Thursday, April 1st, 2010
Monday, March 15th, 2010
Since Lady Gaga took about three years to release her latest music video/feature length film for ‘Telephone’, I felt it was only fair that I watch it and give it a full Bangs-style critique. We can only hope that Gaga takes it on board.
0.27 – Tyrese Gibson? Tyrese Gibson is in this video? I have more questions than answers as to why this would happen.
1.10 – Snatch on display to prove she doesn’t have a penis? However, they’ve blurred it out so we’ll never really know.
1.57 – Way to break the stereotype that female prisons are full of a bunch of raging butch lesbians. Good job.
2.25 – Girl fight! They really wanted to make sure they didn’t shy away from stereotypes, huh?
2.47 – ‘Beyonce on the line for Gaga’. Proof that even a prison stay won’t get you any kind of distance from Beyonce.
3.00 – I don’t know about you, but on the rare occasions when I answer my phone, I sing my conversations.
3.42 – Wow, Gaga really can’t dance. At. All.
4.16 – This is just a stab in the dark, but I’m guessing someone might be getting a little sponsorship money from Virgin Mobile….
4.28 – ….annnnnnddddd Plenty of Fish.
4.51 – Mother of Jesus! Please don’t tell me Beyonce’s gonna act! Nooooo! Make it stop! My eyes! My eyes!
4.55 – I take offence to everything Beyonce is trying to do with her bangs.
5.17 – This is the worst thing I’ve ever seen. This whole banter. I feel sick.
5.45 – The way Beyonce’s molesting that steering wheel, surely that car would be in a ditch by now.
5.54 – Oooh, Tyrese better savour this moment. He ain’t getting any more work for a while.
6.20 – For Christ’s sake! With this stupid telephone on her head. We frikkin’ get it! The song’s called ‘Telephone’! Jesus, no need to hammer the point home.
6.40 – When is this gonna end?
6.54 – Whoever did this choreography has a lot to answer for. And are those guys using baguettes as phones? They know no one’s gonna answer, right?
7.07 – Why is this chick always killing someone in her videos. I would never eat with her in real life – who knows what the hell she’s slipping in your food.
7.11 – Hello Gaga? Yeah, we didn’t get the point about your song being called ‘Telephone’. It’s not literal enough. Can you shove a phone on your face to make sure we fully grasp it? Thanks.
7.31 – So Gaga dropped the F bomb earlier, but it gets bleeped when Beyonce says it? Or is it Sacha Fierce talking? Either way, she’s just a good, Christian girl from the south y’all. Bey never swears. *eye roll*
7.54 – Seriously, sack the choreographer.
8.29 – I always thought Beyonce was a robot. This right here is the proof.
8.35 – Mayday! Mayday! Can we get a stylist on the set please?!
9.17 – Dear baby Jesus, please let these two individuals drive off a cliff for real.
9.32 – The End. Can I get that 9 minutes and 32 seconds of my life back?
All in all, David Lachapelle should get on the phone and chew out the director of this video for completely jacking his style. Now yes, clearly I’m neither Lady Gaga’s or Beyonce’s biggest fan, but I can appreciate Gaga has a reasonable level of talent and a certain amount of artistic vision (even if it does bring with it an unprecedented level of douchiness), but 10 minute long videos? Honey, you ain’t Michael Jackson. Get a grip.
Wednesday, November 18th, 2009
Beyonce and Lady Gaga have a new music video out and well, I’m tired. Beyonce just wears me out. It would be nice to think she’s tired of herself at this point, but alas, I don’t think we’ll see that moment for quite some time.
My immediate reaction after watching this video was, can I get that five minutes of my life back? Is it just me or has Beyonce made a variation of the same video for her last five or six singles? I can barely tell the difference anymore. And I don’t care to. I’m tired of it all. Skimpy outfit, roll hips, red lipstick, change weave once every six seconds – ENOUGH! It is clear that she has reached her creative peak and needs to take a break, have a lie down, go on vacation somewhere far, far away. She’s married to Jay-Z/Jiggaman/Hova/Hovi Baby/It’s the Roc – shouldn’t she be off having babies anyway? I mean, I fully understand not rushing to see what the offspring of Jay-Z will look like (I love me some Hov, but let’s face it, nature was not kind to his mug), but you’ve gotta do it sometime Beyonce and now’s as good a time as any (before you make another one of these Godforsaken videos).
