Gnarls Barkley Wants You

My raging, hyberbolic hyperactive throbbingness has since calmed, and I'm STILL convinced that Gnarls Barkley's St. Elsewhere is holding strong as album of the year. Gnarls -- aka mad scientist Danger Mouse and crooning rapper Cee-Lo --is slowly getting bigger and buzzier, with first single Crazy lodging in people's brains like that evil cockroach from The Wrath of Khan. Gnarls indulges in sonic swatches of rock, rap, soul, pop, blues, techno and gospel, all of which float around in wild swirls of found sounds, symphonic silliness and Saturday morning boinks! and bloops! The album's running theme is insanity, madness, the pleasures and pains of losing your marbles, the loose hinge connecting the real and the surreal. For all of Cee-Lo's manic charms, however, there's no mistaking St. Elsewhere's true stud. Danger Mouse, aka music prodigy Brian Burton, is the most inventive newcomer in pop music. He first made a name for himself by blending the Beatles' White Album and rapper Jay-Z's Black Album. The result? The Grey Album, a head-spinning genre smoosh that kick-started the "mash-up" craze. Besides Crazy, do yourself a favor and sample these Gnarly goodies on iTunes: (1) Go-Go Gadget Gospel is a showoff spectacular, built on three different rhythm sections, including a cheesy horn line that sounds borrowed from bad-TV classic Battle of the Network Stars; the song is punctuated by Cee-Lo's triumphant chorus of "I'm free!" (free from the asylum, presumably). (2) Danger Mouse's New Wave roots show on a swinging cover of the Violent Femmes' Gone Daddy Gone. (3) And as a perfect example of the album's puckishly menacing vibe, the bittersweet spiritual Smiley Faces sounds like Stevie Wonder as a robotic reverend fighting the blues. Check it out, kids...

Dude Screams Like a Lady

Besides almost coming to blows with Dale of Chip 'n' Dale fame -- let's just say it was a misunderstanding between me and a bitter dude in a vermin get-up -- my most memorable "park" moment from last week's trip to Disney World was braving the Rockin' Rollercoaster at MGM Studios. The Tower of Terror is killer stuff, sure. But the Rockin' Rollercoaster has a real nasty bite to it; might even be more thrilling than Busch Gardens' straight-drop SheikRa. RR is an insanely fast in-the-darker in which you "cruise" in a "limo" and "follow Aerosmith" through "a city at night" and "try not to notice the Latina girl crying next to you who is totally freaking you out. Seriously, kid, no mas tears." Sounds like Space Mountain, you say? How can anything associated with Aerosmith be cool, you snort? Dude, isn't this a music blog, you harrumph? Well, you do start out in a recording studio, and watch Joe Perry do some really bad acting. And the music is blaring as your limo PEELS OUT from a standstill, hitting 60 mph in 2.8 seconds. You hurtle through the darkness straight into a loop, then a corkscrew, then again and again, all the while Steven Tyler is wailing away in your ear. It's killer stuff, some needed edge at the Happiest Place on Earth. As for my Chipmunk Skirmish, I'll save that story for later. After all, American Idol is over, and I'm gonna need something to talk about.

When Hasselhoff Cries...

...we all cry.

Especially the good people at Grecian Formula, whose sales will plummet now that Taylor "Gray Guy" Hicks is your Season 5 American Idol champ. Apparently it's cool too look like a middle-aged Home Depot salesman. This, of course, is tremendous news for me.

(Seriously, what was up with Hasselhoff? Were those happy tears or sad ones?)

Last night's AI finale was kind of like if a prom broke out at the Super Bowl. Kids dressed up like grown-ups, major music acts, the whole world watching and me once again obsessed with someone's dirty pillows (welcome home, Melissa McGhee, welcome home).

Okay, what was more bizarre? Puck 'n' Pickler or Meat 'n' McPhee? Did you see Mr. Loaf prowling hungrily around the stage, leering at Ms. Runner-Up as if she she had a pork chop tied around her neck?

