Posts tagged ‘Madonna’

February 14, 2012

Whitney

by ANDREW J HICKS

"I wanna smoke a pile of rocks THIS BIG!"

My generation contains a subset of dorky guys who like girls but have a love for the cheesy adult-contemporary and pop hits of the ’80s and ’90s. I’ve got a friend — loves pussy, loves Michael Bolton even more.

Me, I’ve got musical guilty pleasures out the ass, but I have a special fondness for the Hot Diva Pop of the Reagan/Bush/Clinton years. Music that makes you look gay from women you’d love to fuck. I’m talking about early Mariah, Janet, Vanessa Williams, Paula Abdul, Madonna and, yes, Whitney Houston.

So when Whitney was found dead in a hotel room at age 48 last Saturday, it was a cause for mourning and reflection. There were also many crack jokes involved also. Because, let’s face it — it’s funny.

A coworker complained to me that Whitney was no great legend, that she only had like 6 popular songs. I told him I could name 20 Whitney Houston songs that charted. He didn’t believe me. I rattled them off: You Give Good Love, Saving All My Love For You, Greatest Love of All–

Another coworker interrupted: “How many can you name that don’t have the word ‘love’ in the title?”

I got to 19 Whitney songs and blanked. My general manager, who had arrived around the time I listed Song 13, chimed in, “What about [singing] My Name Is Not Susan“? And I had my 20. How could I have forgotten about the WORST Whitney song ever played on the radio? I started singing, “My name is not Bobby, but my husband’s name is.”

Later, I remembered Whitney’s 1991 live version of The Star Spangled Banner at the Super Bowl. It was released as a single at the height of combat operations during the first Gulf War. You’d better believed it charted. A fourth coworker told me, “You know, at the time, no one had any idea that Whitney lip synched that Super Bowl performance.” I’d had no idea. “Yeah, he said, “saw that one on E! about 6 years ago.”

The weird thing about famous people dying young is, it brings the living closer together, if just in a minor way, for a short amount of time. Whitney, I respect your achievements. I love about 15 of your songs. I even watched your movies. And my coworkers and I had fun remembering you. Rest in peace.

July 16, 2011

Lost Rock Concept Collaborations

edited by ANDREW HICKS
creatively conceived by ERTEL GRAY and SARACAKES

Metallica scores movie starring Kermit and Miss Piggy: MASTER OF MUPPETS.

Woody Allen writes lyrics for Madonna album: NEUROTICA.

Courtney Love and Jonathan Davis hit the road: THE KORN/HOLE TOUR.

Stevie Nicks and Lindsey Buckingham’s album tribute to dance fads: FLEETWOOD MACARENA.

On the road with Styx and The Stones: THE WE’LL BREAK YOUR BONES TOUR.

Snoop Dogg’s long-awaited children’s album: HOW MUCH IS THAT DOGGYSTYLE IN THE WINDOW?

Britney Spears covers Pink Floyd: COMFORTABLY DUMB.

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March 12, 2011

Shoulda Died Young: A WNF Free-For-All

by WE’RE NOT FUNNY
edited by ANDREW HICKS

INSCRUTABLE JEFFREY TROTTER
So Elton John was seriously a genius for the first half of the ’70s. Then he put out the godawful “Crocodile Rock,” became a cartoon character, started writing almost exclusively for cartoon characters, almost went bankrupt because he spends some stupid amount on fresh flowers and now is just an aged celebrity more famous for being out of the closet than anything he’s actually done over the last 15 to 20 years.

ANDREW HICKS
That gets me thinking, who are some pop culture stars who would’ve had more respectable careers had they died early? Would Gallagher have become a revered cult comedian had he been assassinated in 1985?

BUDDAH ESKEW
I thought Gallagher drowned in a freak melon juice accident in 2002.

INSCRUTABLE JEFFREY TROTTER
I think a lot of rock stars will fit under here. Does anyone revere anything the Rolling Stones or The Who have put out in the last 30 years? Those are pretty easy targets, though.

ANDREW HICKS
I think “Beast of Burden” is 31 years old, so you’re probably right.

Brando, after he should've been long-dead

INSCRUTABLE JEFFREY TROTTER
I’m gonna go with Marlon Brando. By the time he went toes up, he was just a crazy fat man who spent the majority of his time on his private island. Let’s say he actually died during the making of Apocalypse Now. Sure he’d be remembered as being a bit strange, but that would be far, far outweighed by his career as an actor. On top of that, Apocalypse Now (which already has a mythic quality to it) goes to a whole new level in the history of film.

