VH1 News Special : Who Is Michael Jackson? – Wrong on so many levels I can’t even begin to go into it.

In a recent interview in MAXIM magazine, Steven Tyler was asked where he would place Aerosmith in the Rock God Pantheon. He answered, “Somewhere just below the Rolling Stones and above Zeppelin.”

Personally, I would place them somewhere just below the Monkees and just above NSYNC.

Never consistent, they lost it so badly in the 80s that they had to employ the songwriting talents of Diane Warren. Go visit Diane’s site and tell me if you see the Rolling Stones or Zeppelin in the lists of artists she’s helped. You won’t, trust me.

Don’t even put yourself in the same class Steven. Go back to rehashing the pseudo—boogie of cheap throwaways like Big Ten Inch into songs like Rag Doll and Love In An Elevator. Or keep trying to pass off those lyrical and melodic ripoffs of second rate Rod Stewart hits. Lets compare shall we?

Aerosmith’s Girls Of Summer

Some girls are all about it
Some girls they love to let it fly

Some girls can’t live without it
Some girls are born to make you cry

Rod Stewart’s Some guys have all the luck

Some guys have all the luck
Some guys have all the pain
Some guys get all the breaks
Some guys do nothing but complain

Now go listen to the melodies. Seem just a wee bit similar don’t they?

Rock Gods my arse!

Has anyone noticed the state of Donald Trump’s hair lately?

Here’s a multi-millionaire with the ability to afford the finest care for hair loss, and what does he choose instead? A bad combover. Don, call the Hair Club for Men! Stop combing it over. You look ridiculous!

Pining the loss of your favorite internet radio station? Want to set up your own stream? For those of you that haven’t seen the latest in personal streaming there’s Muse, a centralized service similar to SHOUTcast, and then there’s Andromeda.

Andromeda differs in that it’s a standalone script that you can run from anywhere, offering the ability to stream your mp3s from a web host, or your own personal web server. For more on what Andromeda is capable of, check out the features.

I’d like to know who did the Austin Powers Goldmember Official Movie Site, because their javascript files look awfully familiar. It seems they pretty much just lifted them from glassdog. They didn’t even bother to remove the comment referencing glassdog.

To compare:

• http://www.glassdog.com/js/magic.js
• http://www.austinpowers.com/jscript/library_01.js

Technically they could have gotten this one from siteExperts.com, but since they also use another script which is plainly from glassdog, I think it’s safe to assume it came from glassdog instead of siteExperts.

• http://www.glassdog.com/js/smooth.js
• http://www.austinpowers.com/jscript/library_02.js

Now if this was just another personal site, it wouldn’t be so bad. But this is a commercial site that someone probably paid beaucoup bucks for. So it’s a bit of a letdown. Especially when, and this is in no way meant to insult glassdog, there are much more current, and cross-browser compatible DHTML libraries and functions to be had.

Now for what I really came to rant about.

How did Beyonce Knowles get her role in this film and why is she getting all the focus? I wanna know who they greased to put her in this film. She’s a 2-bit singer whose mommy and daddy have been driving her career since day one and she wouldn’t know Soul if Satan Himself offered to buy hers in exchange for a contract with Mowtown.

Didja notice she was placed in the middle of the poster? Didja? Didja? Didja?!

I can see the family rejecting other layouts, “But Beyonce’s not in the middle in this one. We simply can’t approve a poster where our little girl isn’t featured in the middle. Beyonce’s always in the middle, aren’t you dear? Yes you are my little cash cow.”

While I clock in with just under 20 of the One Hundred Albums You Should Remove from Your Collection Immediately list [ed.—We are not saying which ones we have.], the only one you will have to pry from my cold, dead hands is Physical Graffiti. [via anil]

I only check my stats every once in a while. There’s never been much worth reporting. But since the host jump I’ve been keeping a little more of a watchful eye, since I’ve been moving stuff around. And I’ve noticed a couple of disturbing developments.

There is a growing number of hits from my ex’s place of business. When I let this URL slip, I have no idea, but let me take this opportunity to welcome whomever it may be. Hi, *waves*. Don’t let idle curiosity get the best of you. I’ve only ever mentioned you/her once. Back away from the website. Nothing to see here. Move along. That is of course unless you like reading this boring crap, and then feel free to hang around. I can use the hits.

[Update—Upon reflection, I decided to disallow access from that site. It somehow seems the best and wisest course of action. Wouldn’t you agree?]

Next, there is someone checking this site in the wayback machine. My advice? Don’t go in there, it’s dark!

Lastly, I am getting referrals via some rather odd search requests.

