Dave’s hates of 2006.

The long list of things that pissed me off in 2006.

Paula Denada. Rather than get into a “thing” again, I am just going to say this chick bothers me to no end with her music.

Her new single has a rapper for urban stations and not one on pop stations. It’s one thing to have a remix, it’s another to be the focus of dual minority marketing forces when she’s no older than 17.

In her second single, “Walk Away” she opens up the song by complimenting her ex boyfriend: for her new girlfriend, and does so in a way that sounds Sapphic.

++++

Puff Daddy

First I’m pissed he’s still around. He’s not on top exactly but it’s still been ten years. I would have wagered dollars to donuts that he’d die off faster than boy bands.

Second, he’s clearly dong payola with MTV for his new singles. No one I know has bought or listened to his album. I say this with this as my personal reference.

1. The people I hang out with have some of the more diverse tastes and lifestyles.

2. I work at a hotel where all sorts of people come in everyday. I hear what music they are listening to and ask where they are visiting from.

3. I spend long binges on myspace music boards about every 3 months. It’s a problem. Nobody even defends Diddy anymore.

I mean he was always bad, but at least he was ripping off good songs. Now the shit he’s making isn’t even ripped off from anything. Diddy, wanna know why you aren’t making hit albums anymore? You stopped ripping off top 10 hits of yesteryear. You don’t give up the bread and butter because Pro Active is helping you maintain your sexy.

And I hate him for coining that statement.

It’s not a question of if he is relevant anymore, it’s why young artists keep thinking he’s a hit maker when every other major producer is ten times more bankable than he is.

The thing about hating Diddy was that he made semi decent remixes of sometimes obscure 70’s era pop like “I’m coming out” and turned it into “mo’ money, mo’ problems.” I’m still not sure how much credit to give or take away from his involvement on Life After Death. But I know that his relevance is to Life After Death as Amnesiac is to Radiohead’s catalogue. Yeah, Life in Glass Houses is among their top 15 songs, but there are some awful tracks that beg why it wasn’t more focused; Puffy was the one who found between the sheets and I’m sure the opening montage is all his work and not C. Smalls, but every time he laughs or whispers bad boy I want to flip the song.

I mean he was a con artist who helped make two great albums, then got a taste for the limelight, stole from Sting, made the worst song in history in the process, and if “No Way Out” came out like it was supposed to before Bi got shot (Smalls was to play Puffy, and vice versa, and it was supposed to be tongue in cheek) Puffy would have been the George Martin of hip hop instead of Ringo.

All he’s done in the last 4 years is try to bring back Mase, run MTV’s Making the Band, and pimped proactive acne care. Sure he found Yung Joc, but I don’t think that’s a good thing. Not for me. For anyone. Now he’s rendered himself irrelevant as Cain, Black Rob, and the Lox. The music sucks. And he’s rich and still around.

I just wanted a blaze of glory ending, now we get his Sandinista.


Speaking of the making the band.

Danity Kane.

First off, really what kind of name is that? It’s like they scoured the Natal Wards at hospitals and found the most ridiculous baby name and put it in front of the last name of the character from one of the best films of all time. Combining black naming techniques with Orson Wells is equally mentally infuriating as it is pointless.

Second, the lead single of the group is nothing more than product name dropping.

Listen if you care.



What is the point of this song? It’s a bunch of girls singing that they are like rappers when it comes to bragging of wealth to buy luxury items. That and pointing out the seating arrangement of their car. It couldn’t be more insipid.

Never mind the logic as is. This is a bunch of hot girls oohing and aahing like Donna Summer in “Love to love you baby” as if they feel post coitus about rims and Maseratis.

The hooks of “OH OH” made me listen more than once, but I know when I am actively being given sex as a selling point. And just like in real life, I am not going to pay for the whore’s service, but I’ll listen to the pitch because it makes me feel funny downstairs.

++++

A quick short list:

A. Pitchfork picking “my love” by J-Tim as the #1 single. While I stopped paying attention to pitchfork months after staying on the bandwagon when everyone with any know how was trashing it (I still say that when it goes Hornby’s Songbook in record reviews, it’s everything I want to read in music criticism. Not the site, but the style) it’s still a handy toll for sorting through mass levels of new music without the distractions of blogger mp3’s sites, which can post Reggae from 1969 and rock from 2004 (I mean, I love it, but it’s impossible to filter out new stuff that may be of my liking).

But J-Tim as number one. Really!

REALLY?!

B. Bones by The Killers (more on them coming later). My bones on your bones. That doesn’t even make bad sense.

C. Wyclef in “Hips don’t lie” just one of the most pointless featuring specials ever.

D. Racism roundup:

1. In the wake of the Michael Richards scandal, Yung Dro makes a Japanese slur in “Rubberband Banks.” No one says anything.
2. In the wake of the Rosie blowback, her response to be angry at the implication was one thing. It’s another for her to out Clay Aiken in the name of gay rights.

