Ok--I realized after checking out my notes from last night's show that I missed some things. The medley of Eagles' songs by Rascal Fatts (yes I know it's Flatts) but jesus--you get a gander at that lead singer. He reminds me of this hideous drag queen I knew of in grad school. Or a girl's volleyball coach doing karaoke after one too many kamikazees. Did we need to see him air guitar during that excrutiating take on "Hotel California"? Well, at least he wasn't singing during the guitar solos. The only thing worse than listening to Don Henley and the Eagles is listening to earnest cover versions.
Note to Lady Miss Carrie: Jesus Take the Low Notes. I'm hoping you were just over-awed by the bedazzled leathry sadness beside you...but I doubt it.
Why did they spend so much time on Don Henley while James Brown got short shrift? I'm not dissing Christina--seriously, bitch killed. There were so many people in that audience who owed the Godfather an artistic debt, that it's a shame. If nothing else it would've given us some uptempo performances. It just seems a lack of perspective. Without James Brown we wouldn't have funk or rap. Without Don Henley--well, I'd be happier.
No comments:
Post a Comment