Why You Should(n't) Date A Musician

I am giving up my gushing over various lead singers — Andrew McMahon, Nate Reuss, Hayley Williams, Kris Roe, and Ginger Spice — because my quest is over. Done. Finished. Forever.

My love for Damian Kulash, lead singer of OK Go, has risen like a phoenix from from the ashes.



Kulash was my first rock band crush (except for maybe JT or Lance, because yeah, kinda liked him, too). I was 15. I heard "Get Over It" on the radio and I was hooked. I saw OK Go open for the Donnas at a now non-existent venue in Des Moines. Instead of watching the drunk Donnas slur all over the microphone, my BFF Shannon and I opted to monopolize Damian's attention at the side of the stage. It was magic. We both came away with signed skin. (This was pre-digital camera era, so I can't even put up a picture of our cute, little pre-beer tummies).

I later interviewed Kulash on my 16th birthday. My hand was sweating so much that the recorder fell off the phone while my BFF Shannon tried to listen in on the convo (this was also pre-speaker phone days. Yes, I'm a dinosaur). The interview was exhilarating - it was the first "celeb" I ever chatted with. In true high school journalism form, I ran a full page (in our 8-page paper) on OK Go. No newspeg. Lots of pictures. It was glorious. No one knew who he was.

Today, five years and one Grammy-winning treadmill dance later, I chatted once more with Mr. Kulash. This time, for a story to run in The Daily Iowan in April, previewing the band's 10,000 Hours concert - so get your hours done ASAP ya'll. Everything he said was quotable. Seriously. The boy is a graduate of Brown University with a major in semiotics (yeah, I know. Look it up).

The person you love and the person who loves you are never, ever the same person. (Thanks for that uplifting life advice, Chuck Palahniuk). Read in Damian's own words why you shouldn't date him - originally published in ElleGirl. My heart is breaking.

XO
Susan

A slight retraction...

Juno didn't win best pictures so... I guess Diablo Cody's alright. At times. I guess I might want to be her someday — boring yet foundational life at the UI, revelatory job at a Village Voice publication, Oscar for best screenplay (though I'll write a movie probably titled "Not Juno," or "Anchorage," and it'll be much better). Oh, and I forgot... I'll totally be a stripper at some place that welcomes excess hair. Canada, here I come!

~Paul

LOL.

bahahaha. lolcats just kills me.
-Ann

Okay, two in a row: I (strongly dislike) "Diablo Cody"

                  "I write screenplays! Gargghhhh!"

I was about to head over to our delightful and life-altering radio program (every Friday from 5 to 6 p.m. on 89.7, KRUI — listen! please!), when I stumbled across this on imdb.com:

Cody To Wear Million Dollar Shoes to Oscars
Oscar nominee Diablo Cody will look like a million dollars when she steps out on the red carpet at the Academy Awards on Sunday - literally. The Juno writer, a former stripper, has been chosen to wear footwear designer Stuart Weitzman's million dollar shoe to the big event at the Kodak Theatre in Hollywood. The "Retro Rose" shoe features two Kwiat diamond roses, fixed to 1940s-style beige metallic T-strap high heels. More than 1,800 Kwiat diamonds weighing 100 carats were used to make the roses and 400 of them have been incorporated into the design of the shoe, which is worth over $1 million. Shoe mogul Weitzman has also created a ballerina flat with a similar diamond-like design, which Cody will change into after she walks the red carpet and kicks off her high heels. This is the first time Weitzman has created a changeover pair of shoes with a matching design element for use at the Academy Awards. He says, "I think it is great and typically Diablo that she chose to be not just glamorous but also practical in her choice of shoes for this year's Academy Awards."

Typical Diablo, eh? And while we're at it, might as well post Something Awful's pitch-perfect Juno satire: www.somethingawful.com/d/news/diablo-cody-screenplay.php (thanks blogger Anna for the heads-up). This alone makes a pretty compelling argument for why Juno should walk away with the only door prize it should — Best Original Screenplay (though the statue is rightfully Ratatouille's).