I think if anything, Donald Trump should wage at her for being a passive aggressive. Just because the irony level would be through the roof.

It’s interesting when The View and Regis and Kelly have had two of the most awful fits of racism that doubled as hilarious. I’d like to see Kelly, Barbara, and Rosie talk about racial stereotypes. I think it would run the gamut of every bad preconception. I have written before women love to be racist when it comes in the guise of self defense.

3. I wish that someone prominent came to the defense of Mel Gibson or Michael Richards, with some level of apologetic condolence instead of outright venom.

For Mel, I think he lost all righteousness with the “Are you a Jew” comment. At the time, Israel had just finished bombing a country back into the 18th century and their vulnerability due to 1/3 of the impetus of the Iraq war logic. Not to say that it’s a blanket truth, but it’d be nice if Americans were given a decent explanation to why we side with Israel. If we are protecting the country from Terrorism, it’d be nice to hear why we support Israel in a logic sense instead of a compassionate protector argument. I’m not saying we need to change the policy, but it’d be nice for someone in the Gov. to defend - in plain English- why we stay with them when Osama and co. cite this as one of the main reasons they attack us. We were an isolationist country before WWII. That worked pretty well.

As for Kramer… I learned one thing. White people just can’t say that word. It’s curious because more has been done to create a bridge in the last 40 years politically, but in the end all of the overarching societal improvements fall meaningless when we allow ourselves to be pettily offended by archaic slurs.

I don’t know what to say about the issue other than I am disgusted by the state of America.

One. Richards wasn’t being derogatory. He was using the word to prove a point, and the point that was proven was not what he intended. He never reprimanded the man for being anything stereotypical, he was saying the word to be mean, not to be insulting. He was angry when he said it, but he wasn’t being classically racist. Not once did he demean the man, he just simply used a slur.

Two. Black leaders took this event as a forum for ending the N word. Yeah. I’ll be long in the ground before society forgets the words “nigger” and “nigga.” Not while Black, white, Latino, and everyone else are still around. Being black is a thing. It’s not a problem. People of Earth are going to have different skin tones. It’s the effect of the sun over years of evolution. I’m white (duh) and I don’t get offended by someone calling me a cracker or honkey or whatnot. It doesn’t mean anything because I know it’s a cheap shot and in the end, it’s character that matters.

Not to sound preachy or didactic, the difference between most white people comes when they want to flaunt their heritage, be it Italian, Jew, Irish, or whatnot. I have been taught- by a revisionist schooling method- that no race is better than the other.

Stop being a race. Stop being Black, Latino, Finnish, Russian, or Chinese. You came from somewhere, just like everyone else. Noting about you is special until you are special.

There is culture and there is color. While I grew up white, I never thought to care about why they are one sort of white and not another. I write this in 2007 because if you want to make the distinction.

I just wish someone would call them on it, by them I mean anyone. Say Lance Armstrong says something like “I find Floyd Landis’s demeanor niggardly following his tour win and controversy.” Then Jesse Jackson takes exception and Lance Armstrong says, “Look I faced cancer, the wrath of the foreign press, and won the hardest single athletic feat 7 times. I faced death and then won. And yet a single word hurts you? Are you that weak?”

It would take something like this for people to own up that unless it’s institutionalized, race differences are skin deep.

++++

The release plan for Children of Men by Universal. The film is going to find it’s audience. It’s just going to because it’s that great of a work.

But by the time the buzz becomes where it should be, the Oscars will be airing, and likely the film won’t be nominated. This was a buried job by the studio. While the Departed may win it all and bring Marty his first Oscar, it’s kind of a shame, because Cuaron’s work is that much better.

On another note:

I have an uncooked post about the best directed films of the decade.

The list portion follows:

5. Munich – Spielberg
4. Traffic and Ocean’s 11 – Soderbergh
3. Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban.
2. In the Bedroom – Todd Field
1. Batman Begins – Christopher Nolan.

I dreamed this up when I was watching BB almost daily, and doing the same with Prisoner of Azkaban when they were on HBO in the summer.

Anyway, I think the climatic scene pretty much nailed a spot on this list, though I’m not sure if he knocks off the Dark Night. But if Mr. Cuaron ever is to read this site, I say this:

And why do we fall? So we can learn to pick ourselves up.

I’m kind of glad something legitimate like Children of Men came along, because the top 3 movies on my list for this decade were LOTR: The Two Towers, The Incredibles, and Batman Begins. It’s nice to know this decade isn’t one of fantasy escapism in the wake of 9/11. Children of Men is the kind of film that should have been made in 2003, when the sense of what we could become with negative actions might have helped, you know, make W a one term aberration instead of a ruin on the world.

