Ne-Yo's year, yet again
Much like his previous two releases, Gentleman is stuffed with unyielding love songs that Ne-Yo writes effortlessly.
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Much like his previous two releases, Gentleman is stuffed with unyielding love songs that Ne-Yo writes effortlessly.
“Entertainment.” “Oh, so you mean like celebrities, Britney Spears and Hollywood stuff?” That’s basically the gist of many conversations I’ve had throughout the past year since I began writing as a columnist here at the Indiana Daily Student. It really takes too much time for me to explain to people that when I say I cover “entertainment” stories, I don’t mean celebrities. And thus, my problem.
Cory Barker discusses the new TV season.
At times, year seven of our peek at Superman before he dawns the cape had some of the best story lines in the show’s 152 episode run, but also some of the very worst.
The title for Gym Class Heroes’ new album couldn’t be more fitting. The Quilt feels patched together with both solid and weak material. It doesn’t fall apart from the seams, but it sure won’t win any awards for overall strength.
The world could have quite literally ended Wednesday morning, and chances are you had no idea anything deadly was even happening. A doomsday situation involving a global catastrophe or the appearance of an enormous black hole was actually possible. But again, you more than likely had no clue about any of this. It’s extremely disappointing that the majority of the mainstream media glossed over the fact that scientists flipped on the largest, most powerful particle-blaster in history 100 meters underground early Wednesday morning.
“The Office” is easily one of the best comedies on TV, and even a weak season still trumps almost everything else.on the air.
Lost in the Sound of Separation is a watermark for any other band in the metalcore genre and absolutely Underoath’s best work to date. They’ve clearly weathered internal storms and separated themselves from everyone else.
Instead of perusing the completely charted waters of heavy production, Valencia have concocted 11 tracks oozing with raw emotion. Believe is jam-packed with soaring hooks and thumping guitar work without being overly poppy.
Although the film’s R rating allows for a fair amount of nudity, swear words and attempted sexual innuendos, “College” is simply not funny. The film should be titled “Middle School,” because those in that age group have to be the only people who enjoy this.
For a weekly television series based on five hours of film (the show thankfully ignores “T3”), “Chronicles” is a refreshing, honest addition to the “Terminator” mythos. In the first season the show covers a lot of ground, including stopping Skynet, Terminators with non-killing missions, and how John deals with his destiny.
Although Wilson and his co-stars seem like they care about their performances, nothing in “The Rocker” is remotely memorable. The plot is predictable and paper-thin; none of the jokes really hit; and clichés about the rock-n-roll lifestyle are everywhere. Just like many of his TV cohorts, Rainn Wilson’s first headlining film is a far fall from his work on television. It’s not that “The Rocker” is overly awful or that Wilson doesn’t have the chops to carry a film on his own, it’s just that we all know he can do much better.
Early in this decade, no label had more momentum than Drive-Thru Records. Many of the bands that were first in the pop-punk trend came from Drive-Thru, including New Found Glory, The Starting Line and Midtown. At the height of their success, the label’s brass concocted Rushmore Records in an attempt to get some creative power back from Geffen, who had been snatching up their talent. One of the first signees to Rushmore was The Mile After; but after a year, the band parted ways with the whole Rushmore/Drive-Thru family and Rushmore ended up folding. Now almost two years later, The Mile After have finally released their debut full-length, Armada.
In case you haven’t heard, the Summer Olympics officially begin this Friday in Beijing. Chances are you have heard all about this year’s games, but you don’t really care. You might claim to care during group conversations or to hold on to some novel idea of patriotism, but you don’t really care because most of the sports bore you and in the month of August there are better things to do than watch air rifle competitions.
For the last few years, on-the-cusp music acts have been salivating to make it on a certain soundtrack. But surprisingly, the platform they’ve all been clamoring for isn’t a brand-new TV show or a blockbuster movie. Instead, it’s a video game: Madden NFL Football.
This week, Dayton, Ohio’s Hawthorne Heights will release a new album. Chances are the album, “Fragile Future,” will be mediocre pop/rock at best that won’t raise much fuss except for the Hot Topic set, and even those fans might be long gone. The band has fallen hard and fast since late 2005 and early 2006, when they were at the forefront of the scene.
My Favorite Highway’s knack for unspooling glimmering pop/rock ditties is fairly flawless on their debut full-length How To Call A Bluff. One would hope it’d be enough to get some record label attention, but the band seems to be doing more than fine on their own.
In the past, Comic-Con International, held in San Diego each summer, was known as sort of a geek haven. It was a place where the subject of mainstream’s disdain could feel safe because they were surrounded by their own. Generally, it was simply known as one of the larger conventions for a bunch of geeks to dress up in costumes and get their comics autographed by high-profile scribes.
Picture this scene: an extravagantly beautiful amphitheater filled with the most gorgeous TV stars, all spiffed up in their most dapper red-carpet garb. Imagine that it’s all an award show. For kicks, let’s call it the Emmys, which supposedly honor the best from TV.
With Can’t Stop, Won’t Stop, The Maine deliver what they should: simple, catchy pop songs about girls and young life. None of the members are that great of musicians, nor do the songs surprise whatsoever, but they have that something that propels bands into stardom. After a few listens, damn near very track sticks in your head much like sugary taffy sticks to your teeth.