• "Britney bombs a year ago (although that opening was infinitely more entertaining than the one she did this time) and gets rewarded for it. Hooray for her. But you know what? MTV is just as far up its own ass as any pop star if it thinks that giving out three meaningless statues to Britney Spears constitutes a comeback for her. You all deserve each other." [fourfour]

• "Looking in the past is something MTV never did well. Even when the present doesn't look so good." [Hartford Courant]

• "Of course not everyone who doesn't wear a promise ring is slutty. And that's the problem with the current culture wars: When it comes to rhetoric, there's no middle ground. Either you're a slut or a hopeless prude, and I'd venture to say that most people fall healthily in between. But choice of wording aside, I'm still mightily impressed with Jordin for standing up to the sex-sells music establishment. She's not your typical pop starlet, and I love her for it." [Boston Globe]

• "I'm pretty curious to see how this all translates to television, but from where I'm sitting it was...something. Thanks for hanging out with me, and sorry for the unexpected interruption. Now I'm gonna go drink myself into a stupor and try to take The Jonas Brothers' virginity. Good night!" [Best Week Ever]

• [Something I didn't get to because the VMA wrapup was a 20-page gallery. Guys, I know the importance of maximizing your clickthroughs—and your "turn everything into a gallery" strategy is sort of working right now—but sooner or later, your piss-poor information design is going to bite you in the ass.] [LAT]

7:50 p.m. Hey NeverEnough, I actually saw the 1st VMAs back in 1984 (I voted for ALL FIVE people's choice award nominees), and that alone earns me a free pass on the Logan's Run merry-go-round of death.

7:55 p.m. Thankfully we're going to have an appearance by Michael Phelps tonight—somebody with a freakish body-part below the neck for a change of pace.

8:02 p.m. How out-of-the-loop am I? On the screen is Lauren Conrad. Initially I thought she was Tila Tequila.

8:05 p.m. I think Taylor Swift just said this was her first CMAs ever.

8:07 p.m. I'm not sure what the helicopter adds to anything other than MTV's bills. Certainly they don't make the interviews seem more lively.

8:09 p.m. Bill Kaulitz' hair puts John Norris' into horrifying relief. Beware, Bill—this could happen to you!

8:12 p.m. I hope Tokio Hotel win something, though. Cute German accents!

8:15 p.m. T-Pain's elephantine and krump-soaked red carpet entrance is the one to beat for tonight. Surely right now Kanye just nervously ordered sperm whales for his.

8:18 p.m. Ha, I bet Sway's helicopter isn't even off the ground.

8:21 p.m. Oh, finally I get to see Microft's shoe commercial.

8:24 p.m. The live-via-helicopter Panic at the Disco interview cannot hide the fact that industry events probably bore musicians senseless, even with road games.

8:28 p.m. Taylor, Katy, and Miley: just kiss each other already, gawd.

8:28 Huh, I vaugely imagined Kid Rock was some kind of rap-hater. This promised duet-thing with Lil Wayne smacks of the rather played-out OMG TOTALLY UNEXPECTED demographic mash-up games MTV has been foisting on the VMAs since at least Busta Rhymes and Martha Stewart presented an award together way way way back when.

8:33 This British presenter—not sure who he is—along with Russell Brand may herald a new attempt by MTV to position all things from the other side of the puddle as "cool."

8:36 p.m. Some kind of...dance-off...thing. It only makes me sad that they soundtrack one dance with Ne-Yo, because Ne-Yo's not here and I'd totally rather see him tonight than about 80% of the acts that'll appear.

8:38 p.m. I don't actually believe Sway's helicopter is in the air and I don't actually believe the car they're filming has the Jonas Brothers and I don't actually believe that's the Jonas Brothers speaking and not some self-aware Autotune plug-in.

8:42 p.m. A new Pepsi commercial soundtracked by "What Is Love?" Sure, he was a one-hit wonder—but by now, Haddaway's royalties probably make him richer than Chris Kattan.

8:44 p.m. Christina Aguilera is supposedly singing "Genie in the Bottle" with some kind of surprise arrangement tonight. If she does this with the Strokes—or the Strokes manqué—it will be admirable but seven years too late, and seven years is like a whole generation in rock.

8:46 p.m. Slipknot, wearing their dads' ties unironically.

8:47 p.m. Perhaps like you, I spent the afternoon wondering what Britney's gonna say tonight. I was hoping she'd be onstage in a big comfy chair, and give a little confessional and low-key speech with a few jokes and apologies thrown in. Eventually I realized I was that close to writing fan-fic. But then again, so many op-ed columnists do essentially the same thing when they write here's-what-Obama/McCain-SHOULD-say-in-tonight's-speech columns.

8:50 p.m. I'd also rather see Ashlee perform tonight than 80% of the other folks, too.

8:53 p.m. Hairspray doesn't cause global warming (anymore), Paramore lady!

8:55 p.m. Oh Oh Oh! I forgot to mention that Maura Johnston is supposed to be on the red carpet tonight! I haven't seen her since, you know, I've furiously typing nonsense for the last hour.

