I'll Just Leave This Paul Rudd Movie Trailer Right Here...

Paul Rudd plays Steve Coogan's husband in the upcoming Ideal Home.

And that's all you really need to know, am I right? The Australian-produced, modern-family comedy looks to deliver some laughs and warm fuzzies (as seen in the trailer below).

And no, you would not be wrong for mistaking the above photo for hot Schneider from Netflix's present-day reboot of the fantastic One Day At A Time.

@TheFirstEcho

A Thirtysomething Walks Into an EDM Festival...

It’s been a whole decade since I attended my last music festival.

In June of 2008 I made the brief trek to Exposition Park near downtown L.A. to attend Electric Daisy Carnival, an event that involved ferris wheel rides, a few vodka Red Bulls, and seeing one of my favorite artists, BT, take the stage long after midnight. (This was before the entire production moved to Vegas.) By the end of it all, my eardrums were sufficiently numbed.

Now, in my late thirties, I approach music festivals with cautious optimism – especially those of the EDM kind (it's not a rave!) featuring headliners I have a peripheral knowledge of. Why?

Hmmm...It’s not about staying up until the wee hours of the morning and keeping up with the crowd, most of whom were born while I was in high school. I like to think that I can still hang – maybe til 3am? – under substance-free conditions of course (and we all know how I can get after just two cocktails).

And it’s not a matter of the relentless bass that’s constantly dropped throughout the night and accompanied by psychedelic visuals flashing across massive HD screens. Despite any "Get off my lawn" tendencies that I may have, I still take pride in being open to sampling new artists and discovering new tracks that are not often heard on the radio. Oh wait...who listens to the radio anymore?

I approach these events with cautious optimism because...oh, who am I kidding? I'm in my late thirties and value sleep more than ever. But I am also all about The Experience and making sure one's comfort zone is regularly stretched. I'm also in it for observational purposes. Music festivals are more than a feast for the senses; they're ripe for people-watching.

Beyond Wonderland in San Bernadino (roughly 60 miles east of Los Angeles) took place over St. Patrick's Day weekend at the NOS Events Center. I was fortunate enough to get in with a media badge (check out my 8-hour chronicle at Bello Mag here) that granted me access to several VIP areas to watch DJs take to the stage, blare remixes, and pump out their own original tracks for thousands of bouncing fans. If I wasn't raising my hands in the air to the beats of R3hab, Alesso, Tritonal, or Yultron, I was taking advantage of every amenity inside the roomy VIP lounge, getting my face glittered up, and munching on free pastries at a large table designed to look like the one from the Mad Hatter's tea party in Alice in Wonderland.

I hate and love this hat at the same time.

And since the event welcomed guests 18 and over, there was a wide range of EDM enthusiasts to observe.

There were the sexually fluid Gen Z Pleasure Seekers, showing off their personally designed wardrobe and colorful accessories, their trigger fingers ready to live stream their experience at the drop of beat.

There were the Maverick Millennials who could afford a few cocktails at the bars while in search of the perfect hashtag to commemorate the night.

And then, if you looked very carefully, there were what I like to call the Vivacious Veterans, an older crowd of those still young at heart and still curious enough to check out the scene, having attended nearly a dozen of these fests since the turn of the 21st century. They're most likely fellow singletons and child-free couples. They’re the ones who embrace the current EDM moment while claiming to have loved EDM before it was called EDM. They remember names like Digweed, Orbital, and Paul Van Dyk, artists they played on repeat on their WinAmp players back in college (i.e. me).

I have the same unicorn onesie!

As for the merch? Thirty bucks will get you a souvenir hat. Ten dollars will get you a commemorative pin. I refrained from any retail purchases and was satisfied with my free souvenir poster and "Kandi" bracelet I made inside the VIP lounge. And the food! Beyond Wonderland is heaven for anyone with the munchies (go figure). I ended up inhaling some pork belly fries from a food truck, and then three hours later, consuming the gooiest grilled cheese sandwich I've ever tasted. I washed it down with my refillable bottle of water. (To make a long story boring, I only had one cocktail and then guzzled down water throughout the night to stay sober and hydrated.)

