Musicology 211
Sorensen, Steve
Issue date: 3/6/06 Section: Showcase
You know what? I heart iTunes. You know why I heart it? I can listen to 30 seconds of just about any song and then I can decide whether or not I want to download it on LimeWire.
You know what I don't like about iTunes? Celebrity playlists. This concept rates right up there with poop on a stick. I have never understood why anyone would want to know what the one-armed drummer from Def Leopard is currently rockin' on his iPod. But seriously though, my heart just yearns to see what Melissa Etheridge and Rammstein are listening to these days. I guess the only benefit these celebrity playlists serve is to let me know whether or not these people are still alive.
When exactly does the 'celebrity' label stop applying toward a particular person? I mean, I would assume that at least five to 10 years out of the spotlight would thwart you back into plebeian status.
And doesn't a sufficient amount of the world's population have to know you exist before you are considered a celebrity? Fifty percent of the people listed with playlists - no clue who they are.
This brings me to another pop-culture piece that is just eating me up these days - who the heck are any of the people on VH1's "Celebrity Fit Club?" I'll watch an episode, and have no clue who anyone is on the show. Then I start to feel bad, like I am not up on my useless pop-culture knowledge.
I felt better, however, when I Google-d them all and found out that one holds the Guinness record for blowing the largest bubble, and another played Tootie's cousin in three episodes of "The Facts of Life." Celebrity shmelebrity. The word is thrown around like child ADD diagnoses. It doesn't mean anything anymore.
If that is what constitutes a celebrity, I am gonna go ahead and say I am a celebrity too - here's why.
Once when I was in downtown Minneapolis with some of my boys, we sat down at Chevy's to get some tex-mex. At the table across from us sat Puddle of Mudd. At first I didn't recognize them until I saw the d-bag lead singer toward the back. I, in a rather loud voice said, "Dude, those are the guys from that turd of a band Puddle of Mudd."
You know what I don't like about iTunes? Celebrity playlists. This concept rates right up there with poop on a stick. I have never understood why anyone would want to know what the one-armed drummer from Def Leopard is currently rockin' on his iPod. But seriously though, my heart just yearns to see what Melissa Etheridge and Rammstein are listening to these days. I guess the only benefit these celebrity playlists serve is to let me know whether or not these people are still alive.
When exactly does the 'celebrity' label stop applying toward a particular person? I mean, I would assume that at least five to 10 years out of the spotlight would thwart you back into plebeian status.
And doesn't a sufficient amount of the world's population have to know you exist before you are considered a celebrity? Fifty percent of the people listed with playlists - no clue who they are.
This brings me to another pop-culture piece that is just eating me up these days - who the heck are any of the people on VH1's "Celebrity Fit Club?" I'll watch an episode, and have no clue who anyone is on the show. Then I start to feel bad, like I am not up on my useless pop-culture knowledge.
I felt better, however, when I Google-d them all and found out that one holds the Guinness record for blowing the largest bubble, and another played Tootie's cousin in three episodes of "The Facts of Life." Celebrity shmelebrity. The word is thrown around like child ADD diagnoses. It doesn't mean anything anymore.
If that is what constitutes a celebrity, I am gonna go ahead and say I am a celebrity too - here's why.
Once when I was in downtown Minneapolis with some of my boys, we sat down at Chevy's to get some tex-mex. At the table across from us sat Puddle of Mudd. At first I didn't recognize them until I saw the d-bag lead singer toward the back. I, in a rather loud voice said, "Dude, those are the guys from that turd of a band Puddle of Mudd."