I got flack for it in 1999 from my ‘serious’ music-loving friends and I’ll probably get flack for it again – but I’m owning it! Back in 1999, during the genesis of the new(est) wave of boy band hysteria, LFO’s (oy, that stands for Lyte Funkie Ones) “Summer Girls” left an indelible, deliciously cheesey mark on the TRL-saturated terrain of teen pop. Sure, it was lyrically stupid and sophomoric, but it read like any teenage boy’s stupid, sophomoric love letter to his girl. And it was one of my Top 10 Singles of that year.
Sadly, Rich Cronin – lead, uh, ‘singer’ – died earlier today at the age of 35 after being diagnosed with Acute Myelogenous Leukemia in 2005. Cronin – and LFO – never again reached the highs of “Summer Girls” (though came close with the Top 10 “Girl On TV” – the video starred Cronin’s then-girlfriend Jennifer Love Hewitt) – the monumental royal battle between the Backstreet Boys vs. ‘N Sync was too mighty for the minuscule armies who attempted to reach that hierarchy, where even the semi-successful ones (e.g. the gruesome 98°) were scoffed and decimated. Cronin did appear in the short-lived 2007 Vh1 reality show MISSION: MAN BAND, which consisted of other former teen-pop boy band members and chronicled their attempt at one last shot of superstardom.
Sadly, for Cronin, it never happened, though it was said he enjoyed the ride. I’m glad. RIP, Rich. And as for “Summer Girls”, thank you for that little piece of goopy heaven.
Dobie Gray’s version of “Drift Away” is, justifiably, the most famous and, by far, the most brilliant reading of the Mentor Williams-penned (that would be Paul Williams’ brother) 70s staple. Originally released on John Henry Kurtz’ 1972 REUNIONalbum, the indelible classic always takes me away…to that far away place I used to reside – within the deepest caverns of my soul. At times the song makes me weep, as I miss the halcyon days of my youth and the kinder world we thrived in. When any ills of the world would be swept away when reaching for your LP of your favorite music was all that was needed to, well, drift away.
And when my mind is free...you know a melody can move me...and when I'm feelin' blue...the guitar's comin' through to soothe me...
The song was covered hundreds of times these past 40 years, most famously and recently in a passionless 2003 recording by Uncle Kracker. Credited as Uncle Kracker featuring Dobie Gray, the track meandered along in karaoke sterility until finally Gray’s soul chimed in mid-point and he infused it with a thrilling tremble. When the track reached #9 on Billboard’s Top 100, Gray broke the record for the biggest gap between top US top 10 appearances (it had been 30 years between both). The Kracker version had a far more major impact on Billboard’s Adult Contemporary charts – it holds the record as the longest #1 on that chart, having reigned for 28 weeks in 2003-04. No doubt thanks to Gray.
There was a story told by Kracker that the song was initially written for Elvis, but Presley turned it down once he heard Gray’s version of it. Gray was a demo singer in Memphis at the time. Talk about decree.
Gray’s had a decades-long career. While never matching the mega-success of “Drift Away” (Uncle Kracker notwithstanding), he’ s recorded dozens of albums. HERE is his Wikipedia page – spelunk and learn.
Lest anyone think I’m an aging (yes) prude (no), I pride myself with being edgy. Okay, perhaps “edgy” is hyperbole. But, my motto, years ago, was “I was politically incorrect when political incorrectness wasn’t cool”. Seriously. Not catchy, I know, but true.
Then why do I feel like this photo (in the latest Rolling Stones Fall TV issue) teeters more toward total inappropriate bad taste than witty satire?
Could it be because the photo depicts NOT Chris Colfer, the 20 year-old GLEE star (still underage in most states), but of Kurt Hummel – the 16 year-old High School sophomore, sitting in a gay leather bar, surrounded by muscular, hairy (and gorgeous) men, drinking a Green Apple Martini (should that be capitalized?), frightfully (anxiously?) awaiting to be gang-banged. It’s a little unsettling.
One wouldn’t be incorrect to state that it perpetuates the sickeningly mendacious negative stereotype of gay-man-as-boy-predator. With lust in their eyes – and even one grabbing his leather-clad crotch – they salaciously leer at Colfer like a group of fat ladies eying the last piece of rump roast at an all-you-can-eat buffet.
But one could also deduce that it’s a ridiculous scenario, a parody at best – I mean, in the real world, a skinny hairless fembot like Colfer’s character would probably be laughed out of such a bear bar. Bears stick to their ilk.
Depraved stereotypes or harmless satire,potato/poTAHto, it all feels disconcerting. For ME, on the other hand…
As an unabashedly proud, die hard GLEEK, the news that Ryan Murphy, creator and head honcho of GLEE, would be mounting a Broadway musical based on the show, should be a cause for jubilation. But why do I feel a wee unsettled? GLEE has saturated the Pop Culture landscape, and I’m not sure how far the balloon can stretch before the whole thing explodes (into glitter and rainbows, I’m sure).
The mega-successful tour was delightful, and made perfect sense within the GLEE zeitgeist. But it didn’t stop there.
