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The critics have spoken!

"It's hard to believe that anyone could honestly deny the ass-kickingness of Boys and Girls in America, the band's strongest offering to date. From start to finish, the album is filled with monster melodies in the form of dramatic monologues and screeching instrumentals. Don't believe me? Try opener 'Stuck Between Stations' which pauses two-thirds of the way through for some Ben Folds-esque piano tomfoolery before launching into some of the most searing lead-guitar licks pretty much ever!" - Tiny Mix Tapes

"On several tracks, the swirls of organ they've added to their hyper-literate stomping suggest Deep Purple with a library card!" - Entertainment Weekly

"Any album that starts off with a quote from On the Road is gonna score some points with me!" - Delusions Of Adequacy

"Finn's critics could say—justifiably—that he's in a songwriting rut, but it's hard to complain when he comes up with lines like She was a damn good dancer / But she wasn't all that great of a girlfriend or I got really high and then I came to in the chill-out tent / They gave me oranges and cigarettes!" - The Onion

"Once again Finn has proven himself highly quotable and perhaps one of today's strongest lyricists -- there's a reason why critics like him so much!" - Prefix

"'First Night' finds ex-Blackgirls and current Dear Enemy singer Dana Kletter dueting with Finn in a theatrically appealing manner reminiscent of Meat Loaf and Ellen Foley, closing with the potent observation that 'when they kiss they spit white noise'!" - Shaking Through

"'Gonna walk around and drink some more,' he says, making it sound like the smartest thing ever said, so he decides to repeat it!" - Neumu

"says something worth hearing!" - Pitchfork

"talking more than singing!" - Blender

"Finn sings more than speaks!" - Pitchfork

"Finn has a nasal, assured bleat!" - Stylus

"His insanely verbose yarn-spinning still links 1973 Bruce Springsteen to 1982 Mark E. Smith; and his Minneapolis-via-Brooklyn band sounds beefier and more melodramatic than ever!" - Blender

"The gentler surroundings encourage Finn to calm down and sing with a lilt of compassion!" - Paste

"Lyrics can sometimes be summed up by lines that approximate the effect of a chorus, even if they're presented more like a thesis statement: 'I've had kisses that make Judas seem sincere,' 'When they kiss they spit white noise,' the aforementioned 'Gonna walk around and drink some more'...Unlike many of those who've translated big, arena-ready guitars into arena-sized audiences, Finn doesn't resort to confidently sung platitudes like 'It's a beautiful day!', 'Look at the stars/ See how they shine for you,' or 'I'm not OK!'" - Pitchfork

"Whenever I feel helpless about the U.S.A., frozen in my tracks like a first day intern thrown into a frantic emergency room, I turn to the one band who seem truly able to crack open up the chest cavity of this country in critical condition, examining its heart (and its liver), and stamp a big, bold 'ROCK ON!' across its unclean bill of health. And I think to myself: Hell yeah. The Hold Steady, you see, distill everything down its essence. What is important are the people right in front of them. What matters are the Boys and Girls in America. They are our target audience; they drive the economy; as our oldest children, they are our immediate future. Morbidly self-involved, they are also our cultural barometer!" - PopMatters

"Nothing stands in the way or looks down upon this simplicity; it is what it is and that's a truth reflective of Boys and Girls and the Hold Steady on the whole. This is nothing more than what It is. This is simply rock. But, It has the strength of that simplicity. It can stand up to anything. You bash against It, searching for weakness. You turn around, and turn It on again. This is as good as American Rock gets, and that's a damn good thing!" - Neumu.net

"The Hold Steady's brand of rock is far too literate and specific for the masses anyway! Boys and Girls in America is party music for the indie nerds, over-educated and obsessives!" - Prefix


"a combo that sounds like nothing so much as latter period Soul Asylum fronted by Charles Nelson Reilly!" - Can't Stop The Bleeding

Part of the reason I haven't been writing much on here the last few months is that I've being doing some freelance song doctor work with a variety of stars from yesterday, today and tomorrow, including Billy Idol (who qualifies as a star of both yesterday and tomorrow in my estimation, if not today). Billy decided to fill his upcoming Christmas album with seasonal chestnuts rather than the holiday-themed interpretations of his classics we spent the better part of September working on (thanks again to the good people at Sanctuary Records for releasing the album so soon after its admittedly spontaneous creation - Billy's a spur of the moment guy), but I figured I could share one of our more inspired collaborations with you all.

Jingle Bell (Jesus and Santa, I Praise Thee In Song)
written by Billy Idol, Anthony Miccio and Steve Stevens

Last night a little santa came dancin' to my door
Last night I found some presents were dumped on the floor
He said, "Come on, Rudolph! I get one night for love"
And if it expires, pray help from above

Because in the midnight hour, he cried "Ho! Ho! Ho!"
With a jingle bell, he cried "Ho! Ho! Ho!"
In the midnight hour, baby, "Ho! Ho! Ho!"
"Ho! Ho! Ho!"

