Don’t call it a comeback, I’ve been just laying in wait of something bizarre/stupid/outrageous/absurd to come along deserving of my brand of commentary.

Leave it up to MTV to accommodate me.

So yeah, last night were the ’03 VMA’s. Well light a fire under my ass and call me enraged (or underwhelmed, based on the quality of the show). It seems like with each passing year, MTV, the ever-loving bastion of superficiality, the seemingly endless well of shallowness manages to outdo itself.

Y’know, I remember when this worthless network used to award videos deserving of recognition. I remember Sinead O’Connor’s “Nothing Compares 2 U,” R.E.M.’s “Losing My Religion,” Aerosmith’s “Cryin’,” Neil Young’s “This Note’s For You,” truly memorable videos that are hard to get out of your mind.

I’ve often criticized the music video genre. I’ve always felt that the blending of images and words, while novel and perhaps innocent in its conception, has managed to put style way over the top, burying substance to the point of no return. However, once in awhile, a video will come along that honestly blends images and words so beautifully, you cannot help but take notice. Sadly, more often than not these videos go unrecognized by the fine folks at Empty-V. See, it’s in the name of the award show itself. “VMA’s.” “Video Music Awards.” The “video” is placed before the “music.” The style comes before the substance. The image comes before the message. The song is secondary, case closed. I could write and record the next What’s Going On?, but if I don’t have a sufficient video for my first single, I’ll never get a second glance from MTV, and my art won’t see the light of day on their network. That’s why so many great videos go tragically unnoticed.

Case in point: a nice piece of work like Stone Sour’s video for “Bother” went completely unacknowledged, and was barely played on the network. Still, if you’ve seen the video, you know what I’m talking about. Corey Taylor singing this sad but beautiful song of lament to a rapidly aging version of himself. Simple, yet effective. It gets the message across beautifully. Yet no one really cares.

Similarly, I think Metallica’s video for “St. Anger” deserved some props. Props that were not received. Criticize the album if you will, but you’d be hard pressed to deny that the video, filmed at San Quentin, fit the theme of the song nicely. However, the video was only nominated for one bleeding award that was given to Linkin Park, a two-bit flash in the pan at best. And don’t give me the argument that the nominees are decided based on airplay, because according to a recent article on CNN.com, it would appear that one of the nominees for video of the year was played less than ten times on MTV itself.

I’m speaking of course about Johnny Cash’s video for “Hurt.” If this video doesn’t affect you in some way, check for a pulse, because you’re probably dead. It’s fraught with emotion, and if it doesn’t evoke some kind of emotional response from you, be it sorrow, pain, anything, then you’re missing the big picture. Let’s look at the other nominees:

“Cry Me A River” by Justin Timberlake. I’ll give this guy some credit since he’s managed to make a successful leap from cardboard cutout pre-packaged pop to some relatively solid R&B. The video features him making out with a girl, arguing with a girl, dancing around, and singing while water floods his surroundings. Not really a bad song, but hardly a memorable video.

“In Da Club” by 50 Cent. How this guy made it is mystifying to me. I attribute it all to his partner in crime, Eminem. Without his name in the liner notes and his face in the videos, 50 probably wouldn’t be where he is today, and you know what? That’s just fine with me. I honestly can’t figure out what the big deal about this guy is. I don’t think he’s a terribly talented rapper, not on the level of an Eminem or a Tupac. His video is him working out and partying. Well, sans the working out bit, that’s every rap video today. See, that’s the thing. 50 is in serious need of some Band-Aids, ‘cause he’s all cut up. Moreover, his tough guy image and bulletproof vest make him a sure thing in da “Image is Everything” club.

“Lose Yourself” by Eminem. Granted, a great song. My flirtation with hip hop ended with MC Hammer, but to be truthful, there have been some noteworthy luminaries in the genre. To me, the legends are Run DMC, Public Enemy, NWA, Dr. Dre, Snoop Dogg, Tupac, and Eminem. End of story. No more, no less. I think this is Em’s best song to date, but not his best video. It’s just a medley of images from 8 Mile intertwined with him rapping. Fair enough, great promotional tool, better song. Not his best video. I think something like “Cleaning Out My Closet” would be much more appropriate for this nomination, since it’s a good strong blend of imagery and lyrics. So while I (surprisingly) give credit to the man, I don’t feel this video is deserving of the nomination, let alone the award.