But just when you’re yawning at Beyonce’s tired, phone-it-in performance, up pops Lady Gaga out of nowhere. And all you can think is ‘what the hell happened to her face?’ It’s not fair to put any other female in the same room as Beyonce really, nevermind actually committing that to film. If I were a female singer, I would have it written in my contract somewhere that I would never do a video with Beyonce. What’s the point? You’re just going to look like a steaming pile of shite next to that vision of fake-haired lovliness.
I get the distinct impression they told Gaga to dial down the crazy for this video. There are no crazy props or outfits like we’re used to seeing with her and that’s probably what makes her face so shocking. I mean, hey, she’s pretty, but her face just looks better with sunglasses on it, or a giant piece of lace covering it.
Then Beyonce and Gaga do a highly embarrassing chair dance routine that just screams high school talent show. If you’re not hiding under your desk at this point, praying for this thing to stop, there’s something genetically wrong with you.
In short, Gaga needs to bring back the crazy & Beyonce needs to take a breather, then maybe all will be right with the world once again. Until then, I’ll just feel perturbed, horrified, mystified, confused, overwhelmed, depressed and angry.
Monday, February 23rd, 2009
Here are a few scattered thoughts after watching the Oscar red carpet (which is obviously, the only bit I care about).
The dress was clearly a miss, but in possibly one of the most hilarious red carpet moments ever, Miley hinted, while being interviewed, at her hopes of receiving an Oscar next year. Dream on bitch. Hannah Montana ain’t that serious.
Sarah Jessica Parker
The dress impeccable. The boobs – amazing. The boobs..er, sorry, I couldn’t look away for a second there. The centre parting – can exit stage right.
Mickey, on what is probably the biggest night of his career, shows up looking like he just had a hard night in Vegas. Then he wouldn’t shut up about his damn recently deceased dog. Crazy bastard. I hate to seem like an insensitive biznatch (well, I don’t mind it at all actually), but seriously, your comeback will be well and truly complete when you stop giving your dogs shout outs in every speech/interview.
Taraji P Henson
Throw a veil on her and she looks like she’s about to get married on a beach in Jamaica. And you know how I feel about destination weddings. Do not get me started.
Oh Beyonce. You are the gift that keeps on giving. You never fail to show up to an awards ceremony looking completely shiteous. Job well done. I don’t know what that fella’s doing there, but no amount of faffing can save that dress. I think you may actually have outdone yourself on this one Ms Knowles. It is comically bad. Thank you.
Honorable mention – Tim Gunn
Tim was doing red carpet commentary and frankly, if he wasn’t the founding father of gay, he’d be my husband. I love me some Tim Gunn. Seeing him interview Valentino (however shortly) was a little slice of fashion heaven.
And the award for Why Were They There goes to…
Miley Cyrus – her complete oversaturation of every market possible is now fully complete.
Mario Lopez – was he up for an award for his outstanding work on ‘America’s Best Dance Crew’?
Beyonce – Try as you might honey, you’ll never get an Oscar, but it’s highly amusing watching you try.
Hugh Jackman – He’s Australian. Exposure to that accent should be limited to an absolute minimum at all times.
Monday, October 27th, 2008
A couple of weekends ago, after a couple of days of team building exercises with my work folk, I was stuck on a bus back to Toronto with about 50 other employees. Worn out from the various baffoonery we were forced to engage in, I was looking forward to getting some shut eye.
I reclined my seat (the two inches it would recline), took a deep breath and closed my eyes. As I was drifting off into a gentle snooze, the girl sitting across the isle from me fired up her iPod. Ugh. Beyonce. That god damned ‘If I were a boy’ song. The first few bars of this song are enough to send me into a flying rage, but I tried to block it out, focus on counting sheep or something.
