Warning... this is an adult site. If reading or viewing things about what gay men do sexually with one another bothers you - you should not read this blog. This blog is a reflection of my adventures and thoughts. Some are fun, some not so pretty. I won't name names, or kiss and tell... but I will live to tell. And baby, trust me - I am gonna spill it all over your pretty little party dress. Enjoy!
In the mood for some dance-floor filling sounds...
I must say, you are in for quite the treat.
Up first? A bit of text book Ibiza with a chorus you're sure to crave, rave it up with Dust from Alan Walker and Robin Packalen.
Then, bringing his distinctive sound to the club with a true diva in tow, it's that titanium pairing of David Guetta and Sia with the sonically-sublime throb of Beautiful People.
And finally, with more cooks in the kitchen than a five star restaurant and serving up something just as tasty, we haveMeduza, Inellea, Genesi featuring Nu-La with the sensuously churning club-thumper Edge Of The World.
All in all, a trio of destined to be dancefloor classics.
Beautiful people say 'yes', indeed!
Midweek hump?
Feeling in the dumps?
Here's some music to make your heart jump!
- uptonking from Wonderland Burlesque
Dust - Alan Walker and Robin Packalen
Beautiful People - David Guetta and Sia
Edge Of The World - Meduza, Inellea, Genesi feat. Nu-La
If
Calvin Harris and David Guetta are indebted to Tony Moran for their current
mainstream success, then the same is true of every DJ when it comes to one of
the premier pioneers of dance music, the incomparable Giorgio Moroder.
Back in
the early days of disco, over in Germany, Giorgio was brewing up a sound unlike
any other. His partnership with Donna
Summer and his numerous film soundtracks (‘American Gigolo’, ‘Midnight Express’,
‘Metropolis’, ‘Cat People’) brought his unique style to the states, tearing up
the charts worldwide while helping to create the inescapable sensation that was
disco.
He’s
worked with numerous artists (Blondie, David Bowie, Phillip Oakley, Limahl,
Berlin, Kenny Loggins, Janis Ian, Freddy Mercury, Bonnie Tyler, Daft Punk) and enjoyed many hits through the years, but
it is his most recent return to the #1 spot on Billboard’s Dance Club Play
chart that has me singing his praises.
Teamed
with dance icon Kylie Minogue, ‘Right Here, Right Now’ hits all the right
notes, making for a sweet listen. Kylie’s performance is pitch-perfect and the
song’s uplifting, soaring chorus will get in your head and refuse to
leave.
Let’s
hope there is more Giorgio where this came from.
Every
once in a while a pop song will come along that immediately captures my
attention, making it a must have. The
hook is undeniable, or the vocals dead on, or the production shines and is of
its time – something about it makes me jump on board like a circuit boy at a
gay pride parade.
That’s
why, when said single fails to catch fire, is ignored by radio and lacks
significant sales – it leaves me wondering WTF?
It also has me questioning my taste in music.
Such is
the case with today’s selection of singles that failed to break big.
Sledgehammer
Fifth Harmony
I was
rather lukewarm about Fifth Harmony’s first single, ‘BO$$’ and sort of wrote
them off as yet another reality show girl group with little staying power. However, my assessment has since changed, solely
based on the outrageous pop chops on display in ‘Sledgehammer’.
The
first time I heard this song, it was blasting from the radio as I was scraping
snow off my car. Oddly enough, it was
the lyrics that caught my attention. It
sounded like something from 1994. Yes, I
came for the lyrics, but I stayed for the production and performance. It has wiggled
its way into my brain, where it has stayed for several months. I love this song. So why did it only peak for a single week at
#40 on Billboard’s Hot 100? It should have been massive.
Stuck On A Feeling
Prince Royce feat. Snoop Dogg
Prince
(the purple one) / Marvin Gaye retreads have been hitting the pop charts a lot
lately. So, if Robin Thicke can score
with ‘Blurred Lines’, and Jason Derulo can hit with ‘Talk Dirty’, then why has
there been no love for Prince Royce’s ‘Stuck On A Feeling’. A song that has the same subtle rhythmic
pulse that made Justin Timberlake’s ‘Cry Me A River’ break huge? Not even the presence of Snoop Dogg can make
me turn away – I like the song so much, I actually find his rap rather
charming.
So what
is it? Played out? Too much of an undercurrent? What?
Dangerous
David Guetta feat. Sam Martin
Not a
fan of Guetta. Typically, I find his
lyrics horribly forced and simplistic, his production rather rote and lacking
personality. That is NOT true of ‘Dangerous’
– a true pop gem that sparkles and pops with an urgency that I find super
stimulating. Yet, while spending weeks
in the lower half of the Hot 100 and getting a bit of airplay, it has yet to
crack the Top 40 – a situation that has me scratching my head.
