Lil Wayne wants to see less talk and more action to prevent police brutality. During an Instagram Live chat with Fat Joe, Wayne spoke to the ways in which protests often fail to effect lasting change, saying, “We have to stop placing the blame on the whole force and the whole everybody or a certain race or everybody with a badge… And if we want to place the blame on anybody, it should be ourselves for not doing more than what we think we’re doing.”

In Wayne’s mind, much of the issue of continued police violence against people of color — especially Black people — comes from lack of follow-through. As he told Fat Joe, “Some people put a tweet out and they think they did something. Some people wear a shirt and they think they did something. What you gonna do after that? Did you actually help the person? Did you actually help the family? Did you actually go out there and do something? So, if I ain’t about to do all that, then I ain’t about to do nothing. I’ll pray for ya.”

He elaborated on his view by pointing out that, “What we need to do is we need to learn about it more. If we wanna scream about something, know what we’re screaming about. If we wanna protest about something, know what we’re protesting about. Because if we wanna get into it, there’s a bunch of facts that we think we know that we don’t know. … We scream about things that, sometimes, they really ain’t true.”

Although awkwardly worded, Wayne’s words reflect another rapper’s statement about the ongoing uprisings. Earlier today, Cardi B posted a video to her own Instagram explaining her point of view and while she initially seemed more empathetic than Wayne, she also called for more direct political action. “Another way for the people to take power… it’s by voting… We can vote for mayors, we can vote for judges, and we can also vote for D.A.s (district attorneys)… They have the power to prosecute these cops.”

Wayne says that he’s educating himself on the subject, so if a hip-hop political awakening is on the horizon, there may be no better leader than one of the most influential figures the culture has had for well over two decades. However, should Wayne be on his way to encourage direct political action, he may want to work on that presentation a little.

Watch Wayne’s full interview with Fat Joe above.

The Rundown is a weekly column that highlights some of the biggest, weirdest, and most notable events of the week in entertainment. The number of items could vary, as could the subject matter. It will not always make a ton of sense. Some items might not even be about entertainment, to be honest, or from this week. The important thing is that it’s Friday, and we are here to have some fun.

ITEM NUMBER ONE — Congrats to everyone

You can be forgiven if Mythic Quest slipped by your radar when it debuted earlier this year. The show is an Apple TV+ original and it got way less initial buzz than some of the new streaming service’s other offerings, like the star-packed but mostly underwhelming The Morning Show, or the shows with Jason Momoa or Chris Evans. Apple pushed those pretty hard with big fancy pictures of the big fancy stars and they all kind of scooted right on by. It happens. There are a lot of streaming services and a lot of shows to choose from. There will be collateral damage.

But Mythic Quest is very good. It is a comedy from the Always Sunny brain trust that stars Rob McElhenney as the massively narcissistic creative director of a massively popular video game called, you guessed it, Mythic Quest. The rest of the cast is great, too. Danny Pudi from Community is in there as the deranged monetization guru. F. Murray Abraham plays the drunken head writer. Charlotte Nicdao, who I was not familiar with before this series, plays Poppy Li, the brilliant but overlooked head coder who ends up being the beating heart of the whole thing. The show is very silly and sometimes sweet and might end up surprising you with an emotional wallop here and there. Again, it’s very good. I dig it a lot.

Which brings us to this week, when the show released a special quarantine episode. We’ve seen a few of these now, most notably the Parks & Rec reunion. That was fun. I enjoyed it. But it wasn’t really an episode of television as much as it was a neat diversion to check-in on our old friends. That seemed to the general vibe of most of these specials: a feel-good glance at familiar faces doing goofs into their iPhones. It could be worse. It could also be better. Mythic Quest was the first show I saw that figured that out.

The plot of it all was pretty simple. McElhenney’s character, Ian (pronounced Eye-an), was terrified to leave his compound. Poppy was burying herself in her work. Everyone else was trying to figure out how to deal with a socially-distanced work and personal life through video calls. It all seemed very much like any other quarantine special, with slightly more hot tubs.

But then the back half of the episode hit, and hit it did. Things got real. Cut between silly gags about shaving eyebrows and the development of a multi-person, multi-screen, Rube Goldberg-style chip-eating system, we discovered why Poppy had been burying herself in her work: because, like a lot of us, she was depressed and scared and not sure what to do or how to start once all the distractions peeled themselves away. It all culminated in an emotional moment that I won’t spoil for you except to say this: I watched the episode at about 2 a.m. this week and found myself lying in bed afterward for about 45 minutes, just blown away, staring at my ceiling. It was an emotional hammer, in the best way possible, in the way television and movies can be when they invest in their characters and the story. It was gutting and hopeful and kind and one of my favorite episodes of the year, period, not just quarantine-related.

