Danity Kane Listening Party

Making the Band 3 is in its third season on MTV and the ladies of Danity Kane: Aubrey, Aundrea, Shannon, Dawn, & Wanitam are everywhere. Tonight Diddy hosted a listening party for the group in a quaint studio tucked in a low-key area of Los Angeles. The party brought media and artists alike out to enjoy the melodic tunes of the new group as well as an opportunity for the ladies to schmooze attendees with their charming personalities.

I’m still getting my feet wet in these types of settings. I am used to being backstage or in VIP, but this whole media industry aspect is a new way of life for me. So, I decided to make friends. I get engaged in a conversation with two reporters (one from US Weekly and the other from People), and a publicist. The topic: Star Jones’ untimely departure from the View.

I was the only one to admit that I think Star was railroaded and profusely hated on by the media and cast members. I mean come on, everything was fine when Star was the fat, black, single woman without a cause. Day in and day out playing "mammy" while successfully moderating the show. She gets a man, looses a bit of weight and then turns into the female version of Godzilla. I think that media spoon fed the public these negative images of a once successful prosecuting attorney turned desperate fag-hag. Since I began watching the show, back when Debbie Matenopoulos would trip over every word out of her mouth, Star did what she was there to do. I guess in America you can't step out of the "stereotypical" image that everyone else chooses to identify you with; Star Jones is a perfect example of that.

Rosie O'Donnell started this mess. She talks shit about how she doesn't like the fact Star didn't reveal her true method for weight loss. Get a grip, we don't need to know all of that, just like we don't need to know all of the details in your life. All and all, the other two journalists disagreed with me. I support Star, no matter if she thinks Payless shoes are marketable. (This is something Star will have to stand alone on) heheheee.

My counter argument is always shunned though. The People journalist pointed out Star's abuse of the spotlight. She accused the former-host of using the show to try and get free gifts for her wedding, which in turn ruined chances for any of the guests to plug products or upcoming events on the show. Is that a crime? I think Angelina Jolie selling her baby pictures to donate the money to charity is just as bad. But no one will side with me on that one. I don't know, I think that if the media likes you, so does the rest of America. (So people beware, stay on my good side)

I quickly got out of that "celebrity gossip" circle and nestled up with some of my favorite people to party with, the guys.

As I mingled throughout the crowd I noticed several videographers surveying the scene with their cameras and gaffers following close behind. A couple of the male attendees asked me what they were filming for. Never at a lost for words I quickly made reference to the fact that the girls are cable TV stars and it was probably for their reality show. Sure enough, that turned out to be true.

A short while later the party started to jump off. The music was pumping and drinks were flowing. The big surprise was the host of the night was the man, the fabulous, the accomplished Diddy. When Diddy arrived the small setting of about 40 people turned into a media frenzy. There were camera’s snapping and people vying for a chance to be photographed with him. Hey, what the –? Isn’t this a party for the girls? Well, when you have a mega-star there like Sean Combs you kind of forget what the whole reason for the existence of your life; well maybe it's just me. I stood there waiting for my photo op, but I didn't have anyone with me to snap the shot. Unfortunately, I had to turn to the journalist who I was just going head-to-head with. Unenthusiastically, she agreed to get the shot of Diddy and I.

He thanked everyone for coming out to support the event and then he brought out Dainty Kane. Diddy has done it again; put together something from nothing. MTV’s Making the Band 3 has produced five beautiful girls with interchangeable weaves…no, just kidding. The multicultural group of young women that he mistakenly referred to (several times) as “the girls” beamed with excitement as they posed for pictures. They were in reality TV mode the entire time; he has trained them well.

Listening to the album blast through the speakers I noticed something, the girls didn’t sound half bad. As a matter of fact, they belted out sounds with confidence. The sound was poppy, doused with hip-hop rhythm and a new-school bluesy feel. The beats were amazing. Producers like Timbaland and Dark Child (Rodney Jerkins) stepped up to assist the group with unique sure-hit tracks.

What I can't say for sure is what market Danity Kane is more likely to penetrate. While I enjoyed the tracks that I heard, I don’t know what demographic they plan to target to push listeners to go out and cop the album. I would assume that people who follow the show are more likely to support it: like I did as a big fan of Making the Band 2. The whole deal is, there is a chance for these ladies. I’d have to hear a few more singles to determine what rating to give it exactly, but for now I’d say two stars out of four. The ladies personalities and kick-ass figures stand out far more than their songs. Instead of branding these ladies as too hot for TV, we can say Danity Kane may be too hot for CD.

