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Country Sad Ballad Man: Dispatch from
the front, five years after Michael Ross, 02/25/05 |
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So the mid-90s finally ended, nearly a decade
too late. Do we care? Should we care? The first time I can recall really registering Blink-182 was probably on a choir trip where one of the underclassmen bought Dude Ranch. There were five of them, cocksure little kids with dog-chain wristbands and Fantastic Sam's haircuts, huddled around a discman playing "Dammit" repeatedly. You'd think it was the Rosetta Stone or something- five Oklahoma jackoffs listening to three California jackoffs singing about, well, jacking off. It was probably meant to be. Me? I was far more interested in the Talking Heads album I was listening to at the time. They popped up again, not too long after the first time. The night of my high school graduation I found myself at a house party in the middle of nowhere populated by the Choctaw High Brain Trust. The entire populace of the party- excepting Erica, who elected to enroll in circus school and could twist her body into positions a girl of her build had no right to- were college bound and, essentially, no trouble at all to their parents, myself included. Enema of the State had been released just prior, with its single "What's My Age Again" just beginning to lodge itself into permanent rotation in hell. The video, long before it became ingratiating, was just beginning to appear on MTV, which is what we had on in the other room while we sat around not drinking, not smoking, and certainly not having sex- although higher education, marriage, and, err, circus school would change that soon enough. I happened to catch the clip while on a run for pretzels. What can I say? Nudity equals funny. That's something I'll have to remember after my wedding. Korn is, of course, another story. While I salute anyone who leaves their previous life completely behind to pursue their relationship with a higher power... well, God, duh; although Rick James did proclaim cocaine to be a helluva drug... this story makes me laugh. I just finished watching the South Park episode that featured Fieldy as the equivalent of Velma. Lindsay asked if he was the one who found religion and I laughed. Fieldy's acceptance into heaven would, after all, be a tremendous manifestation of The Almighty's unending grace- I mean, did you hear any of his solo record? "This is my freak on a leash, with whom I am well pleased," indeed. Theirs is a sound that I haven't missed for some time on my radio scans, and I'm hoping that this will continue the trend. So God can pull members away from Korn, but apparently it takes an enormous, drunken Dane to dissever a mightier band than they; did you see Strange Love this week? Listen, Flav, maybe you should consider sending Ms. Nielsen in the direction of, say, Maroon 5. No, they aren't cold lampin', but don't you think they deserve it more? I've got Adam Levine's phone number if you want it. Just let me know. I've also got every other phone number from Ms. Hilton's book, as does half of the free world. I think this may be an extra credit assignment in my first period next week: Call a B-list celeb of Mr. Ross's choosing and carry on a dialog about globalization/nanotechnology/Simon Pegg. Write an essay about it. Try not to pick up a social disease. "When the going gets weird, the weird turn pro." That's right, Doc. Something tells me you checked out right before I picked up the check, though. END TRANSMISSION. |
| Previous editions of Country Sad Ballad Man: |
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Karl Hass -
February 8, 2005 They Don't Love You Like I Love You - October 5, 2004 CSBM Returns - September 14, 2004 Sometimes Hipness Is What It Ain't - July 21, 2004 Reflecting Off Of Your CD - May 20, 2004 Oh Well, Nevermind - April 26, 2004 Fixing the Leak - April 6, 2004 End of First Quarter Report - March 10, 2004 Super Bowl Analysis - February 3, 2004 Liz, it used to mean something when you said "f*ck." - January 7, 2004 The Original - December 17, 2003 |
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