And then it all ended with the Rube Goldberg reveal set to the Rocky music. I suspect it marked the first time I have ever cried a little while watching someone eat a single chip. The whole thing was a triumph of storytelling and capturing a moment in a human way. If you can find your way into yet another streaming service and can find time for yet another show, seek out Mythic Quest. It’s a good piece of business.

ITEM NUMBER TWO — What a shockingly good week it was for the song “Kokomo”

“Kokomo” is a song by The Beach Boys that was released in 1988. It is famous for two notable reasons: One, it is played at every tourist-y beach bar in the Western Hemisphere every hour on the hour, all day and night, or at least it feels like that; two, yes that is John Stamos on drums in the music video. It was a whole thing. You can look it up if you want to. I don’t have time to get into it right now because we are here to talk about the present, not the past. And in the present, here, this week, somehow, “Kokomo” is having a bit of a moment.

First, Space Force, and yes, there will be some mild spoilers in the next few sentences. Nothing that will ruin your life or potential enjoyment of the show. The short version goes like this: In the first episode, Steve Carell’s character, the head of the titular Space Force, is having a very bad day. He needs to calm down. So, he takes a deep breath, stares out the window, and…

… sings a substantial chunk of “Kokomo” to himself in his office. It was pretty funny and I enjoyed it when I watched my screener a few days ago and I was pretty sure it would be the last time I saw a reference to “Kokomo” on a television comedy for a while. Months, at least, if not years. But then I flipped on this week’s episode What We Do in the Shadows — a very good show — and blammo.

“Kokomo” again. This is… this is still just a coincidence. Barely. For now. But if another television show starts hitting the steel drums and a character starts singing about Key Largo… if, say, Wags from Billions gets drunk and starts belting it out at karaoke… I’m going to look into it. I’m going to figure out why. I’ll take it all the way to the top if I have to.

It’s not the only 80’s song that is popping up in multiple shows this year. Earlier in the same episode of What We Do in the Shadows (again, a good show), in the event that triggered all the musical goofs in a goof-filled episode, a car passed by blasting “Come On Eileen” by Dexys Midnight Runners.

And that’s notable because the song also played a prominent role in the premiere of Hulu’s — also good! — reimagining of High Fidelity.

It’s a good thing I have this column to dump these thoughts into. Otherwise, I’d just be shouting them out my window at people in the parking lot. My neighbors would hate me so much.

ITEM NUMBER THREE — Sure, crash a plane, who cares

I understand very little about Tenet, the upcoming movie from Christopher Nolan. I think that’s the point. I’m in this weird space where I’m both excited about it and already kind of exhausted by it even though it doesn’t come out until mid-July. I’ll tell you what would get me a little more pumped, though: some completely nutso story from the set. Something just wilder than a sack of wasps. Something like “Christopher Nolan purchased and crashed a real commercial airplane because it was cheaper than doing it in CGI.” From Total Film:

“I planned to do it using miniatures and set-piece builds and a combination of visual effects and all the rest,” Nolan tells TF. However, while scouting for locations in Victorville, California, the team discovered a massive array of old planes. “We started to run the numbers… It became apparent that it would actually be more efficient to buy a real plane of the real size, and perform this sequence for real in camera, rather than build miniatures or go the CG route.”

Yes. Yes, this will do just fine. I hope this starts a trend. I hope the 10th Fast & Furious comes out in a few years and Vin Diesel says “At some point, we realized it would just be cheaper to film on the actual moon rather than do it with computers.” I hope he’s wrong, too, and the exorbitant price tag of sending the entire cast and crew into the cosmos bankrupts an entire studio. That would be fun. I mean, for me.

ITEM NUMBER FOUR — Snack chat

Adam Horovitz, better known as Ad-Rock from Beastie Boys, is one of my favorite people in the world and has been for some time. There are a bunch of reasons for this, many of which I’ve documented in this very column in the past few weeks as the press tour for Beastie Boys Story kicked into high gear. One of the biggest is his refusal to take interviews seriously. The man is impossible to nail down, in large part because he refuses to give more than two straight answers in a row before he starts screwing around. He did it again this week, in the prestigious pages of The New Yorker. The interviewer tried to talk about the movie. Ad-Rock obliged, for a while. But then he wanted to talk about snacks.

When I was kid, my aspiration was to have snacks—to be able to have whatever snacks I wanted. That’s not what my house was like. My friend Neil and I talked about success, like, what success really is. And I was, like, “If you have a washer/dryer in your apartment, you’re fucking big time.”

This is not the first recent interview he yoinked off the rails with Snack Chat. He did it on Desus & Mero, too. The man really loves snacks. And shopping for them at the grocery store. As you can see.

Maybe I’ll continue writing and talking about all the stupid shit that I’ve done. The whole thing is so weird. That I’m fifty-three is fucking weird. I have money; I can buy whatever I want at the supermarket. I’m very lucky.

