Yesterday, the puritans over in Wildwood passed a law that finally settles the age-old question, “What’s appropriate attire for the Wildwood Boardwalk?”
Those who strut the boards shoeless, shirtless or with pants below three inches from their hip will now be subject to a possible fine, maybe even 40 hours of community service. For those who don’t know, men and women are already prohibited from wearing bathing suits on the boardwalk unless covered by other clothing.
Ya know, because heaven forbid the impressionable eyeballs of our youth be subjected to the same thinly veiled adult genitalia on the boardwalk that they are just a few feet from over on the beach.
While it’s unclear how the exact amounts will be determined, the proposed fines would range anywhere between $25 to $100 for the first offense and $200 for subsequent offenses. I’m just guessing it’ll be something along the lines of $15 per bare foot, $50 per exposed ass cheek. Any number of exposed nipples clearly warrants community service.
Extra small cropped tops and coochie cutters with “DTF?” printed across them? Well, that’s still totally cool.
Way to class things up, Wildwood!
What’s goin’ on over there, Tricky? You saw this tour coming, and you couldn’t get your Visa act together, hunh? Well, we were pretty excited for your show this week, and we put it in the paper’s Philly Now calendar:
“Tricky put out two records in the ‘90s that were mind-blowing: 1995’s Maxinquaye and 1996’s Pre-Millenium Tension. Of course, he’d been an integral part of the groundbreaking Massive Attack until then, but these two LPs felt like achievements—complete, brilliant artistic statements. The 45-year-old Bristol, U.K., native’s a pretty odd duck, so it feels only appropriate that he made his big-screen debut in 1997’s The Fifth Element. But some of the weirdest dudes on earth have proven to be some of our most inspiring and game-changing musicians.
And with this brand new and fresh False Idols, Tricky says he found himself again. Luckily for us, it’s an incredibly strong LP, harkening back to those debut solo LPs, and reflects the Tricky Kid we’ve always known and loved. Sure, there’ve been some discs in his deep catalogue that weren’t homeruns, but the man’s a legit legend in the trip-hop world. His grimy, gravelly rumbles over blissed-out beats are one of a kind, and he has a real ear for tapping angelic young female vocalists to flesh out his visions—or night terrors, same diff. The fact that Philly’s one of his 10-date domestic tour destinations is truly celebration-worthy. Trip-hop fans rejoice, and get your asses to Union Transfer for a really memorable occasion.
8:30pm. $20. With Royal Canoe. Union Transfer, 1026 Spring Garden St. 215.232.2100. utphilly.com”
The show’s been moved back to October 1st. This came over from his publicist (and the man himself):
“Due to unforeseen US Visa issues preventing from him entering the country, Tricky is postponing his upcoming US tour dates in support of his new album False Idols. The rescheduled dates will take place in October, when Tricky is in the US to play Treasure Island Music Festival and Mountain Oasis Electronic Music Summit.
All tickets for the postponed June dates will be honored for re-scheduled dates in the same city (even if venue has changed). In the case that the re-scheduled date is not an option, refunds will be available at point of original ticket purchase.”
Addressing the issue, Tricky himself stated:
“I’m really sorry to have to tell you that I have to postpone the forthcoming US dates. It is a situation that is compeletely beyond my control due to a US Visa issue. All I can do is go through the proper channels and secure the right visa. I hope you’ll bear with me, and I’ll make sure that the rescheduled shows are worth the wait. All tickets will be honored for the re-scheduled dates.”
If you were within a 30 block radius of the Pennsylvania Convention Center at any point this weekend, chances are, you encountered some pretty interesting characters out on the street. There’s an even better chance that you were one of those characters and you were on your way to or from Wizard World’s annual Philadelphia Comic Con. Either way, here’s just a few of the many memorable sights the four-day event packed. And when I say many, I do mean many.
A little bee dropped this gem onto mah Facebooks earlier this week, and I wasn’t ready for this jelly. Oddly, “Bubble Butt” was far and away my favorite track on the mediocre sophomore follow-up, Free The Universe, a limp effort compared to the instant classic Guns Don’t Kill People … Lazers Do. Well, the fourth single just dropped from it, and it’s the album’s saving grace (Spin agrees): the Bruno Mars, Tyga and Mystic joint “Bubble Butt”—and it’s got a video. Holy hell, does it have a video.
