Mystery Science Theater 3000 + Weird Al = nerd nirvana

Y'all have got to forgive me for the slow blog posts recently. You should have noticed something was wrong when we let Beyonce's various wigs, too obvious cultural references (Tarantino? Girl, you so edgy!) and Tourette's ticking from her latest video go untouched. And you didn't even call or write to check on me. You show me no love. It's ok though.

But this, THIS my friends, I could not let pass unblogged.

Dec. 16th and 17th the holiday event RiffTrax: The Christmas Shorts-Stravaganza (love the title) hits theaters nationwide. What it is is the cats from MST3000, (the perennial geek favorite) as well as Weird Al, watching classic Christmas related shorts including "Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer," commercials and whatnot, and cracking wise through out.

In a movie theater. And it's coming here.

I am so there...

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Great goings on tonight

(Please pardon the bare-bones, photo and link-less posts here; I'm operating with a 1983 Tandy right now)

Anyway, our ninja spies in Richmond tell us that last night's aloft event (they have an aloft hotel with wxyz bar there too, in Short Pump) was giving major fun; DJ Cornbread did his thing, and our friend, who we aren't sure is very coordinated, nonetheless won a snowboard. Cute. Tonight's event at aloft is invite-only, but if you email me right away (like, quick like a bunny, Daddy got places to go) I'll have a pass for you and a friend to attend. There will be music, flair bartending, food, fab faces and hopefully, lots of merriment and foolishness. Should be a hot event. 

Also tonight, our buddies at Commonwealth throw their 5th anniversary party at Granby Theater featuring DJ/producer 9th Wonder (wow), but UPDATE, this too is invite-only. Sorry kids.

Sounds like a lot of gate-crashing might be popping tonight...work it out then.

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We loved "The Color Purple"

I loved, loved, loved the musical "The Color Purple," which opened at Chrysler Hall last night for its short nun. Absolutely fabulous, and given that I generally hate musicals, you know I'm not blowing smoke.

The show, set in the rural South in the 1930s, opens with a big gospel number, and shifts right into the story of Celie, whose father has given away the two kids he fathered by her. (Bummer.) Celie is then forced into an abusive marriage with a man who has the hots for her only friend, her sister, Nettie. Nettie runs away (to Africa, we later discover) and so Cellie spends a chunk of her life as an unloved, abused, servant to Mister.

Until Shug Avery, this glamorous and sexual cabaret singer whom Mister is truly in love with, arrives, and teaches Celie how to love herself. (This is the super short plot synopsis.)

All this is executed, of course, through song and dance and the numbers are rip-roaring, toe-tapping, blockbuster, "that girl can 'Sang!' wowsers. My favorites where Sophia, the big, bossy broad who doesn't take junk from no man, and the three super nosey, gossipy black Yentas who get in everybody's business via funny harmonic interludes.

Despite what I thought was a too-long scene set in Africa, there wasn't a minute of the show I didn't like. I was even shocked, given how notoriously conservative black audiences can be, that the play treated Celie and Shug's eventual, apparently long-term same-sex relationship so casually; it was good to see complex, adult interactions between Afro-Americans not reduced to clichés or pat sentimentality. (Such a rarity in theater, right Tyler?)

Anyway, the audience was just as much white and Asian and Latin and on and on as it was black, and everyone seemed to love it. Not matter what ethnicity or experience you bring, we all can relate to wanting to be free and loved and treated with dignity and respect. And everybody loves hearing "You told Harpo to beat me? All my life I had to fight. I loves Harpo. But I'll kill him dead before I let him beat me."

Great show; don't miss it if you can. At Chrysler Hall ONLY til Sunday, the 15th, so don't delay.

Be sure to check out Mal Vincent's sure-to-be-better-than-this review on Thursday!

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Lady Gaga is new queen (and king) of the music video

Raise your hand if you got that.

