"remix jam session mixtape" - yeah, I'm sure

You like good music? I like good music some. So does Melanie Fiona, apparently. And....Indians? You like Indians, Fiona? Shoot your costume director. But one thing they can't take from you, is that you can sing. For sure. If people from Philly think so, then there's not much reason to dispute it.

So you got ?uestlove to do a "remix jam session mixtape" of your album, The Bridge? That's pretty awesome too. Apparently he can play the drums and it sounds like a drum machine. In fact, he took a picture over my shoulder once, and let me tell you, I almost melted. But back to the point. Music. For those of you who are into soul, download the "remix jam session mixtape":

http://www.zshare.net/download/62679118d27a6686

Cus it's FREE! And I don't mind free.

Props to ?uestlove for putting out free music, OKAY PLAYER! You're cool. And as a taste maker, well, he's (mostly) on the money. But Fiona, as a soul connoisseur it is absolutely imperative that you have a record player. Srsly! Ladies and Gentlemen, if you don't believe me, look for yourself. It's a video. You're cute, Melanie. Tata!

90's Throwbacks Are the New Black

The Marvelous Observers trend spotters have come across a curious phenomenon: 90's throwbacks!

Bbbut, it was only 10 years ago, you say? We know. But Rob Thomas thinks it may be worth something.

HA, are you serious? the Goo Goo Dolls called, they want their bracelets back. Rob Thomas, go home! It wasn't good when it first came out and it's not good now. And just cus it's "captured in High-Definition with 5.1 Surround Sound" doesn't make it worth my money.

With back up singers and a real keyboard you give the impression of having put some serious thought into how to squeeze every last dime out of your past fame. Unfortunately WE ARE ON TO YOU! Nothing escapes these eagle eyes.

The Internet is omniscient though, so we shall give it the option to judge for itself - samples to follow:

http://kochent.edgeboss.net/wmedia/kochent/e1homevideo/rt_problemgirl.wvx

http://kochent.edgeboss.net/wmedia/kochent/e1homevideo/rt_ifyouregone.wvx

http://kochent.edgeboss.net/wmedia/kochent/e1homevideo/rt_3am.wvx

Gah! I cannot voice my disinterest loudly enough. But 'tis the beauty of the intertubes; if one frustrated hipster screams in a forest (aka the internet) of frustrated hipsters - can any one hear? YES! YOU'RE READING THIS, AREN'T YOU!

Teknologiez Of Our Timez

How Awesome. Support Your Local Musician. Become fan of these up and coming, hungry rockers! Gold Fiction, WHAT!!

Gold Fiction on Facebook

Mommy XXX...WTF???

The sick puppies at Crackle TOTES hit the Oedipus nerve with this one. Masked Blogger - I spite you with SINGLE MOMS! PORN STAR SINGLE MOMS!

Advertised as a cross between "The Osbournes" and "Girls Next Door" Mommy XXX airs every Thursday on Crackle.com. Naturally, it follows Demi Delia, an ex porn star and single mom, and exposes her personal life. Get this, episodes include winning subjects like "...her daughter’s first visit to the gynecologist; a typical day at “the office;” her breast augmentation surgery... " etc.

I smell comedy gold...and, potentially, TITTIES!

HA! They even sent me a clip for you lowlifes.

From Crackle: Party with Pornstars

Watchem and weep.

The Chronicles of the Masked Blogger, Part Two

Days passed. Slowly. Sleepless nights. Weekend benders. I tried to tell myself that it didn't matter but I couldn't get the Masked Blogger out of my head. When I wasn't self-medicating I tried to keep myself busy with my own writing projects but the Blogger stayed lodged in my brain like a steel toothpick in a blueberry muffin.

