ABDC = America's Best Dance Show

1. Dancing is fucking awesome, there's no debate. Especially when a bunch of super funky young people form dance crews.

2. There are a lot of terrible reality shows on TV. Even a lot of bad dancing contest shows (Dancing With The Stars?)

3. America's Best Dance Crew, despite the stupid name, is not a stupid show. It's a very, very fucking good show. And it's on MTV! You must think I'm crazy. I'm not! Let me explain:

ABDC, as it's called, is a genius concept that works perfectly on TV. Why? Well first, unlike some other reality shows, the contest is based on actual talent. Much like my other favorite reality TV shows, like Project Runway or games shows like Jeopardy, the competitors need to posses true talent, ability and creativity, or else they will fail. Flashy gimmicks are sometimes present in this series, but they cannot carry a team to win.

So. Dance crews. Real kids who like to throw down, battle and boogie, and they're damn good at it. This show features a lot of B-Boys and breakers, which is just so cool and always entertaining. However, they feature some unique acts too, like a group that dances on roller skates, a group that combines dancing with jump-roping, a voguing crew, a latin dance crew, among many others.

So we got the dope crews. Next, we give them insane challenges, in which they have to incorporate specific styles, themes or moves into their routines while still representing their unique style, while also increasing the difficulty of their routines each week. Some past challenges have been a dance tribute to Michael Jackson, incorporating magical illusions, using trampolines, using moves from Bollywood dance styles and styles from the disco era, as well as my favorite, the "Whack Track Challenge" in which each crew was assigned to dance to some of the worst songs in pop music history and make it rock.

Then, oh my god, then we have the host and judges. MTV could not have picked a more absurd group of people to anchor this show. It's awesome and bad at the same time.

First, we got Randy Jackson, who produces this show. He only appears in the very beginning and at the very end of the season. He is so awkward and tries so hard to talk hood but he just can't do it. But, he's a legit dude and this show was his idea, so you gotta love him.

Next, you got Mario fuckin Lopez to host. He's really good at this job, because he's good at speaking into a camera, he always looks

unbelievably handsome and he dresses like he's going out to a nightclub in Miami every night. You can't help but enjoy watching him and listening to him talk about the crews even though you know he's probably dumb as shit and works out for 6 hours a day every day. Plus, his knowledge of the Spanish language pops up randomly in episodes, which is ... funny. Gotta love Mario.

Ok. The judges. There are three of them, each more absurd than the last.

First, there was Shane Sparks, an unknown but legitimate choreographer to the stars. He was a judge you could really trust because he obviously had a very strong background in hip hop and popular dance, and he made it happen for real. He was kind of nuts, wore hats that always concealed half his face, but gave great commentary. BUT, in this past season, he was replaced by Omarion, from the boy band B2K and later from his solo career as an R&B singer. Apparently, Mr. Sparks ran into to some trouble with the law. Something to do with child molestation charges. Eeek.

So MTV replaced with Omarion, who is so goddamn hot it doesn't make

any sense. He has that little boy voice and the fresh style and the best and cutest smile...Sigh. Anyway, he usually doesn't have anything productive to say, but he's frequently a positive voice from the judging table. Sometimes he just likes to call crews out on their bullshit. Gotta love Omarion.

Then....there's Lil Mamma. Can we just ask ourselves: Why is this girl on TV? Who gave her a microphone? Bitch is dumb as SHIT, but she really carries herself with so much poise and confidence, you find yourself actually trying to make sense of what she's saying. But she don't make no goddamn sense, EVER! Plus, is she even a dancer? All we know about her is that one hit song she had about lipgloss. In which she rapped. I'll give it to her, she's a gorgeous girl. And she is a girl, she's only just

turned 20 years old. Mammasita (as Lopez calls her) rambles in circles with the most absurd Bronx accent and her deep voice. She says stuff like "YALL KILT IT!" "YALL BRAWT IT!" The dumbest thing I can recall her saying is this, after We Are Heroes performed for the Champions for a Cause episode: "It's one thing to pop out of a box. But when you pop out of a box and dance like that, that's saying something." WHAT? She dresses like she's schizophrenic, too. Lil Mamma, you are so whylin. Gotta love her.

