Lady Gaga naked -- almost

I haven't subscribed to Rolling Stone in years -- it seemed too messy, scattered, lost. Trying to please too many people, via all the wrong ways. But I bought the last coupla issues with Bob Dylan and Green Day, and they were damn entertaining, lotta nice writing. (Anyone see the Sasha Grey story?) Unlike my pal Stephanie Hayes, I'm pretty over Lady Gaga. But I'm thinking of going out and buying the latest ish, too. The Hot List is usually entertaining, if totally off-target. Plus there's another saucy snap of Gaga, and, well, I'm a big fan of bubbles. New issue on stands now. Here's a peek. 

BLOG BATTLE! "Achtung" vs. "Unforgettable"

Like most U2 albums, the new No Line on the Horizon will inspire great debate — and a few bar fights. But most everyone will agree it’s not their best. So which U2 album is tops? Stuck in the ’80s hosts Sean Daly and Steve Spears have been battling about this for years. Spears picks The Unforgettable Fire from 1984...or right before Bono shaved his mullet. Daly claims that 1991’s Achtung Baby is 12 tracks of brutally painful, pop-smart perfection.

Why Achtung Baby Rules
1. EVEN BETTER THAN THE OLD THING Bono called it “the sound of four men chopping down The Joshua Tree.” The dark, disorienting Achtung Baby, an electro-popping concept album about love and all its ghastly shadows, proved that U2 could totally implode its signature sound and be the best band in the world — again.

2. TAKE NOTES, BOYS I was 21 years old, a junior at Syracuse University, when I first heard Who’s Gonna Ride Your Wild Horses and Tryin’ to Throw Your Arms Around the World. And while the songs didn’t help me pick up women, they did teach how to act if I ever did.

3. ONE “Did I ask too much / More than a lot / You gave me nothing / Now it’s all I got.” One is U2’s calling card, their legacy, the most brutally honest song about love’s cracks and fissures you’ll ever hear on the radio. And yet, people still pick it as their wedding song.

To read Steve's Unforgettable prose, go HERE.

BLOG BATTLE! Sean & Steve's Love-o-rama!

Hey, baby, how you doin'? Mmm-mmm, you're lookin' fine tonight, girl. Welcome to Chateau Seany, where all your dreams come true. Why don't you sit next to me, lemme rub your shoulders, take the stress away. Yeah, that's it, that's it, sit back, relax and -- oh, hey, get up, get up, I'm not kidding, you're sitting on one of my vintage Hulk comics. Jeez, not cool, not cool at all. They're mint, okay?.....No biggie, no biggie, aww yeah, we're good, we're good now. So where were we, baby? Can I pour you a drink? It's Colt 45, chilled just right. If it's okay with Billy Dee, it's okay with me. Heh heh. That's it, drink up. Mmmm, yeah. I like your foamy beer mustache, baby. It's sexy, thick, malt-liquory.

Hey, how about we put some music on? I made a lil' Valentine's Day mix for you, 15 sweet soulful party starters. My friend Spearsy, he think he's so cool. He made a mix, too. You can check it out later for a few laughs. I told him he doesn't know what he's talking about when it comes to setting the romantic mood, getting down with date night. Spandau Ballet? Please. That's why he's home alone, watching Red Dawn in his tightie-whities. And that's why I'm here with you, my sweet foamy princess. So lemme take your glass. Lemme press play. And you just enjoy the floor show. 'Cause all my shirts come with seven buttons, baby, if you know whattamean. Take it away, Otis...

Seans Supa Seduction Playlist

BLOG BATTLE! Bon vs. Brian!

WHO'S THE ULTIMATE AC/DC FRONTMAN?

BON SCOTT VS. BRIAN JOHNSON!

With AC/DC steamrolling into Tampa on Sunday, Stuck in the '80s guru Steve Spears and I sat down for a scholarly debate over who is AC/DC's ultimate frontman. I took Scott; Spears opted for Johnson. Now listen: We both agree that the late singer and his uber-replacement are the only men loud, brash and hatter-mad enough to stand up to a rocket-boosted Angus Young guitar solo. And we also agree that Bon, who drank himself to death at the age of 33, and Brian, who took over in 1980, have made the Aussie band the obvious choice for greatest hard-rock outfit of all time.