Is it
me?
Burnin’ Up
Jessie J feat. 2 Chainz
If ‘Bang
Bang’ worked for pop radio, then why not Jessie J’s follow-up, ‘Burnin’ Up’? This track sizzles. In my head, I keep picturing the pedal step
that propels her across the stage during the breathy little breaks. Super sexy.
And she is.
So what
gives? This is an artist that deserves
to break much bigger than she has, yet Jessie solo can’t seem to catch a break.
Well,
there they are, in all their slick, gleaming potential. So, please leave a comment if you agree or
disagree. Is it me? Am I out of step with the times? I find each of these songs exhilarating – not
original, by any means, but a whole lot of fun.
Where
did the month go? August is rapidly coming
to an end and I have tons of songs to review.
Still, based on what I’m sampling today, perhaps we’re not missing out
on all that much.
The
sole exception? Meghan Trainor’s
breakthrough single, ‘All About That Bass’, which could end up being August’s
saving grace and end up as one of the best songs of the year. It’s infectious. Joyful.
Brilliant. Take a listen to it
and I dare you not to get sucked in.
As for
the rest? Surely something to talk
about, but nothing to make me wanna do ‘The Schmoney’.
More
like cheese and macaroni.
Or
day-old baloney.
Day-old
baloney… you know, kind of like the sound of a steel guitar.
Lovers on the Sun
David Guetta
feat. Sam Martin
What a frothy spew: spaghetti western synth-pipes and pseudo
guitar, over the top vocals complete with war yodels, and lyrics that are only
out-cheesed by the standard issue synths.
At this point David Guetta is to dance what paint by
number sets are to art. It challenges
you not, and you know exactly how the whole thing is going to turn out, even
before you open the box.
Burnin' It Down
Jason Aldean
The appeal of Mr. Aldean escapes me. He’s a modern day Bubba. I listen to his music and hear nothing
charming, catchy, or ear worthy. I
listen to his voice and it’s so non-descript I want to go to sleep. I read his lyrics and it’s like he has a day
journal he jots thoughts down in and when he has so many words he decides he
has enough for a song, so he strums some chords on his guitar and mashes it all
up in there.
Yep. I don’t get
it.
This song could be any number of other country songs that
have recently come before it. It is
indistinguishable. It could be about
anything. It could be about
nothing. It doesn’t matter. It is simply
so mind-numbingly dull.
This isn’t music. It’s
wallpaper. The kind they sell at
Walmart.
One of the things I do like about him is that he isn’t so
overproduced that he comes off as a cookie cutter country star. However, that is exactly what he is packaged
as. He’s got the hat. And knows how to set his jaw just right.
He’s not all slicked up with the latest production
techniques; no, his deficiencies as a performer are all front and center,
despite the drum machines, and the layered treated vocals. For in the end, he’s nothing more than a frat
boy with a guitar who got lucky. More
and more I’m becoming convinced that modern country has nothing to do with
talent. It’s about obtaining a look,
maintaining a non-threatening, relatable demeanor, and, above all else… having
the right hat.
I like your hat, Mr. Aldean.
I like your hat.
Don't Tell 'Em
Jeremih Featuring
YG
Remember Snap!? ‘Rhythm
Is A Dancer’? That forms the basis for
Jeremih’s latest offering. It’s all
slowed down and stripped bear, but he uses just enough of it to soften me up
and get me all nostalgic.
Now, I assume Jeremih is about sixteen years old, because
most of this song plays like an adolescent boys’ wet dream.
There’s something charming about that.
Seems Jeremih’s got it bad for a girl, but he doesn’t
want the love of his life telling anybody that they is doing the nasty, hence
the title. Unfortunately for this girl,
the rhythm of her hips is the only thing she has of value to offer him. Or, at least it’s all Jeremih’s interested
in. Yeah… she’s not so much a human
being as a hot hole.
And you know what?
I would be fine with this song.
It’s harmless enough. But then YG
comes in and porns it up big time, kind of ruining the simple summer love /
horny boy scenario that Jeremih had going.
The Jeremih part of the song? Adolescent.
The rap by YG? Way too
adult. So much so, that it causes the
sweet tension that Jeremih has established and the whole thing collapses in on
itself.
Does she really sample a Wynonna Judd song, here? She sure do.