Cheers to Ryan Seacrest for sneaking in one more joke about Simon Cowell's man bosoms. Jeers to Toni Braxton for inappropriately grinding on Hicks during In the Ghetto.

Cheers to Prince for swallowing his pride and providing a cool finish. Jeers to Clay Aiken for that awkward-stage goth look.

And finally...I just got back from four days in Disney World, which allowed me to fully comprehend Kat McPhee's success. The Great Unwashed, it turns out, love 10-times-a-day "shows" that feature blatantly cardboard phone-it-in warblers who give no soul to what they're singing. Answer your phone, Kat: "The Festival of the Lion King" needs a new warthog.

Only 285 days until American Idol Season 6!!!

Guy Gets In the Ring

Loyal bloggist Guy trekked to the Big Apple to catch last night's Guns N' Roses show. Here's his unexpurgated report on Axl's dreads, Izzy's cameo and Sebastian Bach's return. Ticket to see Guns n' Roses at the Hammerstein Ballroom: $63 Long Island Iced Tea: $10 Being called a motherf

Todd Bridges In the House!

Or did I just dream that?

No, no, I'm pretty sure I saw Willis lurking in the American Idol audience last night, leering at the Unsinkable Kat McPhee as she titillated the foot-fetish community by tearing off her pumps.

Re Elliott Yamin: I'm gonna miss the Amish Leprechaun, mainly because my chances to use the words "Amish Leprechaun" are coming to an end.

But also, in a rather sweet final twist, I found new respect for Elliott last night. After all, did you see that "first pitch" he threw at the welcome-home baseball game? Impressive arm, especially when you switch to the Devil Rays game during commercials. Plus I'm a sucker for all that Mom-son stuff.

And finally...the Forever Fiancee says that all the people who voted for Elliott (Claymates, Moms, etc.) would NEVER vote for that curvaceous femme fatale Kat McPhee. By that logic, Taylor Hicks is your 2005 Idol champ. Sounds good to me.

Milk, Milk, Lemonade...

...around the corner, fudge is made.

My daughter loves that song.

In related news: American Idol.

I'd have to say my favorite part was when Taylor Hicks, straining thru Bruce Springsteen's Dancing in the Dark, fired an imaginary gun ("This gun's for hire") and then PUT THE IMAGINARY GUN BACK IN ITS HOLSTER! That Taylor, he's a responsible deputy.

Runner-Up Best Moment: Kat McPhee's Over the Rainbow, which was akin to talent night at Mons Venus. The buzz is that Boobarella will battle Taylor in the final. I don't know: Elliott is totally working that Claymate vote.

Speaking of Elliott...how uncomfortable was his chat with Clive Davis? It was like something from The Godfather. I thought the Amish Leprechaun was going to get whacked.

And finally...went to a rowdy birthday/karaoke party last night. Lotta pressure on the music dude to perform. You had to sing whatever the karaoke machine gave you. My cut? Smells Like Teen Spirit. I decided on an Axl/Cobain/Wayne Newton blend. I was sucking wind by the first chorus, sweat pouring off my giant melon, my whiny voice hoarse from yelping umpteen "Hello"s.

My final score? 99 out of 100.

Rock 'n' roll, MFs.

Kenny or Kelly? Poison or Queensryche?

Good lord, there's a ton of crappy shows coming to Tampa Bay this summer. Il Divo? Rascal Flatts? Tim McGraw and Faith Hill making googly eyes at each other? (Someday I'll tell the story of Tim McGraw's fat, British tour manager trying to kick me out of the Richmond Coliseum.) Of course, there are some killer shows, too; that Robert Randolph/Drive-By Truckers/Black Crowes date is gonna be an air-guitaring, beer-spilling marvel. Maybe a fistfight will break out. That'd be cool.

Madonna and Ozzfest are skipping us. No sign of Buffett yet. Looks like Pearl Jam is avoiding the entire state of Florida. Oh well.