Thus, there is no easy answer; there is only rock.

After you're done reading my lush prose in defense of Bon Scott, please sashay over to Spearsville and read his passionate defense of Brian Johnson. Oi! Oi! Oi!

All Hail BON SCOTT!
1. In 28 years, Brian Johnson has made one great album with AC/DC; in only six years, Bon Scott made three. Although Johnson's debut with the crew, 1980's Back in Black, is hard to beat, Scott's brief reign with AC/DC was punctuated by a trio of unforgettables: 1976's High Voltage and Dirty Deeds Done Dirt Cheap (two in one year!) and 1979's life-affirming Highway to Hell. Johnson's time with the band is littered with exceptional party hits but mediocre albums. Scott, whose heart, voice and fate were anchored to the poor-boy-blues, rarely wasted a track.

2. When I was 17, I spent the summer as a foreign exchange student in Norway. Yep, total Long Duk Dong action. My host family was anchored by my new "sister" Trine, an oft-topless teen with an intense passion for tanning outside my bedroom window. ("Mama no!") Anyhoo...Trine had a boyfriend (I think his name was Fruita) who loved AC/DC. So as a gift, she knitted him a spectacular Norwegian sweater, the front of which read “Bon Scott R.I.P.” There was even a trickle of blood dripping off the "P." Let me tell you something: No one’s making a Brian Johnson sweater. Why?

3. Because Bon Scott died. And not from something sensible like a disease or a plane crash. His cause was listed as “death by misadventure.” I hate to be crass, but that’s the coolest bleepin’ thing I’ve ever heard. Booze, partying, dying in a car outside a pub. Brian Johnson's bars-and-strip-clubs persona has been vital to the band's prolonged success. But he's alive. So no sweater.

4. Brian Johnson knows one speed: the full-throttle rebellion of bad-boy rock 'n' roll. Great. I love it. i do. But Scott, who somehow made bagpipes sound cool on It’s a Long Way to the Top (If You Wanna Rock 'n' Roll), was a complex, mysterious musician, almost to an unsettling degree. His finest moment as a singer was not a fast song (although he cooked on Girls Got Rhythm and more), but the last-call despair of the brutal Ride On. Eat your heart out, Muddy Waters.

5. When Bon Scott died, Young brothers Angus and Malcolm went searching for a new singer. They didn't want to take AC/DC in a new direction. They wanted their friend and their band back. And so the closest thing to Bon's snarled, scraped plea was Brian Johnson's horny screech. With all due respect, Bon was the original, Brian was a copy, albeit a very good one.

Mr. Spears will see you now.

BLOG BATTLE! Beyonce vs. Janet!

For most of the world, today is Beyonce Day, as Jay-Z's hotter half releases her third solo album, the double-disc I Am...Sasha Fierce. Ms. Knowles breaks down the release into soft (If I Were a Boy, LISTEN) 'n' sassy (Single Ladies, LISTEN), the latter represented by her club-banging alter ego, Sasha Fierce. With ample amounts of gush, froth and hullabaloo -- and maybe just a smidge of foofaraw -- I hereby declare Beyonce the Ultimate Entertainer...

...but basically just to tick off '80s apologist Steve Spears, who never fails to respond to my Beyonce love with a Pavlovian "WHAT ABOUT JANET JACKSON?!" Yep, things are getting ugly at the SPT, as old Spearsy just busted out his awkward "Nasty Boy" dance (nice Zubaz, dude!) and challenged me to an old-fashioned blog battle. Beyonce vs. Janet, for the title of Ultimate Entertainer! Feel free to play along at home...

Herewith, 3 Reasons Why Beyonce Beats Janet in Every Way (not counting JJ's awkward Good Times years, which would just be playing dirty)

1) I meet a lot of famous folks, and lemme tell you this: 99-percent of celebrities have giant heads and little bodies. Except for Miss 1 Percent, Beyonce, who is larger than life, especially those superheroic thighs. Kablammo! Janet Jackson, on the other hand, could get dunked on by a garden gnome.

2) Janet coos; Beyonce sings. Jackson has been busting out the same militaristic march-march-thrust dance since the Reagan administration; Knowles causes glorious seismic shifts with Aileyesque undulations and her Crazy in Love glute getdown. There is none shimmier.

