I know it may seem like I do this Boyz II Men shtick to be funny, but that’s mostly because the reality is too grim to face. My life is one that is centered around checking if the online Boyz II Men store has opened because it has been coming soon for months now and so I am starting to think that coming soon really means hahahahaha white girl. This is where I lose my patience because if manic depressive hipsters can put together an Etsy store dedicated to screen printing Sylvia Plath’s face on oven mitts, then surely these guys can take a break from pretending they’re Stevie Wonder and provide their 11 fans with some satisfaction.
All I want is a t-shirt. Preferably in black and maybe with a design where my face is superimposed on all of their microphones, so it looks like we’re making out. Oh, and they’re not allowed to sell it to anyone else but me. Out of my caravan of good ideas, this one surprisingly ranks as one of the least insane while simultaneously being the most impossible. However, I should note that my concept of insanity is probably skewed.
Either way, Boyz II Men is touring. I know, it sounded weird to me at first too. But whatever, I’m going. I have to. Even if I am 90% sure that it’s some sort of glitch or elaborate prank put on by all of the friends I don’t have because they just love me that much. At this point, the only thing keeping me hanging on is the fact that over half the venues are at state fairs and casinos. That is the kind of authenticity that only a 21 year old musical group, whose greatest success involves Lisa Turtle being in one of their music videos, can generate.
The show is in June (or Joon, I guess if we’re trying to stay consistent with Augast) of 2010 in Bremerton, WA. So, who wants to carpool?
For about 15 seconds, everything seems normal until you realize that it’s a tranny trick of epic proportions. Of course, instead of discovering that those implants come with bonus fries, there’s a scale of graduated horror upon realizing that children are constructing their own visual harem.
At about 1:31, a shirtless boy taking the place of Tyson Beckford appears and that’s when I begin to think this isn’t ok. Many of the comments urge others to flag the video, which I agree is unsettling, but that’s really just code for ‘This just gave me a boner that could end famine. Remove the video and please save me from myself.’
*Update: YouTube keeps removing the video since apparently no one is capable of playing it cool. So I’ve hosted my own copy, which means I had to take time away from cursing myself for liking Matchbox Twenty and deal with numbers. I’ll hate you forever, YouTube.
Remember when Mariah Carey went on TRL a few years ago and confirmed everyone’s suspicions that she was, in fact, completely insane? Well, she’s doing it again, but since TRL was canceled (go figure the one time I pray, I actually get results), she has to resort to using her new perfume ad as a conduit.
If I were still a fan I might let it slide that her wig is crooked and that the left side of her face could compete in the Special Olympics, but Mariah officially stopped caring once the 90s ended and for that, she will always be my Y2K.
I remember having her Butterfly album, playing it on my Sony CD Boom Box and then trying to figure out how to play “My All” on repeat so I could pretend that Ricky Martin would come in to my room, compliment my beanie baby collection and proceed to please me in all of the ways I never knew I needed. But, as Glitter taught us, dreams only really come true when they are based on the very loosest perception of reality and in this case, the idea of a non-gay Ricky Martin is fairly grounded by comparison.
Music is important to me, and I know I am a complete douche for saying that because it implies that I wear a beret everywhere I go and/or have a meaningful story to tell about how the Dave Matthews Band changed my life. Thankfully, neither is the case, but my point still stands. I’ve never thought of myself as someone who was into music, because I just assumed that everyone listens to Smash Mouth for the simple fact that they’re part of the 90s, or believes that Phil Collins is like, legitimately talented (don’t laugh). I remember my epiphany occurred when I told my boyfriend about Morrissey’s surprisingly large Latino fan base, and he replied with, “Who is Morrissey?”
So anyway, this week I’m highlighting some of my favorite cover songs. I don’t think I’ve ever listened to a cover song I didn’t like (aside from a cover of Billy Joel’s “We Didn’t Start the Fire” to which I say: you can’t make bread out of dog shit), and while it’s hard to only pick a few, I tried my very best to find as many as I could.
I liked Justin Timberlake back when he had those lame frosted tips and was pretending not to bang Britney Spears. I can take or leave Future Sex/Love Sounds as a whole, but maybe I would be more enthusiastic if T.I. had come in to play the Ukulele on a few tracks, like Melanie Valera does in her version of “My Love”. I also suggest watching the video because Melanie has a really hot chap stick lesbian look going for her.
Cocoon takes a song that has forever been ruined by Rush Hour 3, and turns it into soft melody that could move you to tears. It will lull you into a calm, dream-like state, and best of all, it won’t remind you of Chris Tucker.
Ok, I can’t say that I like this more than the original, because Boyz II Men is my own personal Mecca. However, it did make me think a bit more about this song that I used to reserve as my cool down after I was done belting “On Bended Knee” . The thing about Boyz II Men, is that all of their songs have a template that essentially reads, “Don’t leave me, let’s make love instead.” Jens Lekman turns this into, “I love you, I hate when we fight, let’s have some brie with sun dried tomatoes.”
It turns out I don’t hate JoJo’s music, I just hate when she is singing it. Listening to Daniel Rossen (of Grizzly Bear) sing “Too Little Too Late” is bizzare (especially when he says “players”), but you would never know that it was originally done by a 13 year old with cornrows, which means that it is good.
I owe at least part of my body to Britney Spears, because without “Toxic”, I would be left with one uninspiring workout playlist. Yael Naim’s version doesn’t have the energy of the original, but that’s actually a good thing because as it turns out, it is the ideal song to listen to during sex.
I love cover songs because they add meaning that was otherwise lost on me with the original. For instance, I would listen to the Pixies “Mr Grieves” and be like, “Damn, Frank Black sounds fucking awesome”, and then I heard TV on the Radio’s version, and was like “Damn, that’s fucking deep”.
Naturally, I was thrilled when I heard Samamidon’s rendition of “Head Over Heels”, which was popularized by Tears For Fears. Besides being know as the two guys with killer hair, Tears For Fears produced “Everybody Wants to Rule the World” which is in every 80s movie ever, but I think “Head Over Heels” is better. Samamidon’s version is a bit Kermit-esque, but in a way that will make you ache more than Rainbow Connection (Office fans: Andy’s version is better).
Duke it out amongst yourselves to figure out which one is superior. Just don’t decide based on the video because I mean…there’s a chimpanzee wearing a Red Sox jersey, Orthodox Jew playing drums and a Dave Coulier look alike in a leather jacket beating on a keyboard like it owes him money. No contest.
