex storyline (like in the case with the three aforementioned videos), as opposed to a more general/abstaract concept, is that he tends to use the music as a backdrop for the dramatic action, instead of treating the song as the central character and let its structure set the pace for the unfolding of events. Or that's the way I perceive it anyway.

So, my thing with the Hollow video, for example, is that, even though I think it's really good, whenever I see it all I want to do is close my eyes and look away, just because I don't want to be distracted from the song. I really like the video – I just like the song more.

But I guess that's a problem you face when working with songs this big.

That said, however, it's undeniable that the the first impression of seeing Hollow (song and video combined) is one that never leaves you, just like it's undeniable that the Robo-man really has a talent for coming up with strong and original concepts, as well as a special sensitivity to detect certain elements that are present in the music and incorporate them into his set of visuals: the weird sense of ingravity in Hollow (thus the action being set in space), as well as the limping nature of its 6/4 riff (the main character actually starts limping half-way through the footage); the hilarious Cold War-themed horror/sci-fi fantasy extravaganza of All Nightmare Long (which seems to have been made up by twelve-year-old Kirk Hammett); the quarry in Stone (because obviously LOL); the depth of Jerry's love for Seattle in Voices (I assume Jerry is not the only Seattle-loving member in the band, but he's the one who wrote the song anyway, so the merit goes to him LOL), or the concepts of mutual damage and supernatural revenge in Phantom Limb (which he preserved in his storyline, with a paradoxal twist), as well as the blank TV screen... I can't really say what's the deal with that. All I know is that my own personal vision of the song also included blank/malfunctioning screens. Guess that must have been encoded in the music somehow...? O.o LOL

To make the release even more original, the video comes as a BitTorrent bundle (i.e. a download), which means you can't find it online. Well, you can now, because fans are not stupid and some of them have already uploaded it, but you definitely won't find it on any of the band's official accounts. Or, at least, not yet.

I have spent many hours mentally debating the potentially evil connotations of this type of partnership, but then again, partnering with an entity like BitTorrent is not that different from partnering with YouTube or Vevo, which they have also done. And it's also not that different from posting my thoughts on a Google-owned platform, like I'm doing right now.

When walking through a swamp, there's only a certain amount of steps you can make before you hit some mud – and no one here is a fucking lotus flower. It's all good, as long as you don't get sucked into quicksand. I guess.

While I was putting myself through the not-so-immediate process of installing the BitTorrent software and downloading the actual video, I realized the degree to which file sharing has become a retro concept of sorts. In a time when pretty much everything is available on (and controlled by) YouTube and/or Spotify, there's a certain outlaw-ish feeling to using file sharing as a form of distribution. Knowing that you have that obscure file somewhere on your hard drive gives you an old-fashioned sense of intimacy with the band you don't really get through streaming, and it also allows you to bypass the hateful tirade of "Jerry Cantrell is old" "that black guy is a fag and a poser" "they'll never make another record as good as Dirt" comments, which is nice for a change.

It all reminds me of the time when kids would sit on MSN Messenger (RIP) all day, sending music files back and forth, not for the sake of piracy, but because music still had a hint of cultural relevance, and, back then, that was the only way you had of discovering music that was under the hit industry radar (which was pretty much all of it). Some of those files came from records people had actually bought. Others, of course, didn't. But, at least, people talked and exchanged impressions, which is so much more than they do today.

The problem is never in the channel – it's in the culture... or the total and absolute lack of it.

And there, my friends, is where we're really fuked up.

By the way, if you're still curious about those Mike Inez quotes, I dug them out just for you:

"I have a wonderful wife. I walk in the door and she hands me a dogshit shovel and says, 'The dog yard is over there, rock star. Get to work.' It's funny. And, 'Here's some light bulbs and get the ladder out. You've got work to do.' She slaps me down pretty good. So [we] just need to get home."

Oh, marriage, sweet marriage. Who wouldn't want it? ;)

Tuesday was a great day under the shadow of the Space Needle (that is assuming that the Space Needle ever does project a shadow, given Seattle's usual weather conditition LOL), not just because of the surprise release of the Phantom Limb video, but also because Soundgarden dropped a brand new song. Just like that.

I have been getting into Soundgarden lately as a part of my ongoing grunge education, and I've really come to like the band so far. They are much more on the psychedelic side of things than Alice (and are even more 70s influenced... if that's even possible LOL), but when they get heavy... man, they do get heavy. Their love for Zeppelin, Sabbath and even the *sigh* Beatles is very palpable throughout their work – just as much as their fondness for low tunings.

Their songwriting is not as grandiose as Alice's, but that's just because Cantrell's songwriting is the size of classical music, and that's definitely not something you can expect to find every day. I could feel tempted to say that their sound is stronger than their actual songs, but that's exactly what I thought of Alice after I first heard Dinosaurs... and look at me now.

And then again, my knowledge of the band's work is by now limited to their best known album (their iconic 1994 release, ironically titled Superunknown), so I can't exactly talk like I'm the biggest expert.

Flaming youth gonna set the world on fire

This new song, however, doesn't stray too far from the Soundgarden I know.

Storm is a heavily psychedelic number with some serious Superunknown vibes. It features some nice harmonized vocals made in Chris Cornell and tons of weird Soundgarden guitars, which is pretty much everything you'd want to hear in a Soundgarden song. Its progressive, atmosferic and somewhat mystic nature is underpinned by a very muscular rhythm section (definitely one of the band's biggest strenghts), which creates a certain urgent feel, and therefore qualifies it as a road song – the type you'd like to hear while driving down a stormy desert highway (apparently, my ideal driving scenario LOL)... or that's the way I see it, anyway.

It feels like time hasn't really passed for Soundgarden... and that's not necessarily a bad thing.

Interestingly enough, Storm wouldn't sound out of place on a playlist with Alice In Chains' 1993 track A Little Bitter, which, on the other hand, is not that surprising, if you consider how close both bands have always been. They have given and taken a lot from each other through the years, and that's bound to show every now and then :)

This surprise release, by the way, comes in advance of Echo Of Miles: Scattered Tracks Across The Path, which, as its brief and totally un-pretentious *wink* title indicates, will be a compillation of rarities and B-sides. It doesn't sound like a type of release I would be especially interested in – at least, not at this point anyway. I still have to get through a lot of Soundgarden normalities before moving on to the weird stuff ;) Hardcore grungers, however, will most definitely celebrate the news.