8:57 p.m. Taco Bell's Frutista. Finally, a fruit smoothie for Fulgencio Batista.

8:58 p.m. I honestly and stupidly wish Benji and Paris really do love each other and will stay married forever.

9:00 p.m. OK, good, this is good. Britney starts with comedy, one of her strong suits.

9:02 p.m. And she's wearing a nice, fitting dress. Quite sexy. All the right notes so far.

9:04 p.m.The 25th anniversary? Wait, 2008 minus 25 is...um...wait.

9:05 p.m. Wow, amazingly SMALL audience for tonight!

9:06 p.m. So she goes for a big giant Goth wedding cake this year. Is there any context Rihanna wouldn't look good in?

9:09 p.m. So that was it for Britney? Everybody's gonna be disappointed. They even had Britney in the bus ads in New York City and all they give us is a pre-taped comedy short!

9:12 p.m. Russell Brand: mentioning the RNC convention so you know the jokes are fresh.

9:14 p.m. Oh wow wow wow Brand goes from the partisan to the utterly tasteless (Joe Jackson's belt), dude's gonna be roasted tomorrow.

9:16 p.m. So after that monologue, I think it's safe to say Obama nor McCain won't be giving a little speech to TEH KIDZ tonight.

9:17 p.m. The length of Foxx's little bit suggests some serious last-minute padding was needed.

9:18 p.m. Are they gonna seriously punk Britney or Mariah this year?

9:19 p.m. Well, no missteps tonight, Brit. But is that all we can expect from you?

9:21 p.m. That thing with Lauren and Spencer was beyond all comprehension. I was typing something and all of sudden Spencer was doing this rhyming stuff and I was scared and wanted somebody to hold me. COINTREAU TIME!

9:25 p.m. I am glad I got the right answer for the bit of VMA trivia they're flashing during the commercial. It makes me feel smart. Madonna has performed more times on the VMAs than any other performer. Honestly, who would've guessed?

9:27 p.m. There are 13 awards, with six having been handed out before 9, leaving seven awards in 2.25 hours. That calls for a LOT of padding.

9:28 p.m. Demi Moore is one of these people from The Hills, I take it. She's obviously a new-comer because she doesn't enough to keep the mike from blocking her face.

9:30 p.m. I can tell why the Jonas Brothers chose this fake-NYC stoop acoustic set-up for this performance—it shows they can really play their instruments, and by sitting down, it minimizes Joe's chance to fall.

9:33 p.m. I don't think I hate the Jonas Brothers, but the dealbreaker is their voices, which is way too neotenic for my tastes: the incomplete whines, cracks, high-pitchedness. Pleasingly overwrought arrangement of "Lovebug" here, though.

9:35 p.m. Katy Perry's version of "Like A Virgin": farce, right?

9:39 p.m. Because Russell Brand was in Forgetting Sarah Marshall, you see, that's why the DVD is advertised tonight. SYNERGY.

9:40 p.m. If that's all we're going to get of "I Kissed a Girl" tonight, then bravo, MTV, that's an unexpected show of good sense.

9:41 p.m. I sense there's a bright young superstar athlete who won't be making any acting turns any time soon.

9:43 p.m. Lil Wayne should be pretty fucking significant enough to not have to stand for being trapped in a medley with Leona Lewis.

9:44 p.m. So what does the hanky code say about wearing a red shirt in your right back pocket? Seriously, though, this is pretty fucking hot, though.

9:46 p.m. Lil Wayne should be pretty fucking significant enough to not have to stand for being trapped in a medley with T-Pain.

9:47 p.m. Oh, Lindsay: so cute with the androgyne tux shirt! AC/DC, LOL!

9:48 p.m. Ha, about half of the Danity Kane video has them lying down. Still, miles ahead better than that CLUNKY Pussycat Dolls track and video.

9:49 p.m. And then they all lezzed up! (cf. ye olde ILx meme, can't resist, sorry.)

9:53 p.m. Chris Brown: shill for Wrigley. I wouldn't mind quite so much if he OWNED it, you know? If he didn't look so damned sheepish in the Wrigley photo ops.

9:56 p.m. Hey kids, do what I did back at the first VMAs in 1984: completely negate your impact by voting for all people's choice nominees.

9:59 PLEASE DON'T TOUCH YOUR LADYPARTS, PARAMORE SINGER PERSON!

10:00 (Would I be grossed out or amused if Joe Jonas touched his ladyparts onstage, though? Hmm.)

10:06 p.m. It's a good sign that so far the most DO NOT WANT MOMENT so far has been the Vince Vaughn romantic comedy ad.

10:08 p.m. All right, Russell Brand. So you want to fuck the Jonas Brothers like every red-blooded American male, WE GET IT.

10:09 Slash: also available for weddings and bar mitzvahs.

10:12 Someday we'll all look at this Miley Cyrus/Bill Kaulitz Rock band 2 in-show ad with the same cringing fascination as Bette Midler and Dan Akroyd's dancing in astronaut outfits back in '84.

10:14 p.m. Amazingly, P!nk is now one of the more experienced musicians onstage tonight...and man, with the blaring and overdone "rock" sound of her band, it feels like it.