Finally, you got JC Chasez, or as I like to call him, Professor ABDC. You might remember him from a boy band called 'Nsync, of which he was a lead singer and a major

hottie. He's the oldest judge, in his 30s, and the person with the most accumulated fame and experience in the world of popular dance and performance. For god's sake, do you remember what 'Nsync used to do? He was like a mercenary of dance. JC is always SO SERIOUS. He ticks off names of dance moves that no one would know had names. He always brings the harsh critiques, and he always, always gets booed by the crowd for killing their buzz. He's often like, "Ok...I didn't screw up, don't boo me." LOL. He takes his judging very seriously and he's very intelligent with his critiques. GOTTA LOVE JC.

LBNL, there are the crews. What can I say? The crews are amazing. Let them speak for themselves.

My favorite crew ever is QuestCrew,

but Jabbawockeez are probably the illest of all time.

Other favorites include Jungle Boogie,

BluPrintCrew,

BeatFreakz,

and Vogue Evolution.

AND POREOTIX.

SO DOPE!!!

90.3 FM, WRIU

Now I will talk about the best decision I've ever made in my college, joining my univeristy's radio station. The station is called WRIU on 90.3FM. My show is called Mixed Nutz.

If you know me (and I think you do), you know I love music. I collect it, analyze it, experiment, I memorize it. I always want more and more. So, I've racked up a bit of a library on my iTunes. By the time I hit college, I was swapping my hand-picked mixes with friends and throwing the best jams into my student films.

That's how I got introduced to WRIU. In my first filmmaking class, I screened my final in front of my peers. A guy in my class complimented me on the soundtrack. He said I should be on the radio. He happened to be the general manager of Studio B, the internet station that trains people to ride the FM waves. I happily agreed. This was two years go.

I entered the radio station, placed in it's oddly hidden-yet-obvious location on campus. Far up on the top floor of a university building lay a haven of music, away from the meddling others. It was late at night when I arrived to my classmate's radio show, and I'll never forget what I saw when I entered the main studio.

The room was very dimly lit, as a giant bright green LCD screen ticked away military time and an old-school rotating red light hummed "ON AIR." The uneven walls were stacked, stuffed, piled from floor to ceiling with CDs. Graffiti covered every inch of the crumbling walls behind the soundboard. Microphones, zip-tied to gargantuan rotating arms, stretched around the DJ station like a huge, robot spider. The yellow and red lit keys on the mixing board glowed. My classmate was drunk on blackberry bourbon and offered me a shot as soon as he registered my face. His cohost was an evil queen type chick, with wicked cat eye glasses and piercings and a sexy deep voice. At a glance, I knew this was THE thing I had been waiting for at college.

I trained for a semester on Studio B, a small closet that embodied much of the charm as the main studio. I did it alone, for two hours, once a week. No one listens to the internet station, but I convinced my friends and family to tune in at least once. It was exciting in a way that something lame is exciting, before you realize it's lame. It was also kind of lonely.

Finally, a year and a half ago, I started training in the main studio. My classmate DJ friend abandoned his post by then, and I was in the hands of the main studio's general manager, a super unique guy named Tyler. Learning from him and getting to know him was an experience in itself.

How to explain Tyler. Well, he's in his mid-twenties but looks about 18, he's still an undergrad, pursuing a degree in Philosophy and computer science. He's nice as can be, but always has a pained look on his face. He is a vicious asshole when he doesn't like someone or something. His hair is sometimes long and shaggy, and he anxiously fiddles with it. He's kind of short but also kind of handsome. He's extremely nerdy, but also extremely hilarious. He likes to drink, a lot, and he likes to do uppers, a lot. He's a mechanical genius, as he built and engineered almost everything in the studio. He's ultra awkward to speak to, but he doesn't even care. He still runs the huge staff meetings, answering questions with lightning accuracy, peppered with large gaps of "UHHHHH...." He's a pretty awesome dude.