Just like I'm celebrating this Third Day of a Phantom Limb Storm.

Whatever the hell that is.

Bono, Free Music

In case you haven't heard the news, there's a new U2 album out there. 

After starting and restarting the project over and over for about 5 years while in search for a sponsor who would or could take on the enormous task of providing a band like U2 with the humongous promotion it thinks it deserves, the charismatic Irish men have finally released the follow-up to 2009's bland No Line on the Horizon hand in hand with the almighty(?) Apple - their long-time corporate spouse.

*never forget*

Of course, we are living in the digital age, and there's no way an album release (especially a U2 album) could possibly generate any interest among the audience unless it was accompanied by some sort of super spectacular media stunt. In this case, that stunt came in the shape of Apple's brilliant idea of giving the album away for free to every iTunes subscriber (independently of whether they actually wanted it or not) coinciding with the release of their brand new iPhone 6 (damn, I used iTunes once, so I probably have a copy waiting for me somewhere. What a horrifying prospect. I won't even take the chance to find out :S LOL).

This move, once again, spurred the inevitable debate about whether it's morally acceptable to give music away for free and about what a self-important cunt Bono is (that's one very necessary issue to debate, if you ask me). I won't even bother to comment on the subject of music for free, because it's old as Hell, and debating it is extremely pointless, since the consolidated music industry has skillfully developed all the mechanisms to prevent musicians from seeing any money at all anyway.

Just keep in mind the idea that, if you come across a guy busking in the street and decide to give him two dollars, he'll be making a much larger profit per minute of work than he would with a major lablel release. Not bad, heh? That thought popped in my head once after I tipped a guitar guy who was playing Roadhouse Blues in the subway.

Nobody robs musicians as much as record labels do. But, hey... who said U2 were musicians anyway?

Jimmy Iovine - saving the music since 1990

And, then again, you can't really say you're giving music away for free when Apple is playing you $100 million for it, can you? Of course, this is Apple telling the world how big their corporate dick is, so I have absolutely no reason to believe they really paid 100 million dollars for this album, just like I have absolutely no reason to believe that they actually did pay $3 billion for Beats by Dre and their joke of a streaming service.

The whole thing looks like a page pulled from the book of Jay-Z's infamous Samsung deal - another disturbing (and not too successful) attempt at marrying album releases and totalitarian technology. In his case, Samsung offered a million copies of his Corte de Manga, Holy Shit Magna Carta, Holy Grail album for free to Samsung users through and app that, they would later find out, didn't really work - a malfunction that turned the album's glorious release into a hilarious fiasco.

Nevertheless, Jay-Z claimed that the million free copies Samsung was giving away should be counted as album sales (and, therefore, grant the album platinum status before its actual release), since they weren't really given away for free - just bought in advance by the tech giant. Billboard, however, didn't agree... and, a few months later, Bill Werde's head was comfortably sitting on top of a pike. Not a great loss, if you ask me.

I'm not sure about how this aspect will work out in U2's case, but I bet I'll have a great time finding out.

I have to add that the idea of a mega-corporation paying for an album's creation sounds like something so horrifyingly unreal it could only happen in the dystopic OCP-controlled society of Robocop.

That, of course, doesn't seem to be a problem for Bono, who, just like Jay-Z, knows that somewhere out there there's a megacorporation so loaded with money, it won't even mind paying him a ridiculous amount of it for whatever reason (or, preferrably, for no reason at all). His job as a *cough* "musician" is to find that corporation and suck from its money tit till it runs dry... and then find another. It doesn't matter if it's a record label, a tech company, a fashion conglomerate or a drug cartel - who gives a shit, as long as it means more money in Bono's off-shore accounts?

#NewRules, y'all

But Bono doesn't have enough with a succcessful(?) Nazi-marketing campaign - he has to save the world (after all, he's the Rock & Roll Messiah), and, apparently, so does Apple.

And, so, it turns out that the two goodwill giants aren't just selling an iPhone - they're working on a 'secret project' to save the music industry, y'all. At least, so says this article from Spin:

"The longtime partnership between the Irish band and the tech giant has more in store for the world in the form of a "secret project" that could revolutionize the music industry and help artists get compensated for their work.

The details of the plan are relatively vague, coming to us from a preview of Time magazine's upcoming cover story on the band. "Bono tells Time he hopes that a new digital music format in the works will prove so irresistibly exciting to music fans that it will tempt them again into buying music — whole albums as well as individual tracks."

A new digital music format?! REALLY?! That's it?! LMAO

*Illuminati bitch*

To me, this whole talk about 'revolutionizing' the music industry sounds a lot like the promo campaign for Troy Carter's Backplane. Remember The Backplane, kiddies? Oh, well, in case you don't know, it was the social media platform that was going to "gather content and interaction into one hub", "completely alter the economics of Hollywood" and make "revenue that once flowed to corporations" "flow to artists", and in the end turned out to be a cheap-looking fansite for Lady Gaga... like I had always said it would be.

Oh, but this is not some shitty social network - it's 'a format so exciting that it will tempt music fans into buying music again', no less.

Well, excuse my sincerity, but there's no format in the world that could possibly force people into buying the substandard crap you and the rest of the music industry are manufacturing these days... unless it's one that somehow magically replaces shitty records with better music LOL

Like Sharon Osbourne said:

"No wonder you have to give your mediocre music away for free 'cause no one wants to buy it."

I'm not sure if there are some obscure interests behind her statement or if she was just being honest (this modern world makes me paranoid), but thanks for saying it anyway.

BONOOOOOOOOO

Thirty years later, the corporations are still refusing to accept that people don't buy formats - they buy CONTENTS, and, even if you can disguise a not-so-great product behind a clever and/or aggresive marketing campaign and a nice packaging, it's a trick that only works for a limited amount of time (the rise and fall of Lady Gaga is probably the clearest example of that).