3) In a day and age when class is rare and crass rules, Beyonce conducts herself with grace and mystery. Janet, on the other hand, causes a stir when she wears a bra. She's always showing it off. That's gonna be really awkward and creepy when she's 42. Oh wait...

For Spearsy's rebuttal, which is no doubt randy and entirely nipular, go HERE.

Who's more annoying? '60s vs. '80s!

Let's play a little game of "Who's more annoying," shall we? This week's battle: '60s hippies vs. '80s apologists! In other words, a flock of Deadheads vs. A Flock of Seagulls.

As both a Bob Dylan sycophant and co-host of the Stuck in the '80s podcast, I may not be the best judge for this week's throwdown. In fact, as most would agree, I'm doubly annoying.

However, I can say that both hippies and '80s freaks are unreasonably, cultishly insistent that their fave decade was the greatest time in the history of time, a span of magic when a true national hero (Peter Fonda/Duckie) led them to a glorious revolution of fashion (tie-dye shirts/Chess King zippers), unification (Woodstock/Live Aid) and mind-altering experiences (LSD/Manimal).

The two sides despise each other's music (protest songs hoping to change the world/The Curly Shuffle) and question each other's motives (smoke lots of pot/get top score in Galaga). And yet, they're more alike than they know (reeeaaally bad hair).

Perhaps the best way to settle this scrum will be at two epic upcoming extravaganzas at Ruth Eckerd Hall in Clearwater. Each should be a hoot in its own right. Just don't wear your legwarmers on the wrong night. That could get ugly. Well, uglier.

Hippiefest includes Jack Bruce of Cream; the Turtles, featuring Flo and Eddie; Melanie; Badfinger, featuring Joey Molland; Eric Burdon and the Animals; Jonathan Edwards; and a Hippie Marketplace. The show starts at 5 p.m. this Saturday at Ruth Eckerd Hall, 1111 N McMullen-Booth Road, Clearwater. $48.50-$68.50. (727) 791-7400.

The '80s Regeneration Tour features ABC; the Romantics; A Flock of Seagulls; Missing Persons; and Naked Eyes. It begins at 7 p.m. Aug. 30, also at Ruth Eckerd Hall. $33-$38.

Political Throwdown: John Rich vs. Ludacris

A few years ago, during my Washington Post daze, I spent a weekend hanging out with country upstarts Big & Rich. They were good, smart dudes, trying to launch the Muzik Mafia movement, a kitchen-sink collective blending country, rap, rock, you name it. (Remember Save a Horse, Ride a Cowboy?)They've been hit or miss since, especially John Rich, who's spread himself thin by producing other people's records like a madman. To be honest, B&R never struck me as raging Republicans. In fact, as we talked in their tour bus, I pegged them for fun-lovin' liberals. But we'll get back to that in a second...

I'm on the record for loving Ludacris, the wise-cracking rapper/actor with the quick lips, killer rhymes and trademark beats. In a recent Rolling Stone interview, Barack Obama called Luda (aka Chris Bridges) one of his fave artists, complimenting him as a smart businessman. It was a nice shout-out, for both sides of the friendship.

And now this...

When I heard Ludacris and John Rich had recorded songs hyping Obama and John McCain, respectively, I came in thinking one would be smart, the other sappy. I tried to keep my own politics out of it, 'cause that's what I'm supposed to do. But let's be honest, that's easier said than done. So when I heard the songs, I was...confused, wrong, enlightened. Below you'll find links for both songs, and you can say whatever you like. But lemme just add this: In my mind, Rich's Raisin' McCain has a certain charm to it. It's a straight-up rock song, not sappy in the slightest. It talks about the candidate's POW tenure and his ride to the White House, and as a campaign tune, it has great cheeky 'tude. With McCain by his side, Rich is set to debut the song in Panama City, Fla., later today.

As for Ludacris, his Politics (Obama Is Here) is a mean, clunky abomination, calling Hillary Clinton a "b----" and saying even worse things about McCain. ("Paralyzed"?!) Wow, this is how Ludacris repays Obama's shout-out? Making things worse for the Senator from Illinois, the rapper even references the Rolling Stone piece (right after hyping his own greatness). Not surprisingly, the Obama camp is slamming Politics with great urgency. I bet Ludacris pulls that sucker back real soon.

