Back In The Day

Wait...people still know who run major labels?

For the most part, the only big-time record executives I can think of are the ones from all those VH1 specials re-runs about Tommy Mottola and Mariah Carey when they were married that always had that picture of them from their wedding with her huuuuge hair and immediately follows with the voiceover saying "they divorced soon therafter" and a clip of her singing "Honey" on the beach.

Unless it's about the guys who run Frenchkiss or a fun tidbit about the inner workings of Merge, I'm not even going to waste my guessing power. That's obviously what Cash Cab re-runs are for.

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gossip from page six

oh, come the fuck on: playbill edition.

As much as bringing social commentary-via-watered down rock with a splash of men's makeup to the stage can be annoying, the fact that Green Day is the one who made it to the randemonium ranks of Broadway crossover (like ABBA or Fela Kuti or Rock of Ages' musical ear buffet) out of alllll of the bands in the country is worse.

There are plenty of other artists who would be way better suited for a stop on 42nd Street that are instead stuck playing to crowds that stand on their feet the whole time in venues that don't have ornate ceilings for shows that your parents would never want to pay for and immediately take you out for a late-night dinner afterwards. (Clearly, the only worthwhile part of being stuck in Times Square.)

But, there's no sense in calling it broke if you can't fix it, so, we took the liberty of letting you know who we think would be better suited for a dance ensemble, song reprise and a stint on ol' Broadway:

Animal Collective. The lights? the costumes? The ability to drop acid while feeling highbrow and sitting next to a seventy-year-old theatre patron? Bring it on.

Sufjan Stevens, scoring a dramatic musical about The Oregon Trail. He'd finally crank out some of those state-based tunes he empty-promised us, and the ballad he'd write for the roadside funeral when the eldest sister dies of dysentery would be nothing short of phenomenal.

Bradford Cox playing the lead in The Phantom of the Opera...for no other reason except for that it would totally rule.

Tenacious D, only because I'm shocked that they haven't already done this.

Def Leppard. Someone, somewhere, at this very moment is stripping to one of their songs, and the idea of guys being able to tell their girlfriends they're going "to the theatre" and are instead tucking into one of those plushy seats to watch some pole action makes me want to help a brother out.

Andrew W.K., because really, he only way I'm going to understand this whole "I'm not Andrew W.K. but I am but I'm not" brain drain is with through a 90-minute musical culminating in a chorus reinterpreting the "I am he as you are he as you are me and we are all together" line of "I Am The Walrus" into a full-length Beatles-meets-Broadway tune followed by an encore of "Party Hard" where the entire audience headbangs away their meta headaches.

'N SYNC. A live-action version of that puppetering No Strings Attached cover would be a pretttttttty good pre-intermission closer. But in all seriousness, Chris Kirkpatrick probably needs to find some work.

list: things i liked this year.

perfection.

(ditto.)

you had me at "pizza".

you had me at "I HATE!"

not into the xx's live show, but the album is a whole 'nother story.

i want to hipster-hate the hell out of these guys in their cute little sweaters with their cute little pop tunes but fuck it, i can't. and i'd be lying if i said i wasn't excited to hear the next album.

i listened to this album a zillion times in 2009.

(i wouldn't be surprised if i did the same in 2010.)

is it me or did everyone forget this album happened?

 

Post-Nothing gets the "I never in a million years thought I'd like this album and yet cannot listen to it in my office because i punk-dance and rock the fuck out in my chair and it's humiliating" award.

sadly, the last harlem shakes album.

(i guess this won't be a better year.)

melodic rock that makes you want to scream, cry and
jump head first into a mosh pit, all at once.

(if this album doesn't blow your socks off, you'd better be barefoot.)

best album of the year.

list: things i didn't like this year.

(or, the music-y things that irritate me in recent memory)

If I wanted to listen to The Postal Service, I'd listen to The Postal Service.

New Years '09/'10 in New York.

Passion Pit is sold out, I don't do enough drugs to enjoy three hours of MSTRKRFT and frankly, if I couldn't motivate myself to see Surfer Blood at BK Bowl after a long day at work, I don't want to spend the whole night waiting for them to come onstage.

I mean, Milwaukee gets cheese curds, Culvers and Britt Daniel, Athens gets of Montreal DJ sets/Washed Out and Chicago's got everyone from The Hood Internet, Crystal Castles and The Drums to Margot & The Nukes and Wild Sweet Orange toasting champagne together at midnight. With how well Brooklyn-based bands have been doing this year, where are our amazing shows to choose from?

It's On With Alexa Chung being canceled.

She was the only host on television with her own legitimate sense of style, and despite being so goddamn awkward in interviews, tucked some very legit bands in the show's lineup between the Ashley Tisdale's and Justin Bieber's of the world, giving middle-school crowds the chance and option to dig into real music like MTV used to do.

But, most importantly, how am I supposed to feel guilty for those mid-afternoon junk food binges if her mind-bogglingly long legs aren't constantly there to remind me that fries go straight to the thighs?

sigh.

That i can't listen to this album yet.

if they actually kill her off, i will lose my shit.

The sad state of the publishing industry.

From an e-mail earlier this year:

"Sign up for a full year of NYLON's Digital Edition for only $9.95 or NYLON Guys for $5.97. Each new issue will be delivered to your email. To become a subscriber now, click here and start enjoying the current issue today!"

Really? You're going to e-mail me a gifuckgantic PDF of your issue for me to "virtually flip through" and then charge me when i can just go on your website and read all of the same Peaches Geldof-sponsored life tips and blurbs about "innovative new designers" that are always constructing dresses out of PVC pipe and burlap sacks? Uh, no thanks.

These cats breaking up.

:(

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a note on music supervision.

Now, I'm not going to rag on Passion Pit for soundtracking a phone, Matt & Kim lending tunes to Bacardi or even The Dodos hyping the girliest beer of all, Miller Chill, though I enjoy the irony of the song being called "Fools".

Apple always has good music on their iPhone ads so Palm Pixie shouldn't have to slum it musically, and if I like listening to bands like these when I'm drunk, then hey, why not forge the connection between the two without me having to put in any work?

But, sometimes, I'm not so cool with it. While browsing through men's "raw denim shirts" with Donald at J. Crew's post-baby-jesus'-birthday-mall-sale that cost, i kid you not, $120, we realized that the oh-so-familiar tunes playing overheard weren't by Bing Crosby, a Miss Mariah original or a jazzy jazz version of Auld Lang Syne - no, they were playing Animal Collective's "My Girls", a song about minimalism and basic necessities. And when a place that views "basic necessities" as sweaters with cable knit and ruffled dresses, I've got a problem with it.

It weirds be the fuck out, but in the end, I'm fine with bad places playing good music, even if it doesn't exactly fit - i.e., my grungy grocery store plays Bat For Lashes, Forever 21 hands-down has the best in-store music of all clothing chains (trust me on this one). But, when the location undermines and hypocritizes the music, I'm not a fan.

Up yours, J. Crew.

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photo via