And I really did try. But then that bitch put it on repeat. By the fourth time hearing it, I was ready to get off the bus and throw myself under it.
I don’t care how much of an asshole your boyfriend has been to you, Beyonce is never the answer. Does listening to the lyrics of this song help you come up with great ways to treat him as badly as he does you? That’s one hell of a master plan you’ve got there, skipper. I’m not really one for hypotheticals anyway, so the whole concept of the song is lost on me. All this ‘if I were a boy, I’d do this, that and the other’ nonsense, is for the birds. Don’t talk about it, be about it. Go get the sex change and start raining down the karma.
Or you could just not be with a guy who’s an asshole in the first place. But then you’ve have nothing to talk about with your girlfriends, or be able to annoy strangers on three hour bus rides by playing irritating Beyonce diddies on repeat.
But, if the best way to get through to these poor relationship-having, Beyonce-listening fools is to use hypotheticals, I have a few of my own:
If I were a black belt in karate,
I would drop kick you in the face,
Stomp on your headphones,
And pray you find some taste.
But I’m a lover, not a fighter, so here’s hoping you make it through that rough patch with your boyfriend, so I won’t have to take it there. And just so you know, one of those team building exercises we had to do was archery and I was pretty shit hot – don’t make me go back there and get the bow and arrow.
Monday, February 18th, 2008
Can you please just go and have some Jay-Z babies already? We all get it – you’ve impressed it upon us for the past ten years; you have a weave, you have an ass, you have a voice (in that order). We get it. You have made your point. Ten-Four. Roger that. Over-and-Out. Seriously, get OVER yourself and get OUT. Thank you and goodnight.
Listen Justin, you either need to stop or kick it into overdrive. These intensely long gaps you leave between albums is burning my brain. You did it with the first one. After damn near two years of that being on rotation, I had zero desire to Let You Love Me or to Rock My Body. I got tired of Rockin’ My Body after a couple of months. It’s a lot of work. And you’ve done it again with this album. What Goes Around has been going around and around and around. Then you’re telling me it Comes Around? Can I get an ETA on when this will end?
Also, you’re not the savior of music my dear. The first album, you had Pharell, the second one, you had Timbaland. Shit, I could make a hit record with that team behind me. You are merely a puppet. Anything you’ve done has been done a million times already; you are just the white version. Get over yourself.
How you weren’t banished to the depths of hell after releasing ‘I’m So Lonley’ really boggles the mind. Then you had that whole crazy-dry-humping-of-a-teenager thing and Lord only knows how, but you prevailed during that controversy too. Not content with making our ears bleed with your own ‘music’, you insist on jumping all over everyone else’s tracks. Even people one assumes would have better taste, like Gwen Stefani, for example.
How do you do it Akon? What’s your secret? Your voice has a Chipmunk-esque quality to it. You should have been a one hit wonder. Could it be your looks? No, you’re painfully unattractive. Is it your deep and meaningful songs? Well, it’s unlikely ‘I Wanna F**k You’ will go down as a classic in music history (though you did really drive that point home while dry humping that teenager).
Oh, I know I’m gonna catch hell from the gays on this one, but Madonna, you’ve got to stop.
Sure, I was down with you during the ‘Holiday’ and ‘Papa Don’t Preach’ era, but you kinda lost be when you started shagging everything with a pulse. Since then, I’ve found each of your yearly, attempted reinventions equally yawn-inducing.
I think you’d be the first to admit, you’re not that great a singer and you dance like a drunken aunt at a wedding. In interviews, you come across as a completely stone cold and vapid bitch. So, what exactly is your appeal?
I can’t even watch your interviews anymore because of your fake, forced British accent. Just ‘cause you married a Brit and live in the UK doesn’t mean you have to adopt our accent. Stop embarrassing yourself.
Just out of interest, are you just injecting botox or have you switched to straight up formaldehyde? You look eerily unnatural and are starting to scare me.
So, chop chop! Retirement beckons – oh and please take those Godforsaken leotards with you on the way out.