I must preface this by saying that the only reason I probably would ever have been interested in this song is because The Rock was in it, but after listening to it again this morning, you got to love a song that can borrow from Ricky Martin and John Denver at the same time.

The video quality isn’t so great, but enjoy… this is one of my kitschy favorites. I forgot at the end that Rock laid the smack down on the big guy.

P.S. If anybody can find me a video of Rock telling The Coach to dance the Charleston, I would love to see it. The closest video of that era that I can find on YouTube is when Rock told Coach he wasn’t praying right when he said, “What up, G?” and then Rock’s eyes got all bulgy and he literally kicked Coach’s ass out of the picture.

I am shocked –SHOCKED, I say — that a network television show that manufactures pop music stars could be accused of ANY malfeasance.
EVER.
Pshaw!!!

Update!
Video of the sorry affair.

Happy 75th birthday to the Redheaded Stranger!

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Mic Boyd has collaborated with his brother, Classified, on quite a few tracks, and now he’s hitting the scene with a full length album of his own.

The debut album, Lost in the Woods has its ups and downs, but definitely shows a strong talent ready to hit the hip-hop scene; his brother produced the album, but Mic is definitely not looking to stand in his shadow for long.

The album opener, and first single, Guess Who’s Back features Classified, and stays very safe. A lot of the lines will sound familiar to rap fans; they are versions of or directly copied lines from other famous rappers’ hits. The song has some good rhymes, but uses generic imagery and hip-hop stereotypes. Based on the first track alone, expectations for the album run pretty low. Then the second song hits, and the story changes.
Ignored features much stronger production, some real music, and fantastic story-telling. The lyrics are smoother, and more original; it’s a complete turn-around all at once. From there on, the album varies a little, but stays pretty strong. When Mic Boyd falls back on lyrics about weed, it gets boring; there are a lot of them, so if you’re not down with the ganj, this is not the rapper for you. When he tells stories and leaves those generic standards behind, he shines and shows why people should listen to his music. His references reach all over the spectrum, from the streets to the geeks. As the album progresses, Boyd seems to get more comfortable with himself and his sound.

The wide range of beats and backgrounds, accompanied by several strong story-telling songs (and a few boring weed ones) make this a good debut. With a focus on the story-telling and leaving the constant drug references behind, Mic Boyd’s next album could leave good behind and be just plain great.

Check out the video for the first single after the break.

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I’m not sure if there’s a backlash brewing out there yet, but if not, let’s start one.

I’m officially sick of hearing about Leona Lewis.

I don’t care that Simon Cowell discovered her on one of his British TV shows. I don’t care that he groomed her for stardom. I don’t care that she’s blee-hee-hee-ding love all over the damn place.

I just resent that’s there’s a vast conspiracy by huge, mediocore-entertainment-promoting entities (American Idol, Oprah’s show, etc.) to cram this woman down our collective throats. The “buzz” around Leona Lewis couldn’t have been more manufactured if had rolled off of a Ford line. Please, America, let this one go. If diva history is any indication, she’s already destined for marriage to an older man or washed-out performer, followed by a slow side to Vegas. The only one to escape the trap is Mariah, and that’s quite frankly because many men of all ages still entertain the thought of banging her like a screen door. Forget Leona Lewis. You don’t have to buy it just because they sell it.

The memoir: an important genre of nonfiction literature designed to give us lowly readers an insider look into the lives of the influential, the powerful, the motivational, the courageous, and some of the most remarkable people of our time.

Miley Cyrus fits none of these descriptions. Yet, she has already signed a book deal and is slated to write her very own memoir.  My revulsion at such a published work is matched only by my revulsion at the knowledge that every pre-teen consumer will be clamoring for it the very day it is released.

Apparently she can’t wait to tell everyone all about her strong relationship with her family. That’s adorable! But we all know that it’s actually Disney prostituting this rising young star’s career even more than it already has.

Also, it’s simply a premature move on her part. It’s only a matter of time before she falls into the vortex of drugs, car crashes, parties, nude pictures, and rehab. And then she has to write another memoir to talk about her fall from grace and her struggle back to the top! She might as well wait and publish it all at once.

The Hoff received eye surgery today.

While he is indisposed, all of his Hoffly duties will be handled by Parker Stevenson.

Get well soon, sir!

Dear Barb,

Forever yours,
7 Year Bitch

It’s been almost 11 years since the release of Portishead’s last album. Their new album, Third, finally drops April 29th. Here’s the new single, “Machine Gun”:

If the rest of the album sounds that good, it’ll make the ridiculously long wait worthwhile.

Un-friggin-believable. But true.

Axl Rose delivered Chinese Demoncracy to Geffen.

Granted, this one is kind of like shooting fish in a barrel. And that’s actually appropriate, given that this one is all about shooting.

The first two lines:

“I Got My Sights Set On You
And I’m Ready To Aim”

All right, kid. I don’t mean to break your assuredly achy-breaky heart, but having your sights set on someone means that you’re already aiming. This would be akin to The Beatles singing:

And I, I tell you something,
I wanna hold your hand that I’m already holding

Or perhaps, Color Me Badd:

I wanna sex you up as we’re sexing

You see my point.

What’s up, Shotgun?  I’d like to introduce you to a band that, in a perfect world, would get some well-deserved recognition.  Out of Richmond, VA comes the debut album from the Mason Brothers, a five-piece band made up of two Mason brothers and three guys not named Mason.    Fans of Iron and Wine especially will want to give their album, “The Sun, the Moon & the Sea” a listen, though anyone will appreciate the skillful musicianship that hallmarks these songs.  These are five talented guys with a solid debut album on their hands.  James Mason’s and Patrick Strollo’s masteries of the acoustic guitar, Christian Mason’s haunting lap steel guitar, and James Mason’s confident lead vocals serve as cornerstones for this folk style album.  The Mason Brothers take the indie folk genre and expand it with a seemingly large instrumentation for their style of music, including drums and organ.  Add in ethereal harmonies and thought-provoking lyrics and every song on the album pops out from against the background of the music industry.  Give them at a listen or purchase their album at http://www.myspace.com/masonbrothers.

Special thanks to reader Heather Shirk for pointing this one out. Hot damn.

Call it Your 60s Moment of the Day. The lead singer of Procul Harum recovered royalty rights over their classic, “A Whiter Shade of Pale”. Noted music critic James “Jimmy” Rabbitte was quoted as saying, “Poxyist bleedin’ lyrics ever written.”

Religious authority Father Molloy stated, “It is a peculiar lyric.”