On the real though, Gaga's video for "Bad Romance" is H1N1 sick, I'm-out-of-the-office-for-a-month devastating. Despite a lack of a cohesive narrative theme, and despite the fact that the song itself ventures into bad Euro trance, this video brings the heat. Literally. Fire, diamonds suspended in "Matrix" formation, 22nd century carrying on and decadence, Hello Kitty eyes, an alien spine, dance numbers, vinyl S&M inspired costumes, a hairless cat with a "grill," and my personal favorite, her clomping around in those not-even-out-yet, 10-inch, Spring 2010 Alexander McQueen lobster claw inspired shoes that are supposedly impossible to walk in as she chants, "Walk, walk fashion baby, work it, move that ****** crazy."

I can't.

Nobody can come for Gaga's videos right now. Nobody.

10s across the board.

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Chris Brown and Rihanna's questionable timing

Let's start with Chris.

First, no shade: I like this look. Chris has been defending himself lately against small-minded, likely uninventively dressed people who ridiculed him for this outfit on the cover of his new album "Graffiti," but (surprise) I think it's dope. Granted, the cartoon characters and metal limb are a bit confusing, but give me a fitted pant and a combat boot and I'm on board. (In fact I'm wearing a pair of similar wool trousers by my fave UK brand All Saints as I type this.) This look has been done for many seasons now by trendsetting designers including Raf Simons and Rick Owens; it's rock star; it's high fashion; if they don't get it Chris, they're late. Oh well.

Nope. My problem with Chris is beyond the look and beyond that "accident." It is, frankly, his music. Dude, "I Can Transform Ya" is bad. Well, it's not awful, it's just OK, but in my book OK might as well be bad. I'd much rather be offended than bored; at least the first gives me something to think about.

I think Chris is in too much of a hurry to put his major screw up behind him and move on--and who wouldn't be in his position?--but his haste comes at the detriment of the music. "I Can Transform Ya" is the kind of mediocre Swizz Beatz meets AutoTune pop-R&B drivel anyone else could do. Actually, everybody is doing it. Up until his crime, Chris was a leader of the pack; this song puts him in the same league as Mario, Trey Songz, Omarion and scores of other shirtless crooners whose music is largely indistinguishable from one other.

What Chris SHOULD have done (since you asked) was wait. Wait a year. Wait a year and a half. Wait until public outcry died down, wait until he'd done some community outreach, some quiet soul searching (that we could see reflected in appropriately timed paparazzi pictures) and wait until he could come back with a cutting edge sound that would make his music stand out and speak for itself. "I Can Transform Ya" and this bi-polar album cover--part high fashion, part street,  part anime--feel rushed, and confused.

I really want to give this guy a hug. Let it out bro. Lean on me.

As for Rihanna, I'm REALLY not feeling her timing. Granted, she was a victim of an awful, public crime and she's entitled to heal however she needs to. But if you've yet to ask yourself this, take a moment to do so: 'Why's she talking about this beat down now?' For months she's been trotting around, literally being photographed every time she changes shoes, but she chooses to go on Diane Sawyer to talk about domestic violence (and then play her new video!) now? Why?

Might it have something to do with her album out, Nov. 23?

Her phoenix from the flame parade seems awfully transparent, like she's pimping her victimization for profit. Yes, what happened to her was awful. Yes, she should speak out to help other women and girls in the same situation. But linking the tragedy and the tears to the promotion of her new project seems like a cheap attempt at manipulating us emotionally to reach for our wallets, and I don't like that at all.

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Two very promising upcoming parties you should be seen at

(Today is National Use Improper Grammar in Blog Post Headline Day. Get into it.)

While there is some comfort in being a regular somewhere -- I'm certain that "Norm" from "Cheers" felt a surge of love whenever he walked in the bar door -- there's also something very chic and mysterious about spacing out your public appearances as to cultivate some allure. Overexposure always leads to an inevitable backlash -- just ask Mr. Obama.

*As for maintaining some seductiveness in your social life, you must sometimes pull back. You simply cannot be known as the desperate person who'd attend the opening of an envelope. This takes discipline and restraint, and sometimes, some fudging. No one needs to know that you're actually at home on Saturday night doing a hot oil treatment and cleaning the tub. (Self-disclosure much?) But the truth is that sometimes NOT being seen does more for your image (what, you don't have one?) than being seen does. This way, when you do arrive to the right event or fabulous party, you're Bruce and everyone else is just the band.

