Month: December 2020

It’s been just over a year since Chairlift’s Caroline Polachek released her debut album under her own name, Pang. One of the album’s singles, “So Hot You’re Hurting My Feelings,” became an instant fan favorite. So to spread a little cheer this season, the singer remixed the track to become a holiday tune.

While the instrumentals are the same, “So Cold You’re Hurting My Feelings” boasts some clever, wintry lyrics. “You know I live for the tinsel / But damn I miss you tonight,” she sings. Further ringing in the holiday season, Polachek switches up the song’s bridge from “Show me the banana” to “I’m a good girl, Santa.”

Polachek’s “So Cold You’re Hurting My Feelings” isn’t the only reworked song she’s shared lately. The singer recently announced a project of Pang remixes titled Standing At The Gate: Remix Collection, which is slated for an April release. So far, Polachek has previewed the upcoming LP with a George Clanton remix of “Hey Big Eyes,” an A.G. Cook rework of “So Hot You’re Hurting My Feelings,” a version of “Hit Me Where It Hurts” by Toro Y Moi, and a 10-minute-long version of her track “The Gate,” as well as a handful of others.

Watch Polachek sing “So Cold You’re Hurting My Feelings” above.

Standing At The Gate: Remix Collection is out 4/16 via Perpetual Novice. Pre-order it here.

Ever since breaking out in 2019 with her song “Big Ole Freak” (really late 2018, but it took a while to gain steam), Megan Thee Stallion has been both a sex symbol and a lightning rod for criticism about the unapologetically sexy image and lyrics. In a new interview with GQ about, among other things, the backlash against Cardi B and Megan’s runaway hit “WAP,” the Houston Hottie takes a stab at explaining why so many people — both men and women — are bothered by female rappers owning their sexuality.

“Some people just don’t know what to do when a woman is in control and taking ownership of her own body,” Meg hypothesizes. “I feel like for a long time men felt like they owned sex and now women are saying, ‘Hey, this is for me. I want pleasure. This is how I want it or don’t want it,’ it freaks men the hell out. It just comes from a place of fear and insecurity, like why would anyone be mad about my WAP? It belongs to me.” She certainly has a point and while even GQ‘s author Jonathan Heaf has a touch of trouble in the story with his very young daughter asking what a “WAP” is, Heaf also shows dodging such questions is just as easy as changing your Spotify password.

Elsewhere in the interview, Megan reveals her favorite Christmas song (Mariah Carey’s “All I Want For Christmas Is You,” naturally), her New Year’s resolutions for 2021 (“Eating healthy and maintaining my skincare regime”), and the main thing on her Christmas list, other than world peace and justice for all. “My wish would be for young women everywhere to have equal access to education and to know that they are amazing, valuable, and can accomplish whatever they put their minds to. I want all my hotties to know their power and be confident in themselves.”

You can check out the full interview here.

The PDC World Darts Championship is not a major event in the United States, although there are more and more folks each year that have learned to enjoy the pageantry and spectacle of The Darts. That is due to, in large part, the general lack of American talent at the highest level of darting competition.

Entering Tuesday morning’s action at the Alexandra Palace in London, no American had won a game past the preliminary round of the tournament since Darrin Young in 2010, marking a decade-long spell of general darts malaise. Enter Danny Baggish, the top American darts player who, yes, his name sounds like he should be Scottish or something, but I assure you he is full-blooded American, just ask the giant Chicago Bulls and San Francisco 49ers tattoos on his throwing arm.

Baggish stunned Damon Heta of Australia in the first round and came into Tuesday looking to break that spell against the No. 21 player in the tournament and a two-time world champion, Adrian Lewis. The end result was darting delight for the American, who rolled past Jackpot in a 3-1 win to become the first American to advance to the Round of 32 in over a decade. Baggish punished loose darts from Lewis early, who missed his first 11 attempts at doubles, rolling to a 2-0 set advantage in the first to three showdown.

Lewis would win the fourth set thanks to a sensational 127 checkout and then took the first two legs of the fourth, indicating the American’s dream run might be coming to an end.