10:17 p.m. What's awkward about the Rock Band 2 skit is that software isn't the thing that MTV best shills for. What MTV excels at shilling is itself.

10:21 p.m. Oh, I was hoping they'd show the Ting Tings' video with all the endless corridor of magic vaginas.

10:23 p.m. Russell, shut the fuck. UP. Pete and Ashlee are way cuter than you! Go away Russell!

10:24 p.m. Slipknot onstage...with someone in a mask who doesn't belong! Another attempt at OMG SURPRISE fizzles into pools of regret and tears. That's the "McLovin" guy, right?

10:26 p.m. Ha ha ha Jordin Sparks gives a dig at Brand. And here's John Legend, more taste than charisma, which is not always an aesthetic liability but here, it's eh.

10:28 p.m. I want more set pieces on this show! A video awards show should theoretically have performances that are more like video performances, right? Maybe?

10:32 p.m. Rihanna looking like...P!nk. Without the pink. Sunglasses are a bad idea at these things: surely I can't be the only person who thinks "reading cue cards" when they see them on live TV.

10:33 p.m. What does it say about the zeitgeist when tonight there have been two commercials—one for Christina Aguilera's perfume, the other for Rhapsody—with magic bubbles?

10:35 p.m. I am faintly pleased that LL Cool J is now mainstream enough—or the mainstream is now hip-hop enough—to get his own line of clothes at Sears.

10:39 p.m. Well, Christina doesn't go the superobvious Strokes route for "Genie in a Bottle," instead doing something a little more, ah, Eurythmic-y. Good for her! Kinda hot. And is that schaffel I hear? Why yes, a bit of a cliché, but always appreciated.

10:41 p.m. I think everybody's going to point out that Christina's routine is exactly the type of thing Britney could be doing these days, but won't—or can't.

10:42 p.m. OH GOD. Brand's "piss-off"/"piss on" R. Kelly joke is maybe the most tasteless thing I can remember the VMAs doing in recent memory.

10:43 p.m. The cute German guys with the cute German accents—Bill giggles like a girl, so charmante—won!

10:45 p.m. Bill Cantiello is a cute douche dude with awesome hair. Sorry I can't phrase that with more panache, but...oh look, a huge distracting thing! [Regretful morning-after edit: I apologize Mr. Cantiello, that was dumb and mean of me.]

10:48 p.m. PEOPLE, THIS IS IMPORTANT: if you want to follow along with the comments go to feed://idolator.com/comments.xml — we're not sure why they're not showing up.

10:51 p.m. So yes, again: the comments are at feed://idolator.com/comments.xml

Paris is less together than Britney tonight!

10:52 p.m. Any word on who Britney just hugged?

10:55 p.m. Oh hi everyone! Still here, just bitching offline for a sec. Wait, Tag Body Spray has a record label?

10:58 p.m. Hey, if you're still interesting in making comments or some such, GO HERE: http://idolator.com/400992/temporary-vma-comments-thread

11:00 p.m. Oooh, depressingly unsmooth hip-hop punch-in in this Kid Rock performance.

11:03 p.m. Now WTF was I thinking when I said Kid Rock was a hip-hop hater earlier? Kinda forgot like MOST OF HIS CAREER there!

11:05 p.m. Kid's song, though. Ergh. I like him, but he's finally hit upon something as uninspired as Uncle Kracker's "Drift Away" cover. He's...he's the American Oasis now.

11:09 p.m. Adam Corrolla: once again trying to save Male America from food fagginess. FECK IM.

11:05 p.m. Kanye's got five minutes (+/- a few) to save the world.

11:12 p.m. Brit does a hat trick. Seems very obvious in retrospect, doesn't it?

11:15 p.m. Look, it's Kanye! Attractive song (new?), but it seems very straight R&B for him. On the other hand, "I love you when I want to" is a good, self-loathing lyric.

11:19 p.m. And now we get into the credits and more interminable Russell Brand ad-libbing.

11:21 Suprisingly tasteful suit for Perez there. Seriously, I'm a ho for plaid and plaid suits are gonna be hot this year, I hear. Bill Kaulitz: thin, gawky, pale—even Kompakt doesn't have a more adorable German than he.

11:23 p.m. Maura (or Pareene) should be standing where Perez is now! NO JUSTICE NO PEACE!

11:28 p.m. I could part with some reflective words on what we've just seen tonight, but I have temporarily lost all ability to reflect on the past, which I think is just the way MTV likes it. With that, I bid you adieu.

VIDEO OF THE YEAR
Britney Spears, "Piece of Me"

BEST MALE VIDEO
Chris Brown, "With You"

BEST FEMALE VIDEO
Britney Spears, "Piece of Me"

BEST NEW ARTIST
Tokio Hotel, "Ready, Set, Go!"

