KANYE WEST: Late Registration

DeeDee: West is a good last name for black people. Thank god that Cornell can agitate better than he can rap. But Kanye, you stood up and told the whole world that the people who died in New Orleans died because George W. Bush hates black people on live national TV. I don't know if you can rap and all that, but keep fucking talking. But wait…Late Registration. Hmm. Would that be a voter registration maybe that will never be counted because you're black? Gore? Kerry? Bueller? Bueller?

Hollis: Where do you go after you've taken home a shit-load of Grammies? You tap an Oscar winner, Jamie Foxx—who isn't a singer, but plays one on the big screen—to guest on your album's lead single. ("Yeah, Jamie… What up, Kid. Kanye…. Yeah, cool. We're gonna lay down your vocal today. Oh—hey, remember to bring your Oscar…. Yo, bitch, just bring it.") Seriously, buy this album—if for no other reason than to thank Kanye for putting the same mystified look on Mike Meyers' face that I had on mine while trying to get through the Fat Bastard scenes in Goldmember. I don't know why Kanye's anti-Bush comments sent the world into a tizzy. After all, G.W.'s mom, Barbara, is at the forefront of crazy, old, white-haired bitches. Maybe that's how come they put Babs' picture on the one-dollar bill.


Hollis: Blues Traveler's formerly obese/newly thin frontman, John Popper, gave me an idea. I'm going to the hospital to have a procedure that reduces my stomach to the size of an egg, so that every time I try to swallow and digest shitty, derivative, blues-based, jag-off boogie music, I'll vomit it right back up. Hell, if Blues Traveler ever comes out with a boxed set, I might have to get in line behind John Popper at the hospital to have the unsightly folds in my belly skin lasered off because of all the weight I'd lose. Do yourself a favor. If you actually like this band (and choose not to seek psychiatric help), just take your favorite album by them, cross out its title and write in the title "Bastardos." Trust me, it's the same shit. Oh, yeah, and leave some room on the album cover so you can write in next year's album title too.

Dee Dee: In the beginning there was a group of men who came together to make music and god said, "It was good." They thought, "we'll mix in some jazz and blues beats and create what will come to be known as rock fusion." And it was good. They learned to play and challenged people to understand their sound. They were Steely Dan and they did not suck. What the fuck are a bunch of guys who don't know shit about blues or jazz doing with "blues" in their band name? Bastardos indeed.


DeeDee: Tracy, you want to know where I live? I live in an illegal sublet that precludes me from getting a loan to cover my credit card debt because I don't officially have an "address" to the government. Thank you again Patriot Act. Civil liberties? What are those? Who needs that pesky Right to Privacy thing? Wait…what were we talking about? Where I live? I know where you live, Tracy. You live in a white man's world that will never make you millions without looking over your shoulder because you don't look like Halle Berry. Your music doesn't totally suck though… Not totally…

Hollis: Hey, Tracy, you got a fast car. And it's going eighty miles-per-hour… straight into the toilet.

LIL' KIM: Naked Truth

DeeDee: Am I the only one who feels bad for Lil' Kim? When you have a legacy of lies under oath or otherwise being handed down straight from the White House about issue of national security and significance, why the fuck aren't you going to lie about some shit that happened in front of K-ROCK? And…she brought back big eyebrows. Come on!

Hollis: If Kim had used the "Truth" in more than just an album name, she wouldn't be stuck in a Federal Pen laundry room right now with five bull-dykes barking at her to get "Naked." She'll long for those halcyon days when the only female hands on her fake tits belonged to Diana Ross.

MICHAEL BOLTON: The End of Forever

Dee Dee: End of Forever? How 'bout the end of your fucking career, you ponytailed freak? "Forever" is what I feel when I get trapped in say the DMV and your "When A Man Loves a Women" comes on and every woman with thinning hair and a size 24 dress starts to fucking swoon. I hate you Michael Bolton. I fucking hate you. Just team up with Kenny G, put bamboo under my nails and make me watch my grandparents fuck. Jesus.

Hollis: You are Dr. Frankenstein. Your mission is to build a million-selling recording artist out of these spare and otherwise unwanted parts:

  • Celine Dion
  • A small penis
  • Long, stringy hair (thinning on top)
  • Little or no talent
  • A gimmicky voice

Okay, that's all. Go to work… Oh, wait—I almost forgot! Add white skin. Cue the cash registers!


Dee Dee Vega: Could someone please give Chris Martin some Prozac and an enema so he'll shut the fuck up?

Hollis James: Jesus, this shit is Gwyneth Paltrow set to music.


Hollis: I love Jack White, but he has the scariest facial hair since Michael Jackson.

Dee Dee: Fuck that! Jack's an industro-chic robot of cool. I don't care if he has cunt hair on his face.

Hollis: Jack's so good looking that he always has somebody's cunt hair on his face…

Dee Dee: While we're on this—Renee going from Jack to Kenny Chesney? Who the fuck is this guy? He looks like he ran away from an I.T. Department and stumbled into a Stetson store.

Hollis: Kenny Chesney answers the question, "What if David Spade joined a rodeo?"


Dee Dee: Why bother guys? Everyone in Jersey bought your last CD. They don't need to buy it again.

Hollis: You can't get that many consumers to "get retarded" twice, even consumers from Jersey.


Dee Dee: You mean, trapped in the water closet?

Hollis: I wouldn't cross the street to piss on this album.


Dee Dee: You stupid white fuck. You think you can whine on stage with a bunch of black guys to cover your ass and you won't still suck. Look in the mirror Dave. Go back to that barstool and microphone you never should have crawled out from behind.

Hollis: Finally, a band for people who find Phish too edgy.