So, two things here:

— This is actually a very deep point. Food insecurity is a real issue for a lot of people and there’s something profoundly comforting about knowing you can just grab anything you want off the shelf and bring it home. I remember being very broke in my early 20s and making hot dog quesadillas for dinner because all I had in my fridge were hot dogs, tortillas, store-brand cheese slices, and a few barbecue sauce packets. They were actually kind of good, but that’s not that point. Maybe it is. I’ve admittedly lost the thread a bit here.

— This quote also cracks me up because he’s a Beastie Boy and could probably buy a small-to-midsize island if he wants, and he’s probably talking about, like, Dunkaroos here.

It also led to this follow-up exchange.

Right. That makes sense, given that you once thought that making it meant you could get a lot of snacks.

Like Shane, my friend in junior high. He had fucking Mountain Dews. He had so many snacks.

This is what I mean, man. Stuff like this from your childhood sticks with you. This is why he loves snacks so much. That and all the weed he cops to smoking at another point in the interview. Probably a little of both.

Anyway, big shouts to Shane.

ITEM NUMBER FIVE — MURDER DOG

MURDER DOG HAS A TRAILER.

REMEMBER MURDER DOG?

HERE. LOOK AGAIN.

The film centers on Maggie (Judy Greer), a woman who gets an emotional support dog to help quell some of her anxiety. Only, she finds him to be even more effective than she could have imagined because, unbeknownst to her, he kills anyone who adds stress to her life… [Steve] Guttenberg [plays] Don, Maggie’s “misanthropic but at times soft around the edges” boss, while Wong is Annie, a former baby-sitting charge of Maggie’s who recently moved to Los Angeles and rekindles their friendship.

MURDER DOG.

MURDER DOG.

READER MAIL

If you have questions about television, movies, food, local news, weather, or whatever you want, shoot them to me on Twitter or at [email protected] (put “RUNDOWN” in the subject line). I am the first writer to ever answer reader mail in a column. Do not look up this last part.

From Seth:

I started watching What We Do in the Shadows on your recommendation the other week and I love it. I don’t think I’ll ever get over Laszlo going on the lam as a bartender named Jackie Daytona. I gotta ask, as an expert in the fake name department, what name you would choose if you had to go on the lam. I think I’d go with Rex Telluride. It’s no Jackie Daytona, but it’s a decent start.

REX TELLURIDE!

That’s terrific, Seth. I can picture him now. He definitely has a cowboy hat. He chooses his words carefully. He’s basically Raylan Givens from Justified but for some reason, I’m picturing a mustache. And maybe he loves to play craps. Rex Telluride, mustachioed dice-thrower. Yes, this definitely plays.

As for me, my answer remains the same as always: I will become Mitch Casino. I still need to work on the rest of the cover identity, but I feel like the name gets me at least halfway there. I imagine I just need to say “My name is Mitch Casino” into a mirror a few times and the rest will fall into place.

AND NOW, THE NEWS

To Vermont!

Like any politician, humans aren’t the only ones in the middle of an election cycle. One small town in Vermont appoints a mayor of the four legged variety. Meet Lincoln, a Nubian goat and the first pet mayor of Fair Haven, Vermont, elected to office in 2019.

Oh hell yes. We have an incumbent goat mayor up for re-election. And there are other candidates. There are so many other candidates.

“A lot of students in the Fair Haven grade school wanted to nominate their own pets, so we had a bunny, a hamster, a horse. I think there were five or six dogs. Five cats. There were 18 candidates, but were three main candidates that stood out to voters: Lincoln, the incumbent goat; Sammy, the police canine; and Murfee, the therapy dog. Lincoln had a very successful first term as mayor and, being an incumbent, a lot of people knew her name already so she was definitely a front runner.”

How funny would it have been if that sentence listing the dozens of animal candidates and the three front runners ended with “and a human named Doug Jenkins, the longtime town treasurer who has made it his life’s goal to clean up the town’s finances after decades of frivolous spending by its animal mayors”?

I’ll tell you. It would have been very funny. Classic Doug. But I’ve buried the lede here: A new candidate captured the hearts and minds of the populace and rode that wave to an upset victory.

“They were a little disappointed, but it didn’t take long for them to start cheering and applauding for Murfee. They were very excited that passing the torch on and it’s a new year. I think they’re looking forward to seeing what Murfee will do with his mayoral seat.”

This is great. The only thing that could ruin it is if there is another paragraph that makes it all less fun. Like if they reveal that the animal mayor is just for show and is not allowed to govern.

“I don’t think that Fair Haven will have a human mayor anytime soon, because Fair Haven has a human town manager, which is essentially sort of the same thing as a mayor. He makes a lot of the big decisions. He oversees that select board. So I think the town government is comfortable with just having a town manager. But I think they also really love having a pet mayor.”

