The Day The Music Apologized

Bye, bye Miss American Pie.

Just in case you completely lost faith in humanity, Paris Hilton's album Paris is reportedly a raging flop. So far it's sold only 75,000 copies in its first week compared to Christina Aguilera's 320,000, and projected sales for next week are 30,000 - which is a larger than normal second week drop.

"The international outlook is not much better for her," one industry source told Page Six. "The international people are not inclined to do a big push since she can't back up the album with a tour. Obviously, she can't sing live." The source added that Hilton was advised a year ago to train her voice, work with choreographers and learn an instrument to prepare for a limited tour, but "obviously she didn't listen." Hilton's rep, Elliot Mintz, said, "To me, [the album] sounds huge. For a newcomer, this is incredibly impressive."

I'm glad Paris Hilton's CD is failing, but 75,000 still seems like 74,996 sales too many. This isn't like Joey Fatone releasing a solo album, because at least he's technically a singer. This is Paris Hilton we're talking about. Paris Hilton. My butcher is more qualified to record an album than she is. And he was born without a mouth.

Herald's Purple Crown

Bucking the rich and lazy tradition of sequel numeration, the makers of the upcoming Fantastic Four follow-up have opted instead for a subtitle. Come June 15 next year, we'll all be forgetting to see Fantastic Four: Rise of The Silver Surfer.

"In the sequel, the enigmatic, intergalactic herald, The Silver Surfer, comes to Earth to prepare it for destruction. As the Silver Surfer races around the globe wreaking havoc, Reed, Sue, Johnny and Ben must unravel the mystery of The Silver Surfer and confront the surprising return of their mortal enemy, Dr. Doom, before all hope is lost."

They're not even mentioning Galactus in the title, which is the real menace Silver Surfer warns of in the comic. It concerns me that the title features the messenger of the problem, but not the problem itself. It's like pointing out your "missing fingertips" when really you should be worried about the Leprosy coursing through your body.

Swayze Like A Fox

A mere 8 months ago Allhiphop.com reported that Patrick Swayze wants to release a rap single. The actor, who had a hit in 1987 with She's Like the Wind, told the site he's working on a new tune which will show that "rap rhythms [are] an emotional undercurrent for ballads." Swayze didn't have a timeline for when his foray into hip-hop would be released.

Here's what I thought back in January: It's About. Damn. Time.

Here's what I'm thinking today: How long can we be expected to wait?

For far too long, rap and hip-hop have been monopolized by tough young african-americans who grew up in the forgotten streets and alleyways of inner-city America. Well, those greedy bastards are about to get their due, 'cause here comes a new breed of rapper: white. rich. middle-aged. I'm not sure what exactly he'll be rapping about, but please god let it be about Roadhouse. Although the only thing I can think of to rhyme with Roadhouse is Choadhouse. And I don't think that's good. Unless, you know, you like choads.

Here's how I imagine the conversation:

"What do you do?"
"Me? I take pictures of squirrels with cameras."
"So what? How else would you take a picture of a squirrel?"
"No... I mean I take pictures -with a camera- of squirrels. With cameras."


Thanks Nancy!

Calling All Of The Medias Too Fast

The Boomtown Rats had been around since '77, and by the time I was in high school had seen only minor success in the United States. I had actually seen them on the Mike Douglas show when I was... what? 13? I'm not sure, but they were the coolest band I'd seen since the Monkees, tell you what, and as soon as I'd saved two months worth of allowance I rode to the Record Factory and bought The Fine Art of Surfacing.




I've never been a fan of Michael Jackson's music, which made for almost non-stop misery in '83. Thriller came out that year, and Michael reinvented the music video... in the process ruining one of the last high school dances I ever attended. It was a "video dance." The AV geeks set up a projection TV at one end of the gym and everyone danced awkwardly to Billy Idol video after Billy Idol video... 'till Thriller came on... and all the girls raced to Michael's end of the gym and squealed and screamed while he mugged, transformed and inevitably shambled into their PYT hearts. I walked out about the time the zombies started moonwalking... and you know, I still don't know how this video ends.




Elvis. What can I say? Before I knew of him, I wanted to write like him. After I saw the video for Pump It Up I wanted to be him... I'd still be happy to just write like him, though.




If I stopped going to dances after the "Video Dance" I stopped dancing after seeing Rock Me Tonight on Friday Night Videos. I just know some of this rubbed off... it's really not worth the risk.

The Age Of Plastic

I'm gonna' be a little busy for a few days, kids.