A Couple of months back, I had run up on some hard luck. Horses. Guess you could say I'm a gambling man. Truth is, I've been from Vegas to Atlantic City, up, down and then up again...this time was different, though. Things went from bad to worse one rainy night in April when two tough guys showed up in my storefront window and offered me a "proposition." They walked in, all smiles. Shit, if I hadn't been around the block a few time, I woulda though they were just a couple of good, ol' boys who had gotten lost in the city and needed directions. That is until they bloodied up my face and pulled a knife on me. They wanted to know if I had heard of their employer, Mick. Sure, I told them - everyone knows Mick - they called him Mick "The Nose." That gave them a pause and I thought they ready for round 2 with my face as the punching bag. Instead, they glared and said I had 2 weeks to pay or I may find myself the recipient of an all-expenses paid trip - to the bottom of the East River.

After the goons left, I sat down to think - thought long and hard. The funny part is that it takes an experience like this for a man to take stock of his life. Here I was, a 30-something, washed up P.I., disgraced former detective and amateur writer. Now I was about to go and get myself killed. Shit, if you could separate yourself from it for a moment, it was damn funny.

But I wasn't laughing. I sat at my desk and looked at the empty pages in my typewriter for the next two nighst, listening to the rain showers outside. Two nights later, that's when this dame showed up at my door, saying she need me to help her find someone. Why me, I asked her? Told me she had done some research and that for the price range, heard I was the best. We didn't exchange pleasantries - got right into it. What can you tell me about him, I asked her. Said he was a writer. Interesting I told her, so am I. She couldn't look more disinterested. I asked - what else?

"He wears a mask."

The Ultimate Realist

T4 Motherf*cker

WOP! this one's for you.
bitches.

AN INTRODUCTION...TO THE SHITTIEST ALBUMS OF ALL-TIME

PRELUDE TO AN INTRODUCTION, Part One

Hey everyone -

I mentioned in my last post that I'm turning over a new leaf as far as blogging. With that in mind, I wanted to introduce my first guest writer, as well as their new weekly column.

As far as what I can tell you about this person...it's not much. I've only met them once and (he? she?) insisted on meeting at 3am on the docks by the East River. (He? She?) was wearing a pantyhose mask, trenchcoat and continually asked if I was wearing a wire. Despite his/her paranoia, we shook hands and made the verbal agreement that led to this feature.

Before I knew it, this mysterious figure quickly began making their way back into the night. "But you didn't even tell me your name," I cried out. In the distance, the masked creature turned their head back ever so slightly. "The Masked Blogger," they whispered and then disappeared into the shadows.

AN INTRODUCTION
What does it take to create the Shittiest Album of All Time? I could sit hear and rattle off hundreds of merely shitty, awful - hell, downright soul-crushing albums all day long. But that would be a little cheap. Just like the Hollywood blockbuster, top 40-ready crap will continue to roll off of the assembly line with the same amount of care as your average, shittily-made American car. As long as cynical corporate execs live - there will always American Idol, Clear Channel Radio, T-Pain and Rihanna. As a wise man once said, "No one ever went broke underestimating the intelligence of the American people."

And don't get me wrong, I would love to go after those people. Besides the potential entertainment value involved, there is the fact that I'm an extremely angry person. Every chance I get to unload a bitter, immature rant and spew my poisonous bile onto the world at large (or conversely, the two people reading this blog)- that's one less chance I will walk into the United States Post Office wearing only a jock strap and toting an AK-47.

But that would be intellectually dishonest. I'm believe that to create something truly awful, there must be a substantial amount of talent and ambition involved. What I'm interested in is the point where that talent and ambition go wrong. I mean horribly, horribly wrong. Potentially career-ending wrong. Like "oops, sorry we dropped those two atomic bombs on you" wrong.

And with that in mind: let's set some ground rules. Please behold the The Somewhat Arbitrary and Purposefully Vague Ground Rules that it takes to qualify as one of the Shittiest Albums of All-Time. An album or artist must meet no less than one of the following criteria to earn a spot in the annals of this esteemed Spot of Blog.


1) The artist must have, at one time, demonstrated greatness, very-goodness, or very strong promise. This includes anyone from an artist who bears the legendary status to a young band who recorded a good debut.
2) It must be an album that is universally considered great from a critical standpoint.
3) An album that is not necessarily considered great, or even good, but sold very, very well.
4) No artist is above creating one of The Shittiest Albums of All-Time

Stayed tuned for the first post.

-The Masked Blogger