Category: Artists (Page 147 of 262)

It’s official: Brit-Brit is a disaster

There’s no story to really link to here, but everyone else is already talking about it, so I’ll throw my two cents in. Tonight I tuned in to catch Britney Spears’ highly-touted “comeback” on the MTV Video Awards, and it was everything I had hoped it would be. The only thing she didn’t do was fall down, but man she looked totally out of it while performing her new bomb “Gimme More.” She was behind a couple beats on her lip sync near the beginning, her “dancing” looked more like she was taking tentative baby steps, and her body, while not shameful was just…well, let’s just say she’s not the old Britney and shouldn’t be trying to wear revealing outfits these days. The whole performance looked like a half-assed rehearsal than a final take. I’m sorry, but I thought making a supposedly big comeback means you generally put 110% into it, but like the rest of her life lately, Britney just phoned it in.

To top that off, though, the wonderful Sarah Silverman came out and immediately started telling off-color jokes about Britney and her kids. The entire audience was silent for the first third of her act. It was priceless. Silverman stuck it to the show completely and looked hilariously disgusted as she ended her routine and walked off the stage. What the fuck were the MTV execs even thinking by booking her on the show? It was excellent, and afterwards I promptly turned it off and watched “The Soup.” Can’t wait to see how they skewer the hell out of all this next week.

Man-about-MySpace: The Ultra Twist

Ahhh, the joys of fuzzed-out garage punk. Guys paying homage to 1980s postpunk retro maniacs like Mudhoney who themselves were paying homage to 1960s do-it-yourselfers like the Sonics. While such a swirling mishmash of influences might sound complicated, it’s really not. Think lo-tech. Think basic rock. Think pre-Sgt. Pepper.

It’s rock, unvarnished, and it’s awesome. Energetic hard-bashed drums, guitar with distortion turned to “11,” little if any keyboards, and no production values whatsoever. Think “Dirty Water” by the Standells. Think “Baby Please Don’t Go” by the Amboy Dukes. Think “Smells Like Teen Spirit” playing over a not-quite-tuned-in AM radio station.

It adds up to The Ultra Twist, an Italian punk band not quite a year old, who features all of the above, and a little (OK, a lot) of punk attitude.

The only high-tech digital artifacts detectable in the Ultra Twist’s Tracks–at least at MySpace sampling rates–is the deliberately added vinyl-like hiss and pop at the beginnings of the tracks. It’s a cheap trick, but hey, it shows the world where their priorities are, somewhere far south of Nelly Furtado’s quality control standards. And it’s good.

Warning: Flag-waving Amur-kans aren’t necessarily going to agree with all their sentiments–although, scratch that: Polls indicate that even staunch patriots are parting ways with our president, and the band’s anti-Bush rant is classic punk: An instrumental punctuated by three words. Albeit three incendiary words, to some folks.

Most punk fans would find it hard to disagree with The Ultra Twist’s main anthem, “No Beer No Fun,” so the band offers an opportunity for us to all set politics aside and mosh until our noses bleed, and our sinuses are finally cleared of all that Furtado. Anyway, dig the tunes and no, don’t adjust your speakers–it’s supposed to sound that nasty.

ultra twist

Man-about-MySpace: Fats Hammond

One of New England’s best kept music secrets is Fats Hammond, a group featuring two Hammond B-3 organs bashing out some of the funkiest soul-jazz on the planet.

Before you go thinking for a second that Fats Hammond, in their standing Tuesday night gig at the Dodge Street Grill in Salem, Mass., puts on some sort of high-faluttin’ academic jazz clinic, go listen to their tracks uploaded to The Space: It’s pure soul grease, laden with more fat than the pub’s fish & chips. Dirtier than the floor around the beer stand behind home plate at Fenway Pahhhk.

Sometimes, we’ve been told, the drummer from the Trey Anastasio (Phish) solo band knocks off early–he works behind the bar at Dodge Street–and sits in with the band, and the jams go deep into Wednesday morning.

Ken Clark

Fats Hammond ringleader Ken Clark (back to camera) wheels in his 400lb B-3 every Tuesday
and jams with another B-3 playa and the band.

Chris Heath: a music writer you should get to know.

If you’re familiar with music journalist Chris Heath, it’s probable that you’re an Anglophile of the highest order. After all, Heath is a Brit whose subjects tend more often than not to be artists with popularity that doesn’t necessarily translate to American audiences; they’re also artists at whom your traditional rock and roll fans often tend to turn up their noses. Nonetheless, I say to you that if you’re a music fan, period, and you’re looking for a new book to keep you occupied, you really need to check these tomes out, as they offer extremely funny and highly fascinating insights into the world of popular music:

Pet Shop Boys, Literally

C’mon, don’t tune out on me now. I assure you, it doesn’t matter one bit whether you like or even care the slightest bit about the Pet Shop Boys. It’s a great read either way, focusing on how the duo prepare and embark upon a tour of Hong Kong, Japan, and Great Britain, and the backstage and behind-the-scenes look at the pair provide a no-holds-barred, fly-on-the-wall examination of what it’s like to maintain a chart career of such considerable longevity. One bit in the book which has always stuck with me is when Chris Lowe – he’s the one who usually just sits sullenly behind the keyboards while singer Neil Tennant takes the spotlight – discusses how he likes certain tiny bits of songs…like, for instance, the “uh-uh-oh” bit in Paula Abdul’s “Straight Up,” or the part in Kylie Minogue’s “I Should Be So Lucky,” where she sings, “I should be so lucky / Lucky, lucky, lucky.” As Lowe says, “If that’s banal, it’s a strength. It’s just a mark of pure genius.”

Pet Shop Boys versus America

Heath’s relationship with Tennant and Lowe proved so successful that he wrote a sequel, focusing on the band’s subsequent tour of the U.S., where, as I implied earlier, their profile is nothing compared to what it is elsewhere. (Ask people about the band in the States, and you can expect an instant reference to 1985’s “West End Girls.”) You may or may not enjoy this one as much, depending on how thin your skin is when it comes to patriotic matters, but, again, it’s imminently readable.

Feel

It is possibly not coincidental that the subject of Heath’s next book, Robbie Williams, had worked with Tennant on the song, “No Regrets” (which appeared on Williams’ 1998 album, I’ve Been Expecting You). The resulting book is, as it happens, arguably better than the two Pet Shop Boys books, providing a look at a very complicated individual who leapt from teen stardom as a member of Take That into a solo career which has taken him around the world and back…but never to success in the USA. There’s a painful but true observation by Heath when Williams is preparing to perform a promotional gig for a radio station in America, where he indicates that this same set of songs would be performed by Williams for 375,000 people later in the summer…but, today, he’s playing for less than 20. (As it happens, his enthusiasm level is approximately the same for both, which is to say that it’s through the roof no matter how many people he’s playing for.)

Anyway, as I say, you’re probably skeptical, and you’ve got every right to be, but I swear to you: if you take the risk and make the purchase, you will enjoy these books.

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