Brandon's Buzz

(Editor’s note:  I handwrote this post two full weeks ago, back when the topic was considerably more timely.  All apologies for the delay.)

Fall has been in full swing for several weeks now, and to here, its slate of new music has been uniformly stellar:  the New Kids on the Block have executed one of the most brilliantly maneuvered comebacks in recent pop memory with their startlingly fine (and fun) new record The Block (keep an eye out for this set’s second “Single,” a terrific duet with the white-hot Ne-Yo); led by Caleb Followill’s achingly vulnerable drawl, the Kings of Leon have delivered an intoxicating masterpiece with their superlative fourth album Only By the Night; and top-notch singles from Ray LaMontagne, Brandy, Jon McLaughlin, The Killers (whose latest, the strangely alluring “Human,” is marked by dopey-even-for-them lyrical content — the chorus, swear to Jesus, opens with the line “Are we human / or are we dancer?” — but a brilliant beat that splits the blissful difference betwixt “Somebody Told Me” and “When You Were Young”) and others, which would only indicate that more greatness is imminent.

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“In broad, has forgotten today at firm a grip. It was predetermined to return. I around in function also I see that in corrie has entered: the chief wished to be given the gold watch with the secretary, And a door to clasp for some use one’s judgement secure forgotten. But they in passion give birth to not noticed me at once. Half-trice I stand. Then has reached what to do, I wish pit oneself against a bag Yes imperceptibly I pleasure leave. The horse-radish there, has made a agreement with – both of them severely on me Goggle eyes give birth to looked. extravagantly here and me in a block stop it is improve than anything Has not around than niche a yield and to certain: “Greetings!” Here and so the full chaos sometimes turns out I would like that you too have told such history happened with you.”

— a hilarious comment which got caught in the Buzz’s superbly attuned spam filter. (No idear what these folks are advertising, but I find their blisteringly brilliant stream-of-consciousness prose to be ferociously inspired.)

Third records abound this week, as several key newcomers from the past few years all converge upon the second week of October attempting to grab hold of our attention and respect. I fully expect no fewer than one of these records to stand among the entire year’s best; let’s see how the rest of them stack up in kind.

Following the (for them, anyway) breakneck triumph that was Viva La Vida — it only took those silly fools of Coldplay four tries to make a (more or less) cohesive album! — all eyes fall this week to fellow British band Keane to see how they’ll respond.  Their first album, 2004’s Hopes and Fears, went platinum on the blazing strength of its two terrific singles, “Somewhere Only We Know” and “Everybody’s Changing”; 2006’s follow-up disc Under the Iron Sea stumbled a bit despite its blistering rock radio smash “Is It Any Wonder?,” which almost made me believe I’d side with Keane’s lead singer Tom Chaplin over that doofus Chris Martin in a karaoke duel.  Coming off of Chaplin’s shockingly pitch-perfect remake of “Under Pressure” (on which he literally seems to be channeling David Bowie!) for an EP late last year comes Keane’s third record, Perfect Symmetry.  The set’s leadoff single, the hard-driving “Spiralling,” holds a much grittier sound — perhaps even menacing — than anything we’ve heard from these guys heretofore, which is mighty fine by me, particularly considering their rivals in Coldplay have essentially been writing the same frickin’ song for ten years or better.  Watch out for this one; it could well be the sleeper of the fall.

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“Pro is the opposite of con; therefore, progress is the opposite of Congress”

— from the Austin Chronicle’s trivia-based Mr. Smarty Pants Knows column, which last week made a rare lunge toward sarcastic sagacity.

A pair of fascinating newcomers releasing long-awaited sophomore projects, up against a host of old pros returning to the spotlight, punctuate this week’s (regretfully belated — sorry, Sherry Ann!) record store report.  But don’t just take my word for it:

