And just like that, as if by magic, we awaken into a world where Russell Brand and Katy Perry can flaunt an Indian marriage license, where Brett Favre got whipped in his old backyard, where the Yankees aren't headed to the world series, and where world peace remains as elusive a possibility as ever. Last week, though, newsworthy music-related shit went down, and an underpaid, leech-like music press diligently went about reporting most of it with a grimly half-assed determination. Underpaid, leech-like, music press -- Gimme Noise salutes you.
In that spirit, here's a quick rundown of stuff that happened last week that the commoners among you may have missed.
Whenever Mark E. Smith shuffles off of this mortal coil, the only people who miss him will be his wife and his fanbase, all of whom could probably fit into the Staples Center. (Maybe.) Smith has a habit of making enemies, alienating people, and firing band mates the way some folks change their underwear. Now he's - characteristically -slagged off inescapable acoustic pop warriors Mumford & Sons as "a load of retarded Irish folk singers," which is actually really funny and may, at the least, draw some modicum of notice to the fact that Your Future Our Clutter, the latest Fall album, numbers among the band's better latter-day efforts.
I'd never heard of Gordon Pinsent before just now, and neither had you, I'd bet, but his crack at Bieber's memoir - I feel stoned just writing that sentence; teenagers shouldn't get to write real memoirs unless they're Anne Frank or some shit like that - was at least mildly amusing, though I kinda wish he'd played his dramatic reading straighter and not in front of a studio audience. This sort of mockery is best served extra dry.
Just don't think too hard about how many current high-school freshmen were conceived to the stirring, nu-Boomer bar-band strains of "Only Wanna Be With You."
First of all, since when is Rhymefest a "rap star"? Second of all, why is this a surprise to anyone? Fest would likely have better luck as a politician than he's had as a Kanye West associate/apprentice, and if he loses, he could parlay the experience into another album no-one will buy or a book that some people might buy.
It's good clean family cartoon fun! It's a deconstructed couture mis-match made in Zoolander heaven! Paging Weekend Update City Correspondent Stefan.
This is kind of like a few weeks ago, when your great-grandpa sent his first email, and everyone was congratulating him for being "with it" and "relevant" and "up-to-date," even though everyone was actually thinking "you're so, so old."
It happened and happened and happened, it was covered breathlessly and exhaustively, you didn't have the scrilla, connections, or vacation time to partake, and now it's over, and your various online music resources won't deign to bombard you with overdoses of incestuous, indie-flavored banality until, oh, March, when SXSW explodes on the streets of Austin - and the soul-crushing cycle of promotion, reinvention, and inanity begins all over again.