BEST POP VIDEO
Britney Spears, "Piece of Me"

BEST ROCK VIDEO
Linkin Park, "Shadow of the Day"

BEST HIP-HOP VIDEO
Lil Wayne (featuring Static Major), "Lollipop"

BEST DANCING IN A VIDEO
Pussycat Dolls, "When I Grow Up"

BEST ART DIRECTION
Gnarls Barkley, "Run"

BEST CHOREOGRAPHY
Gnarls Barkley, "Run"

BEST DIRECTING
Erykah Badu, "Honey"

BEST EDITING
Death Cab For Cutie, "I Will Possess Your Heart"

BEST CINEMATOGRAPHY
The White Stripes, "Conquest"

BEST SPECIAL EFFECTS
Kanye West, "Good Life"

As I've alluded to in a few posts, I spent part of yesterday afternoon on the Paramount Studios lot, where Sunday's show is taking place, and where a preview of sorts was given to the press. Russell Brand hosted and his all-tangents brand of comedy had me in stitches, I have to be honest. I watched Kid Rock perform "Werewolves Of Alabama" "All Summer Long" while wearing pedicure slippers, and I even danced a little bit, thanks to the cajoling of a pal. (And I was not ashamed, because, well, fuck it.) I saw T.I. descend a fire escape. I realized that Xtina is xtiny. I felt a little part of me shrivel up and die when I heard that Katy Perry would be re-creating Madonna's performance of "Like A Virgin," a performance that was already re-created some five years or so ago by performers who, even though they've had their share of issues over the years, can still wipe the floor with the ex-Christian warbler. I found out that Kanye West's "boycott" of the VMAs didn't even last long enough for one installment of the show to happen. (He's closing Sunday night's festivities.) I wondered whether or not, given the number of non-music-related celebrities on the roster of presenters, Sarah Palin and/or Barack Obama had been invited. I got sunburned.

When I got back, I found out that the technical awards had already been announced. Why this wasn't done while the press gaggle was assembled is beyond me; chalk my confusion up to Why I Work In Editorial Part Eleventy Bazillion. The winners:

BEST ART DIRECTION
Gnarls Barkley, "Run"

BEST CHOREOGRAPHY
Gnarls Barkley, "Run"

BEST DIRECTING
Erykah Badu, "Honey"

BEST EDITING
Death Cab For Cutie, "I Will Possess Your Heart"

BEST CINEMATOGRAPHY
The White Stripes, "Conquest"

BEST SPECIAL EFFECTS
Kanye West, "Good Life"

Not a Pussycat Dolls victory among them! And the PCDs haven't been announced as performers or anything yet, either, which leads me to believe that the only thing they'll be taking home Sunday night is a goose egg.

Anyway, come back Sunday for our coverage! And feel free to conjure up your own dream VMA scenario here.

2008 Video Music Awards Nominations

Two weeks ago, word came down that Kent Brownridge was stepping down from his daily duties as chairman/CEO at Alpha Media Group. Alpha is owned by the Quadrangle Group, a private equity consortium that had taken on the American magazines previously owned by Felix Dennis, a British publishing magnate. Brownridge had previously spent 30 years as Wenner Media's general manager, but was pushed out two years ago by his boss.

During his year at the helm of Alpha Media Group, Brownridge cut costs: he decided that Stuff, an even more boorish spin-off of Maxim, was redundant and best folded into the main mag. But evidently, his partners believed that they should be seeing greater profits in a shorter amount of time.

At the time, Brownridge told WWD's Stephanie Smith that he hadn't been spending enough time with his new wife. But on Wednesday, Brownridge said he will now become the general manager of OK!, an American iteration of the hugely popular British publication and competitor of Us Weekly, a Wenner Media property that Brownridge supervised closely. In the extremely unlikely event that Mr. Brownridge will read this post, Anono-Prick would like to invite him to submit a comment as to what changed in the past two weeks. Did his wife tell him, "no thanks, honey, go ahead and run a magazine," or was his statement to Smith a face-saving measure?

In any case, if Brownridge's fellow investors expected greater profit margins from Maxim and Blender within a year of taking them on, it seems likely that they do not understand the magazine business. It may also have been that Quadrangle Group believed that they were purchasing the Dennis Publishing of 1999-2002, a company that virtually monopolized the meager attention spans of every backwards-baseball cap wearer who was too timid or too stupid to secure real pornography. But the unlimited ability to access content for free and/or with greater convenience is what faces every sector of the publishing diaspora, and with every passing nanosecond since that time, men have found it easier to use the Device You Are Currently Gazing At to head down the same path David Duchovny has of late.

Anono-Prick cannot help but wonder what Blender Editor-in-Chief Joe Levy makes of Brownridge's exit. The two had to have had a fairly good relationship while both worked at Rolling Stone, since Brownridge hired Levy away from a job that he held for 11 years.

For the cover of its October issue, Blender turns to the Pussycat Dolls, five women who have parlayed the performance tropes of strippers into international stardom. The story, "Real Dolls," is written by Deborah Schoeneman, a writer who has worked for Page Six and has since specialized in chronicling the doings of various fabulous people. (She also dated a good friend of AP's for a very short time; AP only spoke to her twice.) Schoeneman follows the Dolls around Los Angeles for a bit: she begins with a party in Beverly Hills that finds a Russian banker paying for his trophy wife to join the Dolls for the evening, and otherwise does her best to make the expensive drudgery of the members' working lives seem interesting.