Ugh, fine.

The RX is Uproxx Music’s stamp of approval for the best albums, songs, and music stories throughout the year. Inclusion in this category is the highest distinction we can bestow, and signals the most important music being released throughout the year. The RX is the music you need, right now.

Jeff Rosenstock wasn’t planning on releasing a soundtrack to a global pandemic. In fact, Rosenstock’s latest punk rock opus was completed in February, close to a month before stay-at-home orders were issued across the United States. A surprise release date was set for July, echoing the strategy employed for Rosenstock’s last album Post-, which fell out of the sky on New Years Day in 2018. But the release was pushed up a few months in light of the current reality of the world. “Once it became really clear that this sh*t is all completely f*cked, we were like, ‘Okay, well, what’s the earliest day on the Polyvinyl release calendar that has some space so I can put this out?’” Rosenstock tells me over the phone from his new home in Los Angeles.

No Dream is a record that finds Rosenstock diving head-first into his own psyche, as well as the psyche of the world at large. The music is heavier and faster throughout than it was on Post- or 2016’s Worry, both of which were broken up by more laid-back, introspective numbers. When asked whether this shift to a heavier sound was intentional to accompany the weight of the lyrical material, Rosenstock quickly demurs. The reason is actually much more simple: “There were no slower or quieter songs I was writing that felt particularly interesting to me… I think I was just craving a fun punk record to listen to.”

It was also important for the band as a whole, which has been on the road tirelessly since 2016, to go as hard as they could on a recording. “When we’re on tour in America I’m driving a lot of the time,” he says, “so I wanna listen to some f*cking punk, I wanna listen to some ska, I wanna stay up, I wanna listen to some loud sh*t, I wanna listen to some rap sh*t where rappers are going super hard, that kind of stuff. And as a band we’re always trying to do things that we think are sick and that feel fun to do. It makes me smile personally anytime we’re doing super heavy stuff or super chuggy stuff.”

While working on the record in Oakland with producer Jack Shirley, Rosenstock would often wonder if he and the band were going too far on their quest for the heaviest and chuggiest sound. It was not uncommon for him to turn to Shirley and ask something along the lines of, “Does this guitar sound like it’s actually playing notes or is it just all fuzz and all distortion?” To Shirley’s credit, he was able to take the band’s cacophony and channel it into something deliberate and truly enveloping. Rosenstock notes, “It’s fun recording with Jack because we’re all in the mindset of all the time just being like if it’s gonna be loud then it should be f*cking loud and you should blow it the f*ck up, you know?”

With No Dream, Rosenstock has once again outdone himself and officially cemented his position as a punk rock savior for a generation disenfranchised and left to dry by the American establishments. Our conversation has been condensed and lightly edited for clarity.

I’m used to seeing you around the Brooklyn scene. What’s it like living in LA?

It’s really hard to say because we moved out here, I caught up on a bunch of work that I missed since we were packing. Then like the first week of March, I thought, “Okay, this is where my schedule clears up and I’m gonna get to see what everything is like.” As far as like the f*ckin’ pandemic report, we have the stay-at-home order indefinitely passed for right now, so I don’t know. It’s great. Nothing but more hope and good times on the horizon, definitely.

Everyone’s happy and nothing’s gone wrong.

Why aren’t they putting that in the news?

I’ll put it in the news, why not? I’ll write it down: everything is great and nothing is going wrong.

Yeah! Good! Finally.

So, going to the music, thank you for releasing an album that made me feel some semblance of energy. I’m sitting here listening to Big Thief all day thinking, “This is what my life is like now.” And then No Dream comes out of nowhere and it was the first time where I was like, “Sick, this is exactly what I needed to hear” and it made me sit up. So thank you for that.

Oh, thanks, man! Thank you for listening to it. Thanks for caring about it.

So, what does it mean to you to be releasing this album that a lot of people, myself included, are treating as the soundtrack to their existential dread?

This might just be a self-fulfilling f*ckin prophecy by me saying it out loud, but I just hope that once we’re all through this, this record doesn’t have the effect of looking at an old picture of an ex or something and being like, “Those were dark times, I can’t f*ck with this anymore.” I don’t know. I feel bad that any of us are experiencing existential dread, I think that is how I feel.

Even though the album was completed before this pandemic really hit, it seems like some of the themes that you’re talking about are even more applicable viewed through the lens of our current moment. Have current events shifted the way you hope someone will approach this record?

I just want anybody to approach anything that I do however they feel is appropriate. Like, I haven’t re-contextualized anything cause I know what the songs are about for me. But it was very surprising once I started showing this record to people who were like, “Holy sh*t this relates to all this stuff happening with the pandemic.” It never dawned on me that would be the case. When we decided to put it out early, I kind of figured it might not even resonate with anybody at all. But, at the same time, the fact that it even relates at all can be a little frustrating, in a larger sense.

