Punk’s alive and the gates to Bangs’s Promised Land are open once again.
I drew the line at coprophilia.
Is this what happens when porn goes mainstream? It winds up in your music collection.
If Nicki Minaj wasn’t appearing to simultaneously appeal to primary school children and your lap dance-loving dad, she could be a role model for rebellion with her penchant for swearing like her breath depended on it. She sounds hardcore. She looks I-Don’t-Even-Wanna-Know-What-Core.
Ryan Schreiber should be, if not ashamed, then more than a little embarrassed at the moment. Calling someone an asshole for raising a middle finger to a Super Bowl camera when you run a website and a music festival that has no problem promoting songs about rape, misogyny, and homophobia is empty and pathetic.
Sex, drugs, more sex, more drugs, each song details another night of Bacchanalian excess with no redemption in sight. Are you ready to party?
Wild Flag’s debut album has taken women all the way to the top and proves they can write an album as uninspired, predictable, and shallow as any man.
There are a lot of people out there looking for pictures of scary clowns and Rihanna in bondage.
You don’t have to work for them. You don’t have to write for them.