Schoeneman asks Alpha Doll Nicole Scherzinger about the aborted launch of her solo album Her Name Is Nicole, upon which Blender's cover story 11 months ago was pegged. "I decided to hold off," she punts. "I didn't want to lose the momentum of the PCD. That train's been moving so fast." In last year's story, however, Scherzinger stressed that the record was her one shot, and that she should not miss her chance to blow, and that this opportunity comes once in a lifetime. Or, alternately, "I need total focus, total concentration, total centering, because this album is everything I've been working for my whole life. You get one chance, and this is my chance."

While "Real Dolls" is a pretty short story, the remainder of what used to be understood as the "feature well" is protracted. "The Geek Squad" is a photo essay concerning the participants in Nerdapalooza, which was held in Orlando, Fla., in July. Associate editor Mark Yarm's text commences with one of AP's last favorite magazine-writing tropes: he compares the goings on there to "the set of a Fellini film—if Fellini had been a '80s baby weaned on Nintendo NES, Star Wars and superhero comic books."

And for the first time in Editor-in-Chief Joe Levy's nine-month tenure, Blender sallies forth a list! The list's bailiwick? "The 33 Most Overrated People, Places, Trends and other Junk in Rock." From the premise (damning this or that as "overrated" is an ancient magazine tactic) to its execution (complaining about "Freebird" and Timbaland isn't novel), the piece doesn't stand up to the kind of amused assemblages that the mag made its name on. But of course, the list has already has been picked up all over the place for the temerity to suggest that Tupac's reputation is inflated (AP agrees), and a nice lil brushfire has resulted. Which justifies the entire exercise, AP supposes.

The rest of the mag is similarly protracted. The component of the Guide devoted to new albums is down to six pages; the customary two pages devoted to film reviews is down to one page and one review. Now, a shrinking ad market is simply the hand that Levy has been dealt, but almost every aspect of this issue of Blender lacks the confidence that marked it before his tenure.

When Levy took over in January, he had two or three months to figure out what worked and what didn't. It seems that, since he has kept virtually every editorial gimmick that Blender had developed in its seven-year lifetime, he likes Blender the way it was. His single formal addition is his pal Rob Sheffield's Station to Station column, which this month examines Baltimore's DIY scene, which is the kind of subject Sheffield should tackle all the time, instead of waxing incoherent about reality TV or his '80s faves.

The one deviation from "the way Blender has been" is the animating imprimatur of his predecessor, Craig Marks, who, as second in command to Andy Pemberton from 2001 to 2004 and then as the boss until early this year, turned the mag from a American version of Q into the liveliest music rag in the US.

(Here, AP should say that he worked under Marks at Blender in 2002-2003 under the alias "Rob Kemp"; I did not befriend Marks at the time and have had no contact with him for five years. My admiration for what he accomplished, and his great talent and intellect are untainted by anything resembling a personal relationship. I've only spoken to Levy a few times and never had a significant professional interaction with him.)

It seems like Levy is stuck. Above, his paymasters look over his shoulder. To his left, he sees the departure of a boss he got along with. To his right, his intended readership is consumed with pictures of naked breasts they did not pay for. And below is the legacy of his predecessor, the guy who came up with the tricks that now lack much in the way of spark.

Strummier and sunnier than their Lilith counterparts in the '90s and closer in kinship to California's post-Joni ladies of the '70s, two gals with hard-to-spell names led this '07 boomlet with a pair of Top Five smashes: Colbie Caillat, with "Bubbly," and Sara Bareilles, with "Love Song." The surprise success of American Idol's Brooke White, who seemed every week to be channeling Carole King, only fueled the theory.

Trouble is, neither Caillat nor Bareilles has had an easy time following up those easy-listening hits. Caillat has fared respectably, with a No. 20 followup ("Realize"), but not spectacularly. And Bareilles is completely stalled, with "Love Song" still leading the Adult Contemporary chart but no followup—on the Hot 100, or anywhere—all these months later.

So, new theory: maybe pop fans weren't latching onto these ladies' earthy-girl personas at all, but their sound.

Which brings us to Jason Mraz. He makes a big move into the Top 10 this week and, just in time for fall, proves the bedroom-girlypop sound can still hit big in 2008, even if the act in question possesses an extra Y chromosome.

With "I'm Yours," which shoots 15 notches to No. 9, Mraz scores his first Top 10 hit, two weeks after it become only his second-ever Top 40 hit. Mraz's previous high-water mark was his chart debut, 2003's "The Remedy (I Won't Worry)," which peaked at No. 14 in September 2003 and established Mraz as the new millennium's jive-talking doofus. (Hey, G. Love, call your agent.)

It's tempting to slag Mraz for switching to a mellower, midtempo-ballad sound, either to leap onto the girlypop bandwagon, or to tap John Mayer's and Jack Johnson's lucrative turf. But that would contradict the facts: "I'm Yours" is a three-year old song, dismissed by Mraz when he recorded it (not unlike Mayer's originally dim view of his ultimately Grammy-winning "Daughters") and first released by Elektra Records as a throwaway promotional track for a 2005 Mraz EP.