He don't like the naughty, he will give them coal
But when there's milk and cookies, he'll eat his belly full
Who set you free and brought you to me, Santa?
Who set you free? Christianity!

Because in the midnight hour, he cried "Ho! Ho! Ho!"
With a jingle bell, he cried "Ho! Ho! Ho!"
In the midnight hour, baby, "Ho! Ho! Ho!"
"Ho! Ho! Ho!"

He lives in his frozen heaven
And works from seven to seven
Well, he's out all night in the Christmas air
To show that, to show that Jesus cares

Jesus gave his life for you, babe
Turned water to wine, for you
He'll dry your tears of pain
every time for you
I give my soul to you, Lord
Money to burn just for you
Jesus gives you all and will have none, babe
Lets-a-lets-a-lets-a-lets-a have some Christmas cheer!

Because in the midnight hour, he cried "Ho! Ho! Ho!"
With a jingle bell, he cried "Ho! Ho! Ho!"
In the midnight hour, baby, "Ho! Ho! Ho!"
"Ho! Ho! Ho!"

I may post "Ice Without Capades" on here closer to the actual holiday.
Acknowledging Christmas before Thanksgiving always strikes me as a bit tacky, no matter what J. Crew says, but I felt this was worth making an exception. Though I'll miss the potential royalties (who won't be bringing this album home for their favorite MILF this holiday season?), I don't begrudge the absence of my work on the final product. It may take three hours for Albini to finish placing the mics, but he only needs one take to capture some true Idolatry. Observe:



It was unusually warm in Chicago that night, but Billy gave us chills.

I remain fascinated by the ambitious and goofy.

For the first time in months, I actually wrote some music reviews: John Mayer and Diddy for the Baltimore City Paper's crazy-underrated music section. It's currently the only rag I'll allow my magic to grace*.

*still accepting offers, though.

Brandon Flowers making fun of Craig Finn, whether or not he knows it.

One reason I haven't been writing much is that I'm planning a year-end wrap-up that covers almost all of the albums that I've found worthy of acknowledgement. Another reason is the depressing lack of pop singles that I enjoy, or, more honestly, the lack of pop presences that I admire. The most egregiously failing genre is rock, and I say this as someone who can wax poetic about Good Charlotte and Puddle of Mudd. Emo currently lacks hooks or emotional pull, though I hope that will change with the increasing financial reward: Taking Back Sunday's "MakeDamnSure" and AFI's "Miss Murder" have the acts' first Weezer-worthy choruses, even if the songs are about wanting to see hotties suffer. Nu-metal's on its last hemorrhoid, and early-00s hipster crossovers seem to have mistaken a label-shat gold record for the pinnacle of stardom, getting insular before they've even learned to look directly into a camera. I haven't seen the soap operas Coldplayers are promoting, indie-stoner-"respectable" metal just makes me want to give my Blue Oyster Cult albums another go, and Good Charlotte's next album won't be coming out till 2007. If not for retro-goofballs like Eagles Of Death Metal and rule-proving indie exception the Thermals (whose albums seem like transmissions from a planet where the Clash is still remembered as a worthwhile influence), I'd only care about keyb freaks, singer-songwriters and the occasional sex jam. And the Killers.

It's too early to tell whether their attempt at rock grandeur will resonate, but if America decides Duran Duran shouldn't have teamed up with Meat Loaf to cover Rattle & Hum, I won't hold it against us; I haven't even decided myself whether Sam's Town's pleasures outweigh its bullshit. But my fondness for silly sweethearts helps make "When You Were Young" the only Big Rock Single of 2006 that I've got unabashed love for*.

One of the benefits of the Killers' 80s fixation is that when they decide to make a Springsteen move, they think Born In The U.S.A. rather than Born To Run, reining the soaring ambition with a steady pulse and some tight verse-chorus-verse. The song's gradual emotional build is blessedly free of the metal-riff lurchabout that plagues most modern rock - it's pro-dance and unafraid of simple euphoria. Lyrics like "we're burnin' down the highway skyline on the back of hurricane" are inarguably insipid (the back of a hurricane?), and "every once in a little while" is a grammatical war crime. I'm almost surprised Brandon Flowers didn't throw the word "literally" in front of one of his metaphors, as he transcends the sophomorical and dives headlong into the asinine. But what makes this idiocy preferable to the original '70s rock showtunery is the influence of U2. The post-punk (read: post-disco) rhythm decreases the sagginess of the bombast, while Brandon Flowers' melding of Bono and the Boss creates one of the hootable hollers in rock history. That Flowers can bellow such obvious camp with a straight face is almost miraculous, but then so is the existence of a sober Mormon Duranee in Las Vegas.