“Work It” by Missy Elliott. A new, improved, Trim-Spa imbued Missy Elliott dances, raps, and works the turntables while covered in bees. To me, the most memorable thing about this video is the recurring image of the old, fat-ass Missy. All the lipo in the world still can’t repair that Mr. Ed-like horseface of hers. Once again, like 50, I don’t get it, don’t see the point, don’t know why it even deserves to be nominated.

Meanwhile, Johnny Cash’s thoughtful, emotional treatment of Nine Inch Nails’ “Hurt” went home with one award that wasn’t even presented on the program. Best Cinematography. Well big whoop. Lets piss away all the poignant, emotional value of the video and award it for its technical merits. Screw the song, respect the tech. And that, my friends, is Empty-V for ya. Style over substance, now and forever. We reached a point of no return in 1999 with the insurrection of cookie cutter pop and bling-bling-pass-the-Cristal-fuck-ya-hoes hip hop. There’s no looking back. Those of us salivating for musical substance are up Shit Creek without a paddle. Welcome to 2003, can I take your coat?

As for memorable moments, well the one that everyone is talking about is the opening segment. Madonna, Britney Spears, and Christina Aguilera, paying homage to the Material Hack’s first-ever VMA performance, replete with oversized wedding cake and bustier-style wedding dresses on the juniors. But it wasn’t just that, it was the open mouth kiss Madonna planted on each of her young protégés.

Meanwhile, Timberlake is in the audience thinking, “I can’t believe my ex kissed Madonna before me.”

But see, this is where the VMAs are consistently coming up short. Their live performances. To me, the last great live performances were U2 at the ’01 VMAs, and Kid Rock, Run DMC, and Aerosmith at the ’99 awards. Memorable moments beyond live performances are getting few and far between, save Tim C. from Rage storming the stage back in 2000. Very little since has raised an eye. I was shocked when Metallica was announced to be playing. “Holy shit, a band that has some relevance in our musical culture! What will they think of next?” For the record, I dug their performance. It was a side of them we don’t see often, and a nice little homage to some of the better artists of the MTV generation. That, and ya can’t go wrong with “Frantic, tick, tick, tick, tick, tick, tock.”

But for the most part, when it comes to live performances, those folks at MTV now have to rely on absurd schlock like last night’s embarrassing opening display, or nostalgic wistfulness like last year’s “big” performance by the new and not-so-improved Guns N’ Roses. The motivation for all three women in last night’s bisexual moment of the year was similar to Axl Rose’s motivation last year. The motivation is, “what’s best for me?”

Let’s travel into the minds of these four headcases:

Axl: “Well, the world tour is coming up, we need some publicity, otherwise people aren’t even gonna know that there is a GNR anymore. Better take those folks at MTV up on their offer and stir the shit a little bit.”

Madonna: “My career is flagging, I’ve been branded an anti-American, my new album tanked, my last movie tanked, and my new GAP commercial is an embarrassment. Better reprise the wedding cake bit with Britney and Christina and stir the shit a little bit.”

Britney: “Well, I’ve been outta the limelight for a good year now, everyone knows I’m not a virgin anymore, and my ex-boyfriend is enjoying success that is nothing short of a slap in the face to me. Better take Madonna up on her offer for the wedding cake/kiss bit and stir the shit a little.”

Christina: “I’ve been labeled a whore, a sellout, a skank, everyone hates me, my album is faltering in sales, no one will take me seriously, I’m a joke. Better take Madonna up on her offer for the wedding cake/kiss bit and stir the shit a little.”

See, the line of thinking here is no different than Michael Jackson’s when he kissed Lisa Marie Presley at the awards some years ago. “What can I do that will benefit me? How can I use the VMA’s as a podium to promote me?” Egotism at its most rampant, ladies and gentlemen.

I’m sure millions of red-blooded American males have developed an everlasting hard-on since last night’s display, and I applaud them for showing that their peckers work proper. Nevertheless, I will remember the display less for its sex appeal and more for the sheer shallowness of the intentions.