Her already legendary spot-on spoofs of Gov. Sarah Palin will almost certainly stand beside Dana Carvey’s oafish takeoffs on the elder George Bush in the upper echelon of “Saturday Night Live’s” political pantheon, and if there’s any justice, the enormous buzz generated thereby will draw some much-needed attention to the product of the peerless Tina Fey’s day job, as writer and star of NBC’s enormously funny riotous farce 30 Rock.  Critically adored — the series just swept the comedy Emmys, nabbing acting trophies for Fey and Alec Baldwin (as masterful a buffoon as can be found anywhere on the dial these days), as well as honors for the series itself and for its writing — but a Nielsen also-ran — even as a niche show, this thing’s ratings are paltry — Rock miraculously returns for its third season at the end of the month, and to whet appetites for the series’ imminent return, this week brings the arrival on DVD of the outrageously hilarious Season Two, which features another Emmy-nominated turn from Elaine Stritch (as Baldwin’s ribald mother) and guest turns from, among others, Jerry Seinfeld and Edie Falco.  The textbook definition of eccentric television, this often-demented series is certainly not for everyone.  But it is funny, and given how shockingly short is the supply on that these days in TV land, that’s worth celebrating.

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Who else besides me reckons that poor ol’ Sage Rosenfels is fixin’ to get his ridiculously befuddled ass booed out of Houston after he singlehandedly blew a 17-point fourth quarter lead and allowed those pesky Colts to handily defeat his Texans? Hey Sage, here’s a tip, buddy: leave the hurdling to the Jamaicans and focus on cradling the football.

(** An impossibly busy work week coupled with A’s glorious, long-awaited return to Texas is what led to the Buzz’s unexpected hiatus last week. Normal blog functions resume tomorrow, rest assured.)

A historic live project from the queen of my heart is only one of this crowded week’s significant releases. Gentlemen, start your engines:

His debut disc — 2003’s flop A Beautiful World — sure didn’t make any waves, but a new reality emerged post-“SexyBack,” one in which criminally photogenic young men with preternaturally high voices and an immutable passion for synthesized soul could become megastars at the drop of an acutely tailored fedora.  And so it was decreed that Robin Thicke‘s sophomore record, The Evolution of Robin Thicke, would make him an overnight sensation. (Oh yeah, and a killer single — the irresistibly cheesy “Lost Without U” — plus the Oprah stamp of approval, didn’t hurt nothin’.) Thicke took his time crafting album number three, but we finally get a taste of Something Else this week.

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A yelled at me in a tersely-worded email this morning about the fact that I haven’t displayed my flair board in over a week.  So, without further ado, the recent additions:  down in the southeast corner, buttons for good ol’ numbers 11 and 18 (my two favorite quarterbacks ever); one hell of a triumvirate of female songwriters — Joni, Annie, and Patty, no last names needed — makes a (forgive me, belated) flair debut; a special button for my buddy Cris Collinsworth, whose sarcastic, brilliantly tossed asides singlehandedly make NBC’s NFL highlights show “Football Night in America” worth watching; and, finally, a painfully gorgeous heart.  (If you can’t tell what it’s made of, I’ll give you two hints:  it’s the finest portable music device ever invented, and it rhymes with “hi-Flod.”)

“San Diego and Oakland, where Lane Kiffin is still the head coach, but it’s still early in the highlights.”

— sportscaster Dan Patrick, leading into a recap of today’s Raiders/Chargers game (in which Oakland blew a 15-point first half lead and lost 28-18) on NBC’s “Football Night in America.”  (For those who don’t follow football, ugly rumors have been swirling about Kiffin’s imminent firing — an event that seems more certain than ever, now that his team has dropped three of four games after leading in the fourth quarter — since the season’s opening week.)

Conceived as a benefit project with one hundred percent of the proceeds supporting the charity — an honest-to-God four-thousand-acre farm area near Santa Fe, New Mexico which was conceived specifically to give cancer-stricken children something substantive on which to focus their energies and interests — named in the record’s title, The Imus Ranch Record finds a bevy of acclaimed country music stars wrapping their golden voices around tunes that were personally selected for them by the charity’s organizer, Mr. Don Imus, himself.  The lineup of talent is top-shelf — Vince Gill, Bekka Bramlett (Bonnie’s daughter, and still searching for her ticket to the big time), former Maverick Raul Malo, Dwight Yoakam, and my eternal hero John Hiatt, to name just a few — and the results are often fascinating (Patty Loveless presents a twangy take — one you gotta hear to believe — on Fleetwood Mac’s overlooked classic “Silver Springs,” WIllie Nelson offers a sweetly unique spin on the old R&B standard “What a Diff’rence a Day Makes,” and Lucinda Williams — whose latest album, Sweet Honey, is due October 14 — lays down a tender reading of Willie’s classic “Mammas, Don’t Your Babies Grow Up to Be Cowboys”).