While I'm "away" I'll be puttin' up -for your enjoyment, or downright disdain- the 80's videos that made me the man I am.

I'd like to tell you that posting these videos now is some sort of metaphor for... shit. I don't even know what they could be a metaphor for. But dammit, revisting these videos now could very well be a metaphor for something that could make me look very deep, and very troubled... and that's at least a little bit cool, right? So posting these videos makes me look a little bit cool. And looking a little bit cool? That's about all I can hope these long days while people half my age are throwing books at me, and telling me I'm "the man," and that they're gonna' bring me down.

You know you wanted it.

Here's Kevin Federline's performance of his new single as he closed for the Teen Choice Awards a few nights ago. It's entertaining and all, but only in the way seeing a juggler drop knives on himself is entertaining. The audience's reaction when he finally reveals himself is priceless, like they have no idea whether they should be cheering or crying. He might as well have been the light technician, because the audience doesn't even recognize him until the DJ tells them to make some noise.

On The River Goin' Slow

Britney Spears is reportedly making Kevin Federline get rid of his six pet Australian gray nurse sharks because she thinks they're risky to have with children in the house.

“Kevin loves those sharks,” a family friend told the mag. “He even named them. But Brit said there’s no way he’d be keeping them.” K-Fed also says Spears is his toughest musical critic. “She gives me her real opinions about my tunes,” he said, reports Passim. “When I get really excited about the songs, she would tell me to slow down.”

Britney Spears being concerned about the safety of her children is like the Hamburglar being concerned about the lack of security at McDonalds. If the kids had a choice they'd probably prefer to be raised by the sharks anyway. At least with the sharks their only risk is being eaten. With Britney they've got to worry about being dropped, tied to the roof of a car, or put in a microwave. And being eaten.

Hurry! Act Now!

Stick A Fork In Him...

So, tomorrow night is Comedy Central's William Shatner roast. Will I be watching? What do you think?

Love the Shat!

But here's the thing:

Calling yourself a comedian by making fun of William Shatner is like calling yourself an equestrian by riding a petting zoo pony. The man has virtually made a career of making fun of himself, after all... where's the challenge? Where's the sport?

Now don't get me wrong! Like I said, I'm certainly going to be tuning in. There's sure to be some major laughs as Bill is roasted by my beloved Golden Girls (and Boston Legal co-star) Betty White along with others including George Takei, Kevin Pollack and Sharon Stone (Sharon Stone?). But sadly, you have to take the good with the bad, and the bad includes comedians like Andy Dick taking drunken pot shots using halfassed puns on Captain Kirk and T.J. Hooker.

Yes, we'll all revel in creativity it takes to make a joke about T.J. Hooker.

The entire point of a roast is to put people who avoid the blunt of jokes on the receiving end for a change. Past examples include Denis Leary, Hugh Hefner, Rob Reiner and Marie Curie.

But William Shatner? The roast just seems a labored exercise of the obvious. However, luckily for the TV audience all roasts end with the well-done individual getting up to take a couple shots himself. And that, my friends, is the final frontier.

Love the Shat!

I honestly don't care if I ever see this film... but holy shit it rules.

Man o' butter.

I Have A Gub

It's "Guest Star Day" kids!

The Scoop is making the pretty bold claim that Kevin Federline is glad he has a second child on the way because it means more money for him from Britney Spears. A source says:

“Before he got married, Kevin was sitting down with lawyers, discussing legal and financial issues. He was sitting sort of slumped over with a baseball cap over his eyes and a lawyer was talking about how he had to sign a pre-nup and Kevin looked sort of bummed out. But then the lawyer explained that for every child the two of you have together, you would receive X amount of dollars. His eyes really lit up.”

It's not that I don't doubt Kevin is low enough to get Britney pregnant for some extra cash, it's just that I don't think he's clever enough. If he were trying to rob a bank his plan would consist of running in, grabbing the bags with the money symbols on them, and running out. So the idea of setting up a whole charade that involves getting people pregnant to circumvent the legal system just seems a little out of his league.

Pezamania!

When I first heard about this I was pretty excited because I thought they were going to make a movie about PE'Z, the Japanese jazz band. Unfortunately this movie is actually about PEZ, the brick-shaped sweets that you yank out of a plastic mascot's neck.

Whaaaa? Somehow unfamiliar with Pez? Pez? They're disembodied heads on sticks, and you snap their necks backward to get the candy out of them. It's unnatural and it's wrong. No child should have to see Mickey Mouse's severed head perched on a stick like some sort of traitor to the king. The whole thing is straight from the dark ages.