I feel like I’ve been talking in my songs for the last few records about these systemic issues that just keep getting worse and worse. It’s frustrating that that kind of sh*t is still relatable. I would love to have put this record out in a world where it’s kind of anachronistic because we’ve actually passed gun control measures and people don’t go into schools regularly with f*cking assault weapons and kill people. I would prefer that to having it resonate, of course.

So what do you think is the role of punk rock, protest music, and political music in 2020?

I think more about ’70s reggae records that I listened to, Jimmy Cliff songs and Toots And The Maytals. Motown stuff too, like Stevie Wonder records and sh*t. It was stuff that was political and they were talking about strife but in a way where you can feel less alone while you’re listening to it. I think the stuff that I listen to is kind of ingrained in me — ska and reggae and political pop stuff from another era. Stuff that will hopefully get people to open their eyes and pay attention to things that are going on, but also you can hopefully just be there for somebody who sees what’s going on and can listen to a thing and be like, “F*ckin yeah! Right!”

This record especially seems like it’s a balancing act handling struggles that are both internal and societal. How do you strike that balance to make the songs personal, but also worldly?

I don’t really think about it like that. It’s kind of like a thing I figure out later when other people hear the record and tell me that I did it. I think that they’re all one in the same. I kind of changed the way I wrote lyrics a little bit when we started working on Worry because I really did focus mostly on my internal sh*t and treating it entirely as a journal for what I was feeling. I wanted to get to a point where I could express what I believe, which is that we experience the systemic failures of our countries and people full of hate, at the same time we’re experiencing whatever personal things we’re going through, whatever personal growth we’re trying to reach, whatever personal way we’re just trying to figure out how to be happy.

I think I’m trying to approach it all as one thing, because that’s how it feels to me. It feels like one big jumble of emotions all the time. They try to corral you into that jumble via how things are reported to keep your attention moving onto different tragedies so that you can’t even f*cking process anything! We’re in this sh*t storm, man, and within the sh*t storm it’s unclear. I think that’s where there appears to be a balance between these things, when it’s really a tornado of what the f*ck is going on.

Are you able to distill what the dream is that you’re saying there is none of?

There’s a bunch of dreams. If I told you an answer to that question it would be whatever I thought of within these ten seconds, and it would be a lie. So I’ll say, it’s intentionally open-ended, much in the way that Post- was.

Personally, I hear “no dream” as “no American Dream.” The album, too, seems to reflect something that I’ve been thinking about a lot, especially during the pandemic, which is the narrative that our generation is the new Lost Generation. I read an article the other day on The Atlantic with the literal title “Millennials Don’t Even Stand a Chance”.

Yeah, but a chance to do what? To buy a house? You could rent a house. You could live in an apartment. Whatever they dangle in front of you as the thing that you should aspire to, could be a thing to just distract you from what your own personal feelings are, and what you would like to do, and how you would like to treat other people. There’s always something super expensive put in front of you that’s like, “If you don’t get this then you’re a f*cking failure, and you can’t grow up.” In my mind, I feel like the last however many years have been set up to prevent our generation from getting ahead in a lot of ways. I think this is a symptom of a system that was set up to increase income inequality.

That f*cking headline is there to get you anxious and look at it, then look at the ads that are there accompanying it so you can be like, “I don’t stand a chance, unless I get this f*cking weighted blanket, and then I’ll be great!” It’s scary in a time when our only interactions with each other, because of this pandemic, are often through media. Are often through these channels that will have ads there for you. That sh*t is f*cking scary.

And I bet when I hang up on this call with you I’m gonna get a targeted ad for a weighted blanket.

And you’re gonna get that weighted blanket because it’s gonna fix it all!

No Dream is out now on Polyvinyl Records. Listen and pick up the album on vinyl here.

View Entire Post ›

Inglewood rapper D Smoke puts his multiple talents on full display during an at-home NPR Music Tiny Desk Concert, rapping, singing, and playing piano throughout a soulful, stripped-down, four-song set featuring selections from his debut album Black Habits. While past hip-hop Tiny Desk Concerts have seen rappers play their beats from sound systems, D Smoke instead plays the instrumental sections, sans drums, on his piano as he raps his way through “No Commas,” “Closer to God,” “Seasons Pass,” and “Black Habits II.”

Smoke, who won the inaugural season of Netflix’s competition show Rhythm + Flow, also speaks to the family background that inspired his debut album, as well as admitting that his performance of “Black Habits II” was his first ever live performance of the song. He also addressed the effects of COVID-19 quarantine on the community around him, closing businesses and affecting his own ability to go out and touch fans in person. However, he remains positive and hopeful, showing the resilience and defiance that made him one of Snoop Dogg’s favorites on Rhythm + Flow, even when he stumbles in some points of his performance. The Tiny Desk demonstrates all of the reasons why D Smoke earned his win and everything that comes after it.

