Don’t teach me how to dougie. Lord. Here’s hoping you don’t and here’s hoping that if you do, you learned it in a drunken haze of unintentional comedy. It had been a minute since the latest group-dance, simultaneous dancefloor motion song. Whoever these kids are, their timing was impeccable. I guess they deserve some credit for that (at least).
This post will seemingly have very little structure. It’s been a minute since we went all stream of consciousness around here. We’re going to preach now.
Football season’s damn near here. Kenny Chesney is doing his best to make me hate football. Have you seen this sentimental attempt at glorifying sport? Yeah, I know, I know. Everyone loves football. Folks in the south DEFINITELY love football. I’m with them too. Yes, I can (and do) get emotionally attached to events revolving around said sport on Saturdays and Sunday from September to January. That said, this seems to be a clear case of pandering to Uncle Rico type (we woulda been state champions), glory days remembering, “high school was the BEST, MAN” country music fans. Damn. Is it that easy? To make it worse, Chesney decided to toss in reputable football personalities to give it some amount of credibility (errrgh, angry, why?!).
The thesis? If you’re going to a southern city to watch football at any point in the next three months, prepare to hear this one ad nauseam.
Moving on. I suppose it’s worth mentioning Jersey Shore now. After getting caught up on season 2, I can now state – with conviction – that I know the exact point the wheels of society came flying off sending our future careening into a faulty guardrail and down an embankment of fire and sharp objects. In addition, I can also say “Jersey Shore is simply amazing, trainwreckish TV brilliance.” Yep. We’re apparently steering that aforementioned careening societal vehicle. HOWEVAH – If you think the Jersey Shore kids (who are mostly grown ass adults) are poor representatives of New Jersey, there’s this show called Real Housewives of New Jersey (on one of 1000 cable networks) that actually does a far more efficient job of making New Jersey appear 100% undesirable. Classy. We know that NJ has redeeming qualities, but for the love of God, can New Jersey stop getting shit on when it comes to reality TV? OH – and SO glad that Enrique Iglesias tore himself away from Anna Kournikova to shoot the worst video in who-knows-how-long. Big ups, hero.
Matt and Kim made the first single (Cameras) of their upcoming album (Sidewalks) available yesterday. You can hear it here. The video of Matt’s interview is pretty funny, too.
Speaking of NPR, if you have a compatible phone, NPR Music’s app is bad ass. Just a shameless plug for those working on contributions of listeners like you (or me . . . or you, whatever).
I think everyone should start preparing themselves to hear a lot of “Arcade Fire” when the whole “Best Album of 2010” question gets asked. There’s a lot of highly-anticipated new albums still to come, but I think I might be right about this. Big Boi might have something to say in that conversation as well.
If you still aren’t going here every so often to see what they’ve added / created, you’re cheating your ears (YAY! YOU’RE VS. YOUR).
I think I’ve rambled long enough. The structured / typical INLE posts will be back quick, fast and in a hurry. Here’s one to listen on. Since this was all kind of, well . . . the song title should tie it up in a nice, pretty bow.