However, Baggish saved his best work for last, dialing up the first Big Fish of the tournament, taking out 170 — the highest point total you can checkout on in darts — for his first leg of the fourth set.

He then got a needed break of throw on a 91 checkout, taking advantage once again of poor finishing from Lewis, before cruising to a low-pressure win in the final leg to stun the former world champion.

The atmosphere at the Ally Pally is far from what it normally is in the fanless world of 2020, but Baggish’s upset is massive for American darts and, while a second round win isn’t going to make the country darts crazy, if he can pluck off another win or two it might at least pique the interest of American sports fans who grew accustomed to midday sports during the pandemic and could flip over to DAZN for the darts for that fix now.

Hip-hop is a genre best-known in some circles for its depictions of excess and opulent displays of material wealth, but many of its most prominent figures are equally well-known within the culture and communities they represent for their noblesse oblige — especially during the holiday season.

When you grind from the bottom to mainstream success, there’s a certain expectation that you return to your origins and share the wealth once you’ve achieved the back half of your rags-to-riches narrative. Rappers say they love their respective cities, so it’s only right for them to show that love by allowing them to share in the spoils of your victories after they shared your struggles.

While many rappers are known to give back throughout the year, the holidays provide an especially opportune time to make their presence known in a material way that not only provides good PR but also concrete evidence of their generosity and a positive impact on their communities. Of the superstars that do give back, one of their favorite methods is the holiday toy drive, which provides the chance to be hands-on, becoming the Santa Claus figures they likely wish they had themselves.

While the toy drives are a long-established tradition among hip-hop, the crew that is most widely-recognized for it might be the Watts-established label Top Dawg Entertainment. Established in 2013, the drive is not only a day that allows the label to feed the community that fostered its development in the early days but also to show that community the results of its years of fierce support with a concert that plays like a mini-festival of local favorites.

Although Kendrick Lamar is the biggest star of the collective on mainstream radio, the big draw and closing act each year in Watts is local legend Jay Rock, who for the last two years closed out the show with triumphant renditions of his celebratory anthem, “Win.” Encouraging visitors to bring gifts, the annual Toy Drive uses the celebrity of its stars Ab-Soul, Kendrick, Schoolboy Q, and SZA to draw fans from far and wide, each bringing a present for a child who might not otherwise receive one.

Those fans might not otherwise ever set foot in the Nickerson Gardens housing project, content to simply hear about it on record. In drawing them to TDE’s ancestral home, the label gives those fans a chance to participate in the storytelling and see that the people of this community aren’t just props and extras in Jay Rock’s gangster narratives, but human beings who deserve compassion. Fans can watch as their love for their favorite artists becomes acts of kindness and charity for the people those artists love — and get to see guest stars like Travis Scott in the mix, as well.

Unfortunately, there won’t be a 2020 giveaway for obvious reasons. However, this year, another South Los Angeles star has risen to the occasion to pick up the slack. Compton’s Roddy Ricch took over his hometown’s local airport to host his own toy drive — one he took pride in boasting was done under rap media’s radar. This wasn’t just a photo-op for the 2020 Grammy-winning, 2021 Grammy-nominated rapper. After arriving in a helicopter, Roddy later told late-night host James Corden “we gave thousands and thousands of toys away in Compton.” He elaborated it was “important this year more than anything with how restricted things have been.”

Los Angeles radio DJ Hed noted a line nearly two miles long for the giveaway, which had been announced on short notice on Instagram but promoted — as things so often are in Compton — by word-of-mouth. As a child, I would pass the airport often on my way to church, enamored by the fact such a thing existed in my little overlooked, underappreciated, and often-deprecated pocket of the universe. While I marveled that my tiny little city had such a huge impact on the world at large — NWA and Dr. Dre were already huge stars most of my young life — I can only imagine how proud, fulfilled, and appreciative today’s young Comptonites felt, as one of their own handed out gifts to ensure that no one went wanting on Christmas.

