Been a while since I went to a live "rock" concert- this is fergie, solo, no word on whether she'll wear the "pants"- and jesus ****, the sound is just atrocious. Way too louid, distorted, bass heavy, no top end. A band named "ruby", I think, is playing now, and it's just excrutiating...ferg hits the stage in about an hour, but I'm not sure I can make it. Lot's of MILFs, wg teenage daughters in tow, moms younger than me- but nobody really knows how to ROCK (ruby's lead singer just said he needed "clappage" for this one and launched into a song w/ a riff stolen from joiurney's "separate ways"). Free drinks here in the VIP section, so thayt's something... ...Posted from my crackberry...
"Facebook" just got bigger applause than "myspace", and if someone does that upside down "hook 'em" gesture again...I just stuffed a rolled up piece of napkin in my one good ear...
Dude, you're at a Fergie concert. (i.e. you're a 15-year-old girl and I want to **** you thoroughly in your **** until **** ******** ***** *** **** and the **** crows "*** ******* ***".
Please tell me you're chaperoning your daughter and her friends. What are you doing at a Fergie "concert"?
...And fergie hits the stage, as I hit my 4th absolute citron and tonic..."Get ready...." Which I'm pretty sure I've heard before... ...My daughter's 5, and "prefers bach", so, uhm...no.
I happened to see a band called "Sugarland" on Leno the other night. It was the worst I have seen yet. They made Shakira sound like Aretha Franklin. It was unbelievably horrid. I almost started a thread about it but I just couldn't..
Apparently, big girls don't cry...I actually kinda liked that song. Not sure how it went diwn with the "chullos".
we're done now- during barracuda, the woman next me kept going off about how much she loved the pretenders...at one point, i'm pretty sure i heard ferg say bin laden was osamaliscious. maybe we should move this to the d&d...
I'm hoping someone hacked into Basso's account and is posting this. That would be the only explanation.
My 15-year-old brother is living with me while our parents are moving, and he has all of their music. They are simply atrocious. No talent to speak of, and they do the cherry pop-country thing that Shania started, but even worse.
that's what i'm saying, and the woman next to insisted it was by the pretenders, when i told her it was heart, and i remembered when it was a hit the first time, she just nodded condescendingly, and turned away...
http://www.nytimes.com/2007/06/23/a...8c0dd32a49b57c&ei=5088&partner=rssnyt&emc=rss one more reason to hate the times- [rquoter]Singing, Dancing, Stamina: The Work of Pop Stardom By KELEFA SANNEH Published: June 23, 2007 “Would you love me if I didn’t work out, or I didn’t change my natural hair?” It was Thursday night at Roseland Ballroom, and Stacy Ferguson — the pop star better known as Fergie — was singing those questions to the tune of “Zoom,” the old Commodores slow jam. In the recorded version of “All That I Got (The Make Up Song),” Fergie’s Black Eyed Peas band mate will.i.am answers in the rhyming affirmative: “I’m all in the mix/And I’m all into you, without the lipstick.” And at Roseland, people in the crowd responded with cheers. Fergie was going all out, putting on a sensational hourlong show that was, by turns, amusing (did she just call herself “Fergie-Ferg” again?), confusing (why are her dancers suddenly dressed like aliens?) and deeply satisfying. Maybe that’s why her questions seemed so strange: she has made herself a star by being stronger, brasher, tougher, sillier and more assiduous than her competition. If she didn’t work out — if she didn’t work hard — then Stacy Ferguson would never have become Fergie. Or Fergie-Ferg. Or Fergalicious. Or whatever. Earlier in her career, Fergie spent time on television (“Kids Incorporated”), on stages (with the girl group Wild Orchid) and on drugs (crystal meth). Then she joined the Black Eyed Peas, improbably turning an irritating alt-rap group into a wildly successful (and still irritating) pop act. Even so, she was something of an underdog when she released her solo debut, “The Dutchess” (A&M), in September. Some people compared her unfavorably to Gwen Stefani, whose solo debut had sold more than 300,000 copies in its first week; Fergie’s did barely half that. But “The Dutchess” has been a smash, sending each of its first four singles into the top three on Billboard’s Hot 100 charts. (By comparison, Ms. Stefani’s two solo albums have yielded only two Top Three hits.) Her current hit is “Big Girls Don’t Cry,” and she delivers the ludicrous lyrics — “I’m gonna miss you like a child misses their blanket/I’ve got to get a move on with my life” — with such nutty conviction that even a hard-core scoffer might eventually be converted. (Take it from one who knows.) She makes the ridiculous seem sublime, and isn’t that precisely what pop stars are supposed to do? Thursday’s show was part of a national club tour sponsored by Verizon, which is distributing tickets to fans who jump through some cellphone-related hoops. She took the stage after a remarkably awkward fashion show promoting Candie’s clothes, starring fans who had won a contest. (As they tottered across the stage, perhaps a few of them were pondering the meaning of “won.”) In fact, the whole concert had the slick, hyped-up feel of a commercial; Fergie referred to her khaki-wearing dancers as “cholos,” but they looked more like extras from an old Gap ad. While some stars can make any item of clothing look sexy, even scandalous, Fergie has the opposite skill: on her, a micro-mini schoolgirl’s skirt and a midriff-bearing top look like functional athletic gear. During “Clumsy,” one of the album’s best and fizziest tracks, she did a knock-kneed dance to match the chorus, which samples Little Richard’s recording of “The Girl Can’t Help It”; her version of feminine coyness looked more like a parody. Oh, right: she can sing better than most dancing pop stars, in a strong and brassy (if shrill) voice. And she can rap better than most singing pop stars. And on Thursday night, she proved she had more stamina than her fans, who started to file out after her impressive run through “Fergalicious,” which climaxed with an explosion of Verizon-red confetti. Many of them rushed back to the stage, lured by the sweet-and-sour strains of “Finally,” a bombastic ballad that may one day conquer radio, too. No doubt some detractors remain, stubborn folks who would prefer that a singer not turn Bob Marley’s “No Woman No Cry” into a thinly veiled pot-smoking anthem called “Mary Jane Shoes.” But when you’re faced with a pop star who is able (and, more impressive, willing) to sing Heart’s “Barracuda” while saluting her imaginary “homeboy” Shrek, turning one-handed cartwheels and lavishing attention on the stage monitor as if she were expecting it to tip her, one thing becomes blindingly clear: resistance is futile.[/rquoter]