You see, I've always been fascinated by this culture ever since I was in high school, staying up late on Saturday nights listening to DJs spin their mixes on the local dance station back in New York. (Shoutout to KTU.) In college, I discovered movies like 1999's excellent Go (from Doug Liman, it still holds up) and 2000's Groove and Human Traffic. I fell in love with their soundtracks.


Back then, even though I was a ginormous bookworm who didn't look the part, I felt as if I could participate in the festivities. I knew I wasn't a total "raver" or "club kid," but I enjoyed the music and appreciated a damn good remix when I heard one.

So I experimented a bit.

I bought a packet of mini glow sticks to place in your mouth. I impulsively purchased a shirt with an outline of a dragon emblazoned on the back. I spent some of my summer job money on a double-CD compilation called Club Hits 97. And I dropped fifty bucks on a pair of black, wide-legged nylon pants, the early 2000s equivalent of bell bottoms. They were purchased at a store called Bang Bang inside the White Plains Galleria. It was a retailer full of clothing racks for the club kids of Westchester County who liked to party in the Bronx or hop on the Metro North rail to Manhattan on weekends. I wore these pants twice. They're currently stored in a trunk in my closet. Because you never know.

But what would 2018 Hiko wear? If you couldn't tell from the top photo, my Beyond Wonderland wardrobe consisted of sneakers, black jeans (straight fit), and a camouflage hoodie that partially covered my yellow Golden Girls t-shirt.

Because I was all about comfort. And being myself.

@TheFirstEcho

I Watched 'Tyler Perry's Acrimony' So You Didn't Have To

I'd like to preface this review by saying I am not well-versed in the complete oeuvre of writer-director-producer-actor (and Oprah squad member) Tyler Perry.

But I am familiar with his rise to self-made mogulship due to his string of modestly-budgeted films primarily produced for an underrepresented segment of the American population. He has done his own thing, telling stories that weren't being told, and employing individuals both in front of and behind the camera long before Frances McDormand uttered the words "inclusion rider" during her acceptance speech at this year's Oscars. And as a result, Mr. Perry has earned buckets and buckets of money, nearly single-handedly contributing to Georgia's economy with his booming movie studio just outside Atlanta.

Creating his own entertainment empire and consistently pumping out big-screen titles almost every year is an outstanding achievement. But does it necessarily mean his product is any good? 

When it comes to his latest effort, Acrimony (I won't use his name in the film's title because, like similarly monikered movies, I find it obnoxious), I can answer that question with a resounding ABSOLUTELY NOT.

Before jumping into this, I had heard not-so-great things about Perry's skills as a director and screenwriter. I have also heard African-American friends of mine, mostly female, negatively express how they feel about his work, particularly with regards to the way he portrays black women, which -- if one were to dig deep -- has arguably been influenced by his painful past. However, that is an op-ed for another day. I came to this movie simply to critique it like any other movie I have an interest in.

And?

I can't remember the last time I felt so insulted as a moviegoer after walking out of the theater. Acrimony might as well describe what I felt after being subjected to horrendous writing, embarrassing production values, lazy direction, and one of the biggest plot holes ever witnessed on the big screen.

How could I have been suckered into seeing this? Well, I frequently get what I call The Psychological Thriller Itch, and a few months ago, I felt as if Acrimony could scratch it, especially after catching its exquisitely edited trailer. I then had my interest piqued even further when Perry and his star, the magnetic Taraji P. Henson, started doing their press tour, hitting the talk show circuit and hitting these talking points:

1. Ever since Perry worked on 2014's Gone Girl, he wanted to do his own female-centric thriller. (Even though the whole woman-scorned-gets-revenge thing has been done to death.)
2. He wanted to give Taraji her own Fatal Attraction moment for a new generation.
3. He only had 8 days with Taraji to shoot her scenes. I guess that's an impressive feat?

In other words, I was sold. I took the bait. And I'm ashamed of it. What I had hoped to be a trashy-fun revenge flick turned out to be one of the worst movies of 2018 thus far.

Needless to say, SPOILERS AHEAD...

Taraji plays Melinda, who, in the opening of the movie, is being court-ordered to stay away from her ex-husband and his new wife. Melinda appears to be a woman scorned, and Henson nails Simmering Rage beautifully (those of you who've seen at least one episode of Empire already know this). Melinda is also ordered to attend therapy sessions where she sits on a couch, chain smokes, and vents to an off-screen psychiatrist while dropping the occasional "this motherfucker" while describing her ex, Robert Gayle (the dashing Lyriq Bent).

