Madonna On Pele

Ok, so the title doesn't mean anything. Although it does have a Pavement-like irregularity to it. Flux=Rad, Date w/ IKEA, Jackals, False Grails: The Lonesome Era, and Internal K-dart, just to name a few. Of course, these titles themselves are a direct infraction/reflection of The Fall's Mark E. Smith's genius: Underground Medecin, WMC-Blob 59, Spectre Vs. Rector, Psykick Dancehall, Rowche Rumble, et al. The reason I thought of all this drivel was because I was watching Madonna on ABC television the other night. Actually, it was on Bravo also. I was feeling it all the way in simulcast. I don't know if that's the right term, but it's sort of like when you're watching Detroit sports teams on national network television- you almost always have to turn off the sound and put on your local radio so you don't have to listen to some L.A. schroeder crank it and cock-block Detroit from whoever Detroit is versus. Anyway, she was jamming ABC Television Special-style. Sort of like an after-school special, but rated: AWESOMER. I happened to catch her shredding Ray of Light, all leotarded out-- First Act guitar in hand( I don't think it was the Paul Westerberg model), Ok, it was a Gibson, but like a new Gibson, so it was probably made in the same butthole the First Acts are made. She was just cranking the jam, somehow confusing her bi-curious nature in a unassuming, aggresively timid/masculine posture, usually reservered for the chicks in Lenny Kravitz videos. Madonna is still jamming. I was watching that particular ABC Madocudonna concert event in simulcast and just fucking jamming, Cicconi style. I'm usually not totally into Madonna. Most of the time I just get pissed at what a fat piece of shit in a leotard she is. Let's see...there was the whole washer-ring wedding gown thing, that video where she's ramping up on a black saint and burning crosses and jamming, Shanghai Surprise, the Sex book (I was like, no shit? That's Big Daddy Kane! Then I was all, sick! That's fucking Vanilla Ice!) We've suffered through bottle blowjobs, pointy cone tits, Evita, Maverick records (thanks for Alanis Morrisette by the way), ancient mystic jewishism, the fake english accents, the clearly gay fake English husband, the haggotry of her and Rupert Everett (you remeber him, right? No, that's Rupert Holmes who did Escape(the pina colada song)), the African kidnapping, This used to be my playground (and just to clear things up, there is crying in baseball) again with the leotards, the unitards, the omnitards, and perhaps the most damning of them all, her tonguing Britney Spears at the MTV video awards (two words: her peas) I'm mostly just pissed about Shanghai Surprise. And the bull dance. Anyway, she was kickin' out Ray Of Light, just feelin' the flow, shredding some chords on her First Act guitar, and I thought to myself, just fucking jam on it, Madonna, you deserve it. You are an awesome....and a fucking fat piece of shit in a leotard MILF. I don't see why she couldn't become the biggest female pop star of her generation. Who's that girl? Madonna. Plus, she's like a lyrical genius. Take this:
La Isla Bonita
Last night I dreamt of San Pedro. Just like I'd never hung with D. Boon, I knew the song, bitch-tits. A young girl with eyes swollen from mosquito bites. It all seems like y'all need to get your shit lined-up and fucking step up to the mic., motherfuckers! And you can dance!
My spanish lullaby.

Suck on that.

Out.