++++

So what would my worst of the year possibly be?

There are many reasonable choices.

And so I’ll bitch about Beyonce.

Mainly for “Irreplaceable.” The latest in the long line of sh-empowement (I think it’s funny if you read it as Shemp –owerment, but he never happened to the Three Stooges in my book.)

I have written before, she is one of the most destructive forces in America. It’s diva riffic life for her, and that’s all she writes about. At least Aretha sang about being in love for the right reasons… Beyonce is known to date one of the richest men of the world, and yet she’s got nothing but vitriol about life in her music.

So this song, which is about a rich woman throwing her boy toy out under suspicion cheating on her (honestly I’d be more forgiving of the travesty we are suffering to endure if there were actual proof, much like with W and WMD’s), and she kicks him out.

The “To da’ lef, to da lef” is a decent hook, but it’s empty because it’s needless righteous; I mean, a woman in a cougar position complains about taking a man into her life for companionship. Never does she mention the life lost, the investment spoiled, or the future soiled; it’s all about her.

What bothers me most is that she says “I can find another you in a minute/ in fact he’ll be here in a minute.” Avoiding the idea about rhyming a word with the same word, why the hell does she have another man ready? Isn’t this cheating if she is ready to move on after a mere 3 hours? She had a man ready, and yet she is bitter because her man had one too? I mean WTF!

Where is this song targeted to? I mean which woman in the world is a multi-millionaire who can buy a Bentley GT for her man, as well as designer clothes, and who has a mansion? How many of such people exist? And for god sake, how many of them would choose a lowlife like the man in the song? I’m almost tempted to ask, “Is this a black thing?” But it’s not about race or even gender, it’s about wealth, and why they hell would a woman smart enough to earn millions make such a blunder when it comes to a mate. I mean, Britney dumped her man (albeit much too late, but she got kids out of it), but really who is this song targeted to.

Are all artists today this vain?

Are we so enamored with them that their problems of financial freedom translate to mass art we can relate to. While I am sure this can be felt by women with deadbeat baby daddies or victims of abuse, it’s still not like Beyonce creates a familiar character, she’s just Beyonce in the song, not a character in a song, but a replication of her success.

In “Lost One” Jay Z writes about B being too attached to her work, so clearly she’s the selfish one. Even if she is a workaholic, hasn’t she at this point achieved enough to stop bitching about the petty stuff? She now has the ability to become something few people are, let alone a confident, black woman, a role model and a hero. In her art, she could transform herself into a great artist, someone who has the notoriety to return R&B to it’s glory, to stop worrying about sex selling the art because she has the marquee level to withstand career risks that most artists can’t.

But with her classic “black woman sitcom from the 80’s” MMMMMMMMN that opens “Irreplaceable” she’s clearly just selling to her base.

It’s like the CEO of Home Depot getting 250 million in severance for lowering the stock value of the company; the head of Enron avoiding judgment by dying in Aspen; she is getting rich by making the world worse.

Like the other two, and many more that could be listed, she is being rewarded for making the world lesser than when she became involved.

In her mind, the only victim is her. That’s a hard sell for me, a guy making somewhere around 37 G a year, and still toughing it out at times. I know many women who are making much worse, and yet still look to women like Beyonce for inspiration. I just wonder, what’s there to relate to. She had no struggle, she had no dark hours; the world was handed to her on a platter at 17. It’s not just a matter of who is she to complain, it’s that she continues to pretend she’s one of us.

++++

But on another note…as the world grows smaller via myspace, cable, satellite, and the net allow us to find new texts and media to love. While I am sure few people are familiar with everything I mentioned on this post, I am equally sure that it’s possible that someone stumbles upon this and knows nothing of what I wrote.

The era of the “Culture of Choice” is upon us, and the end is a world of entertainment at ones fingertips. The problem is, unless you watch something with a person, it’s hard to share media anymore. There is so much out there now everyone can find exactly what they want. In the wake of this is solitude… who are we as a county, state, or people if we don’t have familiar benchmarks.

For 40 years Looney Tunes was the only cartoon made for kids. Now, not only is there a network devoted to old cartoons, there are knock off channels. What used to be the joy of Saturday morning is now every day and every hour.

It’s hard enough working with people who have English as a second language; it’s bitter to know that they don’t know what you do. 20 years ago, I’d bet that a border crosser who barely spoke English at least knew of the Road Runner and Wile E. Coyote. Even if he couldn’t articulate “dynamite into a wall” we’d still be talking about the same cartoon.

Left are we but with fragments to build a bridge. Sadly, the common ground is shrinking.

But this is for me and all those who grew up on it.



For those who don’t know, I hope you find it. For those who do, I hope I am not alone in the idea that I will show Looney Tunes to my kids on DVD.