Let's pray this year doesn't bring us another Crash-style wreck. Two movies are bafflingly qualified for all the top prizes — No Country for Old Men and There Will Be Blood — so let's not prove to everyone that the Oscars are are irrelevant as the Grammy's, mmk?

~Paul

Next Nature: Like the New Coke, but scarier...

Google reader has taken over my life. Two weeks ago I was woefully unaware of what an RSS feed could do for me, and never before have I seen such internet jargon mean something so simple (Real Simple Syndication, in fact). I'd recommend you check it out for your own, potentially beautiful self — it compiles all your earmarked blogs and websites into one, simple to access log and reminds you that you have hundreds of irrelevant tidbits to consume each day. Time wasters — meet ultra-organized time destroyer.

So while stumbling across this wide web (the entrapment language is correct), I found this:

www.nextnature.net

It's a site devoted to the idea that, as they say, "Old nature, in the sense of trees, plants, animals, atoms, or climate, is getting increasingly controlled and governed by man. It has turned into a cultural category. At the same time, products of culture, which used to be in control of man, tend to outgrow us and become autonomous. Our notions of nature and culture seem to be trading places. The ‘natural powers’ shift to another field." Okay, it's a bit heady. But it's also frightening — this idea that technology and marketing has grown to such an extent that, to spin an old Oscar Wilde bit, technology doesn't just imitate life — life imitates technology. Thus this strangely plausible recreation of an organic coke bottle:



Because Coke chemicals are the antidote to Organic culture, this is weird... but goddam if someone doesn't try to market this soon. It's a new world out there, my friends, and I'm puttin' on my brave pants to try to grapple with it.

~Paul "Dystopia" Sorenson

Hayden is hot, his movies are not.

Hold on. What’s that strange, sneaking feeling coming over me? Help, help. I’m feeling underwhelmed.

Jumper could have been so cool. Based on Steven Gould’s novel of the same title, the trailers flashed intense action scenes, Hayden Christensen (my first great love) naturally radiates intensity, and the plot sounded so intriguing; especially after Samuel L. Jackson’s tag line on the previews.

“Only God should have the power to be all places at once.” Snore.

Alas, I’m left at my computer with my bootlegged edition of this “thriller” wishing I’d dozed off halfway through. At least that way I could say that the part I missed was (probably) sweet. I just sat through 90 minutes of cinema, waiting for the movie to climax and praying that there would be another almost enticing sex scene to spice things up.

Somebody draw the requisite question mark above my head. I am puzzled. Why am I feeling so let down?

Let’s run down the basics. David Rice (Christensen) has some sort of biological “defect” that allows him to teleport to any place that he’s ever seen a picture of. (“Defect”? More like gentically kick-ass.) I had just settled in from the previews when I watched our jumper Hayden eat lunch on the head of the Sphinx next to his surfboard, and then I saw him chilling on the face of Big Ben, admiring the view. I was convinced he was going to be some sort of hipster superhero.

Because he robbed a set of banks at age 15 by teleporting into their respective safes, he’s loaded, he hangs out at the Seven World Wonders, and he’s beautiful. David’s got it made.

But trouble is a-brewing in seventh heaven: idyllic lifestyle, meet conflict. Number one: David is being hunted by a tunnel-visioned, pissed-off Samuel Jackson, who wants to electrocute him. Jackson’s ornery character is topped off by the fact that he runs around yelling profound things like, “You think you can go on like this forever? Living like this with no consequences? There are always consequences!” Number two: David’s macking on Rachel Bilson, but he totally doesn’t want her to know about how awesome he is. Shame.

That’s it. Our conflicts are brought in too soon, and the plot develops, um, never. Critical points advance too fast, and it’s never clear why Jackson’s character has such a vested interest in ruining David’s life. Even the movie’s multiple action scenes can’t save the fact that it is shallow and disappointing.

