I would like to thank the Academy for giving us over three hours of feigned looks of surprise, several hours of fashion analysis, vapid commentary from individuals who will never be nominated for an Oscar, the hope that "someday it'll be me up there," and yet another reason to drink on a Sunday afternoon.
So, my obsession with the "We Are the World" remake is finally waning. While I spent a good 24 hours attempting to distinguish who's who on the track after purchasing it on iTunes (my first charitable donation of the year) - and before I watched the star-studded video - a few thoughts popped into my head:
1. Justin Bieber shouldn't have opened the song. I'm sure Lionel Ritchie & Co thought it was good idea to immediately hook in the 15-year-old girls with this tease, but it just wasn't the proper note on which to start such an epic number. It's like asking Abigail Breslin to read the opening to War and Peace.
2. Upon her return to the recording studio after several years, I could sense Barbra Streisand's frustration over her unmet expectations: "You expect me to sing less than 20 words? I could belch out the lyrics to 'Hello Dolly,' and it would be better produced."
3. Enrique Iglesias? Still can't sing.
4. The filter placed on Janet Jackson's vocal made her come off as some Xanax-dazed ghost. It was like the audio equivalent of Cybil Shepherd's soft lighting in any given scene on Moonlighting.
5. Pink could have sung the entire thing for all I care. The woman has never sounded better.
6. Note to Jamie Foxx: Congrats on the Oscar and all, but Ray was nearly 5 years ago. Did you not get the memo?
7. Wyclef Jean: Fail. Twice.
8. Kanye West seemed like easy listening after tolerating that hip-hop portion conducted by Mr. I-Sold-Out-the-Black-Eyed-Peas will.i.am.
9. Notably absent vocals (or perhaps my ears have failed me): Faith Evans, Harry Connick Jr., Jason Mraz, et al. And Tina Turner, where you at?
10. It seems to me that Celine Dion was singing an entirely different song. Either that, or she totally dominated and made that song her bitch.
11. One country star showcased out of the whole bunch? Really? Carrie Underwood's handlers must be piiiiiiissed.
12. Miley Cyrus actually didn't suck. And on that note, notice how none of the Jonas Brothers were featured.
Believe or not, I actually dug the new song. RedOne did an admirable job composing the new rendition, and it provided a heavy dose of childhood flashbacks for me. I remember my mom constantly playing the original "We Are the World" on a vinyl record (kids, Wikipedia that term) when I was in kindergarten. Back then the music had put a spell on me. Listening to all of those voices, a choir of celebs, seemed like magic, as if the world really was singing. Every time it played I imagined the world - the actual planet Earth - shining brighter, becoming a happier place, improving. I would take in the melodies, bob my head to the subtle rhythm and then proceed to focus on racing my Hot Wheels across the kitchen floor. Now, in 2010, it's a small miracle if those feelings last until the next traffic light while I'm racing my Ford down Westwood Boulevard.
If you're still jonesing to make a donation, go to world25.org.
And in case you missed it:
I remember when Natalie and Tootie had a double wedding. I remember when Blanche was accused of stabbing a lover to death during a murder-mystery weekend. I remember Harry Weston's unconditional love for Dreyfus. I remember Sandra always trying to pull Mary into some neighborhood scheme.
I remember Saturday nights in a way no one born after 1990 can remember. From the mid-80s to the early 90s, I, along with millions of others, actually stayed home on Saturday nights and fell in love with the aforementioned characters. The Facts of Life. The Golden Girls. Amen. 227. Empty Nest. The short-lived Nurses (anyone?). Even Mad About You got its start on this comedy block.
Then, naturally, came the revolving door of 10pm dramas. First there was Hunter, then Sisters, then The Pretender (a Mom favorite). And of course, Profiler (poor Jamie Luner jumped off Melrose to land on another sinking ship). I never stayed up to watch a full episode of either of these shows. My normal routine would consist of catching the theme song to Hunter or the opening steambath conversations on Sisters and then heading off to bed (Saturday Night Live didn't land on my schedule until I was 12 or 13).
Later on, I'd stay up when Winnetka Road premiered, an easily forgotten Aaron Spelling sudser about the dramas in a Midwestern burb...co-starring Ed Begley Jr.. Needless to say, snooze.