So, he trained me, with his friend Pat. Pat, aka George Moshington, is one of Tyler's oldest friends. He is a huge punk rocker, he's in his mid-twenties and has some kind of crippling illness that has him in a wheelchair. He likes to fight, listen to hardcore punk, smoke and drink. What else is there to say? He's a nice guy too.

With the blessings of the extremely eccentric heads of the station, I started my show, Mixed Nutz, on Wednesday (later switched to Thursday) nights from midnight to three am. I recruited my best buddy at college, Cass, to do it with me. She likes music as much as I do and her taste overlaps yet varies greatly when compared to mine.

Our shows are the ultimate mixed tape, pure in purpose: generate the most random and all-encompassing varieties of good, worthy music. Something that any kind of person could dig, if they had an open mind. We wanted to celebrate our wide span of music affinities while pushing ourselves to find even more obscure/popular tunes, all while providing our listens with the best and most fun listening experience. We've succeeded in all aspects.

Our genres consist of (and are in no way limited to): classic country, bluegrass, folk, rock hits from the 1950s-present, disco, classical, soul, blues, soft pop, psychedelia, electro, thrash, rockabilly, psychobilly, proto punk, punk, pop punk, hardcore punk, new wave, top 40, club hip hop, alt hip hop, underground hip hop, dance pop, metal, dance rock, techno, house, trance, blues rock, alt rock, reggae, reggaeton, comedy music, show tunes, other, and more.

We love doing our show so much: we sleep until 11 pm, obsessively create our playlists, smoke pot/cigarettes, drink beers, drive to the studio, chit chat with the DJs before us, and dig in to the night. The studio is always mercilessly hot, so you have to dress accordingly. When the phone rings in the studio, insane strobe lights go off so the sound of ringing won't be heard through the microphones. We beg and taunt people into calling up, so we can jabber on with them as long as possible. Sometimes we bring friends. We often dance around like we're being paid for it.

It's the best possible scenario: late night, blasting the best music you can think of in an awesome, isolated box. People call and tell you they love what you're doing. You drink and laugh with your best friend, talk music, talk about anything. You groove like nothing else matters. You focus in on your core -- your unflinching desire for amazing sounds and the feeling you get when your desires are fulfilled. No one is ever going to stop you or control you.

All I can say is, Listen to Mixed Nutz on 90.3FM, wriu, or stream it live on wriu.org on Thursday nights from midnight to three am.

!!!

Two Curious Short Films and A Wacky Production Company

As a teaching assistant for my beloved filmmaking professor KBro, I've been introduced to some very interesting short films and filmmakers.

I'll start with "Death To the Tinman," a rather inspired story of how the Wizard of Oz's Tinman came to be.


Watch Death to the Tinman in Entertainment | View More Free Videos Online at Veoh.com

The film, made by a young man named Ray Tintori, was awarded at the Sundance Film Festival in 2007. I found this story very engaging and the art design inspiring. I adore the image of the Tinman dressed ina skinny suit, lighting his cigarette from a Molotov cocktail. It's also great to revel in sin, as the Bill the Lumberjack and friends do with great conviction.

The second film to show is an internet porn experiment and it's quietly hilarious. Not what you think though. Check out "Internet Alphabet" by Joe Nanashe.



I've always had fun playing with the text-speech function on my old Macintosh laptop, and while I made it say "fuck" a lot, this is a much more clever use of the application.

Finally, I must introduce you to the Safdie Brothers,
who are part of a small collective a filmmakers in Red Bucket Films. Based in NYC, these guys are what you'd expect: spacey, dreamy, whimsical, beautiful and endearing artists. The Safdie's in particular enjoy creating a stimulus to which non-actors can react, thus creating a truly genuine performance. They've just premiered their second feature film, "Daddy Longlegs." As you can see, they're also fine, snappy dressers. Also nice guys, I met them.

Tattoos, Theories and Stupid Young Women

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Analyzing Weezer

Weezer has been the most definitive band in my life, and I have many thoughts about the band's past and present stages.