Tori! Tori! Tori!

I know this news is not-so-fresh, but hey, it's Sunday. Seems to me if the "It's Sunday" excuse works for God, it damn well oughta' work for me. So there.

Tori Spelling was set to inherit millions from her dad's $500 million estate but her mom has supposedly cut her out of the will and is only giving her 0.16% of the fortune - a cash inheritance of $200,000 and another $600,000 in private investments set up by her dad.

" “I believe Candy had a lot to do with what was left for Tori,” the source says of Tori’s mother, who is sole managing executor of the estate."

She has no choice now: Tori Spelling has to murder her own mom. It's ironic that the Spelling household would turn into a plot line from a Spelling TV show, but that's how fate works. Although once her mom is dead she'll uncover a secret chest in the attic proving she was actually her sister. Her twin sister, Abraham. Bum bum bummm!

Just a bunny on the wall.

Tom Tom Club

Sure, Vanity Fair has bought the rights to publish the first official pictures of Suri Cruise, but to hold you over until they do here's an alleged shot of Suri taken as photographers were getting aerials of Tom Cruise's mansion.

I don't doubt that it's Suri, I just can't see her... or make her out. It might as well be a picture of a tree with the caption: "Suri Cruise hides behind a tree." Clearly there are colors involved here. And shapes. But the genetic composite of Tom Cruise and Katie Holmes? You make the call.

The Next Big Thing: Oh, Beamish Nephew

Remember when I told you that I have an unerring ability to spot "the next big thing" in music? Well kids, Nancy's got a pretty long winning streak herself, and it was she who turned me on to Clap Your hands Say Yeah some months ago... now I'm passing the favor on to you.

Now, I know that a quick Google for this Brooklyn five-piece reveals a myriad of views from the gushing to the "don’t believe the hype" doubters. That so many people are proffering an opinion on something that was self-produced and limited initially to only 2000 copies says a helluva lot about their impact, in my book. Now their CD's in a second pressing (!) and I'm here to tell you: they're the next Arcade Fire: a band propelled first by word of mouth and then by frenzied A&R. It won't be long before they're playing the Bait Shack, you'll see.

A collection of twelve tunes, Clap Your Hands Say Yeah's debut album oozes quirky goodness, borrowing heavily from the danceable jangling guitars and keys of early Talking Heads, complete with David Byrne-esq breathless yelped vocals from frontman Alec Ounsworth. The songs are often magnificently titled... don't believe me? Check this out: The Skin of my Yellow Country Teeth is an organ led quickstep with high note string accompaniment whilst Upon This Tidal Wave of Young Blood may be a cheerfully strummed tune, but it carries strong and emotional anti-war crimson lyrics. Is This Love skips along to an undulating beat like a starry-eyed lovelorn pup but it’s not all oddball goofing around; Details of the War is a dark brooding effort sounding like Tim Booth performing Sunday Morning.

Before you ask, if you dig Margot & the Nuclear So and So's, Wolf Parade, Broken Social Scene, Neutral Milk Hotel and Modest Mouse? You'll love Clap Your Hands Say Yeah. No lie.

So, you sayers of nay? I say Clap Your Hands Say Yeah is a revelation, worthy of celebration. Clap your hands indeed... and make sure to thank Nancy later.

Riding Hard To Catch That Herd

Have you been a little worried about the quality of the Ghost Rider movie after seeing the footage, or even just by knowing that Mark Steven Johnson and Nicolas Cage were involved? Well, don't be, kids! Good ol' Nic Cage cleared everything up recently by mentioning some clever quirks he's added to the film's main character:

"For one thing, Cage and Johnson gave Blaze a fetish for jellybeans. For another, they made him a fan of soft-pop singer Karen Carpenter. "And he reads a lot, but he's something of a cowboy," Cage added."

I was just thinking that Ghost Rider should have some kind of sexual thing for candy and should always... a little sadly... be humming Rainy Days and Mondays under his breath, but I couldn't quite flesh it all out. I guess that's why I'm not writing it.

Every Face Is A Cartoon

There came a pale kitty....

In what can only be read as a sign of the apocalypse, Paris Hilton has been given her own line of Hello Kitty figures by Sanrio. They've got the blonde hair, purses, and even Tinkerbell, but it still needs a certain something to make it undeniably "Paris". Like a stripping pole. Or detachable crabs. Or a giant sign around her neck that reads "I'm a worthless human being." I'm just throwing out ideas here, folks.