Watch D Smoke’s At-Home Tiny Desk Concert above.

Today marks the release of Golden Hour, the first album from Kygo in a few years. Like his previous releases, this record is filled with collaborations, including songs with Tyga, Zara Larsson, Zac Brown, OneRepublic, and even Whitney Houston. Also on the tracklist is Kim Petras, who guests on “Broken Glass.” On the thumping track, Petras sings about a relationship that turned foul due to the destructive people in it: “We could turn love into a fight / Over nothin’, over nothin’, over nothin’ / And the only thing we had in common with each other / Was destroyin’ everything we ever touched.”

Petras said of the song and of working with Kygo:

“‘Broken Glass’ really connected with me and what I was going through at the time. Kygo and I have written a couple of songs together in the past, but we’ve been trying to make something happen. I think the song is amazing and I’m a big fan of Kygo, so I’m really excited to be on his album and for it to come out!”

Kygo shared a celebratory message about the album’s release, writing on Instagram, “‘Golden Hour’ is finally out guys. feels surreal dropping all these songs. I’ve been working so hard on this album the last 2 years and I’m so happy and proud of each and every song. The album consists of 18 songs and is exactly 1 hour of music. Thank you to all the insanely talented artists I’ve had the chance to work with on this record; hopefully we’ll get the chance to play these songs together live someday soon. And a huge thank you to all my fans who have been supporting me the last couple of years. I hope you enjoy this album as much as I did making it.”

Listen to “Broken Glass” above.

Jimmy O. Yang is worried his dad might be funnier than he is. He jokes about it in his new special on Amazon Prime Video, Good Deal, and when we talk about the surprise cameo his dad pulls off in the upcoming Netflix comedy Space Force, with Steve Carell and John Malkovich… but the fear is real. And earned. Jimmy O. Yang’s dad, is in fact, funny, but unlike his son — who’s spent the past decade crafting material for his first streaming stand-up set and acting on cult hits like HBO’s Silicon Valley — the senior Yang is just getting started.

So, for now, we’re going to let Jimmy have his moment. It’s more than deserved, especially after watching how the comedian is able to weave cultural commentary of Asian stereotypes seamlessly amongst Matt Damon digs and dick jokes. (To be clear, he’s joking about his own dick, not Matt Damon’s.) And his Space Force character, an Asian scientist much too smart to be taking orders from Carell’s Air Force general, is one of the show’s standouts – especially as the series moves forward and an unlikely romance begins to blossom. We chatted with Yang about the challenge of cracking jokes at his family’s expense for his new special, why he’ll never do virtual stand-up, and how Malkovich campaigned for his dad’s biggest role yet.

In your first stand-up special and right out of the gate, you’re tackling Asian stereotypes with penis jokes. How do you hype yourself up to share those kinds of embarrassing, personal stories with an audience of complete strangers?

That’s the only way I know how to make friends, self-deprecation. No, I think every standup starts by telling dumb dick jokes and masturbation jokes and then as you grow, you become more vulnerable and you’re able to open up a little more to the audience. It’s something I really want to share, especially with the Asian audience, because there isn’t a lot out there. I remember every time seeing any Asian comedian talk about family or whatever, thinking “Yo, that is so true. Nobody’s talking about that. And that’s hilarious.” It made me feel a little more, I guess relevant. I’m like, “Oh man, I feel like my voice is being heard.”

It’s a very weird form of therapy, my friend. Has the timing of this special been on your mind?

Maybe there’s something nice, during these bleak times, to see something that was done before the pandemic. It’s like, “Oh, look at how joyful the audience was. Wow, what a better time.” I think there’s so much conversation about the important stuff that’s going on right now and the reporting of it. So with this comedy special, I was just happy that it could serve as some kind of escape for an hour. Maybe you forget about the bullshit that’s going on outside.

You tackle Asian representation really well in this special, specifically how Hollywood often miscasts Asian stories. Really, it’s all Matt Damon’s fault.

Well, the joke is, it’s not Matt Damon’s fault. He’s an actor and it’s a shitty thing that happened, but I ain’t mad at it. It was a choice. Early on in my career I don’t think I brought up those kinds of things, but I think it’s just my life right now, what I’m going through, the stuff I’m thinking about, my perspective on it. It’s not all like, “Hey, fuck Matt Damon. He should have never [done that].” It’s finding a funny take on it. I don’t represent all Asian opinions. It’s just my opinion. And I get it because I’m an actor — it’s a job. I would have done it. If they cast me in Mount Rushmore — but that’s the bit.

It’s easier to laugh at it now too after the success of Crazy Rich Asians and Parasite.