Free of the weight of cultural hosannas, his earnest wail is easy to love. For under the bells and warbles of "When You Were Young" is a song of joy for young Rosalita, who's finally found the saint in the city whose Chevy '59 is going to take her hungry heart down Thunder Road. Acknowledging romantic compromise without shedding a bit of emotional hysteria, it attempts to wed sensitivity and fireworks in a time where most groups are strictly either/or. If you accept that rock died in the mid-sixties (which I sometimes do), then that means some sinister monstrosity of pap has been pretending to the mantle for the last forty years, for longer than most of us have been alive. Right now, nobody's getting more out of that post-apocalyptic oatmeal than these guys.

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*Evanescence's "Call Me When You're Sober" could compete if the vocal was mixed to a clarity worthy of its title.

"Yeah, I'm from the illest part of the Western Hemisphere
So if you into sight seein', don't visit there
It's somewhere between Jersey and Delaware"

Game Theory has some fine beats, but even if I didn't live in south Philadelphia (in a neighborhood that's not unlike the original Wicker Man redone by the cast of Copland), I don't think I could get over that couplet. Black Thought is quite possibly the lamest bragger in rap, the embodiment of this town's Napoleon syndrome. "The Dalai Lama Of The Microphone"? What, powerless, boring and loved by college students? Until the Roots drop a concept album about cheating (the only topic that seems to remotely inspire BT) or replace this albatross (seriously, a rap group whose drummer is more famous than their vocalist? A rap group whose drummer is more quotable than their vocalist?), everybody's going to interview Ringo and remember nothing but the guest vocal hook.

One less rag worth reading.

Unless you really need that hundred bucks to feed your children and/or smack habit, with no other way to acquire it than to write a blurb about Musical Act X for one of the most offensively nihilistic companies in journalism, I don't know why the fuck you'd bother writing freelance for Lacey and the Nu-Voice Media (staffers have my pity). It can't be for the glamour, respect or financial reward.

10. Limp Bizkit feat. Eminem - "Turn Me Loose" (unreleased '90s track)


9. Fred Durst, Wes Scantlin and Jimmy Page - "Thank You" (live)


8. Limp Bizkit - "You Know You're Right" (live)


7. Fred Durst, Wes Borland and Johnny Rzeznik - "Wish You Were Here" (live)


6. Limp Bizkit - "1999" (live)


5. Christina Aguilera feat. Fred Durst - "Come On Over/Livin' It Up" (live)


4. Paris Hilton feat. Fred Durst - "It's A Tit Nipply Out" (live)


3. Fred Durst - "Demo Tape"


2. Fred Durst - "Eruption" (live)


1. Fred Durst - "I Melt With You"

What really gets me about the video for "Deja Vu" is that it's an all too rare example of the kind of bad that's only capable of being achieved by the great. Sophie Muller's my favorite video director of all time. As much as I enjoy Michel Gondry and Spike Jonze shenanigans, Muller's finest videos draw attention to the artist rather than the director, making appealing advertisements for the act rather than short films for their own eventual Director's Label DVD. From Annie Lennox to Gwen Stefani, from "Love Is Stronger Than Pride" to "Black Horse & The Cherry Tree," countless artists can credit Muller for their most memorable, endearing visual portraits. But here, she gives us a crystal vista of Beyonce at her most absurd and clueless. A weak video wouldn't be enough to inspire horrified fans to start an online petition demanding a re-shoot. Muller, Beyonce and the president of Island Def Jam have collaborated to make a video that's resolutely wrong-headed.

The first half-minute of the video is prologue, with Jay-Z sitting comfortably, flapping his wrist and lazily hollering as Beyonce's sweaty parts gradually merge into a whole. He announces she's about to speak, and Beyonce licks her fingers, jabs them at the camera and hisses to signify her heat. Seated in a variety of outfits and flapping her arms, her eyes aggresively fixate on something off-screen. As the verse continues, she begins to kick her feet while holding her quivering hands up to her face and jerking her head to and fro. These frenetic, artless gestures are commonplace post-Flashdance, but her wide-eyed expressions are psychotic rather than seductive in nature. She seems happier during the chorus, as she runs through high grass until she's alerted a foreign presence. This is revealed to be another Beyonce, now in a slinky red dress, holding her head and looking concerned, as if she can't tell if the noise is coming from inside her skull or not. Shots of Beyonce shaking the hem of a longer dress at the camera are intercut with these images of extreme paranoia.

Then things get really awkward. Beyonce is indoors again, with her hair pulled back, wearing a blue dress appropriate for an extra in a Baz Luhrmann pic. Breathing heavily and appearing exasperated, she finds Sean Carter, her alleged boyfriend, leaning against a wall, talking about himself to someone off-screen. She flutters her legs in front of a window before approaching him and popping some J-Lo aerobics against his crotch. After giving her ass a solitary pat, he continues talking to the person to his left, ignoring her bumping and grinding, turning his head away even as she bites his ear and yanks at his belt. It's as if they decided to visually display the same "he's great/Yes, I'm great" lyrical disconnect evident in the song "Crazy In Love," as well as evoke the titular romantic insanity.

