music / Columns

Music’s 3Rs 01.21.13: Sean Dares You To Make Less Sense Than Chanel West Coast

January 21, 2013 | Posted by Sean Comer

“BROUGHT TO YOU BY…”

Vandelay Industries and 411mania.com present this week’s Music’s 3 Rs with limited suckitude, brought to you by the Southern & Longmore Starbucks in scenic Mesa, AZ, as well as the following. This new header to the weekly float down my river of dreams offers up to you just a few of my private-stock selections that I enjoy while writing every week.

Living Colour, “Cult of Personality”

Lindsey Stirling, “Shadows”

Jonathan Coulton, “Code Monkey”

Amanda Palmer & The Grand Theft Orchestra, “The Killing Type”

The Heavy, “How You Like Me Now?”

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Michael J. Fox to Taylor Swift: Step off…
Men of the World, I stand corrected: at least one among you all clearly gets it at last.

Tina Fey this past weekend made a Golden Globes moment worth crystalizing when she told blonde man-eating sociopath Taylor Swift to “stay away from” Michael J. Fox’s son, Sam. Funny, that: Vulture caught up with Marty McFly himself at a release party celebrating Ann Leary’s new book The Good House.

The Back to the Future, Spin City and Family Ties star went straight papa-bear like Swift had worn young Sam’s testicles as earrings.

“No. No … Just back off,” Fox said. “I don’t keep up with it all. But Taylor Swift writes songs about everybody she goes out with, right? What a way to build a career.

“I wouldn’t even know who she was,” he continued, describing the moment he’d probably realize just who had tap-danced on his son’s heart. “‘Sam, You Piece of Shit.’ Oh … that was the girl you brought home!”

Uh, Taylor? Is it sinking in yet, you soulless succubus?

By all means, keep treading water defending your rise up the charts at the expense of the hearts men keep giving you to leave in tatters. Not that your finally inspiring a gloriously correct photo meme doesn’t make the point in itself, but the word’s finally out. Consider putting the bullshit you sell on clearance to keep moving it, because now you’ve even hacked off somebody’s father.

Swift just keeps striking me as someone who just doesn’t completely understand what sets her predictable by-the-numbers heartbroken bitching apart from honest-but-multifaceted post-mortem treatises on broken loves by the likes of Gwen Stefani, Sheryl Crow or Adele, just to name a few. The above employed between them perspective, balanced attempts at goodwill, and even frank, grounded admissions that maybe the blame wasn’t all to be lain upon one set of shoulders alone.

Taylor? Well, we’ll get back to her round of “What The F*** Is Your Damage?!” shortly.

Meantime, we should grudgingly acknowledge that the oblivious dingus claims that she and Fox made amends recently after fandom-wide hissy fits directed at Fox via her Twitter. “Hey everybody, Michael J. Fox got in touch with me today and we are good. Thank you for having my back,” Swift tweeted.

Hopefully, “we are good” means “Alex P. Keaton struck the fear of God into me, and I’m now converting to lesbianism.”

BuzzFeed deconstructs a hosebeast
Though I found Michael J. Fox and Tina Fey giving Taylor Swift a verbal equivalent to a 3-D through a flaming table terribly satisfying, ‘twas BuzzFeed that lit up my post-coital cigarette and smugly asked, “So, was it good for you?” with a thoughtful little dissection called simply “Does Taylor Swift hate other women?”

Normally, I’d summarize the story in question as succinctly as possible here. I won’t do so this time, because to do so could possibly inadvertently discourage you from reading the entire piece. In truth, I propose the exact opposite.

To be somewhat brief, the article diverges from typical lyrical criticisms zeroing in exclusively upon Swift’s public emasculation of every man that’s ever deigned to take more than a day to call her back after a first date. Instead, BuzzFeed breaks down the many ways that Swift’s songs project to the world the passive-aggressive, catty teenaged frost bitch that rules her internally.

“In ‘Better Than Revenge’, she takes a swipe at a girl who apparently stole her boyfriend, ‘She’s an actress/But she’s better known for the things that she does on the mattress.’ The Queen of Wholesome often employs guilt-mongering tactics to put down the mean girl/cheerleader types who, she assures us, are more sexual than her,” the article cites from an equally thought-out Hercampus.com piece, observing her tendency to “slut-shame” remorselessly.

Honestly? I can’t wait for the day when what’s been going around finally comes around. I find it as jarring as you probably do to think of John Mayer ever taking what anybody could really call “The High Road,” but what else could I call Lord Douche-Nozzle declining to return fire lyrically at Swift after her taking aim at him?

Every bully finally picks on someone who strikes back.

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Tenacious D putting together the comedy-rock festival destiny intended
Take your lofty, unattainable standards elsewhere if you don’t see how this possibility smacks of something that deserves a full-scale touring production.

Tenacious D’s Jack Black told Rolling Stone recently, while expressing his satisfaction at the comedy duo’s 2013 Grammy nod, that he and cohort Kyle Gass are in the throes of putting together a fall comedy-rock festival.

It’s early, but he’s already name-dropping the likes of Flight Of The Conchords, Tim Minchin, Eric Idle, Lonely Island, Zach Galifianakis, and Spinal Top from the pair’s wish list. What’s more, he and Gass have laid out a target date.

“We’ve always wanted to do a double bill,” Black said. “We’re working on a festival, called Festival Supreme. It’ll be a meeting of the minds. It’s gonna be like Mount Rockmore, where you’ve got your Flight of the Conchords, your Lonely Island, your Tenacious D, your Zach Galifianakis, your Spinal Tap, your Eric Idle.

“October 19, circle that in your calendar,” he added, despite not having so much as a targeted venue yet. “Now there’s no guarantee who’s gonna be on the bill – it might just be Tenacious D and Weird Al (Yankovic). But that’s a long ways off.”