Even those rappers who haven’t had the same level of material success are quick to show up for their communities. Brooklyn rapper Rowdy Rebel, whose breakout predated the recent drill wave by about five years, wasn’t able to enjoy the benefits of his success due to a 2014 conviction for gang activity alongside Bobby Shmurda and the other members of their GS9 crew. He was only recently released after serving a six-year sentence and will be on supervised release for some time.

That didn’t stop him from hosting a toy drive of his own at the Brooklyn Museum just days after walking out of prison and celebrating by going on a jewelry shopping spree. Ironically, many of the kids receiving presents from Rowdy’s drive are more likely to recognize the late Pop Smoke or his confederate Fivio Foreign than their street anthem predecessor. Yet, for Rowdy, his toy drive demonstrates his priorities; before ever releasing a new record to kick-start his stalled career, he ensured that kids would have presents under their trees on the 25th, despite having spent so many Christmases away from his own family and friends.

Other rappers who held giveaways this year have included Atlanta’s Gunna, Chicago’s Chance The Rapper and Twista, Houston’s Travis Scott, and Memphis’ Moneybagg Yo and NLE Choppa, among others. Last year, Cardi B gave away thousands of dollars in holiday gifts and likely stands to repeat the gesture this yearl. These acts of goodwill receive a fraction of the attention their peers’ criminal actions do; more mainstream news outlets report on the violent deaths of obscure up-and-coming artists than they do A-listers’ philanthropic efforts — and shame on those outlets for embracing the ethos of “if it bleeds, it leads” rather than the Christmas spirit of giving.

This hyperfocus on the violence and flash of the rapper lifestyle underlines the priorities and prejudices of the news media, as well as of the American public. There is far more interest in painting rappers as caricatures — ones that reaffirm negative stereotypes about Black men and women, especially when they originate from poor neighborhoods — than there is in depicting them as compassionate, empathetic people sharing their wealth with their old neighborhoods and people who have fewer means but who deserve just as much consideration.

Sure, they could give more. Sure, they could do so more often. But they didn’t create the systems that led to the plight of the less fortunate. And while fans hope that these stars will live up to their promises to support the hoods that supported them, there are no guarantees. That’s what makes these giveaways so meaningful to the kids who see themselves in their favorite rappers and aspire to follow in their footsteps. And that’s why these rappers deserve recognition when they do make efforts to remain committed to their home communities and true to their roots. Behind the glitz and glamor of rap life, there are still human beings who deserve to have their humanity recognized, just as they recognize the humanity of the people who’ve put them in the positions of privilege they now enjoy.

Some artists covered here are Warner Music artists. Uproxx is an independent subsidiary of Warner Music Group.

Kevin Feige’s revelations about Disney+’s Marvel shows (including his reaction to Chadwick Boseman’s final turn as Black Panther and, uh, Star-Lord in What If…?) keep on coming, and he’s also gone on record to talk about the upcoming She-Hulk. The series, one of many upcoming Disney+ MCU offerings, will star Orphan Black‘s Tatiana Maslany with a supporting turn from Mark Ruffalo as Bruce Banner.

Will She-Hulk be a lot of crash-boom-smash, though? Well, there should be enough of that to go around, but the show will stick with Jennifer Walters’ comic-book roots of smartass comedy. And as Feige revealed to Emmy Magazine (via Collider), the show won’t shy away from the lead character’s profession as attorney. Nope, this will actually be a legal comedy that will run 30 minutes per episode. In other words, it’s gonna get weird like WandaVision and take a superhero outside of the immediate mission to smash Chitauri and whatnot. And that’s refreshing.

When She-Hulk arrives (and we may very well see it in 2021), the tone of the series should carry plenty of wit, far beyond Captain America remarking upon people’s “language” just to plop a joke into what’s essentially a multi-hour action assault-on-the-senses in Age Of Ultron. In contrast, the Disney+ shows will be more focused on deep dives, and they won’t be afraid to get funky, like we’ve seen from WandaVision‘s 1950s-set sitcom vibes so far. With She-Hulk, though, we’ll see Jennifer Walters receive a blood transfusion from Bruce Banner (her cousin), which means that she’s gonna be a lot like Professor Hulk: analytical and sharp as a tack, but she can still smash like crazy because (as Kermit the Frog once said) it’s not easy being green.