Following this disconcerting metaphor for their sex life, we see her outside again in a bikini top and frilly mini-skirt, kicking dirt, offering some apropos-of-nothing West African dance and coming off like Shakira under attack by moths. The final chorus brings us Beyonce in a tight black ensemble, painfully underlining that if there was an actual choreographer used on this shoot, they should be drawn and quartered. She riffs on "Walk Like An Egyptian" and karate chops X's in the air before grabbing her left ankle, waiting a beat, throwing her hands in the air, and shrugging carefreely. This is intercut with flailings from previous locales, as if to reaffirm the improvisatory nature of her movements. Muller's close-ups and sense of staging benefit the graceful, but give us no distraction from Beyonce's conniptions or apparent lunacy (this is a woman who named her new album Bidet - sorry, B'Day).

In a very real sense, videos like this are so much more endearing than the unimaginative, mere competence that keeps me from ever considering writing a video column. Just as the clip for "Mr. Brightside," with its extreme close-ups and campy, emotional drive, saved Brandon Flowers and the boys from Kills/Thrills/Stills anonymity, the one for "Deja Vu" turns a passable retread of a song into a blatant career bellyflop, giving Beyonce something to overcome and keeping her fresh in the minds of her audience. It's the kind of heartwarming catastrophe that reminds me how philistine and misguided the concept of rating creative endeavors is - praising the mediocre over the extreme, despite the latter being more truly worth your attention.

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I've got a lot to say about the Killers' "When You Were Young," probably my favorite Big Rock Single of the year by depressing default, but I want to wait until the video comes out. It's being directed by Anthony Mandler, the man behind "Bucky Done Gun," "When I'm Gone" and "Hustler's Ambition." Jury's still out on this guy.

I can't be bothered to make a half-year top 50 singles list and my 20 albums are constantly in flux, so allow me to piggyback onto Matos' half-year mix meme.

If I Wanted To See Clerks II, I'd Look In A Mirror:
Jan-June 2006 CD-R

Mudhoney "Where Is The Future?" (5:38)
Eagles Of Death Metal "Shasta Beast" (2:28)
LL Cool J feat. Jennifer Lopez "Control Myself" (3:54)
E-40 feat. Keak Da Sneak "Tell Me When To Go" (4:03)
Tiga "Far From Home" (2:42)
Grandaddy "Elevate Myself" (3:41)
Ne-Yo "When You're Mad" (3:43)
H.I.M. "Wings Of A Butterfly" (3:30)
The Spores "(Don't) Kill Yourself" (3:36)
Blue October "Hate Me" (4:00)
Phoenix "Long Distance Call" (3:04)
Pussycat Dolls "Buttons" (3:45)
Be Your Own Pet "Wildcat!" (1:24)
Field Mob "At The Park" (3:40)
Tre 380 "Hokey Pokey" (4:36)
Juvenile feat. Lil Jon "Why Not" (2:45)
Gnarls Barkley "Crazy" (3:01)
Camera Obscura "Dory Previn" (4:16)
Eef Barzelay "N.M.A." (3:28)
Rainer Maria "Clear And True" (2:42)
Ghostface Killah "Underwater" (2:03)
K.T. Tunstall "Black Horse & The Cherry Tree" (2:51)
Black Eyed Peas "Pump It" (3:36)

They showed us a filmreel in 4th grade where skyscrapers blasted into space once Earth became inhospitable. Mudhoney and their horn section must have seen that one too, cuz they miss '60s futurism bad. Eagles Of Death Metal settle for earthly pleasures (falsetto, hitting on girls who still live with their parents, gregarious facial hair), which explains why their retro-clomp's a little more sprightly. LL's retro-clap revisits his "Goin' Back To Cali" vocal pacing with a self-parodying relish I won't begrudge (I've heard the rest of the album), and its highly possible the closing chant of "zun-zun-zun-zun-zun"s is a reference to a song I don't know (kudos if its a genuine original improv, though). E-40, whose KRS delivery - good way to convey authority without dropping energy - is refreshing, shares Bay Area street lingo for the first two thirds of his album, before repeatedly declaring that he doesn't love the many women who blow him. "Tell Me When To Go" is from the first third.

Tiga makes wry synth-pop covers of hipster memories (Public Enemy, Talking Heads), but "Far From Home" is an original collaboration with Soulwax that just sounds like one. Grandaddy's Jason Lyle makes wry synth-pop about how tired he is of making wry synth-pop, which may make Just Like The Fambly Cat his best album as long as its his last. Ne-Yo wrote a valentine about his addiction to angry sex, but satanic metal sexors H.I.M. won't settle for less than butterfly mutilation and your soul, while The Spores just want you to (not) kill yourself in their (not) fucked-up rewrite of "Since U Been Gone."