Past: Weezer was most definitely the first band that turned me into a rock music fan, around age 12. The music was gift-wrapped and handed to me, literally, by my uncle. The first album gave me no choice but to learn to play guitar.

I got the Blue Album and Pinkerton first. Blue Album is a collection of 10 PERFECT pop songs that happen to rock, HARD, that vary in shades from the cheeriest of the cheery to moody and complex, funny, questionable and deeply angry. I had never heard a thing like it.

Pinkerton follows, another flawless work of art: the most human, visceral lyrics with blood-boiling guitar swells and kooky riffs, heavy bass lines, untraditional drumming, four part harmonies and Rivers Cuomo's trembling (something stretching) tenor wail and whisper.

Some people might scoff at my musical adoration of Weezer, a band that has gone through so many transformations and in my (and other =w= die hards) opinion is that the first two albums could stand alone, on a pedestal, forever.

I loathed the Green Album, that popped up like a sickly sweet piece of candy and had none of the deeply prodding lyrics of it's predecessor, Pinkterton.

Then, out of no where, Maladroit shifts Weezer into a stoner heavy guitar blasting rock band once again. Some tracks from that album are so dazzling unique. I was sucked back into idol worship.

The next three albums (Make Believe, Red Album, Raditude) vary from experimental pop and interesting, an odd combination of past sounds but with one or two truly rad tracks, and utterly unlikeable, respectively.

Now hear me out. The Blue Album was completely essential to my childhood and adolescence. I listened to the whole thing through, on my boom box in my room or in the Discman, so many times that the words became my own thoughts, a part of my consciousness.

Pinkerton is my home. Every song on that album feels as natural in my ears as the sound of my own voice or my hands and feet. If I was halfway across the world and Pinkerton was playing, I would feel a calm that few other things could illicit.

Here's where my analysis comes into play:

I, as a human being and rock music slave, am not particularly INTERESTED in lyrics. I realized this after a phase through emo or whatever that I, a fervent poet myself, found few things in lyrics that interested me and I just favored the sounds. Perhaps I was missing out on something else that could have given me what I was looking for, but I had Weezer.

And what about Weezers lyrics? Mostly inane, simplistic. Depends on the album. You can hear nonsense storytelling, haiku, poetry, or line for line diary entries. You could hear pure rhyming fluff.

I have made meaning from Rivers' lyrical style. I understand it now, after years of immersion and also through research on my part of learning about and understanding Rivers as a musician. I know, for example, that he is a genius, a quiet but brilliant mind that honed in on and perfected his ideal pop rock music.

And what is Rivers' pop rock formula? Keep the instruments heavy and but simple, or delicate and simple, whatever the song may be. But the lyrics.... oh those tricky lyrics. They seem like nothing sometimes. But I learned that I really need to be listening to really appreciate them. The man is too damn smart to write a few mindless lines of lyrics. His words, while compact, carry the tell tale sings of GOOD writing: concise, carefully chosen and cleverly executed.

In the car, I was listening to a power pop jam called "Photograph" from my loathed Green Album (I have learned to appreciate it, if you must know).

Here are some of the lyrics:

If you want it, you can have it
But you've got to learn to reach out there and grab it

'Cause everybody wants some love
Shooting from the stars above
And though my heart will break
There's more that I could take
I could never get enough

If you need it, you should show it
'Cause you might play so monastic that you blow it

I could never let it go

It's in the photograph of love

'Cause everybody wants a dream
Something they can barely see
And though my heart will break
There's more that I could take

I could never let it be

As I listened to this perky song, with it's ultra cutesy "ooh-ooh-oohhs" and hand claps, I realized the lyrics were the advice I needed at that exact moment, on a very deep level.

Rivers is talking about the fear and obsession with the "photograph of love," the oh-so-far-away ideal that so many people struggle with and yearn for. He says, don't be afraid to get it if you want it. Solid advice. Everyone wants the love that "shoots from the stars," that sparkling fantasy, but even though he knows his heart will break, he knows he won't give up.