Crank

Looking for action, sex, and murder? Well Crank may be just what you need to get that fix. Lionsgate presents, a Tom Rosenberg film, starring Jason Stratham as Chev, a professional killer whose life is on a ticker with little time left after being poisoned during his sleep. The opening scene is intense and the director uses frenetic high-speed editing to jump-start the pace that will continue throughout the film. This style of editing can be used effectively, but in Crank it was used too much. The entire film turns into a high-speed freakfest.

Not only is the editing of the film overdone, the acting is unnatural. After making it out of bed, down the stairs and to the VCR, Chev witnesses himself being "murdered" on his own television. He is determined to kill bad boy Ricky Verona (Jose Cantillo), who injected him with this foreign slow-killing poison. Luckily Chev has a personal relationship with his doctor, (they’re on a first name basis) and he is able to contact him in Las Vegas for tips on an antidote. This is when he finds out that he must keep his heart pumping to the maximum speed in order to counter act the poison before it overrides his system and stops his heart. That is where Crank kicks into overdrive.

Chev engages in high-speed car chases and rumbles in the jungle taking viewers for a crazy ride. There's even an obscene sex scene with his girlfriend Eve (Amy Smart) in front of hundreds of Chinese shoppers in the middle of LA’s China Town. Who writes this shit?

The film shows the diversity of the Los Angeles streets, as Chev has a reason to stop in every neighborhood in Southern California. I loved the scene where he walks into a black-owned strip club and put his gun to the owner head demanding information on Verona. The owner is calm, (as is everyone who meets up with Chev) and order his henchmen to lower their weapons while repeatedly stating, “The white man is cool.” It was punch lines like this that made the film down right corny.

There are parts that are going to spark interest with the audience. Google Earth is cleverly used to navigate this high-speed pursuit. The score is also slamming with throwback tracks from Easy E and rock-n-roll bangers used when the time was fit. Another interesting aspect of the film was the “Brady Bunch” style scene integration used during intense phone conversations. While shots like these were clever, it still gives you more work to do while trying to relax and follow an already confusing picture.

Although the film in and of itself is complicated and over-dramatized, Crank does have the potential to become a cult classic. There's a surprise ending that balances out the energy of the film. And because the film is so outlandish you might find yourself laughing out loud as well. If you like unrealistic Terminator type flicks, this may be the movie for you.

Waist "NOT" Deep

Ok lets start out by saying this movie was a complete disaster. From the elementary script to poor lighting, the film did little to leave the audience in suspense.

Waist Deep, starring (Tyrese Gibson) O2, (Meagan Good) Coco, and introducing The Game as Meat, had me up in arms ever since I saw the previews months ago. The movie appears to be your average Bonnie and Clyde flick with blood, money, and sex to push it all through. Waist Deep fails to deliver on all three. The R rating had to be implemented for the senseless murder and rage that was acted out in almost every scene; beginning with the opening credits.

O2 is a self-proclaimed good father whose sole purpose in the film is to show the world that he is a good dad and he’s worthy of his son Junior’s trust. After an unfortunate car jacking with Junior fast asleep in the back-seat, O2 is sent on a murderous rampage that leaves dozens dead, maimed or worse. In the midst of the entire murderously bloody rampage, O2 finds love with a beautiful street hustler, Coco who had a pimp to answer to at the end of her daily shifts. I mean she was gorgeous; and her job was parading up and down the “streets of the ghetto” selling men’s suits. After being accused by O2 for the kidnapping/car-jacking, Coco pledges her honor and love to help get Junior back.

Ok, that’s as far as I’m going to go with the synopsis of the movie. You can probably guess what happens from here. Meat of course, is the kidnapper and the story has a few twists in it that makes one sit there a bit longer just to see if they’d figured out the plot and ending correctly. All and all this film set us back fifteen years: right back into the explosive popularity of ‘hood films. I mean Menace II Society was understandable, given that things like killing over cheeseburgers was a reality in the early 90’s; but this shit was ridiculous.

There was one scene where O2 and Coco drive through what appears to be the Jungles, (a ghetto of South Los Angeles) and on one short block there were young girls shooting dice, a group of 'brothas jumping one guy, and all of Bebe’s kids chasing their car down squirting it with Super Soakers. It was a mess.

In an attempt to drop a message, protestors parade the ‘hood crying out annoyingly throughout the movie, “Save our streets!” Even that inkling of positivity is overshadowed as a clear joke. Each time you hear the chant you can rest assured there’s something violent going on at the same time. Another horrid choice in dialogue was the scene where O2 and Coco cruise down the Sunset strip and he asks her, “You ain't never been to the Sunset strip?” I mean come on. I thought this whole can’t leave the hood stuff was ancient history: I guess not.

The score was fun. The music helped the scenes along tremendously. The Game’s performance was rather good. He seems to take to acting as well as he did to the rap game.

