Happy Femme Fatale
day! Britney Spears
‘ highly anticipated new album drops today and to celebrate, BritBrit recorded a performance of three numbers over the weekend to air on “Good Morning America.” And all I can say is … how sad. These performances are only a smidge above the infamous “Gimme More” debacle of a few years back. Not only does Britney’s dancing seem terribly stilted, but she’s obviously not singing even a little. And I’m sorry, but the costumes just aren’t doing anything for her body—which would look totally hot just a little more covered up. At least the sets, lights, and costumes look cool?
Two more numbers after the jump. Keep reading »
“I recognized the psalmist gift in her performance. Yet she sang out, ‘I kissed a girl, and I liked it,’ while thousands joined her. One part of my heart soared . . . the other part broke for the thousands of hungry souls being fed something that didn’t nourish their spirit, but fed their flesh.”
—Katy Perry‘s mom, preacher Mary Perry Hudson, explains how she felt seeing her daughter perform her first hit single, “I Kissed a Girl.” This is a snippet from the memoir proposal Mary’s been shopping around to publishers which she says will not be “Christian proselytizing or a Katy Perry tell-all.” [NY Post]
After the jump, read how Mary felt about seeing her daughter in a skimpy costume for the first time. Keep reading »
On Friday night, Britney Spears surprised the patrons at Rain nightclub in Las Vegas by performing three songs off her dropping-tomorrow album, Femme Fatale. For one number, she donned this black latex bodysuit with flashing red lights around the boobs. This might have thrilled in the early 2000s, but with Lady Gaga’s fireworks spewing bra and Katy Perry’s whipped cream spraying version, we think BritBrit needs to step up her boulder holder selections. Keep reading »
I can remember where I was the first time I heard The Strokes’ debut, Is This It. It was the summer of 2001, and I’d just procured a fake ID in Times Square. I felt hugely relieved when I handed it to the bouncer at a graffiti-covered Lower East Side bar and he didn’t rip it in half. The energy of the album perfectly encapsulated the moment—pure, effervescent, gritty fun undercut with just a dose of disillusionment. I don’t know if The Strokes will ever be able to recapture the magic of that album, but I will give them a chance every time they release a new one. With Angles—their first album in five years—the boys have returned to their original sound. Or at least to the extent you can when you’re older and presumably wiser.