My set literally starts with, “Asian’s, we’ve been having a couple of good years,” which is so funny, because I don’t think this year now is our best year. I was worried about that. I was like, “Oh shit. Is that statement even true anymore?” But then somebody tweeted me, “Yo, it’s nice to remember that we did have a couple of good years.” And that’s the world doing the comedy for me. I never really do stuff that’s extremely topical because I don’t think there’s longevity in that. I want this special to be funny ten years from now. So it’s interesting. That’s a setup. That wasn’t even a joke. But now, because of the irony, it’s a joke in itself.

We get to learn a lot about your parents, particularly your dad in this special but he’s in another project you’ve got coming up: Space Force.

Who told you that?

I looked it up, man.

On IMDB? Because I wasn’t sure if this was a secret or not. I never asked Greg Daniels.

They don’t give him credit, which is some bullshit.

How’d you find out? Did I talk about it in some other interview?

Your special made me curious. I was like, “I want to see what his dad looks like.” From there, it was just basic detective skills. I’ve got time on my hands.

What are you, some kind of a spy?

Worse. I’m bored.

He’s good, huh? Without giving too much away, he’s standing toe-to-toe with John Malkovich.

He’s definitely coming for your spot.

Absolutely. I’m going to get fired. No, no. It was a very fun, joyous day on set. A couple of days actually. John Malkovich helped him get the job because that episode, we had to hire a couple of authentic older, Chinese people. It’s always the same two guys because there’s not a lot of choices out there. So I jokingly said to Malkovich that bit that I do in my stand up, “Yeah, my dad started acting after I did,” and Malkovich told Greg (Daniels), “Hey, Jimmy’s dad’s an actor. You should consider him.” I didn’t really even have the balls to pitch it, but Malkovich did it for me. So the next day I cut together a little acting reel for my dad from all the previous commercials and little parts that he’s done. And then I sent it to Greg and he got the job that way. So we all really helped him and he was so excited to be on set. I think he was nervous, but it didn’t show, he was such a professional.

It’s funny, because in the special we get to hear how unimpressed he was with your career choice.

It’s an interesting 180 he made. At first, when I told him I was comedian he wasn’t down with it. When I told him, I want to act he’s like, “Okay, whatever man.” Then, when I found success, he never went through the phase of just accepting and congratulating, like, “Oh my God, I’m proud of you. Good job.” He went completely past that and the other side is like, “Okay, well I can do it. What’s up, hook me up with a job.”

What was it like, working on Space Force with a comedy icon like Steve Carrel and Malkovich?

They’re all geniuses. I love everyone in that cast. It’s probably not as loose as The Office, but we definitely improvised quite a bit, especially Steve. Sometimes I’m sitting in that launch room, just watching Steve and John go at it and I’m just like, “Holy shit. I’m watching this master class going down right now.”

Now that the first special is done, what’s next for you in the stand-up space?

I think it’s growing as a comic. It’s allowing yourself to sit in those stories that are meaningful and not being nervous that the audience isn’t laughing for a minute or two. I always try to find a balance. I’m still a stand-up. I think in this special it’s 80% just jokes, and then 20% I open up, get a little more personal, tell you some stories in that. I like that balance. Whereas the next special, would I skew a little more in another direction? I don’t know yet. I don’t have any material now that 10 years’ worth of material is on this television set.

Is comedy going to have to adapt to this new normal we’re living right now?

You can’t do standup in a vacuum. I’ve seen some friends trying to do virtual standup shows on Zoom. That’s just my worst fucking nightmare. Why would you do that to yourself? There’s no audience, no response. What are you sitting on your chair doing it? Also, people can record it forever, which is the worst thing that could happen. I’ll be interested to see what the temperature is out there because things aren’t going to be the same. What will the audience laugh at? Would they want to hear my perspective on the pandemic or just want escape? We’ll see.

So if I see you doing a Zoom stand-up special, you’ve hit rock bottom and I should call for help.

Just call a wellness check on me, please.

After donating to your Patreon, of course.

Oh yes. Fan Only too.

Netflix’s ‘Space Force’ streams on May 29.

Australian breakout singer Tones And I arrived on the scene with her hit track “Dance Monkey,” which became the most Shazam-ed single of all time. Following the release of two singles earlier this year, “Can’t Be Happy All The Time” and “Bad Child,” the singer returns with another energetic effort.

Directed by Nick Kozakis, Liam Kelly, and Tones And I herself, the singer embodies several different stereotypes at a party in her “Ur So F**king Cool” video. She cheekily portrays a vain beauty influencer, a pacifist hippie, a plastic surgery addict, and herself, feeling out of place and disinterested amid all the self-absorbed partygoers. “Walk into a party, feelin’ out of place / Everyone’s too cool, everyone’s too fake / I try to start a conversation but I can’t seem to relate / Yo, I’m about to get an Uber,” she sings.

