These days it isn't often you get but so excited about anything music related, unless you're lucky enough to have an extensive vinyl collection at your disposal. (Yes records rule!) Never mind, most videos plain ol suck. In the occasion that there is something worthy of your attention it ought to be noted, celebrated even. Who would have known the perfect role for lmnop movie actor/director Mario Van Peebles, would be that of a not so baaaad ass Blacula. ‘Who Cares’ out shines the ‘Crazy, Smiley Faces and Gone Daddy Gone’ set of Gnarls Barkley videos because it doesn’t take the easy route, it moves beyond obvious. Hands were definitely soiled. Blood Red Nights (the title of this short film/music video) is a three minute and thirty eight second masterwork that you will appreciate more and more every time you watch it.
M.I.A. has been, since her debut, worshipped by the hipsters and adored by a large segment of the music press. KALA should put an end to most of that. While her first album, Arular, managed to merge her average singing with her average rapping with interesting production well enough to create some catchy songs, on KALA it all goes wrong. Sonically it’s simply a mess. Rather than being interesting the beats end up feeling noisy. Lyrically it’s just as ridiculous as her previous effort, but without any of the charm. While I was listening to KALA I openly wondered what made me like M.I.A. in the first place.
Bekay is one of those artists whose buzz has been nice for a few years now but we’ve yet to really see him break out of the “buzz” zone and into the “star” zone. On The Horror Flick LP he shows signs that he’s ready to make that leap. The album starts out with a number of braggadocios tracks, a few too many if you ask me. It’s obvious Bekay is a heck of a lyricist, but at times I wondered if this was going to turn out to be a case of Canibus Syndrome – all battle rhymes, no hook writing ability. The last two songs on the album, however, “Don’t Feel Good” and “Dead End,” prove that Bekay is not only capable of writing complete songs, but he is capable of crafting interesting ideas and making them work over a three to four minute format. If given the right opportunity Bekay could be a star. The Horror Flick LP starts to scratch the surface of this talented individual, making it worthy of your listening time.
Adbrite.com over the years has become a viable source of income generation for many website owners and blogs alike with their textual ads and interstitials. Not long ago did they also delve into the realm of video, attempting to tap the flourishing viral market by allowing users to tag clips with their personal logos while simultaneously making it possible for ads to be displayed along with their content in video flash players. Now, Adbrite has taken it up yet another notch in a quest to corner every possible avenue for advertising online. Simply, they suggest that you replace that universal (img) tag we all know in HTML, (used to display images), with their code that actually turns your visuals into ads. The new service is called Britepic. The idea is that since images still are one of the most highly sought after items online, why not embed ads into your images to earn money. How successful this new implementation will be only time will tell. We’ll just need to give it a test run for ourselves.
Labels: Incoming Revenue
A conglomerate of stars young, old, and in between lend their voices to the soundtrack: Hairspray. Danceable, kid-friendly tunes soulfully sung by Zac Efron and Elijah Kelley are juxtaposed against bold, sultry ballads: Queen Latifah makes the world believe “Black is Beautiful;” love is in the air during the John Travolta-Christopher Walken duet “(You’re) Timeless to Me” (implausible, I know, but true). The supporting cast delivers solid vocals throughout. Producer Marc Shaiman expertly curbed potential show stoppers (Amanda Bynes) and show killers alike (sorry Brittany). Nikki Blonsky was born to play Tracy Turnblad; in every word she sings you feel her gleaming smile and energy. With Hairspray, the songs are the story. Aided only by the cd cover picturing the actors in costume and, of course, the melodies, I created my own 1962 Baltimore: the hair, the high school, the black and white television set with the black and white teens on their designated sides, and the dances appeared before me as the drama unfolded in song.