Live Blogging: VH1's Top Videos of 2009 (40 - 30)

I'm starting with Pearl Jam at #39, because #40 was (who cares) Muse. Blah blah British alt-rock and angry teddy bears blah.

It's fitting that PJ's video was directed by Cameron Crowe--both he and the subject can exploit this 'I peaked in the '90s but won't give up' gumption, and it's even more fitting that the whole video is comprised of the thicker-in-the-middle members performing in a dive bar, the only place anyone hears Pearl Jam songs anymore.

38 - Creed - Something vaguely about Jesus and mostly about coming up against demons. Shouldn't even be on the countdown, but I guess middle America still exists. (Same goes for car-keying Carrie Underwood coming in at #37. Blond, accentuated twang and bust-region. Zzzz.).

And here's where you stop reading: I kind of like Rob Thomas, in at #36. He's like grownup Jason Mraz with his optimistic tunes that only touch on his deep-down-identity of a sad guitar guy. This vid makes you want to believe that life really is like parade-time Manhattan with peace marches, hippie buses and aviator glasses for all.

Foo Fighters? What is this best of 1997? The talking heads say Foo don't need to bring the silly in this video, that the straightforward performance speaks for itself. I want to agree because I'm a longtime Foo appreciator (I wouldn't go so far as to call myself a fan) but the Wheels Come Off video looks and sounds sort of like they're giving up. It's like old dude rock. Tame. And, yes, I realize that sentence has zero credibility after admitting to liking Rob Thomas.

34, Whitney's new album is a comeback in the sense that it makes me want to come back and listen to "I Will Always Love You" again. Million Dollar Bill, though? Not so much. Crack is whack, and Whit's now gravelly voice will never be able to fly like it once did. The video, since that's what this is about, has a cool Tina Turner in a teeny sequin dress vibe, which is alright.

#33, John Mayer - another attempted NYC anthem - but it ends up looking like a night out in LA. Too many skinny blonds in unnecessary scarves and people never taking off their sunglasses. That's not New York, John Mayer. I also think the precarious bridge walk is a little too much. Most people, on a cool night out in New York, don't lean over the edge of the Williamsburg bridge for a few pensive minutes before jumping into a pool with their clothes on.

#32, Happy by Leona Lewis. There's a cool movie quality to this video. The bride-switching gag is kind of clever, and let's be honest, Leona is dead-fucking-sexy. I could stare at her in the heather grey off-the-shoulder sweatshirt for at least the duration of this song. Which is also just OK.

#31: Plain White T's "1,2,3,4." I love the When Harry Met Sally device used in this video. You see all these real couples and you read a little caption with their love stories like "took him 9 months to ask her out," or "married 27 years." At the end you meet the singer's girlfriend and read that the song was written for her. Sweet and simple. Which is a nice lead in to #30.

Mariah Carey looking hids in drag. Um, take that, Eminem?

Make Ya Say Mm

Rose scents can be a bit grandma-ish, I know. Or, as a friend put it, "a bit bowl-of-potpourri-in-the-bathroomish," but the Stella McCartney Eau de Parfum is a delightfully light floral spritz that I'm dying over right now.

My company hosted a party at the Stella store in New York's Meatpacking District and, of course, there were goody bags to be had. Inside? A tubular (literally and figuratively) roll-on of the scent, in a sultry black-to-purple ombre, like the full sized bottle shown. Throughout the event there was a pro-perfume spritzer infusing the air with the effervescent floral smell and I was immediately hooked. A schizophrenic perfume user (my collection ranges from a limey Jo Malone cologne, to Philosophy's laundry soap like spray, and beyond), I'm about ready to pull the plug on the other parfums and make this my signature scent.

Added bonus, the atomizer also helped when a fellow subway rider seemed to have soiled himself on my commute home. All I smelled was roses.

Where the Wild Things Are: Sneak Preview

Oh wait, that's Lady Gaga looking like a damn fool at the VMA's. Not gonna lie, I thought she sounded great in the live rendition of her paparazzi love/hate ballad. But her costumes looked like one major wardrobe malfunction after another. I also was not feeling the crazy wheelchair girl and bloody chest stunt. It looked like a mash-up of the True Blood season finale (disappointing) and an old Madonna performance (but way less good).

That Soft Focus Ain't Foolin Anyone

By my calculations (random guessing), the members of the backstreet boys are well into their late thirties. Some may be hovering around 42. And this new vampire-themed video of theirs reeks of riding the coat-tails of a pop-culture trend to get a little attention.

