The National Football League rakes in about $9 billion a year, but that doesn’t mean it’s made of money. Do you know how much the League is going to have to pay out in concussion-related lawsuits for the next forever? Fortunately, the NFL has figured out how to optimize yet another revenue stream: Charging artists for the privilege of playing the Super Bowl Halftime Show. The League already doesn’t pay its halftime performers, but it’s got a new scheme in mind. The Wall Street Journal reports that NFL reps have narrowed their wish-list of possible Super Bowl performers down to three candidates — Coldplay, Katy Perry, and Rihanna — and they’ve reached out to the artists to ask whether they’d be willing to contribute some of their post-Super Bowl tour money to the League, or to make “some other type of financial contribution.”
The Journal also reports that the artists’ reps gave that suggestion “a chilly reception.” If the NFL is really that hard-up for cash, though, I would personally pay $5 to watch Rihanna hit NFL commissioner Roger Goodell with her death-stare for at least 60 seconds.
Pallbearer don’t sound like Black Sabbath. Or they do, sort of, but only to the extent that early Low sounds like a Phil Spector girl group, or that second-album Bon Iver sounds like Bruce Hornsby. The influence is there, clearly audible, underpinning everything Pallbearer do. But it’s all filtered through waves upon waves of oceanic gloop, melting and warping and refracting that original sound until it’s something entirely different. It’s the Sabbath sound when heard through a couple of different Babelfish filters. If, for instance, Iron Maiden were a sped-up drama-class version of Black Sabbath, then Pallbearer sound something like a DJ Screw remix of Iron Maiden, or like Iron Maiden after they’ve been petrified in black tar for a few thousand years. Pallbearer trade in triumphant leads and instinctive juddering caveman riffage and higher-than-the-sun vocal wails, just like so many metal greats before them. But they don’t use those sonic ingredients to batter or scream. Instead, they fold them on top of each other, layering them up like blankets on a cold night, and slowing them down into psychedelic sludge.
Before she went solo, Björk fronted the euphoric Icelandic dreampop band the Sugarcubes. And given that Björk is one of the toughest-to-imitate singers on the face of the earth, it takes a whole lot of courage to even attempt a Sugarcubes cover, let alone to make it your own. So the fact that Syracuse punks Perfect Pussy took on the Sugarcubes’ 1992 song “Leash Called Love” and effortlessly translated its joyous whoosh to their scraping DIY basement hardcore is a pretty remarkable thing. Perfect Pussy’s cover of the song will appear, alongside a new PP song called “Adult World (The Secret),” on a new split 7″ with Joanna Gruesome. For their part, Joanna Gruesome cover I Hate Myself’s “…Keep Reaching For Those Stars” and offer a new song, a kickass straightforward punk rocker called “Psykick Espionage.” Below, listen to Perfect Pussy’s “Leash Called Love” cover, as well as “Psykick Espionage.”
Yes. This is not up for debate. Nobody has ever cried to Aesop.
Man I’m just fucking with you. Lese Majesty is a fine piece of arty rap splurge, but I don’t love it the way so many of y’all do. And I can’t get my mind around the idea that it’s better than a sparkling, insightful, gorgeously recorded Jenny Lewis album.
Thanks guys. Fixed.
You are exactly right. My brain is breaking.
Oh shit, I missed the Punk in Drublic anniversary?!?
Yes and yes, thanks.
Yes and yes, and also shout out to Jessica Szor from Gossip Girl.
This is true. Fixed.
I had high hopes, but it’s pretty bad.
Pharrell – G I R L
Wovenhand – Refractory Obdurate
Vince Staples – Shyne Coldchain Vol. 2
Lil Herb – Welcome To Fazoland
Sylvan Esso – Sylvan Esso