I wondered as I walked into the theater why there was a badge sporting flashlight cop standing guard. Well, with movies like Waist Deep, and its negative stereotypes that I thought black cinema was attempting to stray away from; theaters can find an easy justification for heightened security.

2006 LA Press Awards

Above is a picture of myself with Shivaune, International Public Relations Manager for E! Entertainment.

Last night the LA Press Club held their 48th Southern California Annual Journalism Awards. This event was a journalist's picnic as there was a sea of true contributors to the art in attendance. The night was lavish with a banquet and fine wines flowing throughout the ballroom. Mayor Antonio Villaraigosa did his "politics" thing as he spoke to the attendees about something I can’t quite remember. Tavis Smiley, one of my personal favorites, presented Larry King with the Presidents Award for outstanding achievements in Journalism.

There were awards for all types of categories. I can see myself winning an award in the near future in the online journalist category. Overall I loved the event; it allowed me the opportunity to network and manage the silent auction. I am still hot that I didn’t place a bid on anything; the prizes were great.

School's Out!

Students have more than the end of the school year to celebrate. On Friday June 16, 2006, at the Gibson Amphitheater, Ray J kicked off his “School’s Out Tour”. Joined by Trey Songz and friends, the concert was sure to be a hit. As fans milled through the Universal Studios lot, beautiful girls and hot guys weren’t the only distractions. Local radio stations got concertgoers hyped before they even entered the arena.

Power 106 D.J., Sour Milk represented on the one’s and two’s. KISS FM was in the building as well as Latin 96.3. The U.S. Army pitched a tent at the entrance where they took names for a raffle. The prize was for a trip to any place in the world.

As I took my seat in the orchestra section, I was surprised that the theater was less than half full. The crowd was still filing in, and the NB Ridaz were on stage performing their heavily rotated single, “Something About these Pretty Girls,” complete with the Roger Troutman voice synthesizer. NB Ridaz call their sound, "Latino Hip Hop Ballads". But the ballads sound more to me like Reggaeton on a respirator. Nevertheless, they had some effect on the crowd, especially when they brought out their ace-in-the-hole, singer Angelina. She gracefully carried the group through their last few songs. She possessed a powerful voice and brought the crowd to life with songs like, “I Wanna Run Away With You.”

Next up was somewhat of a surprise to me. The self proclaimed King of Virginia, Trey Songz, a young up and coming R&B artist stole the show. His whiny rhythmic vocals were reminiscent of a young R-Kelly. The range and content of his songs made the girls squirm. The major surprise was that I’d been listening to a lot of his work and did not realize the extreme amount of star quality he possesses. Thank god I was there, because it was all I needed to see. That night I was on the web trying to download the shit out of his album. When he preformed he did it with confidence. He rocked some of his hit songs like, “"Girl Tonite," and “I Don’t Wanna Leave.” He ended his set by taking off his shirt (revealing a less than manly body), tearing it into four pieces, and throwing it into four sections of the crowd. Talk about confidence.

Finally the headliner took the stage. Ray J had a semi-hard act to follow. He brought his new artist, Shorty Mac on stage to be his hype man. He kicked off his performance with a single from his first album, minus one Lil Kim, “Wait A Minute.” He then took the time out to shout out his sister, Brandy, who was front and center. His set was energized, but it was littered with way too many throwback hits from the West Coast rappers like Snoop and Tupac. I guess this was his ploy to engage the LA crowd with some familiar songs–since many people, such as myself, would enjoy much more singing along with a song we know instead of dancing to one we don’t. He gave us a few cuts off of his latest CD, Raydation, but overall his set wasn’t that long. He closed it out asking his fans for their prayers. Apparently his grandmother was recently diagnosed with cancer. He saved his hit song, “One Wish,” to follow up that bit of bad news. With lighters flickering throughout the arena, the entire crowd sang along.

At this point I thought the show was over, but boy was I wrong. Dirty South’s T-Pain took the stage with two of his label mates. He serenaded the crowd by playing piano and singing a nice ballad. After the spotlight was removed, the lights went up and they cut to hits like, “I’m Sprung,” I’m In Luv (With a Stripper)”. As if that wasn't enough, the entire crowd went nuts when he hit them with that latest banger, “U and Dat,” less E-40 and Kandi.

Just when I thought the night couldn’t get any better, they unleashed the Kings of ‘finga poppin, Dem Franchize Boys. The whole arena, which by this time had gained a few more heads, leaned with it and rocked with it. Their performance was super charged and packed with party energy. The group was hype and the dancing was wild, just like in the videos. Unfortunately, they were short one member. Word on the streets is the forth member, Maurice "Parlae" Gleaton, was arrested during a drug raid in Atlanta a few days prior. Well, he sure missed one hell-of-a show. Keep ya head up homie.