I Jam Pro Bono

Pro Bono is a Latin term that means for the public good, or some such dreck. It is not in reference to the support of one Paul David Hewson, AKA Bono, lead singer of the legendary rock band U2. I mean, don't get me wrong, I'm OK with Bono- mostly because he's friends with The Edge, which is a place where I think we'd all like to be- friends with someone whose name is The Edge. As a matter of fact, anybody who's ever wanted to be anybody has yearned for at least one friend who is named after an inanimate object, or at the very least, has a nick name that actually sticks. Take Mike Seaver for example. On Growing Pains, he had a friend known as Boner. You too, may have a friend named Boner, but it has to be a person to count. Sha-Na-Na fans rejoice in the fond relationship they once had with a man named Bowser. By the way, if you ever do pose-dives to impress people when you jump into a pool or lake, the Bowser is still acceptable as long as you shout "oh, yeah..." in your deepest barritone before flexing your muscle and splashing down. It's stil considered a classic, right next to the Gene Simmons (spit cherry Kool-Aid before you hit the water), Evel Kenivel (air handle bars), King Tut (Steve Martin style), or Wok With Yan(make a delicious stir-fry mid-air). By the by, did Yan ever make anything aside from stir fry and hilarious aprons with clever wok-oriented jokes on them? Wok The Dog. Will Wok For Food. Wok Me Up Before You Go-Go. Everybody's Wok-ing For The Weekend. I know he went on to do some adventurous pan-Asian/fusion quisine on Yan Can Cook- like stir fry with pineapple. Laverne and Shirley had Squiggy. Dwayne and Rog had Rerun. But all of these examples are fake because these are characters on situational television comedies. Bono and The Edge are real people. My friend Kevin's nick name is The Hawk, but he gave himself that nickname, so it doesn't really count. See, here's where the gray area is- If you give yourself a nickname, you're kind of a rake. But if you give yourself a pseudonym or a nom de plume, you are at once, hot shit. Don't even get me started on AKA's in the rap game- you know all those fucking assholes gave themselves those names. Calvin Brodus is Snoop Dogg? 50 Cent is Martin Kelvin? Ice Cube is Oshea Jackson? At least Ghostface Killah's real birthname name is Ghostface Killah. I applaud rappers and entertainers coming up with dumb,fake names. Lately there has been a rash of regular-guy names dropping albums. Mike Jones? Chris Brown? David Banner? What the fuck? Who's next? Indiana Pacers forward-guard Ron Artest? Wait, what? Luckily, pop-culture references are catching up to a generation, and we now have kids being named after pop-stars (Britney,Lindsay,Paris,CarrotTop), Athletes (LeBron, Shaq-fu, Tiger), Actors (Charlize, Halle, Scarlett), Liquors (Midori, Alize, and Tequila are actual names of kids at my school). What ever happened to the classics (Beowulf, Elspeth, Benedict, Millicent, Winston, or Lucky)? Whilst we're on the topic, if you're going to name someone something, try to not do what these celebrity assholes have done:
Baby Name: Kal-el (Nicholas Cage), Apple (Gwyneth Paltrow), Banjo (Rachel Griffiths), Moses/ Lark Song/Phineas/Summer Song/Soon-Yi (Mia Farrow), Pilot Inspektor (Jason Lee).
What was my point? Oh, I Jam Pro Bono. It means I Jam for free. So let's fucking jam on it!
Here's some songs I've been listening to that you might want to get your mitts on.
Blanche- What This Town Needs
OK, so Alt-country has always been under suspicion. If you could take a moment to weed out the total shit bands that function under this header, you might end up with a shortlist of about 20 worthwhile endeavors- unfortunately, that moment that you took actually lasted 14 hours, and you will never get it back. Plus, I'm pretty sure that Kenny Chesney is considered Alt-country. It remains to be seen if his alternative status has had any impact on Jimmy Buffet being considered a Folksinger. Now, I might be a homer because Blanche live in my neighborhood,and my grandma's name was Blanche, but remember- I pay property taxes to live here.

Nancy Sinatra- Tonight You Belong To Me
I was listening to The Jerk when my girlfriend was watching it in the other room. I wish I could find the Steve Martin/Burnadette Peters ukelele version, but I love Nancy Sinatra. It's an amazing song that will get stuck in your head forever, and then you'll get pissed off at me for poinjting it out and that they don't write songs like that anymore. But after you wash the blood off your hands, dye your hair with shoe polish, and make a break for Mexico, you'll just start humming that fucker again, so don't do it.

The Flaming Lips- My entire The Flaming Lips collection.
Jackie Netflixed The Fearless Freaks movie and if you don't totally wanna jam your Lips records after seeing that fucker, there's something wrong with you. See it. Jam on it, freaks.