The Beatles remain one of the world’s most popular bands despite breaking up 50 years ago, and most of their fans have one song from the group they can point to as their favorite. Whenever Paul McCartney is asked for his top Beatles tune, he gives an unexpected answer, and now he has told Apple Music’s Zane Lowe the reasoning behind the pick.

The song in question is “You Know My Name (Look Up The Number),” which was released as a B-side on the 1970 single “Let It Be,” features mostly repetitions of the song’s title, and is an overall silly affair. McCartney said:

“I always say, ‘You Know My Name (Look Up The Number),’ which is a zany little B-side that nobody knows, but we had such fun making it. It’s like a little comedy record, and I just remember the joy of making it. But there’s a lot of songs that I love of The Beatles. I think ‘Strawberry Fields’ is a great song, I think, ‘Hey Jude’ worked out great. I’ve got a lot of favorite songs. ‘Blackbird’ I love. ‘Eleanor Rigby’ I love.”

Lowe then asked what Beatles song McCartney has heard the most, and he replied, “I would say probably ‘Let It Be’ as a song. It’s the most ubiquitous. It sort of got everywhere.”

Watch a clip from the interview and listen to “You Know My Name (Look Up The Number)” below, and check out our own recent ranking of the best Beatles songs here.

The future of adidas basketball is going to be very interesting to watch after the apparel giant announced a new partnership with Jerry Lorenzo and his Fear of God label. Lorenzo will “drive the creative and business strategy” for adidas basketball, indicating that he is taking on a leadership role for the brand, which is a massive get given his influence in the world of streetwear and fashion. His Fear of God collaborations with Nike in recent years were massive successes, and adidas figures to capitalize on that further by having him direct their creative vision as a brand.

They will also partner to launch Fear of God Athletics, with both shoes and apparel that will be particularly focused in the basketball space.

“This is a role that is unprecedented in its very nature and nuanced attribution that it defies all titles and traditional definitions. This is a fearless move where shared vision and conviction are at the heart of the accretion of two brands shaping sports and culture, with the purpose to truly multiply our nuanced strengths to revolutionize the performance basketball industry forever.” says Jerry Lorenzo of Fear of God. “adidas and Fear of God share the same dream for the future of basketball, on and beyond the court, and we look forward to changing the face of the industry through a new model that will unfold before us in the coming years.”

It’s a massive partnership that figures to only further solidify adidas’ place as a leader as a hoops brand, bringing them someone who is not just in tune with the culture of sneakers, streetwear, and fashion, but is a driving force behind where it goes.

Though Monday night’s passing of the Save Our Stages Act in the new stimulus bill means independent venues across the country are able to secure funding until they reopen, it will likely be several more months before live music returns. Radiohead‘s Jonny Greenwood has been reflecting on this fact and, like fans everywhere, the guitarist hopes the band is able to come together and make new music soon.

In a holiday letter penned to fans, Greenwood addressed how he’s been coping in recent months and said he’s looking forward to a time when Radiohead can get together once again:

“Usually this letter is a happy gambol through a year of touring. Or recording. Or something musical. But there’s nothing to talk about this year, except absences. It’s been a year of music (and friendships) exclusively down wires — and I hope we don’t get too used to that. […] Right now, I just feel this: I hope you are safe and well and not too scared, or too bored. I also hope that somehow we can be part of making music for you soon, and that the pleasure of making music, and hearing music, whether in a gig, concert hall, church, or at home with friends – is not forgotten in this desolate year.”

The hopes of new music arrives jut a few months after another Radiohead member announced the band is planning to shift focus to the members’ solo careers. Speaking in an interview, guitarist Ed O’Brien said, “We’re talking about stuff, but for the foreseeable future everyone is doing their own thing. When it feels right to plug back into Radiohead, then we will.”

