Another day, another “real” artist bites the dust. I loved Santigold’s first album. I stood by her while the rest of the music industry collectively wrote her off as a bootleg version of M.I.A. But, in the almost four years that she went without releasing new material, I forgot why I fell in love with her music. So, it pains me to write that Santigold, again playing second fiddle to M.I.A., has become the Jesus Christ of Indie music, bearing the cross of obscurity, smug “authenticity” and a seriously warped view of popular music that can only be compared to “rockstar envy.”
I don’t like Football. I, like the other 3 million extra people tuned into to the Super Bowl just for the halftime show. And to see Madonna. On the eve of her 12th album, if you study numerology you’d understand that significance, and her re-entry into American Pop Culture, this was her magnum opus on stilettos and gold. But the response was anything but celebratory.
Oh that Madge… I can’t help it, I’ve got the biggest Cheshire grin plasted above my chin right now…
“Nothing of me is original. I am the combined effort of everybody I’ve ever known.”
– Chuck Palahniuk from “Invisible Monsters”
The Haus sans Dada, sans Laurieann, Heavy on the Nicola… #ohnico Ian, Michael, Asiel #werethedancers
The Haus: From Government Hookers not giving a Sheibe and Paris runways getting werqed twice, from Judas and Jo Calderone to Laurie Ann overthrown, please believe we always left a key under the welcome mat for Hauskeeping to keep a humble home – if not beasted and broken in the best way known
Seventeen of 2012′s Highly Anticipated Albums to look forward to.
As much the Four Evangelists as they are the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse, Britney, Jay-Z, Kanye, and GaGa – our proud and prestigious pillars of Pop – stood tall and held rapturous court this year as the cause and cure for our ailing culture…
I’m sitting here about to get my next tattoo at a popular tattoo shop in downtown Atlanta. This next tattoo is the one with the most meaning. It’s maktub. Maktub is Arabic for ‘it was written’. A strong, spiritual sentiment that eludes many to think of faith and destiny, all heavy religious concepts automatically once the denotation is learned. I picked up the phrase from one of my favorite books, The Alchemist. But I’m getting it tattooed on me. So, a religious thought is becoming a fashionable trivial decoration on my body. This trend is not rare in our society. I’m participating in seemingly the bastardization of a sacred world. Making things that are of God be also in vogue, no matter what the eventual results may be. Even when those results are most commonly breaking the sacred and holy.
You can reproduce your past, you can rewrite your present, you can dictate your future… beneath the metronomic hum of the running film reel GaGa brings the moster from the hub of the city to the heart and soul of her own fatally fame-laden tale…
FAMEKILL$, a conceptual mixtape presented by GREATeclectic & Swiper Bootz which, intertwines the music of Kanye West & Lady GaGa is finally available for free download now.
The Carrie Bradshaw Syndrome: Is Narcissism Directly Connected to Quality of Art?
I love “Sex and the City.” I’m just going to throw that out there right now, because it is true and there is no point in denying it, especially within the context of this article. I am a gay man so it may not come as a huge surprise to many, though there are many gay critics of the show, especially of the Brooklyn hipster persuasion (don’t be offended, you know it’s true). Though I enjoy the show’s many episodes and movies (the second one not so much), there are certain aspects of the show that I find irritating, based mostly on the fact that they exaggerate aspects of New York City life dramatically. Being a former New Yorker, I can safely say that my days and weeks were not filled with gallery openings and fabulous dinners at chic new restaurants. Life in New York was hard, albeit fabulous, despite my limited means.
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