People don't buy books - they buy Harry Potter... or 50 Shades of Grey, if you like (probably because there are tons of sexually frustrated housewives out there, and because, honestly... who doesn't love a guy from Seattle? LOL). People didn't buy vinyl records in the 50s, 60s, 70s and 80s because they were so despearte to have a piece of black plastic in a cardboard sleeve with a picture on top; they bought them because they contained good music (or, at least, they did in a notably bigger proportion than they do nowadays), and also because music and the musicians who made it had cultural relevance and a certain ideological value - things they have completely lost now, thanks to the totalitarian practices of the corporations Bono loves so much.

The problem is not that people don't want to buy music anymore; the problem is that they don't even want to hear it for free.

Try to fix that, Apple. 

BONOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

This approach of putting the format on top of the content was basically what killed the music industry in the first place.

The record labels spent a good chunk of the 90s selling ridiculously overpriced CDs with free music in them, while buying each other into the monopolistic nonsense the music industry is today, and, when the idiotized Millennial teenagers (I know them well - I had to share a classroom with them and wonder why I couldn't have been born in the 1940s or the 1960s) decided they had already bought enough Eminem and Britney Spears CDs, the execs (who, by then, had already managed to steal tons of unwatched corporate money) got all excited thinking that they would finally be able to kill the CD for good and replace it for much less costly digital downloads. 

'Sugar, Free Donuts'

After all, CDs are quite an investment: they'remade of plastic and come with a booklet you have to design and then print. You have to make the whole thing at the factory, which is quite a pain in the ass, and then you have to physically transport tons of those things to the stores (thank God we have less and less of those now), where they will just sit on a shelf gathering dust... and they won't even start making money for you until someone actually buys them. So risky.

With digital downloads, however, all you have to do is design a cheap cover artwork (judging by the album covers we've been seeing in the last couple of years, the industry is already cutting costs in that department), upload the track and there you go. There is no factory, no transport, no unsold stock - just a tiny fee you pay to iTunes or whatever provider you're using. Compare the cost of both operations and you might get a clue on why the music industry has been trying so hard to kill the CD for the last 15 years... to little, success, I have to say, since even the most ridiculously industry-driven acts are still releasing albums (despite the many times the death of the album has been announced) on outdated CDs.

'Who said cover art was dead?'

Despite their non-existent production costs, digital downloads failed to generate a consumeristic fever that could be remotely compared to that of the early stages of the CD bubble, probably because people didn't need to re-buy their catalog as digital downloads (they could just rip them from the CDs anyway) and because there was no Black Album and no Nevermind to make them feel they wanted music to be a part of their lives - just Usher and 50 Cent advertising headphones in da club.

And yet here they are in 2014 - still looking for that magical format that will make them swim in money all over again - only the record labels don't care anymore, because there isn't really anyone left in the building. It's all down to the tyrants of tech now, and the former music moguls who have been clever enough to jump from one ship to the other.

Bono definitely wants to be in that category. But, of course, he'll never tell. After all, he's not into this to make money, remember?

"The point isn't just to help U2 but less well known artists and others in the industry who can't make money, as U2 does, from live performance. 'Songwriters aren't touring people,' says Bono. 'Cole Porter wouldn't have sold T-shirts. Cole Porter wasn't coming to a stadium near you.'"

Can you believe that?! The Irish man doesn't just care about making money for himself - he wants other musicians to make money as well! That's SO SWEET of you, dear. You must definitely be a saint.

'Hey, leave me out of this, bro'

It's really funny to hear a corporate whore like Bono talking about saving the music. It's funny to the degree it's not funny at all; just sickening beyond belief.

It's also funny how tech companies and major labels always end up sounding like they're the biggest defenders of small bands and unknown artists you could possibly encounter... because nuturing talent is all they ever care about. They are not looking for a way of getting rich without doing shit (no way!); they are trying to save ART, y'all. How fucking BEAUTIFUL is that?

"Hey! I'm a pretty lousy president!"

Anyway, Bonovox, I wouldn't worry much about professional songwriters, if that's your biggest concern, since they already have all the criminal performing rights organizations working for them, making sure they get paid and re-paid for all sorts of absurd things - like radio airplay -, so I think they've got that pretty covered. I'm much more concerned about what this corporate nightmare of a society we live in is doing to culture and the irreparable (?) damage it's causing to people's brains.

Thankfully, not even Spin seems to be too confident in the success of U2's (and Apple's) ambitious plans:

"We'll have to wait and see if U2 can really save the music industry, though the fact that they couldn't even save Spider-Man on Broadway doesn't give us too much hope. "

I rarely agree with Spin Magazine, but I have to take my hat off for this. You've got a point, guys. You've got a point LOL

BONOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

I wouldn't be too sorry about their failure, though. The music industry doesn't need saving. It just needs to completely lose its mainstream appeal so that, hopefully, all the greedy bastards parasitizing on it will lose interest and move onto something else. Only then will REAL musicians be able to gain control over their business again.

After all, this is what happened to the rock music ghetto, so maybe there's still a tiny bit of hope left somewhere.

Hopefully.

Until then, we'll just have to sit in a corner and let Google steal our Big Data... because what else is there to do in the digital age?

*yup*

PS. No, I don't get a dollar for every time I use the word 'corporate', but if I did... boy, that'd be good.

Pumba Loves His Food

Phantom limb on a phantom album from a phantom band.

We are living in the Age of Absurd.

Enjoy it.

Tour Is Over

When the tour is over 
When the tour is over, yeah
When the tour is over
Turn out the lights
Turn out the lights
Turn out the lights

Well the music is your special friend
Dance on fire as it intends
Alice is your only friend
Until the end
Until the end
Until the -

End 

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After sixteen months, the time has finally come to hang the dinosaur heads and say farewell to the world as I have grown to know it.

And so, here comes the moment when we look in each other's eyes and feel weird, not knowing what to say or do next. I don't know what happens now, and that scares me... but I won't allow that feeling to take over. Instead, I'll just sit back and trust I'll learn along the way.