Whatever you may think of Imus and his exploitative, self-aggrandizing stances, sometimes you gotta measure a man’s actions against his words.  The man has just displayed killer taste in music, and for as good and worthy a cause as this, that’s worth something.

The Buzz extends most sincere congratulations to the fabulously wicked
Jean Smart, who picked up her third career Emmy Award (and first for a regular series role) last weekend (pulling off a bit of an upset in beating out the favored likes of Amy Poehler of “Saturday Night Live” and the overdue Vanessa Williams of “Ugly Betty”) for her fearless performance as Christina Applegate’s flippant mother from hell on ABC’s freshman hit “Samantha Who?”  You have no idea how thoroughly it warms my heart to see the members of the crackerjack cast of “Designing Women” — now and forever, my vote-getter for funniest situation comedy in the history of television — earn the well-deserved kudos that they were criminally denied during that classic’s original run.  True, Delta Burke, Meshach Taylor, and Alice Ghostley all reaped Emmy nominations for their work in the series, and the show itself won a trio of Outstanding Comedy Series nods, but “Women” was barely recognized for its whipsmart writing — only one nomination for the brilliant Linda Bloodworth-Thomason in the show’s second season — and three of the estimable ensemble’s four titular members — Smart, Annie Potts, and the show’s invaluable tentpole Dixie Carter — were consistently shut out despite years of bravura work.  Thankfully, all three of these women have been subsequently recognized for their brilliance:  Potts received an Emmy nod after replacing Susan Dey in “Love and War” (as well as a pair of SAG Award nominations for terrific work in Lifetime’s breakthrough foray into dramatic series television “Any Day Now”), and the phenomenal Carter at long last snapped her own Emmy drought last year with a startling guest shot on “Desperate Housewives.”  But, by far, the most significant post-“Women” success has been enjoyed by the versatile Smart, who has excelled at both comedy (prior to her current triumph, she nabbed two Emmys for guest shots on “Frasier” and was devilishly uproarious on a couple of heartstoppingly hilarious CBS sitcoms — “High Society,” a brilliantly outrageous (and outrageously ribald) Americanized take on the Bri’ish sensation “Absolutely Fabulous,” and “Style and Substance,” a broad farce loosely based on the world of Martha Stewart — which never got fair shakes) and drama (her indelible performance as the unstable First Lady in the fifth season of “24” earned her a fourth Emmy nod).  And to those critics who are now whispering that Smart didn’t deserve this victory, I say this:  just consider it a make-good on all those years when she was unjustly ignored.  And suck it up already.

Over the past few months, I’ve become great pals with a fabulous woman name of JoAnn Kubasek, who hosts a fascinating online talk show called Stardish on the BlogTalkRadio network.  Although of late, the show has branched out into the worlds of film and Broadway, Stardish’s main beat is the soaps; JoAnn has recently landed terrific interviews with industry icons like Linda Dano, Catherine Hickland, Michael E. Knight, Ilene Kristen, and countless others, and she has done yeoman’s work in constructing this amazing forum for the fans to connect with their favorites.

I’ve had the immense honor of participating in the evolution of this show, both on air (it’s been great fun being able to pick the brains of some of my favorite stars, and — although I did no such thing — JoAnn likes to credit me with “saving her ass” the night she had soap legend Judi Evans, whose acclaimed work she was unfamiliar with, as a guest) and behind the scenes (I’ve done some freelance writing on behalf of the show in recent weeks, and eagerly anticipate further assignments).

Depending on the lineup of guests, Stardish airs most weeknights at 10pm EDT (9 here in Texas, y’all) and can be heard at http://www.blogtalkradio.com/stardish.  I’m quite excited to be co-moderating a soap chat on the show tonight, and you’re all invited to attend and throw your two cents in!

“I want to be in tune. I want to sing pretty. I want to sing sweet. It’s only a relatively recent development that it was appealing to sound bad, you know.”

— the legendary James Taylor, discussing his new album (Covers, due next Tuesday) with Rolling Stone.