Resurrected on his spring 2008 album We Sing. We Dance. We Steal Things, "I'm Yours" hovered around the lower reaches of the Hot 100 for nearly half a year until, in the last three weeks, it exploded into the Top 40 and finally the Top 10.

The song appears to be a genuine viral hit, having caught on with digital-song buyers despite minimal radio attention. "Yours" ranks fifth on Billboard's Digital Songs list, clearing 100,000 downloads for the first time. And it's clearly on the way up— at iTunes it ranks second overall as of this writing, and it's holding at fifth place at Amazonmp3. You have to imagine all this sales action will spur radio programmers to start spinning the track, but for now, Mraz is nowhere to be found on the Hot 100 Airplay list, and among pop stations, "Yours" only ranks 69th, up just four places from last week.

One radio format that will probably give "Yours" a boost is A/C. It's only ranked 20th on Hot Adult Contemporary Tracks so far, but given this format's glacial pace, you can expect the song to top the chart sometime around Christmas, or maybe even later. Think I'm kidding? The current No. 1 at A/C, now in its 14th week, is, no joke, "Love Song"—which, about five months ago, evicted "Bubbly" from the A/C top spot. Jason, behold your future!

Here's a rundown of the rest of this week's charts:

• There's one more tiny airplay format that's been behind Mraz all year, long before his current pop crossover: adult album alternative, or triple-A, radio. "I'm Yours" has been a smash at that format for months. Just two months ago, after tracking the airplay of such stations for years, Billboard formally inaugurated a Triple-A chart. It's listed on Billboard's website alongside the magazine's Modern Rock and Mainstream Rock charts, rather than with the Adult Contemporary and Adult Top 40 lists.

But then, triple-A has always been a little-bit-of-this, little-bit-of-that format for semi-hip, semi-crunchy 30somethings who fancy themselves too cool for A/C but not quite ready for, say, Flobots. (Not that any of us is.) Al Shipley's latest post evolved into an interesting discussion on the dividing line between modern rock and triple-A, viz. the likelihood of so-called "indie" acts succeeding at either format.

I don't plan to cover the Triple-A chart extensively here in the future (stations reporting the format number in the dozens). But for those curious about what stations big enough to report to Billboard consider worthy of their air—and if you're wondering if any stations out there play new material by Adam Duritz—here's this week's Top 10:

1. Coldplay, "Viva la Vida" (LW No. 1, 14 weeks)
2. Counting Crows, "Come Around" (LW No. 2, 11 weeks)
3. O.A.R., "Shattered (Turn the Car Around)" (LW No. 4, 22 weeks)
4. Jack Johnson, "Hope" (LW No. 2, 16 weeks)
5. Matt Nathanson, "Come on Get Higher" (LW No. 5, 25 weeks)
6. My Morning Jacket, "I'm Amazed" (LW No. 6, 18 weeks)
7. The Raconteurs, "Old Enough" (LW No. 8, 14 weeks)
8. Jason Mraz, "I'm Yours" (LW No. 7, 27 weeks)
9. Beck, "Orphans" (LW No. 10, 8 weeks)
10. R.E.M., "Hollow Man" (LW No. 9, 15 weeks)

One obvious difference between Triple-A and A/C: women, or the lack thereof. You have to get down to No. 15 to spot one, fronting the Pretenders' "Boots of Chinese Plastic." Several solo females do appear on the list, but lower down: Bareilles (at No. 17 with "Bottle It Up)"; Lilith stalwarts Sheryl Crow ("Motivation," No. 18) and Sarah McLachlan ("U Want Me To," No. 20); New York singer-songwriter Ingrid Michaelson ("Be OK," No. 21); and smart-people fetish object Aimee Mann ("Freeway," No. 24).

Between this and the typical modern-rock playlist, it kind of makes you forgive any woman you know who falls back on her local A/C station. Deadly as that format might be, at least they can hear their distaff compatriots there in power rotation.

• Speaking of our man Al, as he half-predicted back in July, "Believe," Staind's "sluggish ballad," ultimately proved irresistible to alt-rock programmers. The song takes over No. 1 on the Modern Rock list this week, evicting Coldplay.

• I need to stop shooting my mouth off about songs on the Hot 100 I don't like, lest they chart higher to spite me. Last week in this space, I dissed Pink's No. 9-debuting "So What," calling it less memorable than her two previous, long-lived hits that earned their way up to the same chart position the hard way. One week later, "So What" shoots to No. 3, making a mockery of me just a few months after I sagely predicted that the Pussycat Dolls' "When I Grow Up" would be a short-lived hit. Le sigh.

This leap makes "So What"—as Billboard chart columnist Fred Bronson points out—Pink's highest-charting solo hit ever, instantly beating the peak positions of such radio gold as "Get the Party Started" and "Don't Let Me Get Me." The "solo" tag is essential, because Pink was credited on 2001's "Lady Marmalade," the No. 1 diva clusterfuck. But now it looks like the erstwhile Alecia Moore might score her very own No. 1: as of this writing, "So What" is No. 1 on iTunes, giving Pink the edge to oust T.I. from the Hot 100's top spot next week.