"If you need it, you should show it

'Cause you might play so monastic that you blow it"

This lyric is mind blowing. He's talking about me, perhaps just me as I see myself, or me the fan of Weezer that has been drawn to Rivers for this exact reason. If you NEED love, SHOW that you do, because if you play it off like you don't need anyone, you'll blow it. It seems trivial, but who HASN'T felt this way or dealt with these feelings? Shying away from love because of the fear of heartbreak? Obsessing over the idea of love and being too scared to reach for it? "Everybody wants a dream, something they can barely see."

You cannot underestimate the weight of his words. The way he says the lyrics, their arrangement, the word choices themselves reflect a sharp and introspective mind with a simple and heartfelt message.

Weezer is a really hard band to peg, and I feel like you either "get them" or you don't, you can judge them on their latest mediocre single or delve into their rich discography. But it's times like today, driving in the car, listening to "Photograph" that make me feel so blessed that they are such a large part of my life.

And while I'm talking about fantastically orchestrated yet get-wrenchingly relatable songs, here's "Tired of Sex," my most favorite Weezer song as of late and by far the best track I've ever heard open an album.

If you listen to Rivers speak, you might find out he's speaking to

you. It gives me chills.

I love Weezer so much, forever.

Oh Gaga

A few weeks ago, Gaga released the video for her song "Telephone," featuring Beyonce.

The video certainly caused commotion. It dazzles viewers with Gaga dancing in a thong, Gaga wearing crazy outfits, a horrendous acting performance by Beyonce, a mannish lesbian kiss, and more poison-induced murder. Well, don't take my word for it, watch this clusterfuck for yourself.



So the video received very mixed reviews, but for the most part, people didn't like it. And for good reasons. My blog of choice, Jezebel, said of the video, ""Telephone" is disjointed, self-indulgent, with jumbled, random references, poor pacing, wince-inducing acting and a strange, pro-woman, anti-man message. Oh, and it's ten fucking minutes long." That sums it up well.

The two biggest complaints I have about the video is the copious use of product placement (likely overused for the sake of irony) and the entire lack of connection to the subject of the song. It's dumb enough that we're forced to keep our eyes lingering on Virgin Mobile, Miracle Whip, Wonderbread and Polaroid labels. But for God's sake, the song is a club banger! It's a brand new take on feminine fun and empowerment as Gaga and Beyonce sing about not answering their man's call if they're dancing. And nevermind the goddamn PussyWagon. Stupid Tarantino, why do you have to disappoint me?


However, the mass murder sequence was delightful, as was the patriotic dance orgy at the very end. All we want is to see the two bitches dance, after all. And I'll add the Beyonce is just more gorgeous each time I see her, so oogling her get-ups and hair styles is almost enough for me.

Anyway, here's a completely different take on the song, a cutesy cover by the duo Pomplemoose.
It's quite good!



I was also unfortunate enough to come across the worst song I've ever heard, a cover of "Bad Romance" by a band called The Demonstration. The video is severely awful to boot. Brace yourself, this is about to get ugly. I'm serious, turn your speakers down.



I'm ALL about melodic death metal, but this is really, really bad. And so are the skanky chicks. Ugh. I'm actually really sorry I made someone watch that. But we need to know what we're up against.

My 10 Downloaded Cell Phone Ringtones

Hello,

I currently have 10 downloaded ringtones on my cell phone. I have Sprint's Rumor phone, it sucks, but it looks cool. Having these ringtones makes my phone better.

I used to buy ringtones while say, in class in high school instead of listening or while in the bathroom instead of washing my hands, but now I download them from from from Myxertones. It's probably illegal, but I do pay the cost of a text message to receive the tones, and I'm an internet pirate, so what the fuck ever.

Here are my tones.

1. "What It's All About" by Girl Talk

Specifically, the sample at the very end of the song that features a remixed version of "ABC" by the Jackson 5.

My ringtone starts at the 3:32 mark and features the mashup stylings of "Umbrella" by Rhianna and "Bohemian Rhapsody" by Queen. This tone is for my parent's house, labeled "Home."