Back in June, 20th Century Fox announced that there will be a series of GLEE books distributed by Little, Brown Books For Young Readers, the first which will act as a prequel to the series. Macy’s also announced a clothing line to debut before the start of the new school year. And, in November, Bluewater Productions is issuing a one-issue only comic FAME: THE CAST OF GLEE (the latest in a series of comic books detailing the rise of popular artists). According to its website, “The 32-page comic book one shot takes a close look at the lives of the actors and creative talent that have made the FOX Broadcasting’s series “Glee” such a runaway hit. “Glee” fans can learn about the paths that show mainstays Lea Michele, Matthew Morrison, Jane Lynch, Cory Monteith and Chris Colfer have taken on their way to fame”.
To overuse an already overused cliche, sometimes there is too much of a good thing.
GLEE itself hasn’t “jumped the shark” (I loathe that term, but it is what it is). While far from perfect (the misguided Madonna episode springs to mind), it remains an exhilarating, corny, absurd, and triumphant hour of TV, a phenomenon unlike anything on TV in years.
Another possible negative is the stunt casting. So far, the “guest stars” have infused GLEE with a natural, perfect casting. But will that stunt-casting take it from the sublime (Kristin Chenoweth, Neil Patrick Harris, Jonathan Groff – and not to mention the recently announced Carol Burnett, who’ll portray Jayne Lynche’s Sue Sylvester’s mother) to the ridiculous? While I’m quivering in expectation for the Brittany-themed episode (who doesn’t worship the magnificent Heather Morris?) I can’t pretend the same thrill for the Britney (as-in-Spears)-themed episode. Witnessing her lack of even a modicum of anything resembling acting chops in the appalling CROSSROADS in 2002 was pitiful enough, but she nearly ruined one of my favorite TV shows, HOW I MET YOUR MOTHER with her guest role a few seasons back. And, according to Ryan Murphy, she’ll be “kind of playing herself…”
While that sentence portends dismay, this pic fills me with sanguine optimism:
Brit(s) Against The Music (photo courtesy Britney Spears TwitPic)
Will it sustain its magic in the upcoming season 2? I certainly hope so. Does all of this compound a GLEE overkill? I certainly hope not. I’m one who likes to give the benefit of the doubt, and I’m awaiting with unmitigated, brazen, well, glee, for the new season to arrive. Obviously, I’m not alone in my adoration (it was recently nominated for an astounding 19 Emmy Awards).
But as a wise man (okay, Felix Unger) once waxed philosophic, and if sort of applies: Never overstay your welcome, or you’ll never be welcome to stay over. And I NEVER want the slumber party to end.
I enjoy Cee-Lo Green’s “Fuck You” much better than Lily Allen’s “Fuck You” for the aesthetic alone. Yes, I know, apples and oranges, (I LOVE Cee Lo and Lily both) – two different songs, two different genres, too different , uhhh…messages?
Cee-Lo Green is a gifted soul singer – this is indisputable to anyone whose heard him throw down his gritty Southern Fried soul, hearkening back to the greats of the 60s and 70s. So, it’s no wonder that his latest single juxtaposes that old school aesthete with, say SCHOOL HOUSE ROCK. “Fuck You” has an indelible melody and Cee Lo’s delivery is fierce, ferocious and funky. Just don’t sing along too loudly on your iPod.
I don’t mean to mock the death of a beloved, if somehow forgotten, 70s icon by my post’s title – I’m sure Yarnell would have gotten a kick out of it. As a child of said 70s, I remember comedy-mime husband/wife duo Shields & Yarnell all over the TV through the early 80s. From THE SONNY & CHER SHOW to THE MUPPET SHOW to the talk show circuit, they were a ubiquitous presence. Sadly, Lorene Yarnell passed away a week or so ago. Even as a child I never adhered to their brand of “comedy” (and to this day will never understand the appeal of the art of miming), but a little part of my childhood died too.
Here’s the NY TIMES obit:
Lorene Yarnell, who with Robert Shields formed the mime-and-dance comedy team Shields and Yarnell, a familiar presence on television in the 1970s, died on July 29 after suffering a brain aneurysm at her home in Sandefjord, Norway. She was 66.
The death was confirmed by Mr. Shields’s wife, Jennifer.
With Mr. Shields, her husband at the time, Ms. Yarnell starred in the variety show “Shields and Yarnell,” broadcast on CBS in 1977 and 1978. She had originally trained as a dancer, he as a mime; after meeting in the early 1970s, each learned the other’s art. Together they developed a style that was an amalgam of the two.
The result charmed many viewers, though not everyone. Reviewing the first episode of “Shields and Yarnell” in The Washington Post, Tom Shales wrote, “The premiere last week broke the scoop that even the Captain and Tennille can be out-cutesie-wootsie’d.”
In 1981 Mr. Shields and Ms. Yarnell starred in “Broadway Follies,” a musical revue at the Nederlander Theater in New York. The show received poor notices and closed after one performance.
Ms. Yarnell’s other credits include the robot Dot Matrix (with a voice supplied by Joan Rivers) in “Spaceballs,” Mel Brooks’s 1987 film comedy.
