Thought of the Skye Friday: DOES ANYONE UNDERSTAND WHY THIS IS NOT COOL??

From TMZ (I swear, I only read it for the Alec Baldwin sound clips):

An interactive anti-drunk driving Public Service Announcement titled "Paris Hilton Autopsy," created by artist Daniel Edwards, features a life-size clay sculpture of a naked, tiara-clad Paris Hilton, complete with a Tinkerbell replica at her side. What about her Blackberry?!

The "art" installation is designed to counter "the disturbingly glamorized trend of Hollywood's girls gone wild," and is highlighted with Hilton laid out on a coroner's table with "removable innards."

Yeah kids, don't drive drunk, or else you might end up like THIS RICH BITCH AND HER LITTLE ANNOYING FUCKING DOG GOD WHAT A BUNCHA SLUTS AMIRITE THEY'RE EVEN ASKIN' FOR IT WHEN THEY'RE DEAD.

Banksy, you've been out-douched. Get me out of this decade, plz.

Happy SIGH Friday.

Chaff n' a Nap

1. It's that time again, the LOW-KEY TECHNO NAP ALBUM OF THE YEAR, yes yes my pinch-hitting #20 album of the year guaranteed the spot (except I doubt there won't be 20 better albums, so alternate-spot) because of its utilitarian value -- FACILITATING A GOOD NAP.

Former winners in this field include The Eraser by that guy wots in Radiohead, A Strangely Isolated Place by Ulrich Schnauss, and...I dunno, that Hood album from 2005 (scanning my year-ends). No, Eluvium. I don't even remember what it sounds like, actually, but I think you can nap to it.

To sum up, this is a very important award, because naps are very important to me. Which is why it gives me great pleasure to present this year's award to Pantha du Prince for This Bliss. Kudos for making the cut in the second month of the year (when I first dl'ed the album), meaning I don't have to listen to another techno album until 2008.

2. Still undecided on Avril. Will probably remain so, but definitely won't be a top twenty contender. More later.

3. Hey, wait a minute, I've done TWO techno songs, though you couldn't nap to either of 'em. One was for an electroacoustic class and one was fr my plezure in high school, EXORCIST REMIX. One of the two is available upon request. Actually both are available, but one's only a MIDI file.

4. Hm, very difficult to post to other threads on ILM that are not about teenpop. Not that I did before or anything.

5. Ross, Eppy, etc., how was EMP???

The Last Mims

2007: Y2K?

This is why I blog: I don't gotta type. I can hit a thou writin' nuthin on the site.

Yes, friends and lurkers, it's true. My website now reaches A THOUSAND PLUS HITS A DAY almost exclusively through random google image searches. Unfortunately, I can't see what phrases these people are typing in to find said images, but I imagine the phrase "nip slip" is involved (since my hits went up about 200 per day when I used it the first time).

So Bedbug Fever has struck, it being unseasonably COLD and ANGSTY outside, and just about everybody round these parts is VENTING about STUPID PEOPLE they are READING on the INTERNET. And I wholly encourage this. However, I would actually like to link three pieces that I love love loved, because I love to love love, and the love that loves to love the love that loves to love the love that loves to love the love that loves also loves that love. Love love love.

1. Maybe the best general tween-TV piece I've read...like, ever. But certainly in the past year of post-HSM coverage. "Tween on the Screen," of course it's TIMES SELECTED (bastards), but I'll just go ahead and post the lines that Eppy already beat me to over on Clap Clap, which I was going to transcribe onto the teenpop thread 'til he helpfully did it first.

I watched in vain for any hint of cynicism on the...set, any trace of the corporate imperative to get these kids to simulate innocence no matter how miserable they were. Schneider’s prime directive — “Kids win” — is an element not just of the fictional Nick universe but of the real one as well. Not once in three days of taping did I encounter a pushy stage mom; nowhere did anyone break out in tears for any reason at all. Even the extras exhibited none of the restlessness or aspirational smart-mouthing you might expect. The crew didn’t grumble about the kids (they were busy passing around a Super Bowl betting sheet), and the kids were undemanding pros. A live goat was present in a house-party scene, and when, inevitably, it had an accident on the set, the kids cringed and screamed, but they did not leave their marks.

To which Eppy replied:

Professionalism exists so that, when a goat poops--and, as anyone who's worked a job can tell you, a goat always poops--everything doesn't break down.