One of the "boys" is almost entirely bald, but you'll have to look closely, as he never takes center stage. (the cue ball can be glimpsed in their I-youtubed-old-New-Kids-concert-footage dance sequence.)

Backstreet Boys - New Music - More Music Videos

I'm feeling a little depressed for my "generation," even though, ahem, I'm way younger than these douches, it was my cohort that brought them to fame. I may have even played a song or two of theirs in my car on the way to school. I said MIGHT.

I don't know why they can't just catapult one member to fame, one to homo outer space, and the rest into self-hating obscurity like N'Sync? It seems the logical thing to do.

In Other News from 1996, Oasis Splits.

Noel Gallagher resigned from his band of brothers, Oasis, citing "violent and verbal intimidation," a story on MTV.com says. Um, just wondering, didn't this already happen?

Who even knew these morning glories were back together, and what fans are expecting an apology for the breakup? I think anyone who still cares is probably like "yeah, great, finally." The split brings some bittersweet relief, like watching your friend's on-again-off-again relationship finally end.

"Oh really, it's over? Cool. I'll be waiting for your Sears Family Portrait x-mas cards."

Word of the Day

Parental Bailout.

Def: When you make like GM and bankrupt yourself with poor decisions, undeserved management bonuses (aka shopping sprees and Starubucks stops) and need a higher power to step in and set things right.

Sure, kids have been getting money help from the 'rentals for ever. But in these trying times, such bailouts are coming in some interesting forms and figures.

Like a "we'll help you pay off your debt, but the second you step into Starbucks, the deal is off." It's almost like congress determining that Bank of America can not continue to raise interest rates on all their loan recipients, if they're using the Gov's money to "help" these people. Right?

Have you ever gotten a parental bailout before? How did it work? What kind of conditions did it come with? I'm sure having fiscally irresponsible children is exhausting. To all the p-rents out there, how have you dealt with it? Hmm.

Erykah Badu at Governors Island

On Tuesday, August 4, AEG Live presented Erykah Badu as the first summer show at The BEACH at Governors Island. The sometimes flaky Badu was on time, and no worse for the wear after the birth of her third baby (in her Brooklyn home) this February. With the exception of sound issues during opener Janelle Monae’s set, the kickoff went smoothly.

Added as part of a reinvention of the historic island off of Manhattan, the new waterfront venue is hoped to bring tourists and New York fun-seekers out to green space, with a beach-like plot of sand, beer venders, full bars, hot dogs for days and a capacity of 3,000. With skyline views and sweeping lawns long forgotten by the city folk, Governors Island provides an idyllic summer concert location, one that AEG plans to utilize from May to October every year.

Erykah Badu brought her sig smooth-jazz-meets-rough-soul sound and toothy grin to the stage, while attendees sat on sheets-cum-beach blankets in the sand. Perhaps a function of the ticket price ($72 once water taxi and ticketmaster fees were added), the crowd was decidedly older and calmer than one might expect, and even while she belted out “Puff,” the air was clear. Most didn’t even seem to get it when she quipped about hitting a drive-through to order “a large everything” in the middle of the song.

As is her wont, Ms. Badu jumped from song to song, sometimes mid-verse, or by swapping one song’s bridge for another, but stayed mainly in her melancholy set including, a favorite among couples in the crowd, “Love of My Life.” The melee she’s known for (songs like “Bump It” and “Bag Lady”) were saved for the encore, for which barely a third of the crowd stuck around.

The young ones who lasted to the bitter end were treated to Badu’s rendition of the Jackson five’s “Nine to Five,” and soundbites from Slick Rick’s “Ladi Dadi,” adding “I knew y’all were some conceited bastards!” to the “mirror, mirror” line. Aside from donning a “Bite me I’m vegan” T shirt, Badu stayed away from her sometimes preachy rants. She did thank her band profusely, saying “they make my thang come together,” right before reminding the audience that “one smile can make a mill…” which blossomed right into the hook “a millie, a millie, millionaire,” from Lil’ Wayne’s hit of the same name. The crowd erupted into the first moshy dance fest all night and, as if through a puff of smoke, Erykah disappeared.

N.E.R.D., Mos Def and Lupe Fiasco are also on Governors Island’s summer lineup, along with a Sublime tribute band and hipster dance-anthem group, Brazilian Girls, to provide an intentional variety of sounds. I'll be at all of them, in my dreams. But at $72 a pop, I may have to copy the folks who pulled a motorboat up to the side of Govs Island to watch the show from the water.

What do you think? Another great green space for New Yorkers, or exclusionist, elitist day-cation spot?