Throw in Jonathan Coulton with Garfunkel and Oates, and I will tricycle to Timbuktu to witness this. Also, is it just me, or is a first-of-its-kind “meeting of the minds” like this the kind of thing that calls – nay, begs and demands — that someone perhaps coerce Steve Martin to dust off his banjo?

Yeah, now I’m just getting greedy.

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Andre 3000 disputes calling “Pink Matter” an Outkast reunion
Much gets lost in translation at any given moment.

Andre 3000 feels that something wasn’t made very clear regarding portrayal of his teaming with Outkast-mate Big Boi to remix Frank Ocean’s “Pink Matter”. To put a fine point upon it, he explained to Spin that the pair’s collaboration with the freshman Grammy nominee shouldn’t be seen as heralding the pair once more properly assembling as Outkast.

Previously, Big Boi tweeted, “Dre didn’t want an OutKast Record Coming out on anybody else LP.”

Though the explanation made sense enough at the time, Andre released a somewhat pedantic recent statement explicitly stressing further what he would and would not recognize as the coming together once more of the ATLien overlords of Stankonia.

“It’s important for me to be clear about the origins of my contributions to ‘Pink Matter’ and [T.I.'s] ‘Sorry.’

“I was approached as a solo artist by both Frank Ocean & Tip. I discussed musical direction with each artist and completed my verses. It was after that when Big Boi’s name came up.

“I never want to mislead our audience – I worried that some would think these were Outkast collaborations. These songs are not Outkast collaborations. I discussed this rationale with Big, Frank and T.I. and everyone agreed. That is why I was surprised to read about these remixes.

“I understand that anyone can put out an unofficial remix to any song but I have an obligation to be honest with fans about what this is … and what it isn’t.”

Pedantically picking at nits? Perhaps. But he makes a valid point.

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Chanel West Coast: Not (completely) sure if serious…
(Thanks to my good friend Cole Marentette for answering my cavalry call via Facebook to supply the perfect Cookie Monster pic to accompany this.)

I made it 42 seconds, Babies.

I couldn’t make it a full minute into the video below before my laughter started cutting off my breathing.

Ladies, gentlemen and others, meet Chanel West Coast. Meet your ultimate, conclusive, damning evidence that attractiveness never completely offsets being a vapid doofus.

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I find myself way out upon a limb with this one, Younglings. I can’t tell from “Eat My Cookie” whether I’ve been “gotten.”

According to Wikipedia and an archive of her “former” website listed among the annotations, this special snowflake named Chelsea Chanel Dudley made her “breakthrough” as Rob Dyrdek’s rapping receptionist on MTV’s Rob Dyrdek’s Fantasy Factory. She auditioned for the gig shortly after “indirectly” meeting Dyrdek via ChristianSingles.com.

That last tidbit will become exponentially funnier after actually hearing “Eat My Cookie.”

I can’t divine a clear line here between “ironically parodying Ke$ha” and “striving to be taken ‘seriously’, while comically oblivious to actual perception.” The first point of contention? “Chanel West Coast.”

No. No f***ing way I’m buying it. That’s a satirical stripper name. I don’t want to believe that she suggested this and someone said, to borrow from Patton Oswalt, “Stop drilling, you’ve struck oil!” That would imply that rare instance in which “too good/funny to be true” is actually the hand-to-God gospel.

Nobody does my job for me that effectively.

The second problem, though? If she’s trolling the entire music community, she’s covered her tracks thoroughly – too thoroughly to be believed, in fact. The Notorious M.S.G. make the satire plain as day. Garfunkel and Oates, Flight of the Conchords, The Lonely Island and Tenacious D make no bones that despite admirable rudimentary musical ability, they’re comedians/actors first and musical artists second.

Nothing betrays that she means anything except to be taken seriously. By “taken seriously,” I of course mean not that she endeavors to invoke Tori Amos’ bare vulnerability or Amanda Palmer’s sardonic wit, but that she’s actually trying to write music that could be described some way more positively than “sounds like it was written by someone mildly brain-damaged.”

“What is ‘Eat My Cookie’ about,” you ask? What do you think a duck-faced, lily-white-girl rapper who both looks like and has a name suggesting she just got off her shift at the Spearmint Rhino is probably rapping about under a title like that? What’s the most obvious, ham-fisted, not-even-making-a-half-assed-attempt-at-being-clever innuendo that hits your mind?

Yes, your first guess is the one you should go with.

I couldn’t make it a full minute. This is rap’s equivalent to Tommy Wiseau’s The Room. This type of dim-witted lyricism inspired Garfunkel and Oates’ “This Party Just Took a Turn for the Douche.” I laughed with Riki Lindhome and Kate Micucci. I really don’t know which I should be doing here – the above, or the other thing?

You’re 100-percent on your own here, Children. I can’t tell if I’m being trolled or not.

Could anything really be this obliviously stupid? Is this actual effort at work?

Please, tell me in the comments how far into the song you made it before you lost your shit.

The sun’s comin’ up…I’m ridin’ with Lady Luck
That’s the Week that Was, One and All. Next week, in addition to the added above new feature, look for an expanded emphasis on news. It’s time to deliver to you all a broader informative experience than ever before, and that starts with a richer, fuller-bodied rendition of each section.

Admittedly, that also means being a bit more reticent to make Jeremy Lambert’s woman my cannon fodder.

And now, in the interest of sending you away enlightened and fulfilled, here’s the cream in your coffee, Babies – MOMENT OF GWAR!

Keep your powder dry and your stick on the ice. I’m Sean. You’re not. Never dull your colors for someone else’s canvas.

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Sean Comer

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