I'll let you drive me through this one because, you know.... I don't even have a car, to start from ;)

Thank you for all the shows I didn't attend, and for the one I did attend... even if it was the shortest of them all LMAO

Guess I'll see you around... hopefully.

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Mending fence along the road
Barely holding together
Mapless zone the road signs holes
Keep ahead of the weather
Long past time to close dead eyes
Find a break in the highway
Out here I'm invisible
Very few going my way

Breath on a window showing tic tac toe
Rear view reflecting there ain't nobody home

Cigarette burn holes outline an old soul
Connect the dot scribbling

And you would never know

 

MTV VMAs: The Place Where Music Comes to Die

WARNING: This entry contains material that can be offensive for pretty much anyone, so, if you believe you can be offended by anything at all, please, go away now.

'Music's not dead - we're still in the process of killing it'

 "So it's that time of year again, when a channel that hasn't played a music video in about 15 yrs. has a music video awards show."

This tweet posted by basetendencies - a twitter account dedicated to the adoration of Twiggy Ramirez that I, of course, follow - on Sunday night summed it all up quite well.

Once again, VMA time has come and gone, and, as usual, nothing has happened. Like nothing at all. Because who could possibly even give a shit.

I wasn't even planning to watch the VMAs this year, but my curiosity for the disastrous state of pop culture finally overcame my rock ghetto instinct of self-protection and I ended up staying awake till 5 am (it's not like I don't usually stay awake till 5 am LOL) watching the whole thing with variying dregrees of interest.

Since Spanish MTV got virtually killed = confined to some pay TV channel last year (not a great loss), I had to rely entirely on the live stream provided by MTV's website... which turned out to be all for the better. Obviously, MTV doesn't live stream the actual ceremony (even though they display the footage in a small window on the corner of the screen with limted audio), but they do provide red carpet and backstage coverage for the whole ceremony, which, for me, was more than enough. This is actually the first thing I've seen MTV do right since I can remember, so kudos to them for that.

Getting to watch this stuff, in fact, was way more interesting than sitting through the whole sleep-inducing ceremony, and not getting to fully see (and hear) the performances and idiotic stunt-speeches was more a blessing than a loss. Even when the show gets boring as fuck (wich is most of the time), there's always something going on somewhere else; hundreds of people walking down the backstage corridors; crew members doing something (I was amused to see they had a crew guy down there who looked every bit like Steve Aoki LOL).

The live stream also offered an extended insight on what was going on at the front rows, which was beyond fascinating. It gave me the chance of experiencing the immense awkwardness of attending the VMAs first hand, and it even allowed me to see a tiny hint of humanity behind all those celebrity heads I keep trying so hard to understand.

Sitting in the audience at the VMAs is one of the most psychologically exhausting occupations ever. You never know when you are gonna be filmed, so you have to be self-conscious all the time; you can't stop acting, not even for a second. Yes, ladies and gentlemen: celebrities at the VMAs are ALWAYS acting. Whether they look bitter or bored or they seem to be having the time of their lives, it's ALL fake. And that's really hard to pull off. Imagine, having to sit there for more than two hours, forcing yourself to laugh or look bitchy (depending on your role), pretending to joke and have conversations with people you've never seen before and you don't give a shit aboug and singing along and dancing to songs you've just learnt and probably hate.

It's really weird how all the celebrities in attendance are forced to pretend they know each other and act like they are all friends, even though that's materially impossible... and unnecessary. All of a sudden, you see Sam Smith (WHO?) pretending to be friends with the Kardashians (???) or Rita Ora and Gwen Stefani exchanging hugs and laughing, like they don't want to kill each other. They all have to change seats constantly, making sure they all get photographed together in the most unlikely combinations.

I can't even imagine how stressful all that shit has to be.

The extended red carpet coverage also provided an insight on how ugly and unglamourous all red carpets and photocalls really are.

Most times, a red carpet is little more than a bunch of barriers placed at the entrance of a venue that's usually located in the middle of some ugly industrial complex, surrounded by a noisy crowd that, in the case with MTV, is made up entirely of professional fans instructed to squeal hysterically at anything that moves (they even got their own soundcheck before the celebrities started walking in, to make sure they were squealing in tune).

Celebrities are just lost puppies in the middle of a highway jammed with unstylish handlers and crew members. They are moved around like dolls, instructed on where to stand and for how long; they're told to smile, to turn around, which parts of their anatomy to put on display, depending on the commercial interests of their sponsor-owners... defnitely not a lifestyle I could envy, but they all seem to be thrilled about it for whatever reason.

Good for them.

Of course, making my way through the red carpet wasn't that easy because of the overall reigning chaos and the lack of proper indications... which was a real problem, since I had no fucking clue who most of those people were.

As usual, the musical (watch me laugh as I type this) crowd was dilluded by models, actresses, TV presenters, reality show starlets and all other representatives of the celebrity circus who don't even have to pretend to be singers to put on designer costumes (including the designers themselves)... which is what this whole awards thing is all about.

No Jersey Shore in sight, though. I'm impressed.

Obviously, Kim Kardashian (along with some of her fellow Ks) had to be there there, even though she didn't really seem to know why (Yeezus didn't even bother to come along) or care much about it. Being, as she is, something close to the most famous woman in the planet, it surprised me how little fuzz was generated around her presence. She walked in like everyone else, introduced Sam Smith's performance trying hard to repress her 'who the fuck is Sam Smith?' impulse (who the fuck is Sam Smith, by the way?) and then sat with the other Ks like none of it was a big deal.

No big deal indeed.

I won't even bother on commenting on how grotesque her appearance was, because that should be overwhelmingly obvious to anyone who's not blind. Same thing about Demi Lovato's cleavage... and those of so many others.



Rita Ora was a living wardrobe malfunction in a ridiculous red dress that looked like it was just a random piece of cheap cloth, poorly secured around her body with a tiny safety pin. I laughed so hard watching her struggling to keep her brief garment in place, engulfed in a fierce fight with the merciless California wind. This situation forced her to keep her hand on her crotch at all times, in an attempt to keep her modesty covered.

Man, that was hilarious.

