In the week Will Oldham said getting cum out of a 13-year-old boy was “easy as hell,” we watched Michael Steele throw the final bon mot into the bonfire of his own political career. Revlon somehow had the nerve to ask if Rihanna was an “appropriate spokesperson” for Covergirl, which, congratulations–I’m not sure you could’ve figured out a more fucked up form of market research.
Busta Rhymes showed up at B.B. King’s wearing a Louis Vuitton suitcase with armholes cut into it, Kanye laid waste to American Idol (unrelated: Vibe was right totally right about the grey beard), and then Ryan Seacrest lied about Ye’s sales figures. Plus: that rule change is total trumped up industry insanity.
Joseph O’Neill should probably give Infinite Jest its cover back. And U2 might want to think hard before pushing that “best since Achtung Baby” schtick any further. Bun B is like a wise, caring uncle, and Diplo is a peaceful man indeed. Young Dro is clean with it, but not Electrik Red: they fuck you. Cam’ron, meanwhile, is merely everywhere, all the time.
J. Holiday performed at a J&R, Alan Braxe performed at truly absurd hour in the morning, and the Handsome Furs got physical at Mercury Lounge. Plus: No one resists psychologizing more than Miranda July at the Rubin Museum.
Biggie’s death was 12 years ago this week. John Leonard, who died last year, was memorialized, and Lux Interior’s funeral proved a long beloved Cramps legend true. More grief: Code of Honor’s Johnithin Christ: 1958-2009.
Kent Jones left the Film Society of Lincoln Center, Katelynn cage danced on the Real World, The City continued, Bones pissed in the wide river of the Armory Show, the Yeah Yeah Yeahs did a video for “Zero,” and for the record, M.I.A.’s baby is not named Ickitt. Although we stand by our jokes, just the same. See you Monday.