Meanwhile, Johnny Cash spent last night in the hospital with a stomach ailment. I’m glad he wasn’t at the live show, because I would’ve been personally insulted to be lumped in with the rest of these “winners.”

I’ll also give credit to Timberlake for at least mentioning the man. His nominations were grossly under-acknowledged by the producers, and they should be ashamed of themselves. For a guy the magnitude of Timberlake to give credit to Cash, that proves him to be a class act in many ways, and to that effect, I have a newfound respect for the man. Humility, when genuine, never goes unrecognized.

So another VMA has passed, and most of us have probably learned nothing. I’m resentful over the fact that I killed my Thursday night watching just to see Metallica perform, and to see Johnny Cash get his dues. And I only got half of that combination. I don’t want my MTV, I want my Thursday night back. In fact, I want the last 20 years back. The only real “triumphs” to MTV’s credit are, in my eyes, Guns N’ Roses, U2, and the Seattle Explosion of the early 90’s. I hate to say it, but without the music video, there’s a relatively good chance that those artists may have gone unnoticed, so I have MTV to thank for that at least. The rest has been 20 solid years of soft fluff. Think about it, how many one-hit wonders has MTV spoonfed and provided us over the years? Not since the golden days of disco have so many artists pissed away 15 minutes of fame. A few diamonds in the rough do not make for a legacy, they make for a hype machine.

MTV has degenerated to a cultural burp. Their waning influence is noted by the fact that TRL no longer has all the top artists on its countdown. Where were Godsmack and Disturbed on TRL? How about Audioslave or Evanescence? They all had albums that made into Billboard’s Top Ten. What? They’re not MTV material? Let MTV2 cover those bands? Better yet, leave them as debris for Fuse to gobble up? But I thought MTV had a thumb on the pulse of all things music. Well that thumb is slipping rapidly. Why else do you think that they were charging 99 cents a call to vote for the Viewer’s Choice Award last night?

I could go on and on, but I’m already up to four full pages of rant in Microsoft Word, so as I end this post, I give you some thought-provoking lyrics by one of my favorite bands, Dream Theater.

Goodnight, and have a pleasant tomorrow.

Just Let Me Breathe
By Dream Theater

Open your eyes
And turn off your mind.
Step right up folks
And you will find
A growing trend,
An epidemic
Spread with Zen
And hypodermics, yeah.

Just close your mind,
You can find all you need with your eyes.

The big machines take care of you
Until you kill yourself,
And then the sales go through the roof,
Calculated, formulated.
Feed my head with simple thoughts
And let me breathe instead of being taught.
All bottled up and tearing at the seams,
I’m bored.
Just let me breathe.

A daily dose of eMpTyV
Will flush your mind right down the drain.
Shannon Hoon and Kurt Cobain,
Make yourself a household name, yeah, yeah.

Just close your mind,
You can find all you need with your eyes.

The big machines take care of you
Until you kill yourself,
And then the sales go through the roof,
Calculated, formulated.
Feed my head with simple thoughts
And let me breathe instead of being taught.
All bottled up and tearing at the seams,
I’m bored.
Just let me breathe.

Strike up your best angst-ridden posture,
Manufactured angler.
Let’s not forget my legacy,
All my heroes have failed me.
Now they’re dead and buried, yeah.

Just close your mind,
You can find all you need with your eyes.

The big machines will take care of you
Until the fashion fades
And the checks go through.
My bankroll’s red
And my face is blue,
And still they’ll turn their backs on me for someone new.

Feed my head
With some real thoughts,
And let me think instead
Of being taught.
I’ll say things
You won’t believe.
Just stand back,
Just let me breathe…

Incoming!

Checking in for just a second of my precious summer time to let you know about my new passion, the Lyrical Hotbed, where you can find my all-time favorite song lyrics. Once more, thanks go out to Maggie for the inspiration. You're alright, kiddo.

Here's what to expect when I do return (which oughta be relatively soon): a rant on the Kiss Army, and a commentary on the current state of guitar in today's musical scene.

And with that, I bid you adieu.

Outgoing!

Goodnight, and have a pleasant tomorrow.