The most hilarious malfunction of the evening, however, was Ke$ha - sorry, Kesha -, one of the latest broken toys of the hit industry. She was there in representation of a new talent show she was confined to after the industry declared her obsolete. Her hair was dyed in a washed-out rainbow hue (which, despite being very Californian, felt a bit odd) and her face looked weird and unrecognizable *again*... probably a side-effect of her latest trip to the filler injection clinic.

But the really funny thing about her were the intricate logistics of her dress: every time she wanted to make a step forwards, her long skirt had to be lifted up to her knees by two or three assistants, who then proceeded to walk her (I mean literaly walk her) to the next position. Oh, man. That was one hell of a show.

Unfortunately, the answer to why Kesha seemed to be unable to walk on her own is way beyond my intellectual abilities.

Taylor Swift wore a ridiculous jumpsuit that exposed half her buttocks when she walked, even though nobody seemed to mind. She also performed her brand new single, which is exactly as irrelevant and idiotic as her previous Doctor Luke and Shellback-driven songs . The former country singer has now completely embraced her role of europop diva, and she seems pretty happy about it... and so is the industry.

Pedophile icon Ariana Grande walked the red carpet wearing the sluttiest outfit I've seen in my entire life. It was so unacceptably indecent it made my skin crawl, and believe me when I say I rarely get scandalized about anything. That same costume would have been pretty harmless, if only she didn't look like a five year old girl with heavy make-up who has successfully disguised herself as a sex worker for Halloween. Ariana is perfectly aware of this, and she always does her best to play the sexy lolita, much to the delight of the perverted middle-aged managers, producers and execs ('perverted producers' - what a redundant concept LOL) who have ever had the pleasure of working with her.

I had my chance to enjoy her best lolita posing during one of the performances (the VIP seat cam was on her for the entire song). She was sitting on the first row, next to none other than her her God-manager, the Biebermeister, Psy-maker Scooter Braun. Of course, to everyone else who doesn't know the man, Scooter was just 'some guy'. His name wasn't mentioned anywhere, because the truly powerful guys are always invisible... unless they command otherwise.

But there he was, in all his glory, and I'll save the rest of my opinion to myself because writing it down would get me sued by the ADL.

Unfortuntately, stills from that wonderful moment are impossible to find, since none of this footage made it onto the actual show. Talk about the important guys being invisible...

Ariana, of course, kept throwing side-glances to the camera, whispering in Scooter's ear and naughtily playing with her hair, like good lolitas do. She had to touch her goddamn hair every five fucking seconds!!! Her attitude was so phony and arrogant it drove me out of my mind.

What a disgustingly self-consious bitch.

The amount of bitchiness that girl exhudes is only comparable to Taylor Swift. They should get them sitting together next time.

Amber Rose (does she have an occupation of some sort?) channeled Rose McGowan's iconic 1998 VMA look quite accurately, except for the fact that Rose was more naked, thinner (even though still quite curvy), and that Wiz Khalifa is definitely not Marilyn Manson. I guess going to an awards show almost completely naked has to feel a little less awkward when the guy next to you is covered head to toe in multicoloured animal print and has his face painted like a geisha. Not a look I picture on Wiz, who, quoting Celebitchy, just rolled out of bed and grabbed the nearest white t-shirt for the occasion. His look was light years away from his 2012 dandy ensemble, which, if you ask me, would have fit Amber's wardrobe choice much better than this lazy normcore thing. The two were so criminally mismatched they ruined any effect they could have caused.

Way to go, folks. Way to go.

Katy Perry was paying a bizarre tribute to the infamous all-denim mtching outfits Birtney Spears and Justin Timberlake wore to the AMAs back in 2001, accompanied by Riff Raff – this sort of white rapper guy who still lives in the Age of Kid Rock (at least, that gives his impersonation some sort of retro credibility) who has apparently been designated to play Katy Perry's boyfriend for a while... or whatever.

Wardrobe nostalgia seemed to be a recurring theme at these year's VMAs, which is probably another symptom of the fact that even MTV is starting to realize that the stupid shit they came up with ten years ago was still better than the stupid shit they don't come up with nowadays. Not that they care much, though.

Even Chris Brown's pre-VMA shooting party - oops, I mean party shooting - was a remake of a pre-VMA party Kanye West hosted in 2005.

I was honestly hoping that Chris would bring some of his shooter pals with him to the ceremony, but unfortunately, it didn't happen. That woud have been one hell of a stunt, if you ask me. Great way to spice up a dull awards show.

...just as dull as the brand new boring Nicki Minaj. Now that her industry-imposed Gagaisms have gone out of trend, she is finally free to fully embrace her natural hoodrat register. She no longer has to tell all that bullshit about how her Harajuku Barbie alter ego saved her life when she was a kid, or go everywhere wearing ridiculous wigs and crazy costumes, or pull weird cartoonish faces when she poses. Now she can fully concetrate on shooting sexy looks at the camera and invest her heart and soul into the exploitation of the racial stereotypes white people always get criticised for perpetuating... not that she didn't do that before.

Her solo Anaconda performance featured a nice amount of twerking, but it obviously failed to generate even a hundredth part of the scandal caused last year by Miley's twerkatorium, and the alleged wardrobe malfunction she suffered during Bang Bang (her collaborative single with Ariana Grande and Jessie J) wasn't even funny. 

Gwen Stefani, my all time favourite guerrilla marketer, turned up at the ceremony, much to my surprise. Just like Kesha Rose, she probably owes her presence there to her new job as a mentor (or thatever they call that shit) on The Voice, and she also used the chance to promote her clothing brand by wearing a Barbie-chic pink and black two-piece suit she allegedly designed a few years ago. Not great. Unfortunately, she didn't bring post-grunger husband Gavin Rossdale with her (even though he's employed on the talent show as well). Guess we'll have to wait till their next family outing.

Oh, and Snoop Dogg was also there too for some reason. Whatever.

Not less surprising was the presence of Wacklemore Macklemore's indie LGBT promise of two years ago, Mary Lambert. I remember her happy face last year when she signed a contract with Capitol Records (you have to be retarded to smile while getting signed to a major label LOL). Her career is still waiting for takeoff.