It wouldn't be a year in pop music if we didn't have a self-loathing power ballad, and Blue October opens "Hate Me" with an answering machine message from the singer's late mother, followed by an outpouring of gratitude and regret over the unconditional love he received while battling addiction, realizing the sacrifices she made for him; a three-hanky classic. The problem with the Strokes is they're not French enough, so God invented Phoenix. I haven't heard that new Beyonce single, but "Buttons" is "Naughty Girl" warmed over or heated up, depending on your perspective. Be Your Own Pet is like Love Is All in the sense that they've got enough energy and hook to make me dig their noisy tumbles when I'm in the mood to put up with inherently inchoate indie, but BYOP songs are shorter. Field Mob rewrite "Sugar (Gimme Some)" to further praise Georgia peaches, but their verse about food ("Got a plate of macaroni pork and beans and ribs/Two pieces of light bread/Kool-aid to sip") isn't metaphorical (I pray). The level of wit in Tre 380's rewrite of "Hokey Pokey" is well below metaphors, unless you count "lookin' for dat Monica Lewinsky."

Juvenile is one of a dozen plus competent rappers who are going gold (sometimes platinum) by describing their ability to stay the course, make money while staying true to the streets, and continue hustling (imagine Too Short as Ian MacKaye). I could have put T.I. on, but I thought King was disqualified by going multiplatinum (turns out it hasn't). Two-thirds of a classic soul song is three quarters more than we're used to, so thanks, Cee-Lo (fuck Dangermouse and his tepid, overrated, slapdash, two-decent-hooks-per-album career, though). Camera Obscura aint Belle & Sebastian's sidekicks no more - only the woman sings now and the band's beefed up the lush, giving her warm-blooded, literary ballads the backdrop they deserve. I have to find out if Eef Barzelay's band Clem Snide is worth a shit; his songs on Bitter Honey, less whimsical than John Prine's ("N.M.A." stands for "Nothing Means Anything") but not due to increased intelligence so much as generational temperment, hold up fine in skeletal solo arrangements.

Rainer Maria, who actually broke up without anyone noticing, came back with their hookiest album to date (guess what? only the woman sings now!), but nobody gave a shit because their old fanbase has graduated and didn't stay bright, burning, clear and true. Ghostface made another great Ghostface album this year, but my favorite track is the one where he turns into Prince Be. I liked the Sophie Muller video for "Black Horse & The Cherry Tree," but it wasn't until I saw KT's loop-happy one-woman band shtick on Leno that it got its hooks in (probably helped that she was following Ann Coulter). "Pump It" was in Best Buy ads in 2005, but the video didn't come out till December and I didn't revel in its inclusive glee (they're so good at that!) until February. "Pump It" is currently my Favorite Single Of 2006, which would seem to imply that nothing I've heard that actually dropped in the first six months of 2006 sounds better than the Black Eyed Peas doing the wop over "Misirlou."

You'd scroll through fields of Pin to read my solipsistic take on alternative rock. Thank you.

The countdown is over! Mazel tov! In closing, I'd like to address some false assumptions people may have made based upon the top ten over at modernrock4eva.

Myth: Jesus fucking christ, Anthony sure loves white rap!

Fact: There is only one white rapper in the top ten. While Evanesence sidekick Paul McCoy does sound like a constipated Nelly, he's no more rapping on "Bring Me To Life" than Nelly is on "Over & Over" (both are easily the oddest adult contemporary hits of the decade, by the way). Mike Shinoda, Rakim to Mr. Hahn's Eric B. in Linkin Park, is half-Japanese, while Sonny Sandoval, P.O.D.'s rapper/singer/yeller, is of Guamanian, Italian, Hawaiian, and Mexican descent (thank you, Wikipedia). Despite the connotations of his band's name, Doug Robb of Hoobastank does not rap and is half-Japanese. Robert Smith, Billie Joe Armstrong, the guy from Better From Ezra, Kurt Cobain and Bono also do not rap. The only white rapper in the top ten is Shifty. Send him a congratulatory message!

Myth: Anthony likes that Hoobastank piece of shit more than "Black" by Pearl Jam! More than that beautiful ballad by Candlebox or "Interstate Love Song!" WTF?!

Fact: While the above statement is true, you couldn't deduce that from the countdown, as none of the songs mentioned were #1 hits on the Billboard Modern Rock chart. Here are 25 non-#1 charting hits that would have definitely crashed the top 10, possibly topping "High," depending on what I had for dinner and how long it had been since I'd last had sex.