Why did so many of us stay home on the busiest night of the weekend? I don't think it was an age thing, although my social calendar was rarely full between the ages of 8 and 14. Did people actually go out without the comforting reassurances of a DVR? Sure, there were VCRs, but ratings back then amounted to actual, watch-it-now audiences. If so many people stayed home to hear Rose Nylund tell another St. Olaf story, who was out at the bars, the nightclubs, the restaurants, the multiplexes?
What happened since then? Lots of things actually, probably enough to fill an entire thesis paper on The Evolution of Television Programming - more than I could fit here in this little post. The Saturday night television landscape, as we all know, is a ghost town now. It's where networks regurgitate last week's episodes, air broadcast premieres of movies no one cares about, and send struggling reality shows to die. Is there nothing that can be developed to appeal to a Saturday night crowd that stays home during primetime hours? Are we a couch potato nation so distracted by cable and the Internet (and everything else) that launching an original scripted series on Saturday night would be considered a ginormous risk, a near death sentence? The odds are heavily against any new show that dares to be slotted here.
I feel sorry for the Saturday night timeslots. They're endangered, neglected, and they need our support. I truly believe we've all become conditioned to think certain nights of TV require certain kinds of programming. And that's what it is really. Programming. Shows aren't programmed; we are. It's as if we've become programmed to believe that Thursday nights are meant for "quality" dramas. Wednesdays are meant for comedies. Tuesdays belong to a mediocre mix. Mondays are for reality, forcing us to look at our own lives and be thankful they're not as pathetic as every narcissist who competes for a rose, gets into a bar brawl or has sex in a hot tub. And Sundays are for comfort-food viewing, shows that help us ease back into the much dreaded work week. As for Fridays? That's another night gradually going the Saturday night route...Where the sitcoms at? And c'mon, do you know anyone who still watches The Ghost Whisperer or Numb3rs? And yes, I just numerically wrote out the name of that show.
But maybe we're not programmed at all. With viewers gaining more control over how and when they watch their favorite shows, networks execs might as well slot their programs with a blindfold for all we care. If it's good, we're going to watch. On our iPods. On Hulu. On DVD...We're ultimately the ones in control. Right?
H.P.M.
When you think of Tokyo, images of neon signs, bicycling commuters and crowded streets may come to mind, bringing up an urge to rent Lost in Translation. I haven't visited Japan's capital in over 5 years, but I do remember that it's roughly the size of 4 Manhattans squished together - with opposite-side driving. Pretty intense.
Tokyo Nobody is a book exhibiting the work of Japanese photographer Masataka Nakano. All of his photos are taken in and around Tokyo, the key point being that not one person can be seen in any of them. It's definitely an interesting sight to see some major areas of the world's largest metropolis in such an unusual and eerie state. There's one shot of a carless highway running through a downtown sector that would look great above my living room couch. Just saying.
I'm kinda jonesing for a mini Felicity marathon. I don't know if it's the reruns of old WB shows that play on TNT at the gym every morning, but I've developed a longing to revisit that whispered dialogue, that acoustic soundtrack and one of my all-time favorite television ensembles.
The man to the left, illustrated so colorfully on his latest piece of work, which comes out today, is one of my favorite musicians of all-time. I've waited a long time for this album to come out, his first collection of artist collaborations in nearly seven years (2006's This Binary Universe didn't really count as it was more of an experiment in ambient orchestrations). BT (a.k.a. Brian Transeau) is one of maybe four artists whose albums I'll buy regardless of reviews - on an actual CD.
In addition to this smile-inducing release, today is also the day Oscar nominations are announced. It's the gunshot that kicks off a race meticulously observed by anyone and everyone in this town.
And if that wasn't enough, tonight marks the final season premiere of Lost, a show that will go down in history as one of the best and most influential dramas to grace the small screen.
I may need to be pinched.
H.P.M.
A little bit late into the new year, but nonetheless...
After listing all of the individual tracks that have thoroughly entertained me and left an imprint on my life during the last 10 years, I realized I had to take a look at the albums I continually set on repeat. And since this past decade was what I consider The Beginning of the End of the Album, it was somewhat of a challenge to find discs I owned that stood out as complete, rich pieces of work. After all, we now live in the Age of the Single where it's all about how many hits you can get on the radio and how many digital copies you can sell on iTunes. And ask yourself this: How often do you buy an actual album on which every single track is just as awesome as the next, not a single filler song tempting you to press that skip button?
These are my top 10 from the last 10 years, albums that, I believe, have wonderfully encapsulated the 2000s. While I've offered my reasons for their sheer brilliance and enjoyability, I have also noted some personal significance they hold. Because after all, only you can be the music supervisor of the soundtrack to your life...