LINDSAY HARTLEY
Michael Jackson. I woulda loved to have seen one of the mommas of the little boys he touched just slit his throat.

INSCRUTABLE JEFFREY TROTTER
MJ is another way-too-easy target, though. If I’m going pop stars of the ’80s, I’d say Madonna. I know Ray of Light and Music are solid works, but what if she had died in 1989 after putting out Like a Prayer? She goes out with possibly her most ambitious album and becomes the <a href="John Cazale of pop music. More importantly if she croaks in 1989, she avoids all the drama of Dennis Rodman, Jose Canseco and Alex Rodriguez. The Kabbalah nonsense never comes up. Her marriage to Guy Ritchie and the subsequently horrid film Swept Away never happen. No one makes any jokes about how muscled up she’s become.

ANDREW HICKS
A Madonna who dies in 1989 is still a Madonna who starred in Shanghai Surprise.

INSCRUTABLE JEFFREY TROTTER
Well… no career is perfect. Except John Cazale’s, as he can’t help that Francis Ford Coppola raped his corpse by putting footage of him into Godfather III.

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January 28, 2011

Hate Music: A WNF Free-For-All

by WE’RE NOT FUNNY
edited by ANDREW HICKS

QUESTION: What enduring popular songs or music acts can you absolutely not stand?

J.MIZ: I hate anything by The Doors. I hate Metallica. I hate Trent Reznor — the only time I’d use a strap-on on a d00d. I never ever liked Nirvana. Madonna suck began with Ray of Light. I like one Led Zeppelin song. And I really don’t give two shits about Smashing Pumpkins.

ANDREW HICKS: I’ve been going to regular karaoke for almost a decade, and there are a handful of cliches whose single opening notes instantly and eternally grate on me. Bob Seger‘s “Turn the Page” might be the most heinous offender. Faith Hill‘s “Breathe,” Martina McBride‘s “My Daughter’s Eyes” and “I Hope You Dance” from Lee Ann Womack are the trifecta of suicidally bad chick adult-contemporary country.

VICKIE SAUSEDA: “Mickey.” Toni Basil is a fucking cock tease. First she wants to go home, then she wants him around. Back and forth. Also, what kind of dipshit woman tells her man he’s pretty? And, on a personal level, “Mickey” rhymes with “Vickie.” Why do people think I want this song, damn clapping and all, sung to me?

C.J. DODD: I hate Ke$ha. The dollar sign in her name comes from the large amount of single dollar bills she received when she sold out.

ANNE GARDNER: “I Honestly Love You,” by Olivia Newton John. Worst. Lyrics. Ever. Honestly.

WOO: Anything by bands with the name of a city — Boston, Chicago, etc. Fuck em all! And anything by The Eagles. Used to love them, now can’t stand them at all since that Hell Freezes Over bullshit.

MICHELLE DEE: Get over it, Woo… I hate anything by Olivia Newton John. Her voice makes my teeth ache. I also hate “We’re Not Gonna Take It” from Twisted Sister.

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December 11, 2010

Christmas Muzak

by ANDREW HICKS

Every year around Thanksgiving, the musical floodgates open and heap steaming piles of reindeer dung on our listening ears. Anyone can drop a Christmas album at any time. Rick Springfield and the Captain and Tennille both released Christmas albums in 2007. Not 1982. Two thousand and freaking seven! And Toby Keith has a double-disc Christmas album! And I’ve heard it – the entire second disc is nothing but up-tempo boot-stomping songs about how Santa Claus doesn’t bring presents to towel-headed boys and girls.

Despite the flood of product, there’s really just a handful of Christmas songs, and there’s only so much you can do with the lyrics. Take: “It’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas.” Now there’s an observant soul who’s been to a shopping mall sometime since September. Nice work, poetic lyricist.

Or: “I’ll be home for Christmas… if only in my dreams.” Try using that one the next time your grandma invites you to that three-hour Christmas worship service at her Pentecostal church all the way across town. “Mom, thank you, I can’t wait, and I will definitely be there… if only in my dreams.”

That logic can be applied with very broad strokes. Maybe I’ll be a multi-billionaire with magic powers and a set of blond 19-year-old twins for Christmas… if only in my dreams.

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