That being said, the next two weekends bring the promise of can't-miss, you-need-to-be-seen-here, absolutely vital to your social life parties. You might even totally let your hair down here, dance, cut up and act a fool. *And that'll be OK, since you so rarely go out, right?

FIRST: beloved mixmaster DJ Cornbread is doing a set of Afrobeat and Brazilian music at The Boot, this Friday the 13th. (Oh, grow up.) Reviewing our buzzwords here: 1. DJ Cornbread, known for his intricate, smart blends of intelligent, good music; 2. Afrobeat and Brazilian music, both rarities to hear in a market sticking rigidly to Top 40, and both fabulous forms of music for dancing all night to (what you know about Jump N Funk?) and 3. The Boot, the Norfolk bastion of hipsterdom, and good food

This is the kind of thing we need more of. Do not miss. Go to The Boot's website for details.

SECOND: aloft, the hotel in Chesapeake with the nifty lounge, is having a celebration of its first year on the 19th. They're pulling out the big guns for this party: Scion is sponsoring, and there's going to be a flair bartending competition (meaning my boy JW and his crew will be tossing bottles in the air and juggling them as he makes drinks). All the who's who will be in the house and again, Cornbread will spin a no doubt excellent set. This one is invite-only, which means now is the time to do everything you can to get on the guest list.

*You're welcome.

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Breaking: MAE trying to salvage tour after robbery

Big shout to Meghan for this one:

MAE reported via Twitter just an hour ago that their van and trailer were stolen from their hotel (thanks security!) All their equipment and merchandise, they reported, are gone and they're trying to salvage the show for a Boston date.

We just tried calling to get more info but couldn't reach them.

When we do, we'll share.

Bummer.

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You'll never believe who we ran into last night

Ok so, not even a week ago, we did a post about the group Pretty Ricky coming to town. The post, which we obviously and clearly forgot about, said they were coming to town Nov. 4th.

So in the post, we were, as usual, tongue in cheek and a bit ribald as we wrote about the group of 'dusty miscreants from Florida' who sing these incredibly raunchy songs. "Lock up your daughters!" we wrote.

Boy. We really wished we hadn't written that last night.

Why? Because last night me and a friend popped over to aloft in Chesapeake (our previous fave spot for quiet, great drinks in a fabulous setting, which we had abandoned because the "wrong crowd" had found out about it; but now they've appeared to have moved on, and so now we totally go there all the time again. Bar re-gentrification, get into it.)

Anyway, yeah. aloft. Drinks with our life coache/amazing bartenders Dora and JW. We're at the bar and notice a tinge of "that element" outside; smoking what we hoped were cigarettes, baggy jeans, long, loud chains, sneakers, etc. Looking REAL dusty, child. But, you know, they're totally appropriate, not loud or out of control or anything, harmless, minding their business. They're tinkering with laptops, so I'm guessing they're having some sort of business meeting. Paying them very little attention actually.

We keep drinking. Why not? We love Dora and JW.

So we take a break, go outside for fresh air and the very lovely, very pretty girl we were chatting with goes, 'You know that's that group Pretty Ricky over there right?'

DEAD.

Look over and yup, sure enough, Oh My God, the Grindman himself, Sexy Spec, who I pretty much called a "horned up sexual deviant."

Oh, that's lovely.

So we go over. Say our name, say what we do, name-drop a publicist so he wouldn't think I was a random, strange fan. (But I mean, look at me. Do I look like a zealous Pretty Ricky fan?)

But you know what? Spec was warm, friendly and inviting. His other friends -- and this is the most appropriate verb choice ever --  scattered, but he was really nice. They were about to do a gig at Illusionz, the club in Chesapeake, he said, and he was online chatting with fans. (They do a web show every weeknight, he said.)