Re-emerging from her career coma and wrapped in a curtain she presumably lifted from her grandma's home, Jessie J made her appearance on the red carpet, proud as ever. Apparently, she's been given a second chance (in America!) by some mysterious industry godfather. She's been featured in a song that includes Nicki Minaj and Ariana Grande, and also doubles as a Beats by Dre commercial. That's the type of shit the industry does these days. Not that anyone cares much anyway.

Professional elevator fighter Solange sported what turned out to be the most decent outfit of the entire evening (thank you, dear), even though the reason behind her presence at the event was unclear. She was probably just sent over as an integral part of the Beyoncé-and-Jay-Z-are-divorcing-not-divorcing-who-could-possibly-even-give-a-shit drama. Who could possibly even give a shit.

Jordin Sparks and Jason Derülo (who knew they were a couple? Oh, wait a minute... who CARES?) did their best to channel Kimye (I swear to God I thought it was them when they first walked onto the red carpet)... even though her derriere is still far from being Kardashian size. 

Notably absent from the ceremony was the formerly ever-present Pharrell. It seems like his ride on the industry hype roller coaster is finally over. Now it's turn for him to sit back and wait till his mysterious industry godfathers allow him to take another go... if that ever happens.

Enjoy your descent to the abyss of post-hype irrelevance, Pharrell. Say hello to Bruno Mars whenever you get there.



Also on the down side of the hype curve, Miley Cyrus had to play a very uncomfortable role at this year's VMAs. It has to be tough to return to the scene of the Robin Thicke (RIP)-driven twerking scandal that turned you into one of the most talked-about people on the planet for a couple of weeks one year later, when the industry hype machine is no longer working for you, knowing that you won't be on the spotlight and will have to sit back and pretend to be shocked by someone else's stunts. In my opinion, it would have been wiser to just skip the ceremony, but naturally there was no way she could do that, because Terry Richardson had bought her himself an award for Video of the Year and somebody had to come and pick it up.

So, Miley put on a pair of extremely unflattering trash bag pants and an equally unflattering trash bag bandeau (everyone was wearing those goddamn things), tried to adopt her best 'I don't give a fuck' face, and humbly walked the red carpet with the stoical resignation of the precocious has-beens. It's not like she hasn't been there before.

In an attempt to make her appearance look less uninspired and grab some media attention while proving she is now a mature and sensible person, she accessorized herself with a mysterious young man who, we would later learn, was a representative of the homeless youth of America.

'That guy's a homeless?!' you'll ask yourself. Oh, yes - you're just getting it wrong. When you think about homeless as a concept, you probably picutre some old bum with long hair and a crazy unattended beard, dressed in dirty rags, smelling of booze and yelling incoherent stuff at passers-by. That certainly might be the way most homeless people look in the Western world, but this guy in not just any homeless guy - he's an LA homeless guy, and that's a completely different breed.

Every year, thousands of young men and women leave their homes following the neo-liberal (=neo-totalitary) slogans of fame and success, tirelessly dictated by the worldwide media, and find themselves in LA, with no place to go and no means of sustenance. They have to pay their cosmetic surgery and designer clothes by selling their bodies on the sordid streets of Hollywood, and sleep in the cars of minor industry agents in an attempt to get access to Bryan Singer's pool and, hopefully, land a minor role in some movie, TV show, advert, or just anything that will get them in front of a camera. That's one very tough life they have there. All my sympathy goes to them.

Kerli and Brian Ziff would most definitely show support for Miley's cause. 'There's a way out. guys. We just haven't found it yet.'

In a weird VMA plot twist, Miley sent her newfound best friend to collect her Terry Richardson's (a man who many of these young homeless LA people dream to get abused by) award, and perched herself on the side of the stage, putting her best acting skills to use (we already had a preview of that in her Wrecking Ball video) as she pretended to cry tears of deep emotion while her homeless buddy told the tragic story of his life, looking every bit as though he had spent all of it speaking in front of a camera.

There's no way Bryan Singer won't let him in now.

Another Hollywood happy end.

'This is just so touching'

The idea of sending a charity emissary to collect Terry Richardson's award, by the way, was also a remake of something Marlon Brando did at the Oscars in 1973, when he sent an Native American activist to speak in his place as a protest for the misrepresentation of Native Americans on film and television... with the difference that he actually rejected the award (even though he's still listed as its recipient). Can you reject an award and still win it? Kurt Cobain's dream come true. 

Continuing with my list of faded stars, I was extremely surprised to find Nick Jonas (from the defunct Jonas Brothers) sitting in the audience next to his miss girlfriend. His inexplicable presence seems to have been widely ignored by the media, which, on the other hand, is pretty understandable.  

Ah... what is life?

Wir sind'ne boygroup und gecasted sind wir auch
Und nächsten sommer lösen wir uns wieder auf
In vier klein träume an deiner wand
Und am nächsten morgen hast du die poster schon verbrannt
Und die nächsten in der hand

The life cycle of a boy band, as summed up by Tokio Hotel (so unfairly confined to the boy band cell), who sadly prophetized their own demise at the early age of fifteen: "We are a boy band picked by casting / And next summer we will split / In four small dreams hanging on your wall / And next morning you will have already burnt all the posters / With the next ones waiting in your hand".

It's been nine years since THEY (and not the bunch of creepy pedophiles who stole their autorship) wrote that song, and yet we're seeing it happening all over again.

Now that One Direction's glory days are officially over, there's already a new boy band (at least one new boy band) out there ready to take their place in the hearts of hte teenage girls who used to worship them. That boy band is 5 Seconds Of Summer (not to be confused with 30 Seconds To Mars or Eliott Sumner LOL), some sort of disgusting crossover between (obviously) 1D and a washed-out teenage version of Green Day. Unlike most other boy bands, these guys pretend to play actual instruments (Jonas Brothers style), and even try to display some sort of punk attitude, which makes the whole thing even worse. But that's not what (stupid) teenage girls think. These guys are currently enjoying a ride at the top of the industry hype wave, and their fan rate is sky high (believe me, I have reliable sources).