And not surprisingly, they went with Eric Wareheim to helm this one. You got it: That’s Eric of the Tim & Eric duo. He’s responsible for the eye-bugging daggering-full video for “Pon de Floor,” too—now, two of the best videos in their video-heavy YouTube’s presence. Wareheim’s an Owl, guys! Diplo and Wareheim have one twisted, bugged out visionary partnership, and we are not mad.
I’d like to lift this from Stereogum’s Clare Lobenfeld: “The clip features three girls still riding the #seapunk wave, lackadaisically twerking for Tumblr until they’re confronted with a booty-popping she-giant of sorts. The result is bouquet of bountiful butts bouncing along to guest vocals from 2 Chainz, Bruno Mars, Tyga and Mystic. It is absolutely not safe for work, unless bethonged bottoms are OK in your office.” Which is funny, because I went around the office yesterday and tried to get as many people to watch it as possible.
Song of the summer contender!
My beautiful PW colleague, Anastasia Barbalios, likes when Twitter-literate stars post frequently on Twitter. I can, frankly, take it or leave it. Singer-singwriter Derek Webb, however, made it perfectly clear a while back that at least one of his favorite celebrities, the Roots’ omnipresent Ahmir “Questlove” Thompson, was riding his nerves like a Point Dume wave with those incessant tweets:
man, trying to follow @questlove again. SUCH a huge fan of his & the roots. but i almost need a whole separate feed just for him. whew.
Well, that 135-character screed cost the former vocalist-guitarist for the contemporary Christian rock crew Caedman’s Call his slot among Thompson’s 2.5 million-plus Twitter followers: The famously coiffed Root immediately blocked Webb from his feed, making the eclectic, Houston-based musician his first verified Twitter follower to be blocked, according to the Houston Chronicle. (Hey, make history however you can, brother Derek.)
But you know what? That was six days before Christmas. In 2011. Time to let bygones be bygones, especially since Webb has gone and recorded “#Unblokme”—with hashtag and all —an incredibly-catchy, soul-drenched plea to be brought back into Quest’s ever-expanding Twitterverse:
Dear Mr. Love/You gotta unblock me ’cause/I just gotta know what kind of taco you had for lunch.
C’mon, Ahmir—that’s funny, honey. And he may even mean it!
Webb’s either parodying or paying homage to Quest’s use of the ‘fropick in the “#Unblokme” video (below), but there’s no questioning his sincerity when he requests help from none other than the Late Night host who the Roots call boss, singing Jimmy, Jimmy, brother, can you help us order up one hoagie of forgiveness?
Be the bigger man, Quest. Bite into that forgiveness hoagie with gusto. Unblock the man already!
Once upon a time, I fell in love with Major Lazer and, by default, Diplo. But that feels like AGES ago. I had only been in Philadelphia for about six months when I moved to Northern Liberties, to Wildey Street just west of Front Street. The night before I moved in, I walked around with my new roommate and we strolled through a newly-finished Ghost Town that was the nascent Piazza at the time. There was not yet a Swift Half, a Fabric Horse, a PYT or any of the other businesses that rushed in. But what DID hit me like a ton of bricks that summer, was “Pon de Floor.” I vividly remember bringing Guns Don’t Kill People, Lazers Do down to our DVD player, our default CD player in the house, and spinning it for my roommate’s girlfriend and proclaiming (admittedly, with a beer buzz on) “This is going to be the song of the summer!” I twerked and twerked and twerked.
Turns out, I was pretty much right. That record, perhaps not coincidentally carrying the momentum built by the stunning success of a local-gone-to-Brooklyn’s debut, Santogold, became a massive success. “Hold the Line,” a collab with her and Mr. Lexx, was technically the first single. But Guns was full of sleeper classics: “Bruk Out” is a humble but bangin’ dark gem of a story about a stripper love affair, “When You Hear the Bassline” boldly introduces the album’s tones of the Caribbean and herb, “Mary Jane” employs killer snares and goofball good times for an irresistably high-enducing hit, and “Keep It Goin’ Louder” satisfies that nightclubbing, fist-pumping dancefloor banger you didn’t even realize the record needed.
