Play Live Radio
Next Up:
0:00
0:00
Available On Air Stations

Culture Lust by Angela Carone

Kick Off Your Sunday Shoes...

Oh, Hollywood. I think you're taking the whole green revolution WAY too literally. You don't need to recycle EVERY idea that's come through the hopper. But if you insist on the recycling method, one word of advice: steer clear of the 80's.

With respect to your latest project , is it really that bad? Are the Hollywood conference rooms just a wasteland of creativity? Are all of your iPhones silent and email boxes empty, left barren of originality.

I want to know who ( Dylan Sellers? ), starving for a project, decided it would be brilliant to resurrect a script about a town that banned dancing, but was forever changed by a rakish newcomer whose rhythmic cowboy boots...just... had...to cut... loose...

Yeah, I did it. Now the song is in your head. I refuse to suffer alone. Cursed Kenny Loggins!

-- Angela Carone produces arts and culture programming for These Days and Culture Lust . Please read our guidelines before posting comments.

Jessica
July 12, 2007 at 06:52 AM
True story: I met Kenny Loggins at a party two years ago and he asked me out. I was all, "Kenny, don't you think you're getting into the DANGER ZONE?" (okay, that second part not true, but it's what I wish I said!) -----

aaryn b.
July 16, 2007 at 06:38 PM
Damn you, woman! Putting that song in my head is more evil than if you'd mentioned Neil Diamond's "Raindrops Keep Fallin' On My Head" and equally as wrong as having to endure the endless mental looping of "Tomorrow" from Annie. Are you feeling me?

Pam
July 16, 2007 at 08:56 PM
"Raindrops" was written by the incomparable duo of Hal David and Burt Bacharach. And it's a great song!

aaryn b.
July 16, 2007 at 09:09 PM
Listen, Smartie (Miss Pam): I know about your boyfriends Hal and Burt and what they've written; I should have been more specific in my post. Neil Diamond has a cover version that is so painful, my hair follicles ache when I hear it. Not to mention that his voice is like a hard-grain sandpaper being rubbed over and over and over again on a nice slab of Tour de France road rash. Burt Bacharach is fine and all. Neil Diamond is whack.