Azealia seems genuinely convinced the only reason she's not successful is because she's black and not because she's a self-sabotager. I actually feel almost bad for her to be honest, she must have some serious issues with herself
Then again, you do not listen to Muse records for nuance. Muse have to hit the stadium cheap seats and the back row in any given 8th-grade history class. This is how they end up with songs like "Mercy" and "Revolt"—wherein lead singer Matt Bellamy commands tens of thousands to shout down the brainwash tactics of diabolical plutocrats while wearing Bad Boy circa-'98 shiny suits that should warrant a name change to Mu$e.
P4K's review of Muse's new album is the best thing I read this year. No only because they panned the **** out of them but they also dragged Pink Floyd and Rush.
What or who are they? This photo feels very embarrassing and awkward.
Is that Amy Adams and Paul Rudd? Because I want them both dead.
...Vin
They're The Americans, duh!
Quote:
The Americans is the best show most people aren't watching. Given how uncompromising it is, and how many games it plays with our sympathies, that's not a surprise. The whole show is so slippery that it's hard to find anything in it to hold on to. No sooner has a scene or subplot become emotionally concrete, and sometimes hugely affecting, than it takes a surprising or alarming turn and flips your sympathies upside down. This Reagan-era time capsule about Russian spies posing as American travel agents is one of the better current examples of antihero TV. The entire point of that mode has been — or at least should've been — to let us approach familiar institutions and bits of received wisdom from strange moral and ethical angles so that you can see the things in mitochondrial form. It's one thing to look at marriage, parenting, fidelity, and patriotism through the eyes of conventional middle-class bourgeois Americans, as the vast majority of TV shows do. It's quite another to see them enacted, subverted, or mocked, in an alternately sincere and calculated way, by Soviet secret agents.
Whatever pleasure can be generated from Bellamy’s admirable melodic sense and overblown hooks is negated by Muse’s insistence that they’re profound rather than fun. They’re too humorless to be camp, unwilling to explore the obvious homoerotic subtext of the plot (I mean, just read the lyrics to "Psycho") and unshakable in their errant belief they’re tearing down a power structure rather than solidifying it.
It's amazing