And here's where the entire first third of the movie turns into one, way-too-long flashback telling us how Melinda and Robert met in college. He's a poor-but-intelligent engineer (and former felon) who's working on an invention, a rechargeable battery called the Gayle Force Wind (wink). And she's a virgin with two sisters who serve as a Greek chorus, occasionally popping up to tell Melinda she shouldn't spend so much time (and her inherited fortune) on a loser like Robert. But he woos her anyway, and they become a couple, going for walks along the river in Pittsburgh in a couple of scenes that are so blatantly green-screened, it actually prompted me to sit up in my seat, look around the theater, and ask, "Is anyone else seeing this?" (Exhibit A: this screencap taken from the trailer)

But when Robert sleeps with another coed named Diana? Something inside Melinda snaps, and she drives her Jeep into Robert's mobile home (remember, he's poor) while the two are having sex inside. The collision causes uteral damage in Melinda, and she is incapable of bearing any children. Robert apologizes, promises he'll never do it again, blah, blah, blah...and the two not only remain a couple -- they get married. And she pays for his grad school tuition. And she pays for everything else. Her fat bank account gets drained, and we know this because we see the calculations appear as graphics on screen, y'know, to make watching someone go broke more fun.

The young Melinda and Robert then move into her dead mother's home that she's inherited, and she ends up supporting him for 18 years while he obsessively tinkers away on Gayle Force Wind like a mad-but-good-looking scientist. (Goodbye actors who played Young Robert and Young Melinda -- you will not be missed.) Grown-ass Melinda busts her ass day and night while grown-ass Robert attempts to get his foot in the door at a company owned by a Generic Rich White Guy who could potentially buy his invention. Robert sends letters and emails to this company every day (yes, for 18 years), which prompts security to put him on the company's shit list. His dream is crushed because apparently there are no other companies or investors that would be interested in a rechargeable battery that looks like an eighth grader's science project. But -- what a coincidence! -- Diana, the hot chick he banged in college, works at the Generic Rich White Guy's company and could give him the in he needs. They meet for coffee (off-camera), and she conveniently leaves her wallet in his delivery truck. (Forced Plot Point Alert!) Oh yeah, I guess I should mention Robert's now a driver for some seafood delivery service, a business run by Melinda's brothers-in-law who give him the job as a favor.

Now, this might seem like we're watching The Robert Show right now, and you would be correct in that assumption because Melinda is hardly around -- now the whole we-shot-Taraji's-scenes-in-eight-days is starting to make sense.

Anyway, Robert gets a meeting with Generic Rich White Guy, causing him to bail on an important seafood delivery for a big client (Melinda's family gets pissed). GRWG makes him an offer of $800,000 for his rechargeable battery. This kind of money could help Melinda pay back the mortgage she took out on her house to support Robert's dreams as well as the money she spent on his education. But no. Robert declines the offer, thinking he deserves more, and walks out. At this point, someone in the theater let out a "What the fuck, man?"

Meanwhile, Melinda finds Diana's wallet in Robert's truck (because of course she does), but she doesn't crash her car into anything this time. She simply sits back, smokes a cigarette, and waits for Robert to come home. Before she can confront him about Diana, he tells her that he walked away from an $800,000 offer he basically waited 18 years to receive. This gives Melinda more reason to say, "I wanna divorce your ass." Robert swears he never slept with Diana (for a second time) -- they only got coffee! -- and begs Melinda to forgive him, but it's too late. She could never stay with a man who has let her down so much after giving him so much. Boy, bye!

Melinda and Robert get divorced...and what perfect timing! Robert then hooks up with Diana, and GRWG comes back with an offer of seventy-five million dollars for that fucking battery thingy. Robert's dream comes true! Financial problems solved! So, in an attempt to reconcile one last time, he delivers a ten-million-dollar check to Melinda, pays off her mortgage, and thanks her for all that she did for him. A pleasantly surprised Melinda is like, "Ooh, you rich now? And you got that waterfront penthouse we talked about buying? And that yacht you dreamed about? Let's get back together!" But Robert's like (and I'm paraphrasing), "Sorry, I'm engaged to Diana now, and she's pregnant with my baby...y'know, the child you could never give me."