Today, you can give a listen to the highly-anticipated and highly-awaited sophomore. However, things are different. First of all, the two primary co-conspirators that Diplo had in his charge for Guns are gone: Swith and Skerrit Bwoy have left (for creative and religious reasons). The 5.7 Pitchfork review that landed today isn’t terribly kind and yet sees hope in the highs and credits the lows with missteps in judgement. In are “Trinidad-born Jillionaire and Black Chiney’s Miami-via-Jamaica sound system member Walshy Fire,” plus a bazillion guests. See, the guests on the debut were just much more of a thing you had to hunt for in the liner notes. And they were way more obscure. These guests on Free the Universe, save for a few tracks, seem to be why we’re supposed to buy the record. But some of em’ just don’t work.
It’s pretty easy to get into the tracks we’ve already heard that feature big indie names: Amber from Dirty Projectors on the super-chill and vacation-y “Get Free,” and Ezra Koenig on the romantic “Jessica.” Meanwhile, there are a few downright near-catastrophes: the Peaches and Timberlee joint, “Scare Me,” could be so much better (love for Peaches but she doesn’t belong here), Shaggy and Wynter Gordon sounds like it could be a cool combo, but “Keep Cool” is not a success story, and neither is the garbage that was conjured up when they invited Wyclef Jean into the brotherhood of dancehall cool with the atrocious “Reach for the Stars.” And then there’s that obvious trend-grabbing on the dubsteppy and house-friendly “Jet Blue Jet,” which seems practically built to be remixed but not to stand on its own as an original track. Flux Pavillion’s moment, “Jah No Partial,” cashes in on the Skrillex craze, too; brutal ear pollution skronkshit. However, my clear favorite is the bizarre team-up of Bruno Mars, Tyga and Mystic on the immediately smile-creating “Bubble Butt.”
There isn’t a single song like “Pon de Floor,” the way it jumps out of speakers and heaphones and screams ‘You’ll never get tired of me!’ Diplo’s elevated status, due to the unbelievable success of Guns, may have allowed him to reach into his wallet and shell out for some big names, but he wasn’t able to capitalize on the underground infectiousness and energy that bursts forth from the collective’s debut effort. It actually seems to stand as a landmark for the Philadelphia producer’s climb to international acclaim. But this new one doesn’t do him any favors (or half of the guests at his employ). But I will twerk to “Bubble Butt” at the club if it comes on. Yes I will.
You may’ve heard about Jay-Z and Beyonce’s fifth wedding anniversary trip to Cuba and the ensuing mini-scandal brought on by two Republicans calling for an investigation into the legality of the trip. We know that tourism and traveling to the Communist island’s restricted for Americans, but why The First Couple of Hip-Hop are being questioned for their sponsored and planned-out trip is pretty weird. Then, this morning, on SoundCloud, Jay-Z unleased a friggen’ nasty response called “Open Letter” and It. Is. Sick.
And maybe it was Stacey Dash’s dumbass tweet that sent Jay over the edge (probably not). But Dash’s used her Twitter to express lame views in the past, including a Mitt Romney endorsement and other inane conservative tidbits in 140 characters or less (often with less-than-savory grammatical attention to detail, one of the many dangerous pitfalls of trying to communicate something serious via Tweets).
Here’s what she tweeted:
Here are some of they lyrics from Hova’s venomous track addressing many different kinds of haters:
“Politicians never did shit for me/ Except lie to me, distort history/ They wanna give me jail time and a fine– Fine, let me commit a real crime/ Obama said, ‘Chill, you’re going to get me impeached’/ You don’t need this shit anyway, chill with me on the beach,” and “I woulda moved the Nets to Brooklyn for free/ Except I made millions off you fucking dweebs/ I still own the building, I’m keeping my seats/ You buy that bullshit, you better keep your receipts.”
The Swizz Beats and Timbaland-produced track is pretty much straight-up fire. And the fact that it seems like he whipped it up in a matter of days is an even more impressive feat. Let’s hope it slays a thousands-strong crowd in Philly this summer with it if he decides to get on the mic at his Made In America festival on the Parkway.