... when you "discovered" some magical, wonderful, insatiable artist like, eight years ago, and then suddenly they're famous. No, seriously,
Lady GaGa, I'm happy for you. But A) release your fucking soon to be fawesome album already, and B) play the shit you played at the club and stop letting the record bitches over process it. You know what, I'm not even like a "music aficionado" or anything --- I HEARD YOUR SONG ON MYSPACE --- but I'm mad that the economy chooses to favor you in a well-deserved limelight that's two minutes too late. And when I can barely afford to buy shit from the breakfast cart on 47th and Lex in the morning.
You know what, whatever. Here's the source of my wrath: the recent, toned-down-yet-still-pleasant sounds of
the Virgins, and their "latest"....
PS: I still love you, Virgins...
PPS: Love the Robyn Bird shout-out for the
"Private Affair" video. (Yes, I know who Robin Byrd is. Don't pretend like you don't.)
1 comment:
Isn't it the worst when someone on your blogroll posts the exact same video as you on the exact same day? I jest. But, in all seriousness, you'll be appalled to hear that they used "Rich Girls" in this week's episode of The Hills.
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