If your mid-afternoon conference call sounds anything like this, it's because that mysterious Ugandan yellow-pepper jelly you slathered on your watercress at Panera was mislabeled—it's actually peyote jelly!
Big Time Rush
Duran Duran for Facebooking tween sophisticates whose uncool moms are still shaking off their Duran Duran obsessions, except that BTR—or whichever Svengali tugs the band's puppet strings—hasn't figured out how to pull off compellingly Duran Duran creepy yet; no one will be murdering "Famous" in a karaoke bar in 10 years. I could just as easily be talking about the Jonas Brothers.
Ford Fiesta-commercial-sized lead single intended to re-cement Flowers' indispensability as a modern-rock icon works, kind of, even if I'm unsure what he's communicating or why I should care—just like every U2 single ever.
As "Vacation" ably demonstrates, home is less a place than it is a state of mind. If your slacker-qua-sloth monotone doesn't change with your circumstances—if you're just as bored and listless on tour, in your house, writing a love letter—something's really wrong with you. Or maybe you're just 15.
How, exactly, did four Japanese women manage to pack a multi-national pop fete—complete with peacocks, eye-searing tribal costumes, surf-guitar hooks, shakers, limbo sticks, and what might be some sort of xylophone-imitation program—into a single exhilarating, three-minute pop song that makes Rainbow Arabia's "Holiday in Congo" sound like Two Dollar Guitar in comparison?
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