Ouch.

Well, this is the proverbial last straw for Melinda. She tries to sue Robert for the money she spent to invest in his dreams, and the judge is like, "Lady, your ex wrote you a check for ten million dollars and voluntarily paid off your mortgage. Get outta my courtroom." Melinda freaks out on Robert and Diana in the courthouse lobby, giving everyone a taste of her crazy. She then holes herself up in her dead mother's house, drinks a shitload of wine, and like any good movie psycho (or Melrose Place-era Marcia Cross), she scratches out Robert's face in a bunch of photos. Her family and one concerned coworker realize she's off her rocker and try to intervene. They're like, "I guess we should do something." So what do they do? They gather at Melinda's house to make sure she doesn't run off and do something stupid. A defeated Melinda gives in.

Meanwhile, a now-married Robert and Diana set sail for their honeymoon on Robert's fully-staffed yacht. They're out in the ocean at night, toasting to their future. Kissy, kissy, smooch, smooch.

Cut back to Melinda's house: one of her sister's discovers an open window with its screen cut out. Melinda is gone!

And what happens next is for the Movie Plot Hole Hall of Fame: While Diana gets ready for bed on the yacht, Robert lounges on the top deck...and is confronted by a gun-toting Melinda who's decked out in a white gown, her hair frizzed out. Um...how did she get here? Where did she get a gun? And how did she get past the eight-man crew stationed throughout the boat? Is this the Glenn-Close-in-Fatal-Attraction moment Tyler Perry was building up to? Because this ain't that. This final showdown is so blandly staged, it feels like a tame Real Housewives confrontation. During this ridiculous denouement, Melinda shoots Robert, and when the crew finally shows up, she forces them to jump overboard, leaving her alone to finish off Robert and his new bride. A bloody Robert saves Diana by pushing Melinda overboard, but we know that crazy bitch is coming back, and when she does, she gets her foot tangled up in chains connected to the anchor that Robert eventually releases, dragging Melinda down into a watery grave.

When the closing credits began to roll and the lights came up, I found out I wasn't the only one with the burning question. I heard several people in the theater ask, "How did she get on the boat?" YES, TYLER PERRY. CARE TO EXPLAIN? Were you and your editor out sick when they taught continuity in film school?

Besides this glaring error, Acrimony is extremely problematic when you look at the overall picture. Never are we given the slightest explanation for Melinda's mental health problems. At one point, her never-seen therapist briefly mentions "borderline personality disorder," which sets off Melinda even more, but a proper diagnosis is never given. The neglectful way in which mental health is treated in this movie is not only shocking, it's an insult to real-life patients dealing with similar problems.

Early on, Melinda also brings up how unfair the stereotype of "the angry black woman" is, but Acrimony fails to make any effort in exploring why that is or why Melinda is so easily triggered. Instead, it gives us a confusing, convoluted, and unbalanced story about a short-tempered woman who just...cracks.

What has been marketed as a scorned-woman revenge flick turns out to be a movie in which the audience isn't sure who to root for until the last act. And that's NOT a compliment. Perry & Co. aren't crafting some kind of morally ambiguous saga about the politics of marriage. On the contrary, the only thing Acrimony succeeds at is further proving the writer-director's frustrating inability to put together a coherent and entertaining story.

@TheFirstEcho

Melissa McCarthy as a Dowdy Writer in a Literary Crime Dramedy? Yes Please.

After we get the broad comedy of this summer's Life of the Party, we get to see star Melissa McCarthy in a role that award nominations are made of: a makeup-free, frumpy writer with first-world frustrations. Introducing: Can You Ever Forgive Me?

I'm not sure I can forgive the writer who decided on this title.

The movie is about a washed-up celebrity biographer who resorts to fraud in order to reboot her fledgling career. As much as I would eat up a film like this ("based on a true story," no less), it seems more award-adjacent. Meaning, it doesn't quite seem like an award contender -- even though it has a few Oscar-baity elements attached to it.

But it's only the beginning of April. Who knows how this'll turn out when Fox Searchlight releases it into a nominal amount of theaters this fall.