Ultimately, the song was inspired by the relatable instance of feeling isolated at a party. In a statement, Tones And I said: “I wrote this song after I went to a party and everyone there thought they were the coolest thing ever and I just thought, ‘This is sh*t, I’m leaving.’”

Watch Tones And I’s “Ur So F**king Cool” above.

Tones And I is a Warner Music artist. Uproxx is an independent subsidiary of Warner Music Group.

I have been writing about The Walking Dead for many years now, but long before the AMC series, I was a massive fan of zombie movies. A decade after The Walking Dead inspired dozens of new zombies series and then seemingly consumed them all, I remain — as ever — a huge fan of the genre. Save for Netflix’s phenomenal Black Summer, however, not a lot of zombie TV shows have broken through in recent years. Nevertheless, one rises above them all: Kingdom.

Like The Walking Dead, Kingdom is also based on a comic book, Kim Eun-Hee’s Kingdom of the Gods, but unlike the Virginia set series and its Texas based spin-off, Fear the Walking Dead, Kingdom is set in Korea during the Joseon period — in the 1600s, to be exact. Kingdom is Netflix’s first original Korean series, and it is stunningly good. Like the best zombie movies and television series, Kingdom would be good even without the zombies. It’s a show about class, about corruption, and about a kingdom’s inability to stop the deadly spread of a disease (some of these themes may sound familiar right now).

The backdrop of Kingdom is this: There are rumors that the King of Joseon is dead, and as these rumors spread, there’s a call to crown his successor, Lee Chang (Ju Ji-hoon). Inside the palace, however, others who want to bypass the Crown Prince and install their own king (a baby soon to be born) manage to keep the King “alive” by feeding him a plant, which turns him into a ferocious zombie. After someone in a poor town uses an infected person as meat in a soup, the outbreak spreads from the King to that small village. Ultimately, the Crown Prince, along with his guard, a warrior, and a doctor, fight to protect the townspeople from the zombies while also protecting themselves from the palace’s corrupt forces.

After the opening episode lays the foundation, Kingdom is a dense and briskly-paced series, but it is something that a lot of zombie series aren’t anymore: terrifying. The zombies are the fast-moving, Zack Snyder Dawn of the Dead variety — feral, ferocious creatures that spring and jump and travel in large hordes. However, unlike most zombies, these lay dormant during the day, and they hide in packs underneath houses. Somehow, they are almost more terrifying during while they are harmless and asleep. However, as scary as Kingdom can be, it can also be brilliantly funny, not just in terms of the characters, but in the physical actions of the zombies, too.

Thematically, like Bong Joon Ho’s Parasite, Kingdom explores class inequities, and while the series itself is about a zombie outbreak, it’s based on an actual plague during the Joseon dynasty that killed tens of thousands of people, a period in which the powerful presumably trampled upon those without it. What is also remarkable — and in some ways seems to mirror our current environment — is that even as the disease spreads, the politicians continue to brazenly vie for more power as thousands beneath them die.

Politics aside, however, Kingdom is terrific, terrifying, occasionally funny, and always entertaining zombie series. Especially for those of us who have gone six weeks without our The Walking Dead fix, this Netflix series perfectly fits the bill.

It’s been a few years since Brooklyn rapper Joey Badass released his last album, All-Amerikkkan Badass, but the messages from it resonate as strongly as ever in light of current events. The album finds Joey in full revolutionary mode, speaking to the ills of American society, including racism, inequality, and police brutality, making it one of the timeless albums that bears repeating as the cycle of state violence continues to be publicized on social media. That’s exactly the same quality that Joey believes has DSPs (digital streaming platforms) “censoring” his music.

When some fans reached out to Joey about problems streaming songs from All-Amerikkkan Badass yesterday, the rapper posted screenshots to his story of Apple Music users receiving error messages and complaining of censorship.

Joey himself reacted on Twitter, posting his own screenshot and lamenting, “WOKE UP TO MFS CENSORING MY MUSIC.”

Among the screenshots from Joey’s fans, the common thread appears to be a message that “This song is unavailable in your region.” While none of the screenshots reveal which region those fans are attempting to play their music from, there are plenty of reasons for the error, from licensing rights changes to a simple glitch in the software. On Joey’s own screenshot, the downloaded tracks are also not playing, suggesting that the problem was from Apple’s side, though.

The album in question played just fine as of press date from both my laptop and my phone, so it was likely just a temporary glitch. Besides, other inflammatory albums, like Ice Cube’s Amerikkka’s Most Wanted and Dead Prez’s Let’s Get Free seemed to play just fine in that same time frame so it seems unlikely that there was any concerted effort to silence hip-hop’s political voice. In any event, Joey’s been hinting that he has some new music on the way, so it may be just the right time for an update on his sociopolitical commentary.

Listen to Joey’s “Land Of The Free” above