And try as I might, not even Hayden’s pretty face is enough to make me like his character that much. He rarely does anything good with his special power; in fact, he robs banks, breaks into the Coliseum, teleports random strangers into the desert and threatens to drop others off the face of Mt. Everest.

It seems our hero is having problems trying to figure out how to use his peculiar gift. Ah, the classic tale of a blessing that has become a curse and a burden. Must be rough, traveling for free. Granted, I don’t have a grouchy black man and his army of trench coat-clad witch hunters trying to taser me for no reason, but David’s being downright selfish. After meeting fellow-jumper Griffin (Jamie Bell), David more or less forces Griffin to help him save his quasi-girlfriend when it is clear that they’re outnumbered.

High points involved a Mercedes SL teleporting out of a showroom and whooshing into traffic. All the stuff included in the trailer was the best that this picture had to offer, and I can only watch stunt doubles and baffling one-liners for so long.

I’m sorry I’m not sorry, but I should lower the bar for this film for anyone who thought it looked enticing. It had fleeting moments of waning potential, but I’m filing this one with the flameouts.

-Ann, who also happens to wish she was a Spice Girl

The Most Important Oscar Host...Ever

What is it about Jon Stewart that makes a girl weak in the knees? Is it his smile? His graying hair? What about those eyes? For me, the answer lies behind all of that. It's his integrity. For anyone who watches "The Daily Show," it's apparent that he takes pride in what he does, even when it isn't highbrow. Stewart holds the feet of those in power over the fire, and still manages to have fun. Whether doing an intelligent joke about funding for the Iraq War, interviewing a brilliant political mind, or playing the straight man to Stephen Colbert (or any of "The Daily Show"'s correspondents), Stewart commits.

His quick wit and biting quips are one of the reasons this nation isn't fully in the gutter. Studies have said that members of my age group (18-25) are more likely to get their news from "The Daily Show" than traditional newscasts. Well, maybe that's because we don't connect with Brian Williams, and we don't care about Katie Couric. When I watch "The Daily Show," I feel like the real questions are getting asked (even if they aren't being answered), and someone is mocking the hypocrisy of authority figures. Watching "The Daily Show" is like sitting in the cheap seats of a White House press conference, with your favorite grade-school troublemaker.

Jon Stewart may have struck comic gold as America's favorite anti-anchor, but he has had a long career before taking over for Craig Kilborn at "The Daily Show" in 1999. He hosted shows on MTV, had his own syndicated talk show, and has acted in films like Big Daddy and Playing By Heart. Why now? Why the success after years of pounding Hollywood's pavement?

The answer should shock and frighten: Because we need him. In an age where journalists are too afraid to be controversial, and most political satirists risk losing their jobs for telling the truth, (see Bill Maher and ABC's "Politically Incorrect") this country needs a television newscast who fights the power, lays it plain, and never fails to see how ridiculous our nation's government can be. America needs this from a newscast, even if it isn't real.

The whole reason I bring up Stewart's talent is because "The Daily Show" is back, after the Writers' Strike, and are having a field day with the presidential race, which is basically the most twisted horse race in recent memory. Even after a few days with writers, Stewart (who held his own without his writing team, which he leads) was back at 100% and I can already smell the stench of burning flesh in Washington.

Stewart will be on "Larry King Live" this Wednesday night (at 8 p.m.) presumably to talk about his second time hosting the Oscars (this Sunday, in case you live under a rock). Hopefully King will bring that satirical spirit out, and we'll get Jon's unfiltered views on life in 2008's America.

No one is a bigger fan than I am of UI professor Frank Durham, but if Jon ever wants to step away from the news desk, he should consider coming to Iowa City in March to moderate the rescheduled Karl Rove lecture. I imagine it would go something like this:




-Meryn, who thinks you should click on this post's title if you want to read more about her love of all things Stewart.

my love, my life, my sin, my soul

I dislike most things. I have almost no favorites. Typically, for me, books, foods, people, places, and so forth fall into categories of: things I am forced to acknowledge are good (New York City) or things that offend the soul of Art (Steven King), but ever since the summer of 2003, David Bazan (of the now late Pedro the Lion) has had my heart. I love David Bazan with an unshakeable love. Every time he writes a song about an unhappy marriage, I cross my fingers to hear that he's finally divorced (hasn't happened.) In my book of very few praises, no one writes better lyrics than David Bazan. The fact that he's a total sweetheart in concert puts the whole thing over the top. I love David Bazan FOREVER.