Check out the trailer and decide for yourself (and yes, that's Kate & Allie's very own Jane Curtain in a blink-or-you'll-miss-her scene):


And yes, I realize Jane Curtain is known for kicking off SNL back in the 70s and co-starring in the 90s hit comedy 3rd Rock From the Sun, but if you know me...well, you know me.

@TheFirstEcho

Passport Alert: I'm Going to Berlin (and Paris and London)

It's been 17 years since I stepped foot on European soil, and that's about to change.

A few things before I hop on a red-eye at the end of May:

I look forward to meeting up with some friends in these cities. I'll need a crash course on speaking German. I'm ready to f**k up some crepes in front of the Eiffel Tower like a basic American tourist. And the Anglophile in me can't wait to revisit the South Kensington neighborhood where I lived as a Boston University student during more innocent, pre-9/11 times.

@TheFirstEcho

I'm Not Crying: The 'Won't You Be My Neighbor?' Trailer is Here

I can't remember the last time I got a little choked up watching a movie trailer.

But here it is, the preview for Won't You Be My Neighbor? a documentary about Fred Rogers, the man behind the beloved children's show Mister Rogers Neighborhood. The film, from director Morgan Neville, is being released theatrically this summer, and I can't think of a better way to counterprogram all of the loud and obnoxious blockbusters that will be vying for everyone's attention. 

In other words, anyone who ever grew up watching the King of Empathy and Kindness (I just came up with that title) should support this doc. Because this is the kind of film we need nowadays.

@TheFirstEcho

LUSH: The 2018 Spring Playlist

OUT: Spring cleaning.
FIVE MINUTES AGO: Spring training.
IN: Spring listening.

Hop aboard the Spring Express with these 30+ tunes that should help you welcome the new season with open arms (and lighter jackets).

@TheFirstEcho

Pilot Season 2018: Representation Matters

Thanks to the incomparable Xaque Gruber, who sent me this Facebook message over the weekend, it looks like my name could be immortalized on the small screen.

That is, if a certain pilot gets picked up by a certain network...

Stay tuned.

@TheFirstEcho

Obsession of the Week: Janelle Monáe's "Make Me Feel"

Take some art direction from Black Mirror's "San Junipero," inject it with some very Prince-esque funk, and you get the gorgeous music video for Janelle Monáe's "Make Me Feel," a single that is already being hailed as a "bisexual anthem." (The fact that Janelle's alleged boo, Tessa Thompson, also appears in the video only adds fuel to the rumor fire.)

And, regarding certain recent Prince homages, a coworker recently quipped, "Justin Timberlake should take note."

@TheFirstEcho

20 Things That Turn 20 in 2018

1998 was a good year. How good? The proof is here in these pop culture relics...

1. Can't Hardly Wait - See future Client List and Ghost Whisperer star Jennifer Love Hewitt play the prettiest girl in school while surrounded by a dozen actors before they hit it big on procedural dramas and milquetoast cable TV movies! Seriously, there are so many familiar faces in this movie...and right now, it is hitting me hard in the gut to think that I was graduating from high school at the same time as these characters. Sheesh.


2. Brandy and Monica's "The Boy Is Mine" - An unrivaled R&B-pop duet that should never be remade. But if both singers want to reunite for a sequel, then by all means: Have. At. It.

3. Armageddon - It's the mind-numbing Bruce Willis blockbuster that gave us Aerosmith's then-ubiquitous "Don't Wanna Miss a Thing" and one scene that will never make us look at animal crackers the same way again.


4. Madonna's Ray of Light - Arguably her best album of this decade. It was experimental, it was existential, and it won four Grammys.


5. Felicity - The WB drama about a college freshman chasing her crush across the country and adjusting to life in New York City gave audiences one of television's best love triangles (FYI - I will always be #TeamNoel) and became one of the most endearing coming-of-age sagas at the turn of the 21st century.


6. "...Baby One More Time" by Britney Spears - It was the music video that launched a pop megastar and millions of schoolgirl Halloween costumes.


7. The X-Files: Fight The Future - Mulder and Scully's first big-screen adventure was a big-budget thrill ride that bridged the fifth and sixth seasons of the sci-fi series. And apparently that "truth" is still "out there" considering they're back on Fox solving more cases and still dealing with that damn conspiracy. Sigh.

8. Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets by J.K. Rowling - Four years before everyone bought tickets to see Harry & Co. on the big screen for the second time, fans devoured this bestseller.

9. Semisonic's "Closing Time" - The anthem for every graduation party across the country.

10. Sex and the City - 20 summers ago, the world was introduced to Carrie Bradshaw, Charlotte York, Miranda Hobbs, and Samantha Jones.

11. Deep Impact - The superior giant-meteor-destroys-the-Earth movie of the two that came out during the summer.

12. The Miseducation of Lauryn Hill - Bow down to one of the best albums of the 90s.

13. Charmed - The pitch for this Aaron Spelling fluff probably went something like this: "What if you gave Charlie's Angels a book of spells?"

14. Disney's Animal Kingdom - The theme park in Orlando, Florida opened its gates. Yours truly experienced the magical wonders later that summer.

15. The series finale of Seinfeld - The price for a 30-second commercial during the final episode was a cool $2 million.

16. Dawson's Creek - #TeamDawson4ever

A post shared by Pop Rocket (@poprocketpodcast) on Mar 28, 2018 at 9:35am PDT

17. Alanis Morissette's Supposed Former Infatuation Junkie - If Jagged Little Pill helped me get through a year of high school, then this follow-up helped get me through a year of college.

18. Fear Street Seniors: Let's Party by R.L. Stine - This installment marked the beginning of the end of a long-running series of horror novels that left a significant impact on my young adulthood.

19. Saving Private Ryan - "All that just to find Matt Damon???"

20. My high school graduation cap and gown - Gulp. I'm learning how to cope with this harsh truth. (More on this later...)

@TheFirstEcho

I Was a Guest on 'A Special Presentation'

ICYMI: I was a "special guest" on A Special Presentation, a podcast about "the ghosts of television and pop culture past." I had the nerdgasmic opportunity to share some of my TV expertise, particularly on the seminal 80s primetime soap Knots Landing.

Hosts Jonathan Bradley Welch and David Crabb welcomed me with open arms (and a box of doughnuts) over at the Nerdmelt Showroom on Sunset Boulevard.

Listen to my episode (#27) wherever you get podcasts (like HERE) and enjoy listening to me ramble on about kidnapped babies, corrupt politicians, and other cul-de-sac convolutions.

@TheFirstEcho

Song of the Month: February 2018

There must be something in the water over in Australia because the Nation Down Under has been delivering some impressive pop lately. This is the second month in a row in which I've showcased a song from a group of Ozzies.

Sheppard's "Coming Home" is a feel-good bop that any smart music supervisor will want to include in a TV commercial for Coke or some millennial-targeted lifestyle ad campaign. (Or maybe that's just the copywriter in me.) Either way, it's a track that should be added to everyone's playlists as we trudge through another wintry month that needs some sparkle.

Initial Thoughts on Justin Timberlake's "Man of the Woods"

Okay, here we go...

I'll start with some positive: I love "Montana." (Listen HERE.) It's the perfect retro-smooth track that Bruno Mars never released in 2013. It's the musical equivalent of a post-coital cruise in a black Cadillac Fleetwood Coupe at midnight somewhere in 1984. ("Breeze Off The Pond" is a close second.)

Upon listening to the entire album, I've come the conclusion that this thing screams "PLEASE GIMME AN ALBUM OF THE YEAR GRAMMY IN 2019!"

The 30-second bridge in "Supplies" is what the entire song should have been.

The older I get, the more I realize my pop idols are gradually slipping into self-important Adult-Contemporaryhood.

"Young Man" -- as adorable and well-intentioned as it is -- is a ripoff of Christina Aguilera's intro, "My Heart," on 2010's Bionic. Just sayin'. (Both tracks include cameos of each pop star's toddler offspring.)

I could've done without the Jessica Biel-voiced interludes.

"Midnight Summer Jam" is trying so hard to be a cookout anthem.

The following lyric in "Sauce" is a jawdropper: "I love your pink, you like my purple." Say what? Um, no.

And really, was "Filthy" just a leftover from FutureSex/LoveSounds or what?