• The fight between Atlantic Records' two big summer hits and their cheap insta-covers continues on the Hot 100. Kid Rock regains the upper hand, as the Hit Masters' cover of "All Summer Long" tumbles to No. 33 in its third week, and his original crawls up two spots to No. 23. (Just to give you an idea of how critical an iTunes release is to Hot 100 position these days, the Kid's "Summer" is now the third-most-played song at radio nationwide, but no sales means it can't even break into the Top 20.) As for "American Boy," Estelle's original and the dreadful Studio All-Stars cover are five spaces away from each other now, the original plummeting to No. 57, the cover soaring to No. 52. The only good news for Estelle this week: her album finally reverses course, selling 9% more than the week before (4,600 copies). But with cumulative sales of 104,000, that gold plaque is still a long, long way off.

Top 10s
Last week's position and total weeks charted in parentheses (Digital Songs chart includes total downloads/percentage change in parentheses):

Hot 100
1. T.I., "Whatever You Like" (LW No. 1, 4 weeks)
2. Rihanna, "Disturbia" (LW No. 2, 11 weeks)
3. Pink, "So What" (LW No. 9, 2 weeks)
4. Chris Brown, "Forever" (LW No. 3, 19 weeks)
5. M.I.A., "Paper Planes" (LW No. 6, 7 weeks)
6. Kardinal Offishall feat. Akon, "Dangerous" (LW No. 5, 17 weeks)
7. Coldplay, "Viva la Vida" (LW No. 7, 17 weeks)
8. Ne-Yo, "Closer" (LW No. 8, 20 weeks)
9. Jason Mraz, "I'm Yours" (LW No. 24, 20 weeks)
10. Katy Perry, "I Kissed a Girl" (LW No. 4, 17 weeks)

Hot Digital Songs
1. T.I., "Whatever You Like" (LW No. 1, 176,000 downloads)
2. Pink, "So What" (LW No. 4, 136,000 downloads)
3. Rihanna, "Disturbia" (LW No. 2, 119,000 downloads)
4. M.I.A., "Paper Planes" (LW No. 3, 107,000 downloads)
5. Jason Mraz, "I'm Yours" (LW No. 10, 112,000 downloads)
6. Coldplay, "Viva la Vida" (LW No. 7, 79,000 downloads)
7. The Pussycat Dolls, "When I Grow Up" (LW No. 9, 78,000 downloads)
8. Katy Perry, "Hot N Cold" (LW No. 29, 75,000 downloads)
9. Katy Perry, "I Kissed a Girl" (LW No. 8, 65,000 downloads)
10. Hit Masters, "All Summer Long" (LW No. 5, 61,000 downloads)

Hot R&B/Hip-Hop Songs
1. Jazmine Sullivan, "Need U Bad" (LW No. 1, 18 weeks)
2. T.I., "Whatever You Like" (LW No. 8, 7 weeks)
3. Young Jeezy feat. Kanye West, "Put On" (LW No. 5, 17 weeks)
4. Rihanna, "Take a Bow" (LW No. 3, 19 weeks)
5. Keyshia Cole, "Heaven Sent" (LW No. 2, 23 weeks)
6. Lil Wayne, "A Milli" (LW No. 4, 19 weeks)
7. T-Pain feat. Lil Wayne, "Can't Believe It," (LW No. 13, 8 weeks)
8. Jennifer Hudson, "Spotlight" (LW No. 10, 16 weeks)
9. Yung Berg feat. Casha, "The Business" (LW No. 6, 15 weeks)
10. David Banner feat. Chris Brown, "Get Like Me" (LW No. 9, 27 weeks)

Hot Country Songs
1. Jimmy Wayne, "Do You Believe Me Now" (LW No. 4, 23 weeks)
2. Brad Paisley, "Waitin' on a Woman" (LW No. 3, 12 weeks)
3. Keith Urban, "You Look Good in My Shirt" (LW No. 1, 15 weeks)
4. Keith Anderson, "I Still Miss You" (LW No. 2, 31 weeks)
5. Darius Rucker, "Don't Think I Don't Think About It" (LW No. 7, 20 weeks)
6. Kenny Chesney, "Everybody Wants to Go to Heaven" (LW No. 6, 5 weeks)
7. Kid Rock, "All Summer Long" (LW No. 10, 16 weeks)
8. George Strait, "Troubadour" (LW No. 8, 14 weeks)
9. Toby Keith, "She Never Cried in Front of Me" (LW No. 9, 10 weeks)
10. The Lost Trailers, "Holler Back" (LW No. 11, 28 weeks)

Hot Modern Rock Tracks
1. Staind, "Believe" (LW No. 3, 10 weeks)
2. Foo Fighters, "Let It Die" (LW No. 2, 22 weeks)
3. Coldplay, "Viva la Vida" (LW No. 1, 13 weeks)
4. Carolina Liar, "I'm Not Over" (LW No. 6, 18 weeks)
5. Weezer, "Pork & Beans" (LW No. 4, 20 weeks)
6. Disturbed, "Inside the Fire" (LW No. 5, 23 weeks)
7. Saving Abel, " Addicted" (LW No. 7, 24 weeks)
8. Weezer, "Troublemaker" (LW No. 10, 8 weeks)
9. The Offspring, "You're Gonna Go Far, Kid" (LW No. 9, 6 weeks)
10. Metallica, "The Day That Never Comes" (LW No. 25, 2 weeks)

