Commissioned Writing #1

I was asked by a friend of mine to write a scathing review of some L.A. band called Love You Long Time. My friend is lucky; I hate their music too.

Here’s my review.

You know, the phrase “ironic hipster scenester bandwagon for unoriginal, uninspired white suburbanites” is thrown around a lot these days…

No, wait. This all needs context.

VH1 has done more to hinder creativity in the past 6 years than MTV has done in the past 25. The show I Love the 80’s is what happens when you completely run out of good ideas or just lack the mental dexterity to come up with better ones. Nobody genuinely loves the 80’s nearly as much as they love referencing shit from that era. Why? Because it’s ironic. Giant, feathered Farrah Fawcett hair and baggy leggings had the shelf life of bologna back then, back when that shit was actually supposed to be popular.

I don’t know if it’s this sense of hopelessness or Bush’s Reaganomics Part Deux shit-hurricane we just barely survived but people have decided to pine for “simpler” times, so they turned back to their 80’s childhood. After they sift through 8 thrift stores worth of old garbage and realize, “hey, remember how shitty and ugly these clothes were? We thought they were so cool back then” some genius (and they really are genius) realized the only effective way to rock that shit was to rock it ironically. That’s fine if you don’t mind your life becoming one big joke like you’re supposed to jump out in front of your friends waving jazz hands going “Ta-daaa!”

(While I’m on the subject, fuck you Seth McFarlane. Your cartoons are nothing more than a bunch of references to G.I. Joe and The Breakfast Club. Go marry your voice which you’re so fucking in love with).

The interesting thing about this 80’s revival crap (which just smacks of “listen to your inner child; what’s he saying?”) is that it actually keeps time. If 3 years passes in the real world, you need only dig through 3 less layers in a Salvation Army box to be fashionable. It is now 1991. Enter: Love You Long Time (original name: Me Put Pee-Pee in Your Coke)

Now here’s a band that’s the end result of Naughty By Nature throwing up on an electroclash Kelly Bundy. Nothing quite like copying, whoops, re-inventing, period music. It’s fucking period music! Which is fine if you like half-assed old school hip-hop. They can’t compare to my band Slow Drag Cakewalk. We take it past old school all the way back to first school with our ragtime piano jams circa the 1900’s (while in black face). Each show ends with us pouring a 40 for a fallen homie Scott Joplin.

Ok. The keytar. Here’s what I have to say about the keytar. It’s funny for about 2 seconds, but their songs are substantially longer than that. If it wasn’t one big joke and they genuinely liked the sound it made, they could have at least been original by jerry-rigging a Casio/duct tape keytar knock off instead of spending weeks asking every music store and garage sale in L.A. if they carried one of the gayest instruments ever invented. But it’s ok to be gay. It’s ironic.

These guys need to rock-and-roll the fuck out of Irony Town and board the Talent train heading for Why-Anyone-Outside-Your-Insulated-Faux-1991-Wigger-Scene-Should-Give-A-Shitville.

Look, if you sincerely like this kind of stuff, fine. If this music appeals to you or you simply think I’m a bitter, humorless dick who is just jealous, I’m cool with that. But remember: just because you like something does not prevent it from being objectively retarded. I would know. I like the movie Bio-Dome. I can’t wait to see what band apes it in 5 more years.