It felt like old school Saturday Night Live last weekend.
For a kid in the Midwest growing up in the 70’s, television was critical in breaking new artists even before MTV told hold.
Back then, it was about those shows that you really shouldn’t have been watching, but did anyway because your parents were too exhausted to enforce their ridiculous rules that merely prolonged the inevitable.
I don’t think my parents were lazy, just clueless. This is what happens when you have kids having kids-you have no idea how to properly rear a child, particularly when your own folks were kind of shitty at child-rearing to begin with.
So you let your kids stay up and watch shit like Saturday Night Live. You take them to Animal House. And you let one of their first records be the Original Broadway Cast Recording of Hair.
After a while, you don’t pay too much attention to the tit references, choosing instead to focus on the neuances of the comedians or the influences of the musical guests.
It was a learning experiences.
If it wasn’t for S.N.L., I wouldn’t have heard Kate Bush as early as I did. Same goes for The B-52’s, Peter Tosh, Captain Beefheart and that piece of shit Leon Redbone.
Last weekend’s host was Zach Galifanakis. Before I begin, let me assure you that I am not an SNL fan-boy. Too many piss poor seasons have taught me this, so let me say that if I’m parked in bed at 10:30 on a Saturday night, I will have a gander at who is on before I plead with my wife to let me watch a rerun of Star Trek: The Next Generation of if there’s the possibility of intercourse.
I was sick as shit over the weekend, so sex wasn’t in the agenda and since I was acting like a big baby, I didn’t press my luck with Star Trek.
Saturday Night Live? Make it so!
I think Zach Galifanakis is a funny enough guy. I’m not totally bought in to him-there’s only so far that a beard and wolf-pack jokes can take me-and I wasn’t impressed the last time the dude hosted.
In fact, I did a double take on the “Info” message in the channel guy to make sure this episode wasn’t the same piece of shit I saw before.
It said “2011” and it listed some “Lisa Lisa” chick as the musical act, and if you’ve caught my intentional name dismissal, you’ll understand that things weren’t looking good for keeping the tele tuned in for SNL’s entire 90 minutes.
Galifanakis was brilliant in the opening monologue-channeling a bit of Andy Kaufman, delicately touching the balance of laughing at someone else’s expense and uncomfortable gawking. Watching Galifanakis going over page after page of written gags, I half expected someone to roll out a record player to Zach so he could mime a rendition of the Mighty Mouse theme song.
But the song was saved for Jessie J, a singer who I’d never heard before. In the first time in forever, I learned something new about an artist-albeit a pop artist, well out of my normal view of the musical landscape.
I’m still not sure who or what B.o.b. is/are, but I’m certain that it was Jessie J. who dominated the musical segment in silly attire (just like the B-52’s!) with “Price Tag.”
She was awesome.
Her debut is already a smash in her native England, and I’m sure it will post some impressive sales-at best as you can in 2011, anyway-when Who You Are is released stateside next month.
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