Not That Innocent

If there was ever a point in your life you thought Britney Spears wasn't insane this video should change your mind. You know you're pushing the limits of human stupidity when you make Kevin Federline sound intelligent. It's almost impossible to fathom that this is even real.

Watch this... if for no other reason than that the very meaning of life is contained in it somewhere.

Deuxm.

Tigers of wrath.

Pourquoi a-t-ce dû être des serpents?

As much as it prides us to think so, the danger of snakes on planes is not purely an American affair. Snakes can get on any flight, international or domestic, and this international trailer for Snakes on a Plane proves it.

The main difference is that in the domestic version, those who placed the snakes, as well as the snakes themselves, are viewed as hostile terrorists that must be stopped at all (motherfuckin') costs. In this foreign version, Samuel L. Jackson praises the valiant patriotism of these brave snakes, risking life and lack of limb to strike back at the planes of our enemies, the rest of the world. Heroes on a plane, my friends. Heroes on a motherfuckin' plane.

He Pummeled Me With Science

Crap

In Touch Weekly reports Kevin Federline is trying to pull in some extra cash by charging $20,000 to appear at events. Additionally, K-Fed has reportedly made $700,000 in the last four months: $250,000 for endorsing Blue Marlin clothing, $25,000 per day to promote Virgin Mobile cell phones, and negotiating to sign a deal with Jive Records for $300,000 per album.

Holeee shit. Who are the people who are paying this guy to show up at their events? Maybe the launch party for Hobo Living Weekly? Or the annual conference for White People Who Think They're Black? If you really want Kevin Federline to show up to your event you can save a little money and just take a crap in the middle of the floor. Then introduce the pile of warm feces as Kevin Federline and your guests will never know the difference. They might even comment he's looking more cleaned up than usual.

"Go Back Outside And Calm The Flower Children"

Look! A press release!

CHRISTOPHER NOLAN TO DIRECT

WARNER BROS. PICTURES’ UPCOMING BATMAN MOVIE,

THE DARK KNIGHT

CHRISTIAN BALE REPRISES TITLE CHARACTER,

HEATH LEDGER JOINS CAST AS THE JOKER

BURBANK, CA, 31 July 2006 – As a follow up to last year’s blockbuster Batman Begins, Christopher Nolan is set to direct Warner Bros. Pictures’ The Dark Knight, written by Jonathan Nolan, based on a story by Christopher Nolan and David Goyer. The film will be produced by Emma Thomas, Charles Roven and Christopher Nolan. Additionally, Christian Bale will resume his role as Bruce Wayne and Academy Award nominee Heath Ledger has been cast as The Joker. The announcements were made today by Jeff Robinov, President of Production, Warner Bros. Pictures.

Christopher Nolan revamped the Batman franchise in 2005 with the immensely successful Batman Begins, starring Christian Bale in the title role, which chronicled the early years of the superhero. Nolan first garnered attention from critics and fans in 2000 with the groundbreaking drama Memento, which he wrote and directed. He went on to direct the thriller Insomnia, starring Al Pacino and Robin Williams, and recently wrapped production on The Prestige, with Hugh Jackman and Bale.

Bale was most recently seen in the ensemble cast of Terrence Malick’s The New World. His other credits include Little Women, Portrait of a Lady, Metroland, American Psycho, Laurel Canyon and Steven Spielberg’s Empire of the Sun, which was his first starring role.

Ledger most recently earned Oscar Golden Globe, BAFTA and SAG Award nominations and won the New York Film Critics Circle Award for Best Actor for his portrayal of Ennis Del Mar in the award-winning drama Brokeback Mountain. His other credits include Casanova, Monster’s Ball, Lords of Dogtown, The Brothers Grimm and The Patriot.

“Chris’ unique vision is what made Batman Begins such an outstanding film and we could not imagine anyone else at the helm of The Dark Knight,” said Robinov. “We also can’t wait to see two such formidable actors as Christian and Heath face off with each other as Batman and The Joker.”

“I'm excited to continue the story we started with Batman Begins,” added Nolan. “Our challenge in casting The Joker was to find an actor who is not just extraordinarily talented but fearless. Watching Heath Ledger's interpretation of this iconic character taking on Christian Bale’s Batman is going to be incredible.”

Production is set to begin on The Dark Knight in early 2007.

Nolan and Ledger are represented by CAA.