2. "1969" by Iggy Pop and the Stooges

This one is solely for my best friend, Kayla.

She and I are bffls not because we have everything in common, but because we have only the most awesome things in common. We both love rock music and our dads are both old rockers and we don't put up with any of that bitch rock music. We love The Stooges. We also love the movie SLC Punk! and the soundtrack of that movie which changed our lives. "1969" is one of the key tracks from that album. When my phone rings and it's Kayla calling, up pops a picture of her making a weird smiley face with big sunglasses taken from the beach near our houses in Warwick, and Iggy singing. It's always summer when she calls!

3. "Come Together" by The Beatles

Dad's cell phone. This is a tricky one, because I have it start right at the beginning of the song, which is kind of soft, but it's a good one.

This is pretty easy to explain. My dad is an old Beatles die hard acid dropping Tolkien reading long haired freak. If not for my dad showing me the Beatles, I'd be dead in a ditch somewhere. I like this one particularly because it's groovy and weird.

4. "Fashion" by David Bowie

Oh dear. This is the big one, people. This is the ring tone for all caller ID calls. So 85% (I'm assuming) of calls I receive ring with this tone.

I don't need to tell you how I feel about David Bowie. It's a feeling that just grows and glows inside me. I really love him. He's so special to me. "Fashion" is genius, a perfect Bowie song, and it suits me quite well.

5. "I Think I Love You" by David Cassidy

I don't even know if I've assigned anyone to this ringtone. I got it for free from Oprah Winfrey. One day, I was watching her show and she was doing an "All Things '70s" show, and she had David Cassidy on to perform. She then shouted at the camera "I'M GIVING AWAY FREE DAVID CASSIDY RINGTONES TO ALL SPRINT PHONE USERSSSSSS!" and I was like, "shit, I'm a Sprint user" so I texted the number and got this free ring tone. Yup, that's it.

Randomness is a great thing. I'm glad I have this ring tone. Plus it was freeeezies.

6. "Mad Men Theme Song (A Beautiful Mine)" by RJD2

As I've already stated here on this blog, I love the show "Mad Men" and their theme song is hot as hell. This tone is assigned to blocked number calls, I believe, giving them an even more ominous feeling when the moment occurs and the phone rings.

7. "MCs Act Like They Don't Know" by KRS-One

This is for my friend Cassie. She's a bad ass bitch and my radio co host. I made her a mix with this song on it when we were 18 and to this day we thug out when we listen to it.

Cassie and I have been known to do some gangsta shit so this song suits her perfectly. Lots of hangovers, driving in cars with big sunglasses, selling weed, getting into fights at clubs, that kind of thing. This is our jam.

8. "Mother and Child Reunion" by Paul Simon

This one is for my beloved mom...duh. My whole family is huge Paul Simon fans, this song is one of my all time favorites. It's soooooo beautiful.

This song is sort of about the mother and child relationship, but not really. It just makes me love my mom when I hear it. We dance around the kitchen to this. I feel warm and fuzzy just listening to it. Paul Simon will always mean love to me. It's definitely a treat, no matter where I am, to hear this song and see my mom's face on my phone.

9. "Once Again" by Girl Talk

Girl Talk gets two spots on my cell phone. This tone is for my girl Linzi. She's a big GT fan and we chill all the time. We are often singing in her car, shaking our butts and waving our arms in the air. This is most def one of GT's best jams, but the part of this song that is my ring tone is PURE GENIUS. It's at the 1:25 mark. Ying Yang Twins vs. The Verve. Can you deal with that?

Linzi deserves it, that's all I have to say.

10. "The New Pollution" by Beck

Marissa, my sister, takes the title for this ringtone. She calls me A LOT, so unfortunately, this song has lost some of its joy because it has become associated with not answering the phone. But, way back in my memories, I remember my sister as the weird, skateboarding alt rock frizzy haired chick that gave me "Odelay." Beck is God to me, so that makes my sister ... Jesus?

Wow, just watching the video reinforces my beliefs. I love you sis!