1. Movement in Still Life by BT (2000) - Years before the BEPs "Boom Boom Pow"ed themselves to the top of the charts and every other pop star discovered the "futuristic" sound of Auto-Tune, Brian Transeau - once known as the Godfather of Trance - produced his third album which, in retrospect, was ahead of its time. His velvety take on trance techno, typified by unusually light, liquidy melodies, smooth edges, and roomy breakbeats, became what all wise artists wish their music could be - transcendent. BT's dense, yet straightforward compositions and benevolent mixes incorporated themes of escape and rebirth, with songs that continue to leave an imprint on the subconscious. With this album he broke through the wall that separated techno from pop-rock, showing us that he was capable of branching into different styles. Rife with vocal collaborations that expose his influences and bend them toward his unique perceptions of song structure and sonic parity, his tracks also feature his signature stutter edits created by software he himself created. By consistently balancing creative and memorable songwriting, sonic innovation and the latest technology for a cutting-edge yet organic sound, BT has proven that he is a true revolutionary artist.
2. A Rush of Blood to the Head by Coldplay (2002) - A second album that improved upon the first and thrust its band into the global spotlight, Rush is one of the few rock albums to have been embraced by fans (and fellow artists) of all genres. Justin Timberlake claimed to have jammed to "Clocks" during late-night drives in his car. Kanye West was known to have dug Chris Martin's emotional yet non-whiny delivery (hence why he probably chose the fair-haired Brit to join him on 2007's "Homecoming"). This album never showed any signs of leaving the top of the charts either because everyone and their mother (literally) felt as if they had discovered a band worthy of being called The Heirs to U2 (a ballsy title to give, no doubt). The album is still a soulful, exhilarating journey, moving from the cathartic rock of "Politik" to the hushed tones of "Green Eyes" without once breaking its mesmerizing spell. The vocals soar, reaching places only Jeff Buckley previously dared to go. And the music is nearly flawless, a persuasive cross between Pink Floyd and the Verve - at times moody, other times inspirational. In a word: exquisite.
3. Room for Squares by John Mayer (2001) - Just when boy bands were starting to become irrelevant, this 24-year-old singer-songwriter seemed to have come out of nowhere. With Abercrombie looks and a Dave Matthews-like delivery, he was the perfect idol for college coeds who sought an alternative to the frosted-tipped crooners who once covered their bedroom walls in high school. But upon closer inspection of his music, one could make a surprising discovery: the dude's an old soul - with legit talent. With singles like "Why Georgia," which coined the term quarter-life crisis, and "No Such Thing," which inspired many to tap into their potential and carve out a path of their own, Mayer spoke to a generation that was afraid to "stay inside the lines" during a time when Terror - the news topic du jour - had a vise-grip on their hopes and dreams. 
4. Under the Iron Sea by Keane (2006) - This British trio came onto the scene in 2004 with their debut, Hopes and Fears, and their sophomore effort proved that they were not just another Radiohead clone. Pianist Tim Rice-Oxley, lead vocalist Tom Chaplin and drummer Richard Hughes helped elevate the sub-genre of piano-rock to a whole new level, delivering dreamy soundscapes ("A Bad Dream"), gothic choruses ("Atlantic") and pedal-driven distortions ("Is It Any Wonder?") that all conspired to create a truly progressive album.
5. Stripped by Christina Aguilera (2002) - Consider this album a victim of hypocrisy. The disc's first single (and polarizing video), "Dirrty," was considered a slap in the face to pop fans, a wake-up call to show everyone that a dainty little pop princess - with the help of some assless chaps, a boxing ring and a guest rapper - can pull a 360 and raise the bar for hip-hop/pop hybrids. Hard-hitting and jarring it certainly was. And there's a reason why clubs still blare it today: it's one helluva track to grind to. But the immediate criticism back then had been harsh ("She's trying too hard!" Who does she think she is?" "Reeks of desperation!"). It was easy to dismiss Miss Genie in a Bottle as a lame attention whore (or just plain whore), but then came the other singles: "Beautiful" proved to be just that, a powerful and timeless Grammy-winning ballad - with a universal message no less! "Fighter" entered the rock arena as a fierce I'm-Not-Gonna-Take-It-Anymore exclamation years before Kelly Clarkson "could breathe for the first time." It's also when Christina entered her Dark Phase, dying her hair black (gasp!) and revealing to us all that she had survived some family drama as a little girl, one of the first pop stars of the new millennium to bravely dig deep and parade around those closet-dwelling skeletons for the world to see. Overall, the album may have been guilty of being schizophrenic with its mix of seductive slow-jams ("Get Mine, Get Yours," "Walk Away") and uplifting anthems ("Soar," "The Voice Within"), but what it ultimately did was add a third dimension to an ambitious artist who refused to be buried along with most of her constituents in the Teen Pop graveyard. 