Anyway, make my job easier and PICK THREE SHOWS you'd want to see. That way I can gauge what I can weasel out of.

I know loyal blogger P-Train is gonna sign up for Queensryche. After all, this is the Operation: Mindcrime II: The Sequel tour. How will it all end?

So many minds, so many crimes.

JUNE
6/2 Tim McGraw/Faith Hill -- St. Pete Times Forum
6/3 Rascal Flatts -- Ford Amphitheatre
6/10 Dwight Yoakam -- Jannus Landing
6/13 Buddy Guy’s Bluesfest -- Ruth Eckerd Hall
6/14 New Cars & Blondie -- Ruth Eckerd Hall
6/16 Il Divo -- Ford Amphitheatre
6/17 Sammy Hagar -- Ford Amphitheatre
6/21 Panic! At the Disco -- Jannus Landing
6/23 Vans Warped Tour -- Vinoy Waterfront Park
6/30 Al Green -- Ruth Eckerd Hall

JULY
7/1 Kelly Clarkson -- Ford Amphitheatre
7/1 Kenny Chesney -- Raymond James Stadium
7/7 Robert Randolph, Black Crowes, Drive-By Truckers - Ford Amp
7/11 Def Leppard/Journey -- Ford Amphitheatre
7/23 John Fogerty/Willie Nelson -- Ford Amphitheatre
7/25 Pink -- Jannus Landing

AUGUST
8/6 American Idols Live -- St. Pete Times Forum
8/9 Dave Matthews Band -- Ford Amphitheatre
8/10 Steely Dan -- Ford Amphitheatre
8/18 Melissa Etheridge -- Ruth Eckerd Hall
8/19 Poison -- St. Pete Times Forum
8/27 James Gang Rides Again -- Ruth Eckerd Hall
8/31 Queensryche -- Ruth Eckerd Hall

New Thom Yorke Album?

Any Radiohead fans hear about this? Just got this email from the PR dudes at Nasty Little Man. Had no idea. Check out the website. Very cool... THOM YORKE THE ERASER ALBUM OUT JULY 11 ON XL RECORDINGS Thom Yorke releases his album "The Eraser" July 11 on XL Recordings. "The Eraser" features nine new Thom Yorke tracks and was produced by Nigel Godrich. The track listing for the album is: the eraser analyse the clock black swan skip divided atoms for peace and it rained all night harrowdown hill cymbal rush For news updates on the album, or to sign up to the mailing list, go to www.theeraser.net

Songs for Mom?

Still haven't bought a Mother's Day present? Feeling guilty about last year's gift of Juicy Fruit and a pack of smokes? Then why not DEDICATE A SONG to your mother, your grandmother, your wife, that girl down the street who isn't sure if the baby is yours or not. Trust me, you'll feel great. Here are a few sweet Mommy songs to get you going: Bohemian Rhapsody -- Queen Mother -- Pink Floyd Mother -- the Police Mother's Little Helper -- the Rolling Stones Hey Mama -- Kanye West The Theme from Psycho -- Bernard Herrmann In tomorrow's St. Petersburg Times, I tell the harrowing story of my mother's love for Helen Reddy's You and Me Against the World -- and how she would enevelop me in her bosom for the entire 3 minutes, 11 seconds. At the song's gushy end, my mother would close her eyes and start wailing: "AND WHEN ONE OF US IS GONE! AND ONE OF US IS LEFT TO CARRY ON!" Crazy Mama Daly. Happy Mother's Day, Mom.

This Is My New Dylan Shirt

Cool, huh? Little wink-wink to Bob's infamous cycle spill. I dig it.

Anyway, I bought the shirt ($30) last night at the Dylan/Merle Haggard show at the USF Sun Dome in Tampa. It's an XXL, but in retrospect I should have gone with the XXXL. Let's be honest, I'm not getting any smaller.