Frank Black, "Headache"
Blur, "Song 2"
Breeders, "Cannonball"
Counting Crows, "Mr. Jones"
Cure, "Love Song"
Elastica, "Stutter"
Erasure, "A Little Respect"
Gin Blossoms, "Hey Jealousy"
Harvey Danger, "Flagpole Sitta"
Limp Bizkit, "Nookie"
Morrissey, "Last Of The Famous International Playboys"
Nine Inch Nails, "Closer"
Pavement, "Cut Your Hair"
Pearl Jam, "Jeremy"
Liz Phair, "Supernova"
Queens Of The Stone Age, "Go With The Flow"
Rage Against The Machine, "Bulls On Parade"
Rancid, "Time Bomb"
Smashing Pumpkins, "Tonight, Tonight"
Sonic Youth, "Kool Thing"
Sugar, "Your Favorite Thing"
Teenage Fanclub, "The Concept"
They Might Be Giants, "Birdhouse In Your Soul"
Vines, "Get Free"
Weezer, "Buddy Holly"

You might be wondering if any of 2006's #1s to date would have rated highly on the chart if they were eligible. Pearl Jam's incoherent but spirited "World Wide Suicide" would have fit in between "My Sister" and "Policy Of Truth" at #107.5, with Weezer's melodic but insipid "Perfect Situation" almost ten spots lower and the inescapable oatmeal that is "Dani California" resting down in the 170s, so the answer is no.

What Modern Rock hits would you say are more awesome than all the alt-ditties America pushed to #1? Which singles have I and this country robbed?

Random notes

1. I'd like "Promiscuous" a lot more if Furtado's verse vocal didn't make me think about how much I'd rather be listening to LL's "Doin' It." Despite their obvious craft, there's something about both her singles that leaves me a little cold.

2. The ad where the Fruits Of The Loom pretend they're Coldplay is kind of the most wonderful thing I've seen on TV all year.

3. I don't miss writing freelance.

4. I do miss the relationship I had with pop singles when I'd listen to the radio a lot - I liked the sense of common experience I don't get from the net and videos are a really tainted way of experiencing songs. I like not having my ears strapped to a discman every time I step outside even more, though.

5. I still have a Top Ten Singles Of 2006 (So Far):

Black Eyed Peas "Pump It"
E-40 "Tell Me When To Go"
Busta Rhymes "Touch It"
Pussycat Dolls "Buttons"
Kelly Clarkson "Walk Away"
Gnarls Barkley "Crazy"
LL Cool J feat. Jennifer Lopez "Control Myself"
Ne-Yo "When You're Mad"
Shakira feat. Wyclef Jean "Hips Don't Lie"
Eagles Of Death Metal "I Want You So Hard (Boy's Bad News)"

Top 5 imdb user reviews for Get Rich And Die Trying:

5. I hope that the right people get a hold of the comments I'm about to make. Motion pictures still have the ability to be used as an art form that can be a medium of effective communication. As a culture have we forgotten how to use gifts and talent? As a nation (USA) have we decided that freedom means that "gangsters' can pimp the arts with money and influence? Let's face it, music, TV and motion pictures are the hallmark of artistry in our world. And, at the same time the abuse of these mediums has caused talent and gifts to be eroded from the next generation. There is pot of gold in our youth and young adults that executives and media directors have a MORAL and CULTURAL obligation to ensure art is not bastardized for profit. Mr. Jackson (50 Cents) is just one of the many symptoms of what we are becoming as a people, a cancer. As an American of African heritage I feel a burden for my peers of caucasion ethnicity, please don't "help" black people by lavishing wealth and opportunity on the loudest, most threatening and menacing people in our communities. Say "no" to the next 50 Cent, no to his music, his "acting," and his abuse of 1st Amendment rights. Lets send a message as leaders in media that everything isn't acceptable. Lets educate people to what is good, positive, life affirming and yes creative as well. Lets fund and support education in the arts and create new industries starting in the places with the least opportunity and hope. Art can be made in the hood, but its born from the Heart.

With great power comes great responsibility. -Stan Lee

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4. The movie was full of action. There were no dull moments. Throughout the whole movie I was wondering whats going to happen next and who is doing this and who is doing that. I must say that this is a very good movie in my opinion. Before I saw the movie I didn't even really like 50 cent due to his attitude, but his acting was good the movie was very well put together. I cant lie I might just go see that again. At least I know once it go to video I will pick it up. For the ladies yall gon enjoy 3 parts cause all ima say is naked lol i give it a 10 because I wasn't expecting it to be halfway decent and it was actually good I just cant hate. Most people may give it a 5 and up but there's nothing awful about it unless u as a person don't like anything dramatic, action packed, and real

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3. "Hi my name is - Who? - My name is - What? - My name's Cheeky Cheeky Slim Shady!" Cheeky Cheeky Slim Shady there with the song that kick-started the whole rap music scene! Little did Cheeky Slim know that his jolly, upbeat, life affirming music would pave the way for a more sinister type of rapping… Slim Shady and his cheery tunes were soon pushed aside in favour of ruder artists like Marshall Mathers or the despicable Eminem. These didn't want to rap about saying hello and explaining what their name is anymore, they wanted to rap about guns and drugs, and pimps and hoes. And drugged up pimps with gun-toting hoes, who drug their clients and then force them at gunpoint to ho themselves to pimps. For drugs.