• farting videos
• massage me breasts
• lick me
• how to explain how much you mean to me

And except for the last one, for which I currently hold the #2 position, I am buried deep, deep, deep in the search results. Trust me, there’s no licking, farting or breast massaging going on here. This weblog just ain’t that crazy baby. When you need that fix, go see Dan at redcricket.

In entertainment news, Angelina Boots Billy Bob. And they laughed at us when we said it wouldn’t last.

And I don’t know how I missed it, but Anna Nicole has a reality show. Prediction: She and her twin Hindenburgs are going down like lead balloons.

More Reality TV based crap under the guise of music television brought to you by the people at VH1. Can’t these small-minded individuals get it through their tiny brains that we are only interested in them bringing us more in the way of music, and not in stupid rehashed Oprah topic rejects like “Who’s your favorite dead rock star?” posed to the usual cast of Jerry Springer 2 minutes of fame trailer park rejects that think Aerosmith came out in the 90s? How about playing more music by my favorite dead rockstar, you panty waist, wannabe rock star, marketing executive, with your iBook and no ideas. You wouldn’t know a musical note if it set up a Marshall stack in your eardrum, cranked everything to 10 and blew your brains out. Why don’t you spotlight some new music instead of spoonfeeding us bland, tasteless, musical oatmeal from pretty bright colored boxes? I bet you think you’re hip because you listen to Nelly and the Red Hot Chili Peppers? Get away from me, you make me sick.

I’m not fanatical about any band or its music, but I come close when the band is Led Zeppelin. That’s the band for me. I can discuss and listen to them all day, and the only song I ever feel the tiniest urge to skip is ‘The Crunge’. And yet when it comes to any of the solo work that the remaining members have put out I find that I don’t care for most of it. It’s a bunch of candy store rock that leaves me a little dazed and confused. Not because it isn’t Led Zeppelin, but because it’s so far from anything I like that if it weren’t for the fact that it’s them, I would have just said, “Thank you, but this seems like tea for one, and I’m in the mood for a hot dog, some custard pie, and a shot of tequila.”

There are of course exceptions, and I don’t want to dismiss the entire musical output of these guys post-Zeppelin. By far Robert Plant has been the most prolific, and has taken the most chances with his career. He’s had some great moments, but there’s so little in his catalog I care for. I couldn’t follow him on it, but I totally respected his journey.

Then the Page/Plant thing happened and I was enthralled by the possibilities. I was at the premier of No Quarter at the Beacon Theater in NYC and got to meet both of them briefly. I thought this was the start of a great new direction, not a resurrection [ed. note—Based on the live concert film, not the album, which we thought didn’t have the same effect]. They seemed to be in a place where they could bring it on home and play as friends in the light of perspective, not swinging on some gallows pole, or thrown into the ocean with the weight of Led Zeppelin tied around their necks. And that’s the way it should have been done. I don’t need Zeppelin back, I just need to be able to follow along with where an artist is going, and here I thought I could.

Then they put out Walking into Clarksdale and I thought I was going to be sick again. It took a completely different tack, and I felt a bit like a fool in the rain. It was definitely a heartbreaker. It was as if I saw the architectural plans for the houses of the holy, to be built using nothing but the best materials, but the completed structure turned out to be a little shack down by the seaside made from four sticks of drift wood. This skewed perception is of course nobody’s fault but mine, but ultimately I had to say, “I’m very happy for you and everything, and I’m glad you like it, but I’m sorry, it’s time to ramble on. So I’ gonna crawl over the hills and far away from this place.” Not to say that I closed my ears to future offerings, but if this was the new direction, then I wasn’t a fan.

But recently Plant began striking out on his own, apparently looking for new directions of his own again, and intent on reviving his solo career, which was now about ten years gone, and I was glad to hear it. I was even more excited to hear about the VH1 Storytellers episode with him, and the release of the Dreamland album. I mean, here’s the guy who for me, has the greatest voice in rock and roll, and who I look at as an intriguing, intelligent person and artist.

Well he still has the voice, still has the heart, still has the soul, but I don’t think he’s got the material to really bring it all together. I thought the show, and the performances were a bit lackluster overall. Neither did I feel any connection to the material on this new album, the majority of which is composed of cover tunes. Nothing here really squeezed my lemon.

I love that as an artist, he’s experimenting, but what do you do when you love the artist and not the art? How many more times can you try to find a way through what seems to have become a major communication breakdown, without feeling trampled underfoot. I’m not about to say, “Babe, I’m gonna leave you”, but I constantly find myself saying, “Since I’ve been loving you, I’m about to lose my worried mind.” In the end I can’t deny that I still have a whole lotta love for these guys regardless of what they do. Through good times bad times, they still get all my love and support whether I can say “You shook me”, or not. I know your time is gonna come. After all, the song remains the same doesn’t it?