Anyway, the show was great (here's my review, pounded out before deadline, so don't be too harsh on the tortured poetry). Dylan's set was perhaps the best I've ever seen him do:

1. Maggie's Farm
2. She Belongs To Me
3. Tweedle Dee & Tweedle Dum
4. Lay, Lady, Lay
5. Stuck Inside Of Mobile With The Memphis Blues Again
6. Love Sick
7. I'll Be Your Baby Tonight
8. Ballad Of A Thin Man
9. I Don't Believe You (She Acts Like We Never Have Met)
10. Cold Irons Bound
11. Girl From the North Country
12. Summer Days
(encore)
13. Like A Rolling Stone
14. All Along The Watchtower

Dylan isn't big on enunciating, of course, but he was pretty darn clear on classic wakeup-call Ballad of a Thin Man. "Something is happening here / But you don't know what it is / Do you, Mister Jones?"

Don't Cry for Bald Boy

Okay, didn't see that coming.

However, on Fox's white-hot morning show Good Day, Tampa Bay, I did predict that Daughtry was no longer a sure thing. Not saying I'm Nostradamus or anything, but still...

Daughtry fans, take heart: Your boy is no doubt signing a big fat record deal right now. All four of these final contestants will get deals. Too many people have been watching the show this season.

So now everyone is saying Taylor is a shoo-in, right?

Don't be so sure...

Because I'm a tremendous mo-ron, I didn't realize until, oh, say 5 minutes ago, that Elliott Yamin, the Amish Leprechaun, is totally getting all the Clay Aiken votes. Never underestimate the voting power of 49-year-old housewives. They like Elliott because he's (1) basically infirm, like a baby bird falling from a nest (2) nice and polite and earnest (3) has an old-fashioned singing style, like Johnny Mathis with vampire fangs.

That said, I have no idea who's voting for Kat McPhee -- other than Guy, who just wants to massage her dirty pillows.

Kat Gets Kut?

It has to be Kat McPhee getting bounced from American Idol Wednesday, right? After all, the only person who looked worse Tuesday was Priscilla Presley. Elvis' bride has had so much shoddy plastic surgery, she now looks like Julie Newmar left in the microwave too long. The tribute to the King was a particularly squirm-inducing affair, especially music-biz greaseball Tommy Mottola, who was staring so hungrily at McPhee, I thought his head was gonna explode. As for the other lowlights:

Taylor Hicks -- Why is Gray Guy always hunched over when he sings? Seriously, Soul Patrol has posture problems. If he ever performs a full concert, he's going to have scoliosis by the encore. That said, I'm getting a feeling he could win the whole thing.

Chris Daughtry -- Tough night for the Bald Wonder. Suspicious Minds was too soft; A Little Less Conversation was too boring (except for that comically tragic Axl Rose finish). This dude is no longer a sure thing.

Elliott Yamin -- Someone at AI Central loves the Amish Leprechaun. The judges were slobbering over him, even though he looked and sounded like a drunk CPA causing a disturbance at Applebee's karaoke night.

Kat McPhee -- She's hot and she can sing. But when she's off -- like Tuesday -- she's nothing less than an understudy for a Six Flags "Salute to American Rock 'n' Roll" show. Plus her fashion sense is lacking; her first outfit looked like something from the Cracker Barrel collection.

In all fairness, I haven't picked a single thing right this whole season.

So who's going home?