ONE-LISTEN VERDICT: When I saw Christina Aguilera at the Video Music Awards pregame yesterday, she mentioned that in contrast to the retro-heavy Back To Basics, her forthcoming material would be more informed by "the future." Apparently, the future was envisioned by Gary Glitter back in 1973, because like many other singles^* of recent vintage, "Keeps Gettin' Better" is a muscular, percussive arena-ready song that has some semi-controversial lyrics (Christina saying that she can, in fact, be a "superbitch" sometimes) and lots of opportunities for fist-waving. There are a few space-age sounds dropped in here and there, which I guess is the "future" part shining through.

WHERE TO FIND IT: New York's very own Z100.

^* In the case of the Fall Out Boy track, the jock-jam structure seems to be deliberate, in order to contrast with the wild narcissism of the lyrics. But the aesthetic point still stands.

Analog Hype Ships
Well, this explains his collaborations with Albini.

Sylphs Hope Again
This one's easy: When he's feeling down, the faeries are there to prop up his mind, if not his falls into drum risers.

Papal Nosey Highs
Some day, Weiland will realize his Holy Grail of getting fucked up with the Pope. Some day.

Hippy-Ho, Lasagnes
Maybe he's going the Jimmy Buffett route and entering the frozen-dinner world.

Shiny Hogs' Appeal
Ah! That must be it! He's going into motorcycling! Right? No? Ah, forget it. Seriously, I'm out.

Anagrams for happy in galoshes [Internet Anagram Server]
Scott Weiland [Official site]

ONE-LISTEN VERDICT: When this song debuted on BBC Radio 1's Zane Lowe show Monday, Snow Patrol frontman Gary Lightbody made a bit of a production of stating that the band's new album was a radical departure from their previous material. Having heard several tracks from the album, Zane Lowe wholeheartedly agreed. I can only assume that they were discussing the rest of A Hundred Million Suns, because this single sounds just like the more animated tracks from the last two Snow Patrol discs. That's not a bad thng, necessarily—the band occupies a credible space for those looking to get a little more obscure than Coldplay, but not outside of the sensitive British alt-rock-pop act mold. Similar to the hard-rock acts of the '90s, Snow Patrol can't lead with the monster ballad, since they'd be seen as "soft," but I'm certain there's one track that's ready to soundtrack an important scene ER's season finale lurking somewhere in that new album's tracklist. Holding some spot between commercially viability and vague artistic credibility isn't easy to pull off, so why jump off the ride before its finished?

WHERE TO FIND IT: Music Is The Heart Of Our Soul. Or:

LAGWAGON
Okay, first off, just shut up and admit it: I Think My Older Brother Used To Listen To Lagwagon is a funny title. Though whether the EP's No. 39 debut on Heatseekers last week indicates that a new generation of younger siblings is now catching onto these Santa Barbara pop-punk lifers has yet to be determined—especially since the record has already dropped off said chart. Lagwagon boast several previous albums, the oldest dating back to 1992, all on Fat Wreck Chords. (Other amusing titles: Double Plaidinum, Let's Talk About Feelings, Let's Talk About Leftovers.) Their music, like lots of other music released on their record label, is silly, nerd-voiced hopscotch-beat twiddle of the sub-Green Day variety; they claim a metal influence, as well, which is halfway audible in their guitars if you really listen hard for it. The singer jumps rope on stage sometimes.

HAYSTAK
I think your older brother used to listen to Haystak, too, and guess what? He's still around! And I do mean round. The heavyweight hillbilly hip-hopper from Blastville, Tenn., has a new album called Hard 2 Love, and it hits the Heatseekers chart at No. 13 this week. His MySpace page indicates that he wears glasses now, and has seemingly had some sort of stresses in his personal life, which he raps about with utmost sincerity in his new album's title track. Then in the slow-riding driveby "B.O.S.S.," he asserts that "I'm a businessman, get out my business van, and we gon' turn your neighborhood into Pakistan." Also, you can order several different T-shirts from him, preferably of the XXXL persuasion. Haystak's MySpace pal Adam—"Hey big Homie we got problems. Your shit is too hot. I was late for work because you had me stuck in front of the stereo mesmerized by the lyrics. Now you need to calm down because if I get fired I cant get one of them shirts. Be good bro."—sure plans to, so why not you?

ESHAM
Esham is still around, too, and he's selling even more T-shirts on his MySpace page than Haystak! The bald Detroit horror-rapper or acid-rapper or whatever he calls himself these days (basically unknown outside of Murder City, but supposedly a major inspiration for both Eminem and Insane Clown Posse) squeezes into the Heatseekers chart at No. 50 this week with his umpteenth album Sacrificial Lambz; his page also plugs a recent EP called, cleverly, Lamb Chopz, and it has French-fried eyeballs swimming in a pool of blood on its cover. (The album itself