So, best thing to happen to me all week: 6 new songs available for download at davidbazan.com .

Best thing to happen next week? He's playing at Grinnell for FREE.

-Tara

what i really, really want...

...is to be the sixth Spice Girl (see earlier post on the amazingness of the dance to "Stop" for further proof).

Last weekend, I traveled with three other fabulous Daily Iowan editors to Chicago to witness one of the greatest moments in music today: The Spice Girls reunion tour, one of 15 concerts on their North American rendezvous.



The concert itself doesn't really need much explanation: It was exactly how one would picture it — lots of costume changes, occasional dancing, and plenty of girl power (with the male dancers crawling on leashes, no less).

What made it so great was that the sold-out show at The United Center represented everything the music industry used to be — and never will be again. Even though the concert was infused with life and passion, it also was evidence of a dying formula.
Spice Girls made it big with the manufactured radio single "Wannabe." Millions of 10-year-old girls bought the album, making the quartet a hit in both Britain and the U.S. Probably every girl there could recount when they bought Spice World (and for many, it was probably the first CD they ever bought).

Selling albums isn't enough to make money in music anymore. With the prevalence of downloading, artists must go out and tour to cultivate a fan base. That's not a bad thing; in fact, for fans, it's good. I'm happy with downloading music and then paying to see the band live, even if that means higher ticket prices (our tickets were $100, the most expensive hit $350, and tickets sold on eBay for upwards of $900). For most, however, the live scene will move to smaller venues (with more reasonable ticket prices), more intimate crowds, and bands that appeal to only a section of the population. The "popular artist," in a sense, is dead. Our generation killed it. This concert was simply the eulogy.



What artist recording today could sell-out the United Center? Kanye West is the only one coming to mind. The other acts there are either reunions or past greats that continue to tour (think Elton John or Mariah Carey). When these radio artists die out, big arena shows will fall, too.

Simply put: I don't think there will ever be another group to reach the success Spice Girls had in the late 1990s. What music will the next generation (ha.ha.get it?) love? In ten years, will the Pussycat Dolls reunion be as momentous as Spice Girls was? Maybe Miley Cyrus has a chance. Maybe. The death of the major label means the death of superstar concerts and shared experiences.

I'm not saying that's a bad thing (I certainly will cringe if "Buttons" becomes the next "Say You'll Be There"). But watching thousands of twenty-something girls decked out in glitter and pumps was bittersweet; perhaps this will be truly the last time we all come together to celebrate a defining cultural movement. Thank God for us that adolescent zeitgeist was girl power — something that continues to spark emotion even now. After all, Spice Girls have sold-out arenas to prove it.

XOXO
Susan Spice

Guitar Hero IV/Aerosmith

That's right, you've heard correctly. Guitar Hero IV will strictly be based on the life and times of of the five skinniest and oldest men in rock 'n roll (alright, Iggy, you can be counted too).



According to Keith Richards (Captain Jack Sparrow's dad for all you young 'uns), he came home and saw his kid playing guitar hero. Not only did he dig it, but he was left wondering why there wasn't any wailing guitar from his hits like Sweet Emotion and Janie's Got a Gun.

Instead of getting mad or even, Richards did what any all-time classic rocker would do: strike up a deal. In the interest of their new album and overall record sales, Jagger and the crew will hit Wii, PS 2 & 3, and Xbox in a bold attempt to transcend mediums. Playing as Richards at their first concert all the way up until his 2001 Superbowl performance, gamers will play songs that range from the 70's up until today.