And I'll go a step further and say that one thing this article does beautifully is sidestep the assumption that anything should break down (were it not for the Svengalis and parent-vultures and what-have-yous pulling the reins), implicitly arguing that this pervasive idea is much more arbitrary than it's widely perceived to be. It's, shock, a reasonable examination of a pretty interesting facet of popular culture. A reminder that journalism doesn't have to swing between seeming-neutrality and "gonzo" -- 'tis possible to challenge the STRUCTURAL NORM (1) in a mainstream venue, (2) without making a big deal about challenging it, so that the act of challenging itself doesn't overshadow the argument, (3) with humor.

2. And wait, there are more examples of this strange but exciting new trend that I've begun referring to as "good writing" or "goodrite," a neologism I hope will catch on. Here's Alex Macpherson's long interview with Ciara, which is generally engaging (and, get this, what he has to say is about as interesting as what she has to say!) and very funny without ever being at the expense of Ciara herself -- and without going to the other extreme and fawning, or putting her on a celeb pedestal (so the humor can be about her, like about the sort of pat self-affirming responses she has, but it's not at her expense, because his respect for her is never in question). However, I should point out that no American has ever used the word "mum," unless it's the word. (We say MIMS.)

3. And a less exciting but provocative recent goodrite, also from NYT Magazine, about collective tastemaking and why an emphasis on individual tastes will never reveal a hit-making formula (it's also kind of about internet hivemind, though it doesn't go into that so much, and doesn't really need to). So here we have three of my least favorite article formats: the thinly-camoflauged new media-product profile masquerading as a "bigger picture" thinkpiece, the long-ass interview [EDIT: actually it's not as long as I remember it being, maybe it was just the format -- article and not Q&A -- that gave me that initial impression...great read, regardless of length], and the boring-ass pseudoscience-y social experiment findings article...and I love all three of 'em pretty much without reservation. The product profile actually nails the bigger picture, the interview doesn't send me scouring for the one sentence I can use (provided I even like the artist at all), the experiment-findings aren't all that pseudo-scientific -- in fact the point is that we should be more skeptical of all generalized formulas for tastemaking, but that it certainly involves unpredictable groupthink and a complex set of broad social interactions dingdingding.

4. Fine, ONE gripe, eensy teensy minor one, and about Idolator so it barely counts anyway. But they put some dumbass random blogger (who is NOT hot, NOR fly, and therefore certainly NOT hot-because-fly) right there on the main page for making the connection between, get this, the Josie and the Pussycats soundtrack and Avril Lavigne's "Girlfriend." Search results for SKYE SWEETNAM on Idolator: 0. Except there's one mention in the comments section now because I couldn't help myself. The most glaring issue -- aside from linking to this idjit in the first place (and I won't link to it myself 'cuz I think twice and three times before I go around linking to kingdom come, y'know, since it might be nice if people actually read the links and didn't just click on them, gag a little, and compulsively check their email/swig some diet soda to get the taste outta their mouth) -- is NO MENTION of Dr. Luke, whose progress to "Girlfriend" has not gone entirely undocumented (and indeed, I will be very interested to know whether or not Avril pulled the rug under Skye before she got a chance to put out her Luke/Max HYPOCRITE ON STEROIDS, tho Skye'd already been there done that like four years ago, so I'm sure she's helping them cook up their next paradigm shift). I mentioned Dr. Luke my own darn self.

Proto-Beaties

1. Yes, yes, the PROTO-PUMP GIRLS (who are, themselves, the PROTO-BEATIES). Pat Morris - We're Diabetic. H/t WFMU Beware of the Blog and Mr. Matthew Corley.

2. I had a dream last night that I saw a review of a new Skye song on a Matos blog post guest-written by Sasha Frere-Jones who had written for the New Yorker, which was actually the Village Voice. (Uh, I've never even SEEN these people, and they show up in my dreams. I also had a dream that I tried to have a conversation w/ F-Kog and a Stooges song came on and I was kinda faking the lyrics, and he wasn't singing along at all, so it was pretty awkward when I got to the parts I had to mumble. It was "Search and Destroy," I think. I also have a recurring waking nightmare where I'm giving a presentation and someone double dog dares me to start singing an Ashlee Simpson song, not from the chorus. So I sing "Love Me for Me" to myself sometimes to try to commit it to ready memory, since it's not an obvious pick just in case anyone asks me to start singing an Ashlee song to PROVE I KNOW IT BY HEART.)

