- Nicki Minaj - Pink Friday. Yes, it’s disappointing that she did not, in fact, make a rap album, but sometimes I enjoy the failures on their merits too. I certainly feel like I know her better now, on a lot of levels, and I appreciate that. Plus, hey, there are in fact some kind of awesome songs on this, like “Did It On ‘Em” and “Blazin.” Kanye’s verse on that song cracks my shit right up.
- My Chemical Romance - Danger Days: The True Lives Of The Fabulous Killjoys. I listened to this album exactly the way I was supposed to: while driving my parents’ car around my hometown. I will not apologize for liking this band. I will never apologize for anything that gives me this much of a sugar rush. Maybe that makes me a bad person, who knows. There is a reasonable chance I will write about this in more detail in the near future.
- Ne-Yo - Libra Scale. I just like it, I don’t love it. Some of the songs will grow on me. Some of them won’t. But then, the last Ne-Yo album snuck up on me over time. (But then, the last Ne-Yo album had “Part Of The List” and “Single” and “So You Can Cry” on it.)
- Robyn - Body Talk. I don’t honestly understand the sequencing of this album, since three of my favorite songs got left behind, but that’s irrelevant: Robyn dominated this year, and she can take a victory lap if she wants to. Plus, it’s probably more fun for us to make our own albums on iTunes anyway, and she totally knows it.
- Kanye West - My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy. I will not review the reviews here, because I don’t care. I just really like this album a lot. I even bought the deluxe one with the hilariously indulgent movie, because hey, why not indulge? I mean, in general. Why not indulge? What’s the counterargument against indulging, in the case of Kanye and/or his audience?
- Possibly even more exciting than buying these albums was ripping my mom’s remaster of Carole King’s Tapestry. Mom music! It’s the best music!
Also, as a postscript: it is fucking awesome that artists like the five named above exist, and that I could get all their albums on the same day. That is a crazy lineup of folks up there, with two (two!) superhero concept albums and a bunch of really fucking crazy outfits and accompanying art films and all kinds of crying on the dancefloor and these are the kinds of things I come to pop music for. Take a bow, Black/Pink Friday and pop in 2010 in general.
Isn’t it super-great when your parents press you to dwell on the problems in your life? Doesn’t it make you feel SUPER-AWESOME to talk about how unhappy you are with them? Isn’t that just YOUR FAVORITE THING?
(I watched Oprah’s Favorite Things episode with my mom today so maybe that phrase is on my brain)
In case their sheer awesomeness wasn’t incentive enough to buy…
Just a heads up.
Not afraid to be service-y, in the words of Maura. I will be buying both of these as physical pieces of plastic tomorrow, while down here on vacation in Florida. I will be patronizing our beloved local independent record store, “Best Buy.”
Two years ago I had something which I’ve started to hesitantly think might have been a breakdown. It was as rough a spell as I’ve ever been through, whatever the technical term for it. 808s and Heartbreak came out a few weeks after the worst of it and the album’s long stretches of musical tundra - flat synths, hollowed-out metal tones - were exactly what I needed. Very little on this record resonates with me like that did - oddly enough probably only “Runaway”, because it captures the I’m an asshole, I’m a failure, pity party feeling very well, and it’s got a great hook somewhere in there.
…I dunno if capturing that feeling is a good thing though? It’s the kind of feeling which tends to insidiously legitimise itself once you start expressing it - like the virtue of self-knowledge balances out the sin of assholism, which it really doesn’t.” —
Man oh man, so on point to my life right now, man oh man oh man.
This piece is essential reading, by the way. I had a capital-E Experience with the Runaway film on Saturday, which I maybe wasn’t expecting. And I haven’t even listened to the whole album all the way through yet.
I have to assume you know this already, but Robyn’s playing Radio City Music Hall in February, and tickets are on sale now. I might be sitting this show out, but I also might be going, it’s all very fuzzy. But if you haven’t seen her live yet this year, you are required to go. No excuses.
D’oh, I didn’t even know there was such a thing as the “Messages” inbox until just now. OK, here we go:
(1) Morgan from Top Chef: Just Desserts. Wow, that guy really dislikes women and gay people! Kind of a lot! There’s an unmarked grave out there somewhere containing either a prostitute, or a boy who had a crush on him in high school. I’m not saying it was MURDER-murder. Probably more like manslaughter. But.
(2) Christopher Meloni. Love him! But I’m thinking he probably shook a one-scene extra too hard on the interrogation room set. Maybe more than once.
(3) Lady Gaga. Because, come on, look at the videos, HOW GREAT WOULD THAT BE. I eagerly look forward to joining her death cult, which she will run from prison through VYou.
(4) Dick Cheney. This one’s a gimme and I’m a little ashamed to even waste the keystrokes on it. I assume the weapon in question was his own bare hands, unless it happened recently, in which case the weapon was some kind of laser gun. You know he has a laser gun. You know he had them build him one special, like three days after taking office.
(5) Beyoncé. Love her even more than Meloni, but it’s a vicious struggle to get to the top. You can’t make an omelette without breaking a few necks between your thighs. Wait, you can? How do you make an omelette again?
After a few listens I am convinced (a) that “Call Your Girlfriend” is just a sixpack and a shove away from being a coming-out anthem on the scale of “Take Your Mama” and (b) it is a totally, totally amazing song. YMMV.