Ah...

When will the world listen to reason?
I have a feeling it'll be a long time

You were so right, The Offspring. You were so right.

Oh, and did anyone miss Lady Gaga?

Exactly. You've just made my point.

In general terms, this year's VMAs seemed to be more in line with previous editions, a nice change after the industry fireworks (or should I say Pharrellworks?) of last year. Something weird happened in the industry in 2013. For some reason, the Uni-Label (or should I say the fashion conglomerates?) seemed to have plenty of money to invest in a serious number of ambitious über-hyped releases: Timberlake, Daft Punk, Miley Cyrus, Robin Thicke (all strangely united by Pharrell), Eminem, Jay-Z (both strangely united by Rick Rubin), Beyoncé and, at a smaller scale, Katy Perry, Lady Gaga and Britney Spears. That was quite a lot of stuff, compared to the drought of previous years, and the 2013 VMAs (celebrated in the heart of Jay-Z kingdom a.k.a. Brooklyn) were a faithful reflection of that.

Fortunately for all us industry haters, this trend of relaunching established brands supported by huge sponsor-driven media hypes is apparently over, and the mainstream music market seems to have returned to the usual stagnation.

Thank God.

Once again, labels are relying on the cheapest form of promoting their artists: not doing it at all. They target their releases directly to their fan bases and don't even bother on buying them media presence - that's a job for the outside sponsors anyway. How many people out there ever heard of Iggy Azalea? How many people know the name of Ariana Grande's latest album? How many people give a shit about Nicki Minaj or Jessie J returning to the spotlight?

Nope.

Even Ed Sheeran, whose new album seemed to be aiming for a major scale promo campaign, has been quietly sitting in a corner for months, humming to himself or something. Guess he didn't choose the best time to jump on the Pharrell bandwagon.

The total lack of high profile releases in 2014 is best evidenced by Sam Smith.

Who the fuck is Sam Smith? Exactly: nobody even cares. Only on such a weak year for the industry could his presence have been so central to the event.

Let's pray for many more to come.

At this point, MTV awards have become so infinitely random and irrelevant that I don't even bother trying to learn who won what because who could possibly even give a shit. The categories are stupid, and the nominees are pretty much the same in all of them, so you know that, eventually, they'll all walk out with something. Or not. Or who could possibly even give a shit.

I only know that Katy Perry won the award for Best Female Video for her collaborative single with Juicy J (who the fuck is Juicy J and why the fuck is he not collaborating with Jessie J NOW?), and I'm quite surprised to see nobody really made fun at the fact that that technically made him the co-recipient of the Best Female Video award (or at least it should, since collaborative singles now count as chart entries for ALL the parties involved, my guess is it should be the same thing with awards, right?). Just another evidence of how stupid all these categories are.

I was much more surprised, though, to see people's outrage at Lorde's Royals winning in the Best Rock Video category (because MTV doesn't even bother on trying to pretend they care to take any actual rock bands in consideration, and I'm personally quite pleased with that). Turns out people still expect something from rock music, after all? Like they still consider, despite what Sell Out Boy says, that rock music does require some guitars in it? I can't even believe it. This could give me some renewed hope in humanity... if I hadn't promised myself I'll never ever ever allow myself to have hope in humanity again.

E V I L Lorde is back y'all

Of course, this also proves that people NEVER ever ever look at the charts, because, if they did, they would have known that Lorde has been charting on the Billboard rock chart ALL THIS FUCKING TIME, along with many other things that can by no means be considered rock either... like Birdy. But, apparently, people don't give a shit about Billboard these days, and that's good. Very good.

It's also curious to see how angry people are at this victory, compared to how little they seemed to care about Lorde performing with the original Nirvana line-up at their Rock And Roll Hall Of Fame induction ceremony. I personally find that to be much worse than winning an insignifficant MTV award, especially since Krist Novoselic and Dave Grohl pretty much validated her as a rock musician by covering her Royals single in the case of the former and by publicly praising her in the case of the latter (then again, we're talking about Dave Grohl). I'm still waiting for them to rush to their young friend's defense. They don't seem to be in a hurry, though... probably because they know that the audience has already forgotten that RRHOF ever happened.

Apparently, people don't give much of a shit about Nirvana being inducted into the hall either. That makes me sad and happy at the same time.

Guess I have a case of Kurt Cobain's dilemma.

The performances are not even worth commenting on. They were all exactly much the same as always: the same unoriginal idiotic pop songs, the same ridiculous dances, the same awlful live vocals helped by backing tapes nobody even tries to conceal anymore. 

90% of the artists to perfom turned out to be females (because Sam Smith doesn't really count as male, does he? Oh, wait a minute... who the fuck is Sam Smith?). There's nothing really relevant about that... it's just a random statistic.

In fact, the only real male to perform (because boy bands don't count as males either, do they?) was Usher, who put up a really boring performance I didn't pay much attention to. Nicki Minaj got on stage with him at some point for whatever reason, and I think he slapped her generous derriere, but nobody seems to be scandalized about it, so I guess they weren't perpetuating black racial stereotypes or anything like that.

He also grabbed a bass for a while, because everybody loves an electric guitar... as long as it's not plugged in.

Tell that to newcomer electro-popper Charli XCX, who performed at the pre-show backed by a three piece band (with a real drum kit and all! LMAO), or the good old Maroon 5.


They don't even have them in their new songs, but they still hold on to their guitars like it's the end of the world. They had a specially built stage in a parking lot outside the VMA venue, and we were unfortunate enough to witness a couple of their songs near the end of the show. Their live sound has always been terrible, and it's worsened a lot (even) since they've started playing their new shitty Doctor Luke material, which, like all hit songs, is written in the key of Auto-Tune - a range of sounds that's phisically impossible to replicate for humans.

Not only was the show short on gender diversity, but it was also pretty uniform in terms of musical genre. EDM (in the form of hit-maker DJs), rap (I mean the 2012 horrifyingly bleeped-out Lil Wayne perfomance style, because Iggy Azalea and Nicki Minaj don't really count as rap) and rock/pseudo-rock were all out of the list, leaving room only for classic R&B and generic pop... and boy bands. Personally, I see all this as yet another sign of the Apocalypse for the mainstream music industry. Their old formulas don't seem to be working too well, and they are not coming up with anything new.