Read Greenwood’s full letter here.

Netflix’s History of Swear Words trailer begins the way that all trailers should: with Nicolas Cage screaming “f*ck” at the top of his lungs. It’s actually more like “ffffffffffffff********ccccccccccccccccckkkkkkkkkkkk,” but that requires too many asterisks. Not that you should watch History of Swear Words with your kids.

The series explores the origins of six curses: “f*ck,” “sh*t,” “bitch,” “d*ck,” “p*ssy” and “damn.” F*ck yeah. Cage is the host, while special guests include Joel Kim Booster, DeRay Davis, Open Mike Eagle, Nikki Glaser, Patti Harrison, London Hughes, Jim Jefferies, Zainab Johnson, Nick Offerman, Sarah Silverman, Baron Vaughn, and Isiah Whitlock Jr, as well as linguists and professors. It’s like Drunk History but about swearing (more like D*ck History?) with genuinely interesting insights. Did you know “f*ck” has an acronymic etymology? It stands for Fornication Under Consent of the King. I suddenly feel like looking up the middle school teacher who scolded me for writing “sh*t” in a paper once to tell him, “See??? It was educational.” Thank you for that, Nic Cage.

Here’s the official description:

An education in expletives: the history lesson you didn’t know you needed. History of Swear Words, hosted by Nicolas Cage, is a loud and proudly profane series that explores the origins, pop culture-usage, science and cultural impact of curse words. Through interviews with experts in etymology, pop culture, historians and entertainers, the six-episode series dives into the origins of “f*ck,” “sh*t,” “bitch,” “d*ck,” “p*ssy” and “damn.”

History of Swear Words premieres on Netflix on January 5, 2021.

As I sat at my kitchen table, flanked by a seasonally-decorative background, caked in what my pre-pandemic self would call “makeup,” mindlessly clapping at my computer screen, I began to wonder: How did I get here? Here, being the virtual audience of the Drew Barrymore Show – a new entry in the daytime talk show circuit fronted by a child-star-turned-Letterman-flashing-young-Hollywood-elite-turned-yoga-loving-hippie-actress-you’d-love-to-get-a-spiked-kombucha-with, Drew Barrymore. Of course, I had a hunch as to the answer.

My desire to perform for my laptop’s front-facing camera like some over-caffeinated Pomeranian show dog could be boiled down to an almost debilitating sense of curiosity. I’d seen the headlines, the bolded reviews dubbing the show “hypnotically weird,” “low-key insanity,” and, a personal favorite, “where my brain is at” (the last being especially concerning considering I’ve now seen the bright-lit chaos up close and experienced its dizzying, relentless optimism first-hand).

I’d also seen viral videos making their way around social media, clips of Barrymore smashing a miniature-baby-topped cake in her mouth at a news desk, offering up cultural commentary using the word “kook-a-doodle,” bragging about her love of gas station food and stain removers, and of course, the screaming. Lots and lots of enthusiastic screaming.

But, like a BTS concert or a bout of explosive diarrhea, some things can only be understood through first-hand experience. And the Drew Barrymore Show, with its bewitching hysteria and exaggeratedly animated host, seemed to fit that bill. So I bought a ticket. Well, I registered for one online. Surprisingly, it was delivered, free of charge, to my inbox just a few hours later. Sure, the call time was sadistically early and I wasted too much of my life trying to think of a clever response to Drew’s query that I tell her something interesting about myself – I chose to detail the time I smoked weed with Ricki Lake in Texas. (Oddly enough, Drew didn’t tap me for a coveted, virtual one-on-one. That honor went to a West Coast millennial baking cakes for Black Lives Matter.)

But still, the anticipation was high, the draw of the complete unknown enough to make me entertain at least three outfit changes – tops only, bottoms would remain pajama-like.

I wanted to experience the show to understand why an actor of Drew’s caliber would decide, like so many before her, to launch herself into the daytime stratosphere and if her quirky, off-beat persona could sustain an entire season or more. (I consider myself on a first-name basis with her by the way, after what we’ve been through together during a taping of this cheery pop culture circus meant to distract stay-at-home parents burnt-out from their virtual learning responsibilities, you do away with formalities like last names.)