Now it seems that every new rappist feels that he has to outdo the last in a bid to be ever more offensive, cramming profanities into every song like a pimp with a gun cramming drugs into a ho. The latest young man to try his hand at profanity cramming is one 50 cent, a man who raps harder than an Elf at Christmas. 50 cent is so called because he was kidnapped as a small child, but was so unloved by his family that the abductors were only able to ask for a ransom of half a dollar. Now Fifty has taken his tragic upbringing and transformed it into a hit movie, Get Killed Or Die Trying'! In Get Killed Or Try Dyin' Fifty plays a young man who has to find a way to escape a life on the streets in America! Life on the street isn't easy, believe me, I know. I have to walk past homeless people every day. Well, I tend to jog past. Even though I cross to the other side of the road so that I don't have to smell them, I can still see that they have it pretty tough. When I say that I can 'see' that they have it tough, it's not strictly true, because I try not to look directly at the homeless. It's depressing, isn't it? Nevertheless, I can perceive out of the corner of my eye that they have it tough. I suppose that technically all they have to do is sit there, so it's not tough in any obvious way, but I'm confident that it's tough in theory.

Movies have taught me that there are only three possible career choices for a young black man on the streets of America, drug dealer, ho pimper, or word… rapper. Each choice presents its share of problems. Drug dealing is hard. Getting up every morning, reading the scruffy handwriting on all those prescriptions, weighing out exactly the right amount of pills, putting them into those tiny little bottles that have the caps that are really difficult to get off, advising people about what kind of tissues are best. The life of a drug dealer isn't one that I would wish on anyone. Similarly pimping is no walk in the park either. Unless your hoes work in and around a park. Finally we have the life of a millionaire rap 'musician'. Do you think it's easy to be a rapper? Just because it's easy to swear, and easy to do things in time to music, you think it's easy to SWEAR IN TIME TO MUSIC? Is that what you think?! Well you're right, that's why it's easier to be a rapper than a pimp or a drug dealer.

The real trick to being a rap star is to make sure that a lot of bad things happen to you. Get Killed Or Get Rich Trying' follow Fifty as he embarks on his quest to have lots of things happen to him that make him really angry. Once Fifty has been involved in enough anger-causing incidents, he will be able to write raps about them and escape his life on the street, but can he do so before someone 'pops a cap up his ass'? Or shoots him? You'll have to watch the incredible Get Rich Quick Or Your Money Back to find out!

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2. Look man ... I'm from Romania .. yeah .. I know you don't care .. but listen to this...

My English may be bad ... but ...

It's VERY hard to make a movie of someone's life and try not to modify the truth too much. In my opinion that 8 mile movie is NO better than this movie.

50 had a hard time ... and you're saying this movie is bad?? That's his life.Don't you get it? Tell me .. what great things did you do in YOUR life??

What are you doing with your life that's SO great ?? huhh?? Send me an email and tell me.My address is skynetspy@yahoo.com

Word up all

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1. Is this not the kind of art written by the bourgeoisie between the entrée and pudding? Imagine a film that shows 50 cent as a hero, a sensitive man. Imagine violent criminals breaking into diatribes declaring their manly love and respect for each other. Imagine what it must be like to not be able to read or write, and have friends like this man.

Fortunately, I don't have to. Instead I can gladly submit to this effective marketing tool. I'm glad to have brought him a burger through watching this film.

Do you want to see what an average film is like? Watch this, and appreciate how good an average film actually is.

Anybody know why Buckcherry has been hovering near the bottom of the Billboard album chart's top 50, where the album debuted, for nine weeks? Never drops down, never rises, it just stays there...x number of people buy the new Buckcherry album every week. The reunion album by Buckcherry. It's creepy! Is their non-delightful new single "Crazy Bitch" in a TV ad? At least I can write off the enduring top 10 pop success of "Dani California" as some kind of embarassing digital download quirk.

Attention, fellow Scrawl fans! Somewhere to go next time you're stuck in the middle of Ohio.

The Last.Fm "Last Week" Top Ten Round-Up

1. Ghostface
If my enthusiasm for Fishscale is rather muted, it's because I finally checked out Ironman and Supreme Clientele, making Fishscale my fourth favorite Ghostface album. And who knows, maybe Bulletproof Wallets is better too. I can't join the Tony Starks cult, in part because his hooks tend to reach me before he does, but they reach me pretty quickly.

2. Bowling For Soup
Are Good Charlotte still my favorite pop-punk band of the decade, or have BFS taken the crown? Their next releases will decide for sure. The drama...

3. Jay-Z
I'm all about '90s NYC debut rap albums right now. Illmatic, Ironman, Reasonable Doubt, It's Dark And Hell Is Hot...missed them at the time - none released on Matador.