Let's just hope they will maintain this dynamic.


Naturally, no VMA show would be complete without a few interludes of not-funny African American comedians making not-funny Kanye West jokes only other African Americans can understand... or not even. During these interludes, all the celebrities in attendance have to pretend to be amused and mildly outraged at the same time while the guy pokes fun at them, which is always fun to see, especially because, most of the time, they don't even seem to understand what the guy is actually saying. I don't blame them, though.

Thanks to the MTV backstage streaming, however, I didn't have to sit through that stuff, and instead had the chance to see Kim K's efforts to put up a bitchy face during a Kimye joke. For once, she managed to play the part.

Congratulations.

Jennifer Lopez was on camera 50% of the time during the whole show, and I'm not even sure about why. She was sitting in the first row, in one of those typical barely-there dresses (something like a silver trikini with an attached pareo), throwing superiority looks and behaving like she was the boss. Weird shit... but MTV knows better.

I think there was some stunt going on, involving her boyfriend/ex-boyfriend Casper Smart, but I didn't really get it. Because who could possibly even give a shit.

But aside from all this frivolous irrelevant shit, MTV kept trying to prove that they can also use their broadcast time for deep and meaningful purposes.

Rapper Common pronounced a heartfelt speech involving the racial riots in Ferguson and hip-hop's power as a 'tool of social change'. I can personally only see its power as a massive tool of difusion of a materialistic and sexist ghetto culture built around the one and only objective of achieving stereotypical milestones of success - mostly in the form of cash and bitches - in order to demonstrate one's superiority to others, that's deeply pro-system in its core and helps a great deal to validate the same neo-liberal myths of fame and success that get thousands of young kids to bend over at Bryan Singer's pool parties every day... as well as an excuse for the music industry to lower the cost and quality of mainstream pop music to unprecedented levels (mostly thanks to its simplistic and anti-creative sample-based nature - which makes it perfectly suitable for chain production) and a great channel for the promotion of all sorts of criminal activities.

But hey... I'm probably just a racist white bitch who perpetuates negative racial stereotypes, with no respect for or understanding of black culture, so don't mind my words.

'Hip-hop has definitely brought social change to my bank account'

There was also a tribute to Robin Williams squeezed somewhere in there... I didn't even notice LOL Apparently, it was a 23 second slideshow of pictures of the deceased actor with some Coldplay song playing in the background. Poor Robin... what did he do to deserve this? I mean, dude... a Coldplay song. Ugh.

The main subject of the night, however, was the cult of the Almighty Arse (which seems to be a disturbing new music and fashion industry trend). There were SO MANY generous female butts on display at the ceremony, in every possible state of dress and undress, it was really hard not to develop some sort of mysoginistic buttock-phobia.To Beyoncé, that shit might be the epitome of female emporwerment. I'd be more thrilled to see her husband shaking around in bulge-enhancing ballet dancer tights though. Oh, wait a minute... I definitely wouldn't.

I can't even say much about Beyoncé's show-closing extravaganza because I kept going in and out of sleep while watching it... pretty much like I did last year during Justin Timberlake's medley. It was SO FUCKING BORING. I hadn't even felt sleepy before before she walked on stage, but, as soon as her songs started to play, my brain shut itself down instantly, and I didn't recover until next morning. I opened my eyes once, and there were some boring pictures of her baby daughter projected on the screen (like WHO CARES); I opened my eyes again, and she was recreating her Partition video number; I opened my eyes once more, and she had FEMINIST written on the screen behind her for some reason; I opened my eyes one last time, and she was accepting her Video Vanguard Award and kissing Jay-Z. All boring like fucking hell. Even the audience was bored, and they didn't even try to hide it, aside from the occasional attempt at dancing and singing along when they were explicitly instucted to.

If Beyoncé and Justin Timberlake are the future legacy artists of my generation, then fuck my generation. Gangbang style. 

On this night of musical desolation, I kept myself sane by reciting the lyrics to Steel Panther's Death To All But Metal as a source of spiritual peace:

 Fuck the Goo Goo Dolls, they can suck my balls
They look like the dorks that hang out at the mall
 Eminem can suck it, so can Dr. Dre
They can suck each other, just because they're gay

They can suck a dick, they can lick a sack
Everybody shout, "Heavy metal's back!"

Death to all but metal
Death to all but metal
Death to all but metal

Death to Papa Roach, Blink 182
All those fucking pussies sounds like doggy-doo
Wearing baggy pants, spiking up their hair
They're not worth the crust on my underwear

Where is Def Leppard? Where is Mötley Crüe?
Why do all my lyrics sound like Dr. Seuss?

Death to all but metal
Death to all but metal
Death to all but metal

Kill those fucking fuckheads who program MTV
They can suck my ass with all the record companies

Death to Britney Spears, kill the little slut
Kill Madonna too and then fuck her in the butt
Fuck Mariah Carey, death to Sheryl Crow
They can kiss each other on their camel toe

50 Cent's a fag, so is Kanye West
Shooting hot sperm on each others' chest

Death to all but metal
Death to all but metal
Death to all but metal 

God bless you, Steel Panther, and thank you for writing the punkest song of the last decade.

The mental image of 50 Cent and Kanye will never go away.

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PS. Note how I've managed to keep this post 100% Alice free (well, 99% if you consider the EVIL Lorde artwork). Doesn't that get me an award for that or something? LOL

Since it doesn't, I'm gonna break the statistic and pay a little homage to Layne Staley - who would have turned 47 last Friday (the same day my fake Facebook self turned 27, based on a fake birthdate I selected at random four years ago - talk about weird shit LOL) if he was still alive - by remembering the time when MTV was a little more than a musical trashbin. Enjoy the contrast and let the Weltschmerz sink in.

 

Yes, this happened on MTV. Actually.

RIP, Layne. You haven't missed much.

Oh, and greetings from Jerry Cantrell's moonman.