An emailed link brought me to a virtual hangout where a show staffer went over basic Zoom etiquette, about thirty minutes before the live show was set to air. Fan-made signs were checked, instructions to keep any hand-signals family-friendly were handed out, home-lighting was critiqued, and the obligatory applause cue was explained. How many different ways can a human being clap-on-command on a close-up cam? We were about to find out.

And because I’m a journalist who prides integrity and hopes to peel back the curtain when it comes to the mysteries of Hollywood, while Drew teased her rescue dog’s harrowing past, interviewed a cabbage patch doll named Courtney, helped Neil Patrick Harris promote his new board game, worked a bit of magic on comedian Michaela Watkins, and lamented the slow ruin of McDonald’s apple pies, I took notes. So. Many. Notes.

Some were gripes about the early call time and Drew’s boundless sense of energy.

Forget the COVID vaccine, I want whatever concoction Drew must’ve shot up right before air. No Earth-born being is this lively at 8:30 in the morning.

Others were philosophical musings on the state of our social landscape in 2020.

Neil Patrick Harris hard-selling his board-game-for-one might be the saddest, strangest, but oddly, on-the-nose example of what COVID has done to us this year. This is how historians will remember us.

There were bursts of disbelief when Drew roped fellow child star NPH into staging an intervention for “Court-kneeeeee” the doll.

Memorial music. Memorial music is playing in the background guys.

And feelings of solidarity when Drew stuck it to the fast-food corporate overlords.

Wait, do I now have beef with McDonald’s? They used to deep fry their apple pies, but now they’re baked? That feels like a personal attack.

At one point, I question my entire concept of reality when it was revealed that guest Michaela Watkins was not, in fact, in-studio but doing her interview virtually using the same technology Oprah Winfrey credited Drew with introducing to the talk show circuit.

There’s sorcery afoot!

I actually questioned a lot of things, from inspired metaphors with Drew calling one chef the “Banksy of Cakes,” to almost-hallucinatory moments that saw Drew wiggling a jelly cake while imitating turkey gobbles, to this very-real statement Drew made in response to a guest describing their humble beginnings, “I love hearing you were economically challenged!”

But I realized something as I was sucked further into Drew Barrymore’s high-pitched, psychedelic whirlpool: I was weirdly into it.

I was engaged, I was listening, even learning new things – especially when a terrific Astrology segment aired. I was laughing at Drew as much as I was laughing with her, but she invited me to do that, which might be her real superpower and how this show outlasts its naysayers. Drew, and everyone involved in this show from the writers to the producers to the cameramen, know the hook and they’re not afraid to commit themselves to the kind of ridiculousness that raises eyebrows on Twitter or earns SNL parodies if it means spreading unadulterated joy to the masses. (And scoring decent ratings.)

The daytime circuit is over-crowded with the same kind of traditionally-formatted fare – panels of women bickering, news anchors monotonously-repeating the happenings of the day, TV doctors and therapists holding interventions, courtroom catfights. Even Ellen DeGeneres, whose program felt like a small puff of fresh air when it first arrived on the scene is now battling against allegations from crewmembers that have muddied the carefully-cultivated image of kindness she’s monetized over the years. Daytime needs something new, something different, maybe even something daring.

Drew Barrymore’s show is all of those things. The kind of mind-numbing social experiment that rivals the frenzied delirium of a Safdie Brothers crime saga but interjects just enough PBS-after-school-special cheer to quiet the shrieking happening inside your brain as you watch. It’s not pretty all the time. Sometimes, it’s not even coherent. But like a 1994-era Chloe Sevigny, it’s the kind of “It Girl” of the talk show universe that you just can’t quite define, but know you should worship anyway.

We won’t make predictions on its longevity but we will celebrate its unwillingness to conform and the silent vow it’s made to be the weirdest thing on TV right now. It’s both the show we don’t deserve and exactly the kind of show we deserve in 2020.