4. Tarkio
My tags say Tariko, but accoring to google they're called Tarkio! The system is flawed.

5. Madonna
She has enough great songs to make a decent box set, but the only full-length I truly enjoy is You Can Dance! Most album filler is intolerable and the hits comps are flawed. I'm making a 2CD-R comp for my own pleasure soon, feel free to recommend some album tracks that deserve attention.

6. The Go-Betweens
I didn't actually check out Oceans Apart until a month or two before McLennan's death. The only band I can think of who were actually better when they re-united than beforehand.

7. Amadou & Mariam
Some awful, ignorant articles about this duo came out recently, and I don't feel like throwing more bwana asshattery out there (the words "Manu" and "Chao" appear on all the "world music" I own). Hear Dimanche A Bamako, though.

8. Mogwai
It's been a good year for indie bands I never gave a shit about before. Debating revisiting Young Team, but nothing on the albums that followed led me to believe I'd enjoy Mr. Beast as much as I do. I wonder if they were in danger of having to lower their gaurantee or something.

9. Phoenix
I can't believe I'm actually enjoying a continental European rock band!

10. Sia
I'd say more, but I'm late for an Ikea run...

If I'm going to have a comments box, I might as well employ it: Do you have a FAVORITE single or album from this year yet? I'm not talking some by-default choice, I'm talking a non-reissue 2006 release that you treasure. I've got plenty of likes (I'll be doing a first half of 2006 round-up eventually), but little in the way of loves. Is anything seriously floating people's boats right now?

You know what else is back? The song stylings of Eamon! The new single, "(How Could You) Bring Him Home," is disappointingly curse-free, but he does reference Maroon 5 in the first verse. I anxiously await the video.

In case you've forgotten his comically cancerous cojones, someone's put up the UNEDITED version of "Fuck It (I Don't Want You Back)"...



And dig this, a remix of the smugger-than-smug "I Love Them Ho's/Girl Act Right" featuring...GHOSTFACE!



He's back! He's baaaack!

The comments box is back, due to what passes for popular demand around here (still working out the kinks, though). I prefer e-mail correspondence, where nobody can embarrass you by publicly pointing out your dumbass statements or by making their own, but the people have spoken, and I will appease them...for now.

"Last Week" Last.fm Round-up

1. The Clean
Why the hell did they put such awful rarities at the end of Disc 2 of Anthology? Totally fucks up the listenability. Completists bite hard.

2. Band Of Horses
A Flaming Lips I can respect! More later.

3. Bowling For Soup
Not just Fountains Of Wayne Meets Blink-182, but the Sell-Out NOFX as well.

4. Eric B. & Rakim
I love the hits, but I'm never totally sure why he's "the best rapper ever," aside from "purity" (do these people hate pizza toppings?).

5. Big Daddy Kane

He looks like he's freezing!

6. Tariko
Still haven't listened to the Decemberists yet. I'm lazy.

7. Jon Auer
The ex-Posie's In The Year Of Our Demise is chock full of overwraught and lyrically ridiculous yet melodically outstanding romantic alternapop. In the days of virginal Greg Dulli worship, it would be my favorite album of the year. Five stars! WHAT WOULD BE ON THE RADIO IF PEOPLE HAD A CLUE!

8. The M's
I still haven't thought of anything more than the phrase "avant-glam" in regards to these chaps. Maybe I need to read a press bio.

9. Death From Above 1979
The lyrics are still lame, but that remix album eliminates the monochromatic quality of the original release - ironically more listenable despite the multiple appearances of the same original track. Some of these technified versions sound like an enjoyable "future of rock" - if they didn't espouse such boring dickery, they'd be right up there with Linkin Park in my esteem.

10. DMX
Turns out Fred Durst circa Chocolate Starfish was totally jacking his flow!

Being American big budget films involving superheroes and Halle Berry, they aren't without their flaws, but those X-Men movies get me in the gut. Dynamic young people with amazing abilities deciding which aging British fop to line up behind, whether to defend America or punish its citizens for their ignorant, unsympathetic fear. The mixture of adolescent "gifted" frustration and apocalyptic bombast is immensely satisfying; with our government using gays & mexicans as objects of fear now that the "terrorist" threat is no longer effective, watching a technicolor battle over faith in humanity strikes me as very cathartic. The new film is breezier - Brett Ratner, duh - but the template remains effective and the visuals may be the grandest yet. I could write a longer post with observations like "Shadowcat had better chemistry with Iceman than Rogue did," but I'll save that shit for conversations with friends who share the same mixture of appreciation and mild embarassment. One thing: I have nothing but the highest respect for Hugh Jackman (I actually think he should have gotten a Best Supporting Actor nomination for one of the earlier flicks), which leads me to believe that no actor could pull off saying "way to go, Furball" to a television set.