Anyway, it's your turn to weigh in. So here you go...

LISTEN TO: Raisin' McCain by John Rich

LISTEN TO: Politics as Usual by Ludacris

BLOG BATTLE! Cyndi vs. the B-52s

You haven't lived until you've seen '80s-stuck sucker Steve Spears do his undulating boogie to the B-52s' Love Shack. It's both horrifying yet strangely seductive. Well, the first time he does it. Spearsy insists on constantly forcing his B-52s infatuation on others. It's become a real problem. Sometimes in the cafeteria, he'll sneak up behind coworkers and scream "Rock lobster!" He thinks it's funny, even when they splatter gravy on their work tie. This must stop. Now.

Spearsy just challenged me to an old-fashioned blog battle featuring his beloved B-52s vs. the incandescent Cyndi Lauper, both of whom play the True Colors extravaganza tonight at Clearwater's Ruth Eckerd Hall (INFO). He, of course, thinks Fred & Co. should headline. I think Cyndi has more than earned the right to rule. And here's why.

TOP 3 REASONS CYNDI SHOULD HEADLINE:

3. The 54-year-old still indulges in her so-unusual shtick. But beneath all of that eye-rolling cheekiness is one of the great (and greatly underrated) voices in the pop canon, a little-girl-lost quaver with big-girl repercussions. Check out her 2003 cover of Walk on By.

2. Even though she spent way too much time with Captain Lou Albano, we're still talking about Lauper in reverent tones. Rowdy Roddy Piper should be so lucky.

1. With the exception of the Village People's YMCA and the Divinyls I Touch Myself, there's never been such a widely accepted song of sexual expression as Lauper’s self-congratulatory She Bop. You can't stop messing with your "danger zone" -- and neither can Cyndi. God bless us, every one.

To read Spearsy's re-BUTT-al, go HERE. Just watch out for your work tie.

BLOG BATTLE! Off the Wall vs. Thriller

Sure, super-sized Stuck in the '80s stud Steve Spears and I look scarily alike. Two muscle-ripped dudes with fashion-forward hair and prodigious cheez-eating skills. And yes, people think we get along all the time and agree on everything.

But if you look beyond the Funyun crumbs and killer moves with the ladies, you'll see Steve and I are actually worlds apart. For instance, he's a dumbass. Just the other day, as we fed fried shrimp to each other at Long John Silver's, he said "Thriller is Michael Jackson's best album." In response, I (1) recoiled in horror (2) spit tartar sauce in his eye and (3) shouted demonstratively, "What? Are you some kind of monster? I feel like I don't even know you anymore!"

I then proceeded to tell my good buddy why 1979's Off the Wall is actually the better Michael Jackson album. Not that Thriller isn't a classic; it very much is. In fact, when the 25th anniversary of Thriller comes out Tuesday -- complete with full remastering of the original, B-sides and full-length vids of all your faves -- I'll no doubt play Wanna Be Startin' Somethin' 25 times then moonwalk to the bathroom.

But that doesn't make it better than Off the Wall. And this is what I told Steve Spears as he wept softly, nodded his head and bogarted the remaining hush puppies:

THREE REASONS WHY "OFF THE WALL" IS BETTER THAN "THRILLER":

1) Michael Jackson's two best songs are on Off the Wall. It's not even close. There are scant musical moments as life-affirming fun and danceably orgasmic as Don't Stop 'Til You Get Enough. Jesus, is that good or what? Plus those echoey fills ("I'm melting now") are the stuff of sugar-smacked goodness. And then there's Rock With You -- are you hearing me? Rock With You, people!!! -- the most perfect 3:23 minutes in the pop music canon. "And when the groove is dead and gone / You know that loooooooove survives / So we can rooooooock forever!" Am I the only one with chills?

2) Off the Wall was the last Michael Jackson album you could listen to without feeling creepy, guilty, icky. He had yet to cross the Michael Jackson Line. He had yet to order the Elephant Man's bones or give Macaulay Culkin curious noogies. By the time he hit Thriller, MJ was on the bullet train to Never Land. Sign No. 1 that his judgment was impaired: The Girl Is Mine.