6. Hot Fuss by The Killers (2004) - For once, a turn-of-the-century rock band that didn't sound like another Linkin Park/Nickelback knockoff. Brandon Flowers and Co. heralded what appeared to be a renaissance of New Wavey dance rock (see: Franz Ferdinand et al). With just the right amount of flamboyant synth and heavily analyzed lyrics, these guys from Las Vegas (and I thought they were British!) were a sonic breath of fresh air, unironically channeling the likes of The Cure, Duran Duran and The Smiths. "Jenny Was a Friend of Mine," the original ode to bad romance, could have also been the theme song to some gritty road trip love story. "Mr. Brightside," their biggest hit to date, was an unabashedly epic wonder, its music video an entertaining homage to 2001's Moulin Rouge. 
7. Missundaztood by Pink (2001) - Much like Xtina, Pink (a.k.a. Alicia Moore) shed her previously glossy image to expose herself to fans as a young woman with some angst to express. The ubiquitous "Get This Party Started," was a wise choice for a lead single, a funktastic jam to pump up the masses. Then came the others: "Don't Let Me Get Me," "Just Like a Pill," and "Family Portrait," which laid it all out. Which isn't to say the rest of the disc didn't have its other standout moments. "18 Wheeler" is an emotionally charged song of survival while "My Vietnam" is a daring study of the damaged psyche of a young woman scarred by a trauma she'll never forget.
8. Born to Do It by Craig David (2001) - This debut from the U.K.-born R&B singer attempted to introduce Americans to two-step (or garage), a beat style that was seeping into the groove of many European club jams. The first single, "Fill Me In," was a perfect example of this, the musings of young man questioning his lover's intentions set to a rhythm that's both demanding and sexy at the same time. A bit more hardcore is "Rewind," a track he laid down with pioneers Artful Dodger. "Time to Party," with its easy-on-the-ears bass, is more than just a get-ready-to-go-out jam, it's a celebration of possibilities. And "Rendezvous" is pure baby-making music, a track that will keep those Do Not Disturb signs hanging on hotel suite doorknobs for hours on end. While his smooth tenor and hip-hop-oriented song structures may draw comparisons to the urban soul and new jack swing sound of D'Angelo or R. Kelly, the record oozes of his own individual sexuality. Above-average wordplay and irresistible grooves make this CD an impressive first effort.
9. Under the Influence of Giants by Under the Influence of Giants (2006) - Or, what you would get if you were to cross-pollinate The Killers with the Bee Gees and Hall & Oates. This SoCal-based quartet defies easy categorization. Amazon practically took the words right out of my mouth: "As their self-titled debut bears out, the Giants' funk-inflected, hook-saturated pop-soul is a combination of the Talking Heads' African poly-rhythmic groove ('Ah-ha,' 'Got Nuthin''), the ethereal falsettos of Michael Jackson and Prince ('Mama's Room'), the blue-eyed R&B of George Michael ('In the Clouds'), the insinuating melodic pop of Rubber Soul ('Stay Illogical'), Earth, Wind & Fire's horn-driven, noirish funk ('Against All Odds'), McCartney's winsome balladry ('Lay Me Down') and even the throbbing beat of post-hip-hop by way of Madonna ('Meaningless Love')."
10. Confessions on a Dancefloor by Madonna (2005) - Perhaps the most unapologetic dance album in years, Confessions was a return to M's dancehall glory days. Each track cleverly melds into the next, creating one big celebratory mosaic that had bodies bouncing at the gym, in the car and at the clubs. "Hung Up," with its catchy chorus (ABBA, who knew?) was a stellar kick-off single. "Jump" dares fans to take a plunge. And "Get Together" is an aural phantasmagoria, the soundtrack sex dreams are made of. The rest of the songs aren't anything new, but it was still a welcome departure from the R&B-flavored electronica the Material Mom had dabbled in at the start of the decade. 
Posts
All Comments