Ms. Yarnell was born in Inglewood, Calif., on March 21, 1944. After she married Mr. Shields in 1972 — the ceremony was performed in mime — the couple worked as street performers in San Francisco before breaking into television as a duo.
Mr. Shields and Ms. Yarnell divorced in the mid-1980s. Survivors include her fourth husband, Bjorn Jansson, and a brother, Richard, The Los Angeles Times reported.
I can’t imagine any one of his 400,000+ Twitter followers (including yours truly) not having a chuckle or two (or twenty) at his oddball stream-of-consciousness (and, natch, pompous) tweets, – which are more akin to Tracy Morgan’s 30 ROCK Tracy Jordan persona than he’d probably ever like to admit – but suppose Kanye West’s twitter posts were matched with New Yorker cartoons…
Well, that’s what the funny guys at PAUL AND STORM imagined…and executed:
Yes, it’s true: Paul created the #kanyenewyorkertweets Twitter hashtag meme. We’re seriously thinking about changing the name of our act to The Meme Brothers.
I know, ever since it ingrained itself into the pop culture consciousness over a decade ago, that it’s hip to hate James Cameron’s great epic TITANIC, despite the fact that, flaws and all, it was exhilarating – visually, natch, but via the tremendous acting as well. It’s my opinion that Kate Winslet was robbed of her first Oscar by Helen Hunt’s annoying tics in the overrated TV Movie Of The Week AS GOOD AS IT GETS. And, as Roger Ebert said, “Leonardo DiCaprio not getting nominated for TITANIC is like Clark Gable not getting nominated for GONE WITH THE WIND“. True dat, Rog.
I say, in the nicest way possible, screw you! You’re all liars. TITANICis a fantastic epic for the ages. But, I digress.
I CAN and WILL say, though the wannabe critic in me is telling me not to, that I will more than likely, indubitably HATE this. Easily. No questions asked.
Unprofessional? Sure. But only if I was paid for my analysis.
Anyone who followed my AMERICAN IDOL REPORT CARD back in season 8 knew my adoration for 3 of the Top 4 finalists (the less spoken of Danny Gokey, the better for my indigestion). I considered Kris, Adam and Allison the great triumvirate – the Power of 3.
Last year, Joe Zee from Elle Magazine sat down with the three for some conversation. An edited video was posted on Elle’s own YouTube page, but since I had access to the actual full interviews, I decided to upload them to my own YouTube page for the fans of this terrifically talented trio.
Almost a year later (these interviews were conducted in August of 2009), but as the cliche goes, better late than…oh, you know.
I saw Glenn Close as Norma Desmond in the original Broadway production of Andrew Lloyd Weber’s flawed, overtly dismal SUNSET BOULEVARD the week it opened back in November 1994, and, despite her suspicious Tony Award win, it was not a very good performance (I saw her twice in the role just to verify/refute my initial reaction). They seemed to lower the key for her limited range, rearrange the score, and, more often than not, Close seemed lost in the grand spectacle of the staging, something she wasn’t used to as a more intimate stage actress. The show was beneath her skills as an actress, too. It needs to be said that Close was only one of two actresses nominated as Best Actress in a dim year for musicals (the other being Rebecca Luker for SHOW BOAT) and Broadway overall, so her Tony wasn’t unexpected.
Cover of PATTI LuPONE: A MEMOIR
How Close garnered the role is legendary in itself…I just finished reading an advance of Patti LuPone’s autobiography, PATTI LuPONE: A MEMOIR (release date is September 14 – if you’re a theatre buff, PRE-ORDER IT! It’s craaaazy!), who reiterates the horror that was the experience of the show – especially the back-stabbing and the mendacity attributed to the producers and, especially, Webber himself. The chapters of LuPone’s book were a mesmerizing read.
Once Close left the role, in stepped Betty Buckley – and I was astonished at what she was able to do bring to it. She resurrected Norma back to life. Long a Broadway legend for her supernatural voice, Buckley’s performance was stunning, each song a show-stopper.
According to LuPone, she was treated like garbage by Weber and his evil minions – and Broadway will never know what they missed in a Patti “Norma.” There are some YouTube clips posted of her performances that give us a minute taste of what this incandescent lady might have accomplished had she been given the chance.
And here’s a mere taste of what I experienced with Buckley in the role. I’m not sure if this was from the London production, or from Broadway – I downloaded this clip from YouTube, and the poster didn’t say. The audio was low, so I encoded it at a much higher rate.
To witness Buckley on stage is to be beholden to one of the greatest forces of nature…an unparalleled gale force. From her Grizabella in CATS, to her staggering Emma in SONG & DANCE (she replaced the great Bernadette Peters), I’ve been enchanted by them all. I was there opening night for the much-maligned CARRIE too, and, while the show is legendary for all the right/wrong reasons, I’ll never forget Buckley as Margaret White. I adored her in the short-lived TRIUMPH OF LOVE in 1998, and of course in THE MYSTERY OF EDWIN DROOD a decade earlier.
Betty Buckley can easily brilliantly interpret even the most monumental banalities. Like an Andrew Lloyd Webber score.
My New Boyfriend 