Anyway, M/S/F/J tips me off to this supersecret private show Skye is giving on a beach somewheres, so I head off and of COURSE it's a BIRTHDAY PARTY for a buncha toddlers. Except they're part of this weird evangelical family (with an older brother type who reminded me of...I dunno, maybe the older bro in Home Alone?) and they start having conversations that I find morally problematic or some such thing except I couldn't understand quite what they were saying.

Did I mention we're on a beach? The waves start crashing down and we all realize with dawning horror that there is a GIANT OCTOPUS crashing up against this makeshift stage where Ms. Sweetnam is scheduled to play. Now, this family is so nuts they book Skye ONLY, no band or nuthin, so she shows up and looks around confused, like where's my band? Just two little speakers on a sorta wooden plank stage. The fundies cross their arms and say they like her, they don't want a buncha punk BOYS ruining everything. Sing us a nice song, etc. And she says, well, I need at least ONE guy on stage with me! So she goes off and brings back this guy that looks like a nicer version of the bald head biker dude on Veronica Mars and the fundies are pissed, but they let the show continue.

So here's this song, which I can only hear in bits because the waves are crashing down and THE OCTOPUS etc. Sounds pretty good, really nice synth line in it and I can't figure out where it's coming from since it's just a guitar and vocals. (Maybe there was a backing tape or something.) So I get the bright idea to grasp onto this railing that's set up like a barrier between the plank-stage and the crashing waves. I'm clinging onto it and it freaks the guitarist out...GET OFF THE STAGE, DUDE. WHAT ARE YOU DOING AT THIS KID'S BIRTHDAY PARTY. Fuck this guy (who now mysteriously has hair), I wanna rock out. And that's when I realize that Skye is singing and playing the keyboard line at the same time...BACKWARDS! Like, the keyboard is facing the wrong direction and she's just sort of pecking at it, playing this line from behind the keyboard. So I go HOLY SHIT BACKWARDS SKYE SOLO!!! And then she looks over and she's kinda weirded off, too, she gives a look to the guitarist like who is this guy (c'mon like Skye hasn't stumbled onto this thing) but she keeps going with the song. And the octopus seemed to be enjoying himself. Don't know what happened to the rest of the party, perhaps they met an untimely end what with the octopus but I wasn't paying attention to them at this point.

3. Long article about "wherefore art thou indie-rock humour" in Stylus this week. With a hole so big in it you could drive a truck full of clowns through it. "Indie rock" is a social distinction! Of course most of it is humorless (though, oddly, Arcade Fire's first album is actually pretty silly! And since when are the Shins not funny? Know Yr Onion! The problem with post-Garden State is that the Shins were never actually trying to change anyone's lives!), the whole distinction is based on pretending that non-indie stuff doesn't count toward the humor tally. Or even "indie" productionwise but not "indie" socialwise. Uh, DaHv, undeniably INDIE, is funny as hell! This goes back to the "extreme pop" discussion...when someone gets kicked out of the indie distinction (e.g. Liz Phair), it's likely their music will get funnier. Not always.

Sam Ubl's also the guy whose Brooke Hogan review I was talking about way back when, and he has this to offer to keep me from going too deep into this one.

To the extent that one can even generalize about “the record-buying public” anymore, it seems modern ears visit indie rock for the same reason they visit any other store in the strip-mall of digital-age culture consumption: to purchase goods for the pantry. In this case they’re copping to poignant emotions, the kind you can’t find on Paris Hilton’s 24-hour corner—not in labeled form, anyway.

There is something inscrutably, powerfully attractive about Paris Hilton that defies all categorization. I assume this is what he meant. Take it back, I have no idea what those words mean.

That's it for now. Anyone looking for humor in MUSIC could look at my top, like, thirty singles of 2007 so far. From indie (Alexa Melo) to under the radar major label (Lil' Mama) to major major (Avril, he admits...nah, HILARY "GYPSY WOMAN").

The most important thing about Grindhouse...

...Is not about anything you could read elsewhere, the fanboy take or perplexing stodgy A.O. Scott take or J.D. sugarhigh! take. No, there is ONE and only ONE most important thing about Grindhouse.

