Schade, dass ich gestern nicht live gesehen habe, wie “Superstar“-Moderatoren-Darsteller Carsten Spengemann mal so richtig aufs Maul gekriegt hat. So bleibt nur Briefmarkengröße auf der RTL-Website. Trotzdem ein großer Spaß! Tatort: “RTL Promi Boxen 2“. Täter: Detlef “D!” Soost. Bilder: hier. Beim dritten “Event”, bei dem sich C- und D-Klasse-Promis verprügeln, muss ich wohl wieder dabei sein ;-)
“Spiegel TV“-Berichte über insolvente Unternehmen machen keinen Spaß. Geht unser Land unter?
Vor ein paar Tagen ist in den USA eine meiner absoluten Lieblings-Serien der vergangenen Jahre zu Ende gegangen: “Dawson’s Creek“. Die Serie war anders als all die meist extrem flachen Teenie-Serien. “Dawson’s Creek” hatte authentischere Charaktere, die nicht alle Super-Jobs und Massen an Geld hatten. Und “Dawson’s Creek” hatte realistischere Geschichten mit echten Emotionen. Und nicht zu vergessen: “Dawson’s Creek” hatte eine Hand voll tatsächlich talentierter Hauptdarsteller, die inzwischen auch alle in größeren Kinofilmen zu sehen waren. Und so hat die letzte (zweistündige) Doppelfolge “All good things…” “…must come to an end”. nochmal alles geboten, was die Serie so gut gemacht hat. Angesiedelt fünf Jahre nach der drittletzten Folge kamen die fünf Capeside-Freunde zusammen, um eine Hochzeit zu feiern und tränenreich Abschied von einer Hauptfigur zu nehmen. Außerdem: die endgültige Entscheidung von Joey Potter zwischen Dawson und Pacey. Und ein Ende, das vieles zeigt, aber auch genügend Offenheit hinterlässt. Der popkulturjunkie nimmt mit einer Träne im Auge Abschied von Joey, Dawson, Pacey, Jen und Jack. Und freut sich, vor allem die extrem süße Katie Holmes in hoffentlich noch vielen Filmen wiederzusehen.
“Weißt du, was ich manchmal denke? Es müsste immer Musik da sein. Bei allem was du machst. Wenn’s so richtig scheiße ist, dann ist wenigstens noch die Musik da. Und an der Stelle wo’s am allerschönsten ist, da müsste die Platte springen und du hörst immer nur diesen einen Moment.” (Floyd / “Absolute Giganten” (bester deutscher Film überhaupt.))
Worüber ich mich freue: 1. Das großartige Tomte–Album ist auf 50 in die deutschen Charts eingestiegen (die haben’s sowas von verdient!). 2. Bald kommt das neue Blackmail–Album raus (einen Vorgeschmack auf die tolle Single in Form eines miesen Video-Streams gibt’s hier). 3. Der NME hat das ebenfalls großartige Maximilian-Hecker–Album besprochen und ihm sensationelle 8 von 10 Punkten gegeben (NME: In the first three minutes, a lovelorn Hecker bemoans how he’s spent seven days without a glance from Kate Moss. But if the former busker has something of the stalker about him, he’s not one of those men who have bad fringes and still live with their mum. “Rose”, Hecker’s second LP, is as beautiful and barbed as the flower itself and proves that sinister can also be suave and beautiful. While his sexless Germanic vocals threaten to get smothered in drippy melancholy, he’s wise enough to ease off with the string quartets as things progress, transmuting his snail pace into the kind of pin-drop quiet electro Fischerspooner would make after a pint of heroin. Lovely. 8/10. Dan Martin.). Darüber freue ich mich.
Zwei (bzw. vier) Tage ohne Redaktionsstress. Endlich diese verschleppte Erkältung auskurieren. Lesen. Großartigste Musik hören. Sonne auf den Bauch scheinen lassen. In den kommenden Tagen gibt’s hier die große popkulturjunkie-album-review-galore. Es ist so verdammt viel geniale Musik herausgekommen in den letzten Wochen. Und die will ich Euch nicht vorenthalten.
The Dead Rock Star
by Marilyn Manson
Jesus was the first rock star. The cross is the biggest, greatest piece of merchandise in history, bigger than any concert T-Shirt. And Jesus was the first dead rock star. Like Jim Morrison and Kurt Cobain and Jimi Hendrix, he became immortal by dying. A dead rock star becomes perfect, and he’ll be that forever. He’ll never change, never get old, never turn into something less great than at his peak, at the moment of his death.
It’s not just death that turns you into an icon. It’s how many people are watching when you die, and the way the camera can turn you into a martyr. I had a song on my last record called “Lamb of God” about just that. It was inspired by Jesus, John Lennon and John Kennedy. We’re not just fascinated with death. We’re in love with death, because we’re so afraid of it. And the people who live their lives close to death, or who die tragically, are the ones we’re going to fantasize about the most. It is escapism, it’s voyeurism, it’s escapism, it’s voyeurism, it’s living vicariously. Or dying vicariously.
Jim Morrison had a shamen quality to him; he was a shirtless Christlike figure. He was inspiring. He bought darkness into the mainstream, right in the middle of the Summer of Love. He did and said what he wanted, and he behaved like a child, which is admirable and beautiful. I have Jim Morrison to thank for making me want to write, and for making me want to take acid, and for making me want to expose myself in Florida.
I remember reading “No One Here Gets Out Alive” when I was in the tenth grade, and that made me want to write. I have always, since I was a fourteen years old, written thing in my journals, and have always been very protective of things that I put down in paper. I have a hard time committing my personal feelings and my deepest, darkest secrets to a place where someone will be able to obtain them.
Morrison’s enduring strength as a historical figure is in his mystery. I think the modern, contemporary treatment of rock stars on MTV and the voyeuristic world of reality TV are a great threat to anyone who wants to retain any sort of value throughout history. My whole life, I have tried to steer clear from “behind the scenes” things. They take away from the power of what you do. If you start explaining your tricks, then you are a shitty magician. I’m watching all these other people piss away what could be great works of art by going on “Cribs”. You can be legendary for not doing anything because of this voyeuristic culture that we live in. You can be famous for “surviving” something, or for marrying a millionaire, or for being a victim of a crime. It’s a strange time that we are in now.
With Jim Morrison, it’s the dark sexual element. You want to grow up to be like him. With Kurt Cobain, it’s about relating to his pain and understanding how close death’s door is. When I was just about to start a band in 1989, I was still a journalist, and I got a promo pack from Sub Pop records with Bleach and a black-and-white glossy photo of Nirvana. There was something really dark and alluring about the record. And that feeling hits you every time you hear one of their songs. You can hear a tear in his voice, the pain going on there.
When Cobain died, no one was very much surprised. I was disappointed, but I think a part of me was relieved because it seemed like he was suffering so much in the last years of his life, and his suffering was over, if anything. He despised being the rock star he ended up being. But like Morrison and Hendrix, he was proof that the most amazing art comes from people who are living their lives like there is no tomorrow.
Sonntage haben ja manchmal schon was. Viel Zeit zu lesen, zum Beispiel. Vor allem, wenn das Wetter so kacke ist wie diesmal. Auf dem popkulturjunkie-Sonntags-Programm daher: die neuen Ausgaben von “Frankfurter Allgemeine Sonntagszeitung“, “Spex“, “Intro“, “IQ Style“, “Visions” und “Planet Movie“. Haben manchmal schon was, solche Sonntage…