I Finally Got To Meet Him...

Laugh Now, Cry Later – Ice Cube (2006)

Okay, try and put yourself in my shoes. It’s June 7, 2006. Just yesterday while devil worshippers paraded the streets celebrating “the day of the beast,” my favorite rapper/actor dropped his seventh album to date. I was tipped off with information on where I could meet him in person. Ice Cube was slated to appear for autograph signings at three record stores on the West Coast and one of those dates fit perfectly with my schedule. I couldn’t make it on the first day, which was 6/6/06—I was too busy sewing voodoo dolls. I opted for the seventh—this day would be perfect. It seemed like I’d waited 15 years for this day. Today was the day that I would finally get to meet the King of Rap music—Ice Cube. I have been a Cube fan since NWA. I mean, I had never seen a man wear a Jheri Curl quite so sexily. From head to toe, Cube embodied the definition of a true West Coast G. He has the attitude, the hustle, and the militant shit-talking vibe that sends even uppity women into a tizzy. I could go on and on about the things that make Cube larger than life to me, but I would just turn into a crazed fan that…hey I think that’s what I already am. Anyone who knows me knows that I am in love with O'Shea Jackson, and by any means necessary I was going to meet him.

Approaching the VIP Music store in Compton/Watts (hell I don’t exactly know which city it was but I know it was one or the other), I felt poverty all around me. Kids crowded around the record store hoping to catch a glimpse of the dude who’s always threatening to grow his Jheri curl back. The parking lot was small and packed. The infamous ghetto bird circled the sky seemingly anticipating drama in the ’hood. Panhandlers milled about with a sad story on the tip of every tongue. The mothers looked too young to have kids, and the grandmothers were just too old to use the language they were using. The whole scene made me admire Cube all the more for his willingness to try as hard as possible to remain down to earth.

As I approached the store the line seemed to grow longer and longer. There were hundreds of people who turned out to meet him. I asked the handsome security guard dressed as if he was with the Fruit of Islam how I could get in to meet the man of the evening. He politely told me that each person who would meet him had to purchase a CD. The CD would guarantee entrance and a chance to meet Cube. I stood there thinking that maybe the line was too long. I thought I might be able to put off meeting him a bit longer. Hell, I’d waited this long. But that’s when I noticed the fans that were exiting the store with signed posters in tow. They looked satisfied and whatever he was saying to them it was right on time. Another thing I noticed were the big white T’s fans were either sporting or toting. The shirts read “Ice Cube” on the front and “6/6/06” on the back. I had to have one.

So I reached for my digital camera to document the whole scene. That’s when I realized my battery was dead. I began to get more anxious and fearful that my time with Cube was becoming less of a reality. I quickly ran to the Rite Aid next door to purchase a disposable camera. There was no way in hell I was going to miss the chance to be in a picture with my favorite man. That’s when I realized that disposable cameras were too expensive but I had to have one so I bought it anyway. I ran back to the handsome security gentleman and asked how much a CD was.

“What?” I yelled. “Twenty dollars!” Yep, twenty dollars that I didn’t have, especially after buying the camera. Needless to say, I found a way. With CD in hand, I headed to the back of the line, waiting for the moment we would meet, face-to-face, Neka and Ice Cube.

The line was bananas. I was one of the last ten fans, but I stood patiently at the back of the line. As we approached the entrance of the store I was like a kid on Christmas morning. I didn’t want to peek and ruin the shock value of seeing him in person for the first time. The people in front of me seemed to block him perfectly so that I wouldn’t be able to see him until my turn. Just as I walked to the front of the line, I saw him–beautiful in all of his splendor. He stood to take a picture with the girl ahead of me and took his chair once again. By the time I approached him he looked exhausted. My eyes had to be the size of eggs because I couldn’t believe he was so short. Nonetheless, he was gorgeous. He barely glanced up at me and asked, “What’s your name?” I said, “Neka.” Smiling. He looked up and asked in a confirming tone, “Nek-o?” I repeated my name again, spelling it, this time as he jotted it down on my CD cover. This was when I realized it was my chance to sink or swim. I had to let him know I was a fan. I had to let him know that ten years ago on my entrance application to college I wrote that I wanted to co-write movies with him. I’d even bugged the crap out of tkposition John Hayes for an internship at Cube Vision that I never got. I had to tell him that I had literally been planning this moment for years. But all I could say, the only thing that came out was, “I love you.” That was it; that was all I could say. It must have struck a cord because he glanced up at me with that smile, oh that Ice Cube smile, and replied, “Thanks.” He quickly leaned in for a picture with me and the next fan was shoving their way up to him for their one minute of intimacy with the Legendary Don Mega.