Tarantino references Lindsay Lohan.

Let me say this again. Tarantino. References. Lindsay. Lohan.

Look, I've got a lot of problems with some of what Tarantino has done (although I gotta say his contribution, Death Proof, made me want to revisit Kill Bill somewhat, just to make sure it -- sort of -- made up for some of what I saw as problematic ideas happening in that one). But he thinks twice and three times and fifty times about what words, particularly what references, are going to come out of his characters' mouths. You're not getting a tossed-off poorly thought-through slight with Tarantino. You are getting a reference in bold and italics. This is not a guy who just tosses celebrities up for the hell of it.

I just can't stress this enough. The line is almost a throwaway; one of the characters is LiLo's make-up artist and says something about the make-up on the shoot. Totally innocuous, no social commentary. The ONLY point is that Lindsay Lohan is in the film-within-a-film being discussed by the characters. (He also includes a Daryl Hannah reference in the same passage of dialogue, suggesting that the "director" of this unnamed film is Tarantino himself. Which would explain why he gets to date Rosario Dawson and "jam" Daryl Hannah's stand-in [using QT's own vernacular from his '95ish SNL appearance here].)

I think this is a pretty strong sign that QT wants to work with Lindsay Lohan. He's spotted her. He wants to give her her CRED ROLE.

The only info I can find on this is from MTV:

But here's the weird part: Lohan isn't actually in the movie at all. "[We] talk about her, but she's not in it," clarified Mary Elizabeth Winstead, who co-stars with Dawson in Tarantino's half of the movie. "[Dawson] plays Lindsay Lohan's makeup artist, and I play her co-star in a fictional movie." Even weirder is the fact that neither star could confirm whether Lohan even knows her name is being used in the film.

"I know [Lohan] met Quentin on a few occasions, but I don't know if he's actually told her about it," Winstead said. With or without the Mean Girls star's consent, Grindhouse will open April 6. ...

I think this is exciting. The kicker would be if he also realized the genius of her music and incorporated it into the film somehow, or into another film. A man can dream...

Hair n' Thingz

1. New column on hair ran today.

2. Thanks so much to Freaky Trigger to linking here from their pop section!!!

3. Yay country column! Tag-teamin' it...haha, they actually talk about REAL MUSICAL RELEASES. Crazy talk.

4. Not much else to say today, unfortunately. But I would like to elaborate on a gripe I posted about on the teenpop thread about a few stories on the Ashlee/Robert Smith collab rumor. (I was cranky so I won't follow it up there, though there are a few interesting resulting convos startin' up maybe I'll join.)

I don't really think that everyone in the universe reads the teenpop thread, but it's really strange to see a site like P4k qualify a swipe at "La La" with the opinion that Ashlee has more talent than she's often given credit for. (I maintain these are incompatible positions.)

I do think this comes from the influence of the teenpop thread -- not necessarily the thread itself, but probably the criticism resulting from it, in conversation with it. Not to say that someone couldn't think Ashlee is given too much shit just by listening to her and forming their own opinion, but that they couldn't possibly think this and then still think it's "disheartening" to hear she's working with Robert Smith. It's impossible.

I noticed in the Meg & Dia review I mentioned (which I really shouldn't even be acknowledging, but it does go to sorta back up a point here) that the writer, for all his p3do suggestions, has likely read my twin-pop column (since he refers to "twin-poppers," a phrase I'm pretty sure isn't in very wide use and calls Aly and AJ "not twins but close enough," which is exactly what I said about them) and, maybe unconsciously, referenced it.

So I guess what I'm irked at is that anything -- ANYTHING -- can be absorbed into smug-shit "neutral" journalistic but IN YR FACE style that dominates most music writing. Which means Ashlee can be painted as a pariah and martyr in the same sentence. It's like throwing shit at her and then diving in front of her to heroically catch some of the ricochet. (In this particular case, I suspect the "actually really talented!" stuff comes directly from Kogan via Paste or Voice.)

Good thing is that teenpop thread and its contributors and its soulmates and its progenitors and its lurkers are having ripples. Bad thing is that it's RIPPLING THROUGH A BUNCHA CRAP. But attracting a few people at a time to the general convo is probably more realistic than trying to undo smug-shit neutral milk journalism etc. all at once.