Alert the media. Wait, we are the media. Umm, then, here’s an alert! I am admitting that I was completely wrong about something. Yeah, that’s right. I was wrong. So there. I was convinced I would despise this season’s Rock Star. I turned it on with loathing in my soul. I came away not being able to satiate my need for more more more. This season? Rocks the friggin casbah!
I was all set to write about Kathy Griffin’s D-List but I had to put it on the back burner. This column is just bursting out of me.
Let’s start with the judges, aka, the rock stars. Tommy Lee? HOT. Very full of himself but also very talented. As long as he doesn’t go back to college, he’ll be less annoying and more entertaining. Gilby Clark? Very Halloweenish but also talented. Anyone as a lead singer has got to be better than Axl. Jason Newsted? A bit hot and a bit Halloweenish. A pity that he left Metallica when he did but the haircut makes him look much better. That gives us ¾ of the new Supernova. First off, a rockin name for a rock band. It’s got that arrogance about it with the word Super in it. Plus, it fits the show because a supernova is a star. Hence, rock star. Yes, I overanalyze. And Supernova just sounds so cool. As Sebastian Bach would say, it rolls off the tongue.
And now for the hosts. Dave Navarro spends more money on cosmetics in a day than I spend on rent, food, gas, and cable television a month. Still, Dave Navarro? HOT. In that freakish kind of way. He’s got a great personality and is so comfortable as a host. He lounges around in his big arm chair, holding the mic as if he were holding a cigar, and he rocks out of his chair when the music pumps.
Then there’s Brooke. Brooke was great when she did that show Wild On and played the party girl. Now something’s missing. I think that something is booze. She tries to be exciting and rowdy, but falls short. She’s very much like the robotic host from Top Chef. With better fashion sense for the most part. I have no clue what her outfit was all about on the premiere episode. It was a glitter sack.
The wannabe lead singers this year are just as crazy and rockin as they were last year. Instead of being die-hard INXS fans, they are die-hard rock fans. Big difference. Now it’s not about loving one band — it’s about loving lots of bands, starting with Motley Crue, Metallica, and Guns N Roses, in that order. If Motley weren’t first, Tommy Lee would walk off the show. The nasty American Idol idea of song choice is now ringing through Rock Star too, but in a very dark and hard rockin way.
Speaking of American Idol, Rock Star has its own Ryan Star. He sucks too as a rocker so it may as well be the same Ryan. Neither one would make it here.
Some female contestants are taking to flirting with the guys in the band. Haven’t they heard the tragic stories of Gwen Stefani through the lyrics of (the worst song of all time) “Don’t Speak” that warns against in-band flings? Do they want to be the next Yoko? Okay, so Yoko wasn’t actually in The Beatles, but I bet she thought she was. Her solo albums make for some great party entertainment, by the way.
I can’t talk about Rock Star without mentioning the house band, House Band. I know that Carrie wouldn’t let me get away with it. As she’ll tell you in her recaps of Rock Star which you should go read immediately, House Band is a fantastic band. They arrange, learn, and play so many different songs every week. On the first show, they played about three or four different types of rock from Goo Goo Dolls to Coldplay to The Who to Nirvana. Sure that’s all rock but it’s different kinds of rock. Goo Goo Dolls actually do rock more than many people know—most of their singles are pop but they put on a heavy live show. Coldplay I’m not so sure about. In any case, House Band plays without a problem. They totally support each contestant on stage also. At least with the lead singers who remember that there’s a band back there. That’s something that they all should watch for because Tommy, Gilby, and Jason probably won’t stand for being ignored.
Aside from the music, the best thing on Rock Star is the banter. Why? Because it consists of only rock star vocabulary sans cursing. Here’s a typical conversation on rock star after a contestant has sung:
[b]Dave Navarro[/b]: [i]lounging in an armchair with a leg over the side[/i] That was bad ass man!
[b]Singer[/b]: Thanks, brother.
[b]Jason Newstead[/b]: Killer, brother.
[b]Singer[/b]: Right on, man.
[b]Gilby[/b]: That was insane, dude! [i]runs hands through own hair and headbangs once more[/i]
[b]Tommy[/b]: Ridiculous, bro. Friggin ridiculous!
[b]Dave Navarro[/b]: Kick ass. So kick ass.
[b]Record Company Exec[/b]: Your voice sounded great through the microphone. That’s something we look for. Good job.
[b]Singer[/b]: Oh, man, thanks. Appreciate that.
[b]Dave Navarro[/b]: Cool.
[b]Jason[/b]: Rockin. [i]gives devil horns[/i]
[b]Brooke Burke[/b] [i]sounding like the teacher sounded on the Peanuts cartoon)[/i]: wah wah wah wah wah Rock Star wah wah wah wah wah Supernova wah wah. Dave?
[b]Dave Navarro[/b]: Insane, baby.
[b]Tommy[/b]: Thanks, sweetie. [i]drops the microphone because he can no longer stand just how cool he is[/i]
One of these things is not like the other. But he’s the one that can get you the deal so they put up with him and his lack of rocker tattoos and piercings.
[b]And THIS is why I love reality TV [/b]: It gives unfound talent a chance, a real chance, to meet their idols, play for a crowd, and live out the dream they’ve had forever. Look at JD Fortune. INXS has had a hell of a year. Supernova probably will too. For one of the contestants, they’ll enjoy the ride too.
Since I was old enough to understand what music was, I’ve been fascinated with it. The rhythm. The tone. The melody. The harmony. The beat. The lyrics. The way it can make the pictures on the wall shift and the porcelain statues in glass display cases vibrate when turned up to beyond the so-called maximum volume. I also adored my brother, who I saw as a rock god, even though the only instruments he played were trumpet, baritone, and air guitar. I grew up thinking that hard rock was the only music worth listening to. That and big hair bands. My box of memories is littered with old ticket stubs from Def Leppard, Bon Jovi (every year, twice a year baby!), Poison (every year at Jones Beach baby!), Warrant, Cinderella, U2, Aerosmith, Tommy from The Who, and Debbie Gibson. Okay, so maybe that last one doesn’t fit in here, but you know what I’m saying.
Then, last year, I finally dated a rock star. A guy with his own band. He played at The Knitting Factory. People sang and cheered. I was mesmerized. I was living out my childhood dream. And then that dream quickly faded as I realized he was entering his 40s and still had only aspirations with not much else while I was quickly becoming his fellow couch potato. Eight months later, ten pounds heavier, I ditched him.
However, that has not killed my love of music. Now that Rock Star is back, I can dream once again.
Wanna rock out? Email me: Christina@realityshack.com or read all about my eight month lust affair with the lead singer at http://christinamrau.blogspot.com. And then read all about the Rock Star details in Carrie’s recaps.