Gomez In Love

Whenever those cheeky Brit-poppers in Gomez release yet another great album -- a la the brand-new How We Operate -- I wonder why I don't listen to the quintet at least once a week. The truth is that I forget about Gomez for great chunks of time. But I blame that on me, not them. I'm fickle when it comes to love and Londoners. Gomez singer Ben Ottewell, one of three vocalists in the blues-jammy-trippy troupe, has the most distinctive voice in pop music; imagine if Winnie-the-Pooh were a sad rock star instead of a hungry cartoon bear. Or something like that. The average music fan best knows Gomez from their commericial- soundtracking work: They covered the Beatles' Getting Better for a Phillips ad (that was Ottewell's voice), and the jammy ska-pop rave-up Shot Shot was used in trailers for some crappy movie starring the Rock. When the Forever Fiancee and I finally hitch things up, we just might go with the crescendoing Gomez ballad We Haven't Turned Around as our "first dance" song. Of course, the track is almost 7 minutes long, and it might be about the apocalypse, but hey, at our wedding, anything goes. The BEST news about the new How We Operate is that the boys are once again dissecting love and loss in tight, hooked-out pop frameworks. In the past, the band could get a little political/abstract/lost. Here, however, the blokes simply want to get back on the radio. Ottewell is featured on most of the best songs, which may make this Gomez's finest album yet.

Anyway, if you're looking to do a little iTunes sampling, here's a Gomez 101 sample platter dating back to their 1998 debut:

1.) We Haven't Turned Around (from 1999's Liquid Skin)
2.) See the World (from 2006's How We Operate)
3.) Shot Shot (from 2002's In Our Gun)
4.) Make No Sound (from 1998's Bring It On)
5.) Ballad of Nice & Easy (from In Our Gun)
6.) Flight (a B-side from the We Haven't Turned Around single)
7.) 78 Stone Wobble (from Bring It On)
8.) Getting Better (from 2000's Abandoned Shopping Trolley Hotline)
9.) Tijuana Lady (from Bring It On)
10.) Girlshapedlovedrug (from How We Operate)

Worst Prom Song? Worst Prom Story?

It's prom season again. Let the fun and pig-blood-drenchings begin!

Because I was too busy trying to meet-and-greet my date's dirty pillows, I don't remember much of my prom.

I think it was held in a Sheraton (?) outside of Harrisburg, Pa. I know there was crummy band playing; buncha lugs from the high school. Can't for the life of me remember the song, though; might have been Take My Breath Away, but would the lugs sing that? Probably not.

Anyway, the "Stuck in the '80s" podcast crew is tackling all things prom next week. I imagine there will be a whole bunch of sob stories. I imagine I'll discuss taffeta dirty pillows.

Just curious: What was your prom theme/song?

Anybody get dumped on prom night?

Anybody get lucky?

Princess P: No More Tears

From New Orleans to American Idol: Talk about whiplash...

Five, maybe 10 years from now, when she's finally of legal drinking age and we have a brief fling in a Denver airport, Paris Bennett is going to be a star. She already has the voice, now she just needs to grow into it. (Didn't you feel kinda skeezy watching her bump that booty during Kiss?)

Oh well, at least Paris didn't cry...for once. Plus I love how she dumped her gum in Seacrest's hand. Seacrest looked aghast, like Howard Hughes trying to use a port-a-potty. Good stuff.

Idol now features the whitest bunch of singing stiffs since the Brady Bunch tried to cut a record. Daughtry has this trophy wrapped up, but Kat McPhee's soft-core on-her-knees routine was the savviest bit of audience manipulation since Pickler feigned squidly ignorance. Kat vs. Chris in the final. Gray Guy comes in third.

Then again...yesterday morning, I once again made a lousy prediction on a major FOX affiliate, predicting that Elliott "the Amish Leprechaun" Yamin would get bounced last night. Apparently, geek-embracing moms are keeping this yutz alive.

Final Scenes From New Orleans

NEW ORLEANS -- Monday afternoon, at Lafitte's Blacksmith Shop, the oldest bar in America (1772) and the best on Bourbon Street, four drunken, fratty tourists were playing the jukebox.

Songs by Guns N' Roses and Led Zeppelin were met with huzzahs and fist pumps.

Blondie's The Tide Is High?

Not so much.

Upon hearing the song, a young woman marched over to the machine and somehow turned it off. Maybe with a foot; maybe by pulling the plug.

There was silence...for a few seconds at least.

"You don't play that f