Feelin' Fed

Haters!

Say what you want, but I'm putting my credibility on this one statement:

Kevin's "Playing with Fire" does have some problems. But, those problems are minor and could be avoided with the right producer. The kid has possibility. He needs to take this divorce and start a new record now. I should produce it.

I'm down with this record. Dumb moments, weak moments and all. I'm all good.

Haters need to step and get them some quality headphones + shit.

Theories

Tres

Make Way for Chester

I'm actually impressed with the giant nuts of the republicans in the senate. I am even more impressed, however, with one Chester "Trent" Lott. Given up for politically dead, he picks his moment and rises - if not from said dead - to the MF-in' occasion!

Everybody. Everyone. Everywhere. Give it up for Chester!

Here's what I admire: Chester could've simply rode it out. He's been in the Senate since forever (well, since 1973); house for a generation, senate for a generation. He was head dogg in the senate until that, uh, thing, er, about Jesse (not Jackson, yo). But, he could have rode the pine into eternity. But, he didn't and I have to love him to death about that.

After winning his seat with 64% of the Mississippi vote, Trent felt golden, I suppose. So he let 'em know that he intended to be the big man again (this time Minority Whip).

This development may not be something you liberals "like." But it's something you just gotta "love." Love it! Dammit, love it! Balls of insanity. Ramp the insanity!

In a Storm

Flight School

Playing with Mopes

OK, I just put the headphones on. Yes, my Kevin Federline record arrived over the weekend and I’m just getting around to listening to it. K-Fed ain’t in no hurry. I am one of the 6,500 humans that bought this record.

Yikes, the reviews are awful. On Metacritic.com, the record only gets a total score of 15. That’s pretty low all right. It’s called “Playing With Fire.” Haters just can’t play with Kevin’s fire.

Alls I have to ask is, why all the haters? This album is pure genius. Pure genius, in fact, has been Federline’s life, lifestyle, and M.O. He is a top-tier conceptual artist. And amen for him. Who else could do this? This record (and subsequent divorce) is testament to his art. It’s his defining moment.

Seriously, growing up on the streets of Fresno, you have to aspire to something, right? You could aspire to be a policeman, an astronaut, the president, a rock and roll star, [hold on, I’m laughing aloud here because this record is pretty fucking bad – oh shit!] a baller, etc. You live so you aspire. I wanted to be a symphonic percussionist or a psychologist. But, I didn’t have the skills of K-Fed. Think about that for a minute.

Mr. Federline’s skills are incredible. It appears he can do whatever he wants: marry and force America’s sweetheart to have two of his children (to add to his collection of seed-spread). Sure he fancies himself a rapper. Don’t we all really? But, he did what any wannabe, suburban, rhyme happy white boy does: he made a CD. But, instead of using Garage Band, he had fantasy camp at a real studio with real engineers and producers. Good for him. Does he owe anyone any advance money? Nope. Brittney paid for it all.

Am I the only person to see this “lifestyle art” for what it is?

So bad that it’s incredible. Reminds me a bit of Dread Zeppelin or when Anthrax rapped with Public Enemy (or when Aerosmith rapped with Run-D.M.C.). Sure, it’s off. Sure, it’s quite bad. But, fuck ain’t it dripping with chocolate, Maraschino cherries, and syphilis.

Federline is the epitome of the American dream. Rags to riches. The “you can do it” spirit. Fame is fleeting. Fame is splendid. Fame carries with it a huge responsibility. The best thing he can do with this responsibility is to ignore it, squander it, and spit all over it. I mean, look at Axl Rose. Look at D’Angelo. Look at Easy E. Okay, sure they have all produced and sold incredible records. But, why work hard when you don’t have to? He didn’t land on a pile of cash. A pile of cash landed on him.

Genius. Terrible album. But, genius.

"I Don't Believe in Peter Pan...

...Frankenstein or Super Man..."

So the B’s latest musical fascination is Queen’s “Bicycle Race” from the 1978 album “Jazz.”

You know, Queen. Yes, that Queen of “We Will Rock You” fame. You know, Jazz, the album with the naked female bicycle race (god, do I remember it!). But, there was some excellent music too.

Few bands embodied the pure excess of the '70s like Queen. Embracing the exaggerated pomp of prog rock and heavy metal, as well as vaudevillian music hall, the British quartet delved deeply into camp and bombast, creating a huge, mock-operatic sound with layered guitars and overdubbed vocals. Queen's music was a bizarre yet highly accessible fusion of the macho and the fey. - All Music Guide

"Macho and the fey" is absolutely perfect. Fey! Exactly.

And, sure, now that I think of it, “Bicycle Race” is the perfect device for introduction to prog rock, math rock and metal for a four-year-old child. It’s silly on the surface (like me). Filled with a bunch of then-current pop references and an advertisement for a bicycle race. But, you know what? It smokes. The guitar sounds are huge, the time shifts from 4/4 to 6/8 to 4/4, competing duple and triple meters, dueling guitars, perfect execution, and tasty bass (John Deacon, right?) make Bicycle fun and challenging if you get into it (over and over like I’m hearing it lately). And, of note, the drumming is first rate. Seriously. Sure Freddy Mercury is the front man for this iconic quartet, but you cannot say that Brian May and Roger Taylor are not bad ass performers. Yeah, Queen rocks. Good for the B. Good for me!

“Bicycle Race” catches Queen at the very top of their trip. They are playing clean and hard, they are jamming about nonsense, insider goofs. They are in the zone and ahead of the beat. They are perfect.

"I don't want to be a candidate for Viet Nam or Watergate."

Machines

West & East