3) Simply: She's Out of My Life. (Down goes Spears! Down goes Spears!) Not only is it his best ballad, but before he did God knows what to his nose, his face, his soul, MJ could sing like nobody's business. That vocal is the very definition of powerhouse.  "To think for two years she was here / And I took her for granted / I was sooooo cavalier." There is no greater fuel for a Dark Night of the Soul than this song. And yes, finally...the crying at the end, that tear-choked "liiiiiife." Tito, get me a tissue.

If you so desire, you can amble over to Stuck in the '80s and see Steve's rebuttal. But c'mon, we're the party people, night and day, and living crazy, that's the only way. So I think we know who won this Blog Battle.

BLOG BATTLE: 80s Christmas songs

OK, people, Steve Spears from Stuck in the 80s has challenged me to a blog battle! He's waxing poetic on Xmas tunes over on his blog, so check it out and see who you like(coughpleasepickmecough). I know I'm new around these parts, but don’t hold back. I can take your shots. Plus, there’s a really nice place to cry in the third stall of the ladies room.  Here we go!

The top five Christmas Songs of the 80s

5. Santa Baby – Madonna
I’m going to get crap for this, I know.  She sings the whole song in a squeaky Jersey accent. But shortly after releasing this, she squeezed into crushed velvet and got FIERCE as Breathless Mahoney in Dick Tracy. Santa Baby reminds me of the platinum pin-up Madonna, and helps me forget the heavily biceped track suit yogi we have now. And if you can’t have a little fun with, essentially, PROPOSITIONING SANTA to sweep your chimney, you have a stick somewhere indelicate.

4. Winter Wonderland – Eurythmics
Annie Lennox is like no other, and her pipes make this song endure. Listen next time you’re getting fat in the food court or slaving over which dancing snowman to pick in Hallmark. You may hear it. The nice thing about this song is, she holds back. It’s like a tease. And you get the feeling she just doesn’t care, cuz dang it, she’s mellow and has cocoa is not leaving this f-n fireplace. It’s singable, it’s fun, and it’s full of echos and synth and clapping and clanking that make it expressly 80s-tastic.

3. Grandma Got Run Over By A Reindeer – Elmo & Patsy
You hate this song. You’ve heard it a million times. But for me, this song is special. This marks the moment, as a wee small lass freezing my towhead off in Ohio, that I realized I could say things that were weird and twisted and dark, and PEOPLE WOULD LAUGH! It was a stunning discovery. Grandma getting roadkilled by a renegade beast? Sick! I love it!  This song led me down a very snarky path, folks, and for that, I’m grateful.

2. Last Christmas – Wham!
I heart Wham! I love to do the kick-snap dance and sing Wake Me Up Before You Go Go at karaoke. Wham! is cheesy and stupid, and George Michael looked surfer boy hot in the 80s. And I love the bratty lyrics in this song. “Last Christmas, I gave you my heart, but the very next day, you gave it away. This year, to save me from tears, I'll give it to someone special.”  It’s all, NANNY NANNY BOO BOO, pptbbtthh!  Plus, two of my favorite artists remade this song later – Jimmy Eat World, and my one-time crush, Darren Hayes from Savage Garden (who, incidentally, also turned out to like boys. Dang.)

1. Please Come Home For Christmas – Pat Benatar
I love Pat, so much. Her voice is one of my all-time favorites. In 2005, I went to see her and Neil Giraldo in concert at Ruth Eckerd Hall. They looked ready to pick up the kids from soccer. She wore a navy blazer, a permed bob and sensible shoes. Her husband donned track pants and some hot New Balances. But as much as I missed the green eyeliner and lace, Pat came through on the vocals. Her voice is still nearly perfect, and this song is a shining example. You can hear the passion, people! Love IS a battlefield!

BONUS! The worst Christmas song of the 80s

Do They Know It’s Christmas? – Band Aid
Look, I’m all about raising money for starving kids in Ethiopia, or whatever. And no doubt, Bob Geldof assembled some crack artists to wail on this Frankenstein creation. But have you seen the lyrics? This is perhaps the most smug, entitled song ever. “Do they know it’s Christmas?” Around half of Ethiopia practices Islam, so, like, they might not care. “There won't be snow in Africa this Christmastime.” YAY! SNOW BLOWS! And then for the kicker: “And the Christmas bells that ring there are the clanging chimes of doom. Tonight, thank God it’s them instead of you.”  Wow.  That’s the holiday spirit.