We talked about his upcoming album, out Nov. 17th. To be totally honest, I think Pretty Ricky's music is actually pretty good. Not my thing, but totally tolerable and actually, for what it is and intends to be, executed well. Put it this way, if one of their songs come on the radio, I don't immediately change it. Anyway, there are no guest stars, he said, just them, and new member Lingerie. (Big, long sigh.)

He's 23, he said, and yes, young girls do come to the shows, he said with a tinge of exasperation, but the moms come too, and they love it. (And why wouldn't they? A concert, a pseudo-strip show AND you know where your teenage daughter is? Win-win-win) He said he was going to do more of his videos, and he's preparing for a part three of "Tipsy in This Club"  and he's looking for a sexy female to audition and join him in the third installment of the grind fest.

Lord, my levees are broken...I look to you.

So, I was wrapping up to return to my drink. Besides, I wanted to allow him and his friends to return to showing off their abs and underwear, on camera, in the lobby of the hotel. (Sigh.)

He said, do you have a card? I didn't but said, "Hey, you're online, you can go to my blog. I just did a post about you the other day."

As soon as the words came out of my mouth, I thought, 'Oh dear. Oh my. Good heavens, no. Noooo.'

D'oh!

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Dwele is coming to town to work with Nottz

A little birdie tells us that kindofabigdeal, somewhat reclusive (but super-nice) producer Nottz will soon be hosting soul crooner Dwele at his mysteriously located Norfolk lair in the coming days.

We wonder if this means Dwele--you know, the guy that sings along Kanye on "Flashing Lights" and has that super-jazzy McDonald's commerical -- will just stay in town until his gig on the 15th at the Downing-Gross Cultural Arts Center in Newport News? Hmmm.

Meanwhile, did you know for a paltry $40 you can get in on a VIP "Ladies Night" package, which allows you to sit front row, get an autographed item and even have dinner with Dwele?

Go 'head and spend that 'drinks and the club' money girl. Dwele puts on a good show. And he all smoove and stuff...

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Blues scene gives blues fans well, the blues

Over the past few weeks a number of blues fans have written expressing concern about the blues scene - or lack thereof - here and, presumably, elsewhere.

To borrow liberally from one eloquently written and non-psycho maniac-on-speed rant (thank you!) email:

Case in point... I went to a Discovery Music series blues concert at the Attucks Theatre and was surprised when the MC told the roughly 40 people in the mostly empty theatre, “I’m glad to see so many more people coming out for events than we had last year.” It made me sad to see the historic black theatre so empty for a young musician, John Bigham (The soul of John Black), who mixes blues, soul, R&B and rap and who’s played with Dr. Dré, Eminem, Fishbone, Miles Davis, Everlast and Nikka Costa. Why were the few people in attendance 60 year old white men with pony tails and their wives? There were maybe 5 African Americans in the theatre.

He went on to talk about how the blues - a traditionally Afro-American form of music with such deep historical ties and such a rich legacy - was going largely unobserved by, more or less, young black kids. Sad though that it is, it's an unremarkable occurrence; it happened with jazz, and will no doubt one day happen with hip-hop music.

Others have called or written saying that the blues, in general, don't get no respect, and well, yeah, you're probably right. While I certainly have nothing against the blues per se it's not exactly the sexiest form of music out there. While I do appreciate it very much, it is, to be blunt, kind of a Debbie Downer. Not that there's anything wrong with that. Ghostface Killah isn't always a visit to Disneyland either.

So we'd like to officially kick off a genuine attempt to pay more attention to the blues (and believe me, it's not like we can't relate...shout out to the homies Xanax and Klonopin) with letting you know about the following.

Tonight, acclaimed group Sparky & Rhonda Rucker will do a FREE show at Dockmaster's at Waterside at 7 p.m.

On Friday, the wonderful Homemade Jamz Blues Band will do a show at the Attucks Theatre as part of the fabulous Discovery Music Series; they're a trio of siblings from Miss. who play homemade instruments.

And on Saturday, blues man Angelo plays at the Meyera Orbendorf Library in Virginia Beach; call 538-1959 for info.

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