What the hell is this, some Halloween, Renn Faire Djent? I don’t know if I hate it or not, but I am pretty sure I don’t love it. Maybe I am just in a foul mood (I am).
Posts published in “Music”
“Sometimes people make a war.”
“Don’t know what it’s for.”
“Business.”
Oh, so you did know what it was for?
This is genuinely horrible. Unlike the previous post featuring Bangs, this is just plain bad. There’s nothing redeeming about this at all. Here, I think an early line from the song perfectly exemplifies what I mean: “I hope my black brothers feel the same like me. Dre, Snoop, Puff, L, Tupac Shakur, rest in peace, he was the best.” What the fuck, Speak? What the fuck.
“Nobody wants a war. Life is short. Yeeah, come on.”
It would hesitate to even call this trash “rapping”. It’s more of a spoken-word track à la Bill Shatner’s brand of musical violence, but without being funny. He’s so earnest, so deep, so heartfelt that I cannot help but feel sickened at his outpouring of emotion. Speak wants so badly to have written the next great hip-hop ballad, but it comes off as so fucking trite that it’s laughable. God, and the group of backup singers?! Holy crap.
When he threw up the dove at the end, I threw up for real.
Thanks (but no thanks), Monica!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HmJbJs-9ST0
This is an internet classic, and I am sure you can understand why. I mean, just look at it. Bad composites, silly song, inane content, utterly sincere performer, the whole thing might as well be an object lesson in the perfect viral internet video. And the Youtube hits—6,161,198 as of this writing—suggest that I am correct.
What I think is really great about this though is the purity and naïveté of the sentiment Bangs is expressing. It’s not about bitches and bling and popping 9s, but about taking some nice girl he fancies on a date where he is going to make sure she gets popcorn and has a nice time because he likes her. Beneath all the imported US trappings of modern hip hop (money everywhere, pimp gadgets, gold chains, the trappings of the “baller” life style) is a sweet song about young romance. “Let me take you to the movies, shorty. I’m sure later on you’ll be my baby.” He’s courting her with nary a mention of ass shaking or pussy popping. Refreshing, right?
“Hey shorty, where you at, where you going? Can I see you later, because I can see you’re busy right now.” Respectful to a fault. Good man, Bangs, good man.
I once saw Man Man perform here in Brooklyn a few years back at the Masonic Temple, a cool venue if you’ve never been. My friend Jesse dragged me along since he wanted to see Yeasayer who opened for them. And, since my girlfriend at the time wasn’t with me (and possibly out of town), I was really drunk. We met these British girls and were chatting with them when Yeasayer came on. I commented that the lead singer looked a lot like Rick Astley and sang the song as a joke and they commented that it was pretty good and it was.
Between the sets while Man Man was setting up, I wandered to get another drink with Kat and then went to find Jesse. I found him talking with the drummer from Yeasayer. I approached them. Jesse was telling the dude how big of a fan he was and how great the set was. Then I started in:
Me: Hey, you’re the drummer from Yeasayer, right?
Him: Yeah, man.
Me: Yeah, you guys were pretty all right. Not exactly my cup of tea, but it was a good set.
Him: Thanks.
Jesse: *worried*
Me: I really liked that one song that was pretty metal.
Him: Yeah, that’s my favorite one too!
Me: No shit, because all drummers are either into jazz or metal or both.
Him: Dude, I’m the only metalhead in the band!
Me: I know it.
At which point Jesse was beet red with shame, I toasted the dude, and wandered off. Later that night we were at a party and it was pretty fun and then I went home and thought, “Damn, what the hell.”
What does this have to do with Man Man? Not much. Get over it and watch the John Waters inspired video. I don’t need you to judge me.
http://vimeo.com/31045760
Here’s what I’ve learned from this video: Norwegians have complicated relationships with stuffed animals. Luckily, this document of their troubles with the cotton-filled kind is backed by a dreamy synthpop track which I think is great.
Here’s another break-up song, but more triumphant than the last one. I honestly know nothing at all about these guys and I am way too lazy to google them so you’ll have to deal with having zero description. You know what? Let’s make up a story.
Thomaz Klinglebaum, originally a member of Lithuanian EBM group Deine Ende, found himself DJing regularly in Berlin after the dissolution of his EBM group. One night after a long set of minimal tech house and gabber (strange mix, right?) he met with Anders Lutz, another DJ on the German house scene. Over a few litres of prime German beer and a pack of Nat Shermans, they discovered they both had an affinity for positive dreamy dance beats that they felt were lacking from the dour, sparse musical palate of tech house. They got together and produced the first Reptar record, releasing only a few 12″ singles of their now infamous underground sleeper hit, “A Blister’s Name.”
After their successful world tour opening for Daft Punk, Klinglebaum and Lutz went back to the studio to write their second record. When they had trouble making it come together in a fashion they were pleased with, they recruited indie rock icon Simon Spinwell, formerly of the now-defunct Possible Target, to provide soulful vocals and a little bit of flare to their recipe for musical greatness. “Blastoff” is the first single from that second record, and was inspired by Spinwell’s break up with pop starlet Angie Murch, or as people know her, Ms. Future.
See? That wasn’t so hard, was it? I bet their real story is more interesting than mine, but that would require some measure of research on my part and we all know that The Black Laser does not research. Are you still reading this?