@TheFirstEcho

#TBT: Writing for the Ladies of 'Claws'

Finally getting around to sharing a fun, little teaser I wrote for TNT's Claws last year. Produced by the awesome team at Stun Creative (shameless workplace shoutout), this was, ahem, shot last spring down in New Orleans with Niecy Nash and the rest of the fierce female cast.

Check it out:

@TheFirstEcho

Oh "My My My!" Troye Sivan Drops a New Single

The Australian YouTuber-turned-popstar (and subject of my inaugural HuffPost piece) whose devastatingly gorgeous Blue Neighborhood was one of the best albums of 2016, has dropped a new single and music video.

"My My My" is the track, and it's an adequately catchy electro-pop number about young passion...and intertwining one's tongue with the teeth of a lover. "I die every night with you" goes the chorus, and it's a line that will undoubtedly launch a thousand memes, GIFs, and various posts among the singer's 7 million-plus followers.

As for the video, Troye sings and shakes his hips in an abandoned warehouse that could arguably double as an underground sex club. It's an artsy, black-and-white piece with enough strobe lights to warrant a seizure warning at the top. Enjoy:

@TheFirstEcho

Song of the Month: January 2018

Properly kicking of the new year requires a proper track.

And that track is "Say Anything" from Australian quartet MOBS. The single takes its name from the beloved 1989 John Cusack movie that was written and directed by Cameron Crowe and even incorporates a few sampled notes from the film's signature song, Peter Gabriel's "In Your Eyes."

The result is an irresistible slice of electro-pop that feels nostalgic and fresh all at once.


Then, once you've fallen in love, try their latest, "Growing Up."

@TheFirstEcho

An 'American' Theory

Is it me, or has there been a sudden surge of the word "American" in the titles of movies and TV shows over the past 20 years? Seriously, take a look...

American Gigolo 
An American Christmas Carol
All-American Christmas Carol
American Graffiti 
An American Tail
American Beauty
American Pie
The American President
American Gangster
American Psycho
American Hustle
American Ultra
American Sniper
American Dreamz
American Heart
American Splendor
My All-American
American Violent
American Ninja
American Idiots
American History X
American Made
The American
American Satan
American Vandal
American Ninja Warrior
American Gods
American Assassin
American Crime
American Crime Story
American Horror Story...

I ask this question because I have a theory. Hear me out...

I believe the increasing appearance of the word "American" in titles is a result of a growing sentiment in the United States, pride, which is, in itself, a result of an increase in nationalism. We're living in a time when the rest of the world is portrayed as scary, unwelcoming, and harmful, a time when "globalism" has become a dirty word. And when something is "American," certain people will invest their time in buying it, consuming it, experiencing it.

One could then argue that blatantly slapping on the word as an adjective is a lazy marketing exercise, an attempt to lure in a certain group of people that won't bother consuming content that appears to be foreign or unfamiliar. Throw in the word "American," and people will know what they're getting. This was made here in the US of A, dagnabbit! This is for the red-blooded citizens of The Greatest Country on Earth!

In other words, this could very well be another example of the dumbing down of consumer culture -- or society -- selling something in the most digestible, accessible, approachable manner.

I can't think of any other country that exhibits its nationalistic pride in the titles of its own film and TV shows to this extent. There's no German Horror Story. No Australian Beauty. Not even a Brazilian Psycho. So what gives, America? Why the need to label "American" so much? Do you feel compelled to mark your property, to make it clear that America makes the best stuff? Huh?

*This was written in a drunken stupor last year.

@TheFirstEcho

The 'Slender Man' Trailer Is Just As Terrifying As You'd Imagine

The trailer for the long-awaited big-screen adaptation of the myth behind the Internet's most popular boogeyman, Slender Man, has dropped.

It's an eerie mood piece that sets the tone nicely. Little dialogue. No gratuitous title cards. Just pure, dread-filled imagery that promises a horror blockbuster for 2018 (and of course, a frightening, new franchise for Sony).


P.S. - Congrats Sarah!

@TheFirstEcho

TWENTY18: The Winter Playlist

Not only is January a time for people to preoccupy themselves with resolutions that will fall apart by Valentine's Day, it is also a time for post-holiday doldrums, continuously dreary weather, and for Hollywood to dump crap movies into theaters. That's why you need to inject some fresh music into your life.

Starting with these (check back for new additions throughout the season)...

@TheFirstEcho