It is subtle, but listen to that intro and you know
exactly what I am talking about. ‘No One
On This Earth’ is a classic. ‘This Is
How We Do’? Not so much.
Perry’s rap is fine (as in just okay), as is the chorus
and the rest of the song on this sluggish fest. And while the video is visually stunning, ‘This’
suffers from the same problem as the rest of her ‘Prism’ CD; a case of style
minus substance and heart, polished to a high sheen.
Sure, she gets in a couple of great lines, and granted,
when it comes to Perry we aren’t exactly expecting Sondheim, but somewhere
along the way the originality and zest that she brought to the pop scene in her
early days has gone missing.
In its place? Product. Competent product.
Oh, and kudos to whoever came up with “Mariah
Carey-Okey”. Best moment in the song.
Black Widow
Iggy Azalea
Featuring Rita Ora
As pop/rap songs go, this is nothing new. I like the toy piano. However, this particular melodic swagger is
now textbook stuff, with ‘Widow’ bringing little new to the table.
Azalea is harmless enough and her raps come off as rather
cute, in an old school, brat rap kind of way.
It’s Rita Ora who anchors this sucker and continues to be
something of a pop revelation. Her
‘Never Let You Down’ is among the best songs of the year. ‘Never’ is nothing much either (great
production). It’s Ora’s vocals that
place it in the upper tier, a feat she accomplishes once more with ‘Widow’.
‘Black Widow’
is just a’right. But Rita Ora? She’s the real deal.
All About That
Bass
Meghan Trainor
I defy anyone to hate this thing. Yeah, it’s a novelty song, and they typically
suck balls, but ‘Bass’s message is so amazingly positive, delivered in such a
clever manner, and so incredibly needed in this plastic surgery / youth /
perfect body obsessed culture – you cannot listen to this thing without a smile
as broad has a buxom backside breaking out across your face.
It’s fifties kitsch.
It’s bubblegum brat rap. It’s pop
with a calypso beat. If John Waters
wrote music instead of directing and writing films, this is the kind of thing
he would come up with.
So, let’s all celebrate “bringing booty back”.
Now, I realize that novelty songs wear out their welcome
pretty quickly. But something tells me
this is going to be on a lot of people’s best of the year lists come
December. It’s infectious. And check out that video! It’s a total winner.
And speaking of big butts…
Anaconda
Nicki Minaj
“Oh, my gosh… look at her butt.”
This is sort of a darker sided version of ‘All About That Bass’. Same topic - only not very empowering at all.
Seems the faceless male protagonist with the titular
beastie is dead set against doing it unless his woman got big buns.
The rest of the song is a thug fairy tale of sort, where
this ghetto Cinderella ‘s Prince Charming is a big time drug dealer. She spends all her days high on “some dumb
shit”, buying designer goods while waiting around to hop on her man’s ‘Anaconda’.
But wait, she also knows this dude named Michael and he ‘slangs
cocaine’. He also won’t put it to no
skinny-assed girl, so our heroine fits his bill, too.
Ummm… that’s about it.
So Nicki is undeniably talented and this profanity laced
bit of self-misogyny would seem unworthy of her talents. But that is my perspective, as someone who
thinks she has the ability to save rap from itself. Unfortunately, here, she is simply choosing
to go with the status quo, playing the same game the males in rap play – you
know, the one where women are only valued for their physical attributes and
what they bring to the bedroom. That
world where drugs and bling are essential to life.
Musically, ‘Anaconda’ is much more interesting than what
her male counterparts bring to the arena, even with the rather old school
chorus as shouted by the male MC. So, props for that; we’ve come to expect
nothing else from Ms. Minaj. But that
said…
Nicki? You better
than this, hon.
Bang Bang
Jessie J, Arianna
Grande, and Nicki Minaj
Hmmm. Sounds like
someone said, “Remember that time P!nk and Xtina and Lil’ Kim and that other
girl got together and did a remake of ‘Lady
Marmalade’? Yeah, let’s do something
like that again.
And somebody else said, “Oh, but that song is so played
out. How about something from the
80’s. A classic sound? Oh, I know… how about we reinvent The Pointer
Sisters? You know, in a P!nk and Xtina
and Lil’ Kim and that other girl doing ‘Lady Marmalade’ kind of way?”
And ‘Bang Bang’ was born.
The vocal runs are the same. The clash of the titans atmosphere is, too,
with everyone trying to out sing each other.
And if you close your eyes, you can almost imagine The Pointer Sisters
doing a more mature, albeit laid back version of this song; it’s as if it was
tailor made for them.
“Mmm hmmm. Sounds
like a hit to me,” said some lame ass record executive.
Sounds like a bit of a souped up, bloated mess to
me.
Catchy?
Probably.
But then so are STDs.
Believe
Irina
A rather underwhelming dance offering from Irina
Shapiro. Her vocals come off as
flavorless as pre-chewed gum. The song
itself is pleasant enough, but offers nothing to distinguish it from the run of
the mill. I am normally all for stuff
like this, but ‘Believe’ has me doubting a whole lot.
Hot Boy
Bobby Shmurda
Jailhouse yard sirens and static with a click beat open
up this one. It is currently the buzz
track of the late summer, even though it’s actually from 2013. The actual title? ‘Hot N-Word’, and yes… it is another one of
those horribly lazy tracks that use the menace of that word in order to obtain
cred while repeating it and the words ‘shawty’
and ‘bitch’ as filler when needed. I guess that is a good stand-in for actual style.
It’s a shame, because Bobby Shmurda actually has some
talent. ‘Hot N-Word’ actually
demonstrates quite a bit of skill and a smidgeon of originality. It feels highly authentic, as in fresh off
the streets, even though the song itself is pretty standard rap crap, as in:
he’s shot people, is familiar with numerous slang words for various guns, is
gun and revenge obsessed, been selling crack since the 5th grade,
would take the money he made selling crack to buy crack… ummm, yeah, you know
the drill.
Based on how Shmurda looks, he’s probably never actually
done crack (his teeth so white and pretty), so I’m thinking this is all a
marketing gimmick. But, much like the
music itself, that kind of corporate manipulation doesn’t matter.
The thing that has people tuning in is the dance craze
this song has kicked off, ‘The Schmoney ’, which, to be honest, doesn’t appear
all that new to me, but Bobby has enough charisma to make people think so…
so... good for him? In the vid he’s
dranking juice and smoking something.
Umm… how old is he? (He’s 20 years old.)
I guess this represents a sort of culture, you know, when
you are bereft of one. I guess this is a
way to make a living. I guess this is a great
way to serve as a role model for youth – and keeping in mind the going-ons in
Ferguson, Missouri, that really should matter a whole lot more than it
currently does.
(The community may have turned on old Bill Cosby because
of what he said… but that doesn’t mean he wasn’t right.)
And that is why ‘Hot N-Word’ ultimately makes me very
sad, because it’s part of a bigger picture; one which makes me even sadder.
As for Schmurda?
I have a feeling this is a one-off by an artist we will
never hear from again, except as a featured artist on some Drake and Chris
Brown singles. He sounds destined to
self-destruct. But before that happens, some
label (Epic) will sign him and make a bank roll off of him, for sure.
I don’t see him as something long term.
You know, unlike the aftermath that ‘Hot N-Word’ and
songs of its ilk leave in their wake.
Dirt
Florida Georgia
Line
Man! There are a
lot of words to this song.
‘Dirt’ is a rather sincere effort on the part of the FGL
boys to do an actual country song. I
would say it is a cut above what they have brought to the table in the
past. No, it’s not original. No, there isn’t a hook to be found
anywhere. But there are all those words;
words hung on a literary device that works well. And they bring to mind images of a simpler
time, a sweeter time, a time that doesn’t really exist except on reruns of ‘Friday
Night Lights’ or ‘The Andy Griffith Show”.
And then there is that lovely, lovely steel guitar.
And that lovely, lovely steel guitar is the reason ‘Dirt’
gets a passing mark from yours truly.
I’m a sucker when it comes to rewriting personal
histories and waxing nostalgic for things that never existed.
And horribly sentimental when it comes to the sweet,
sweet sound of a wistful steel guitar.
Sigh.
I Don't Dance
Lee Brice
Lee Brice looks like a douche.
He wears his trucker cap backwards, so that stupid window
frames his forehead and that plastic strap with the little nodules so you can
fit it to your head is right in front. Damn,
I hate that look.
But, shucks, goll darn it, dag nab it… I must be a fool
in love, because I can’t listen to this song without big old tears welling up
like some stupid, saucer-eyed hound dog.
Yep. This is some
highly effective sappy music. Brice’s
stance is that of a tough man who has never known love before – never allowed
himself the prize. He don’t dance, but
he is head over heels, and therefore, willing to do anything just to be with
the love of his life.
And then the steel guitar kicks in and… I am lost.
I don’t know if Mr. Brice is the genuine article or a
marvel of manipulation. My critical
filter is shot when it comes to this one, so I am just gonna go lay on the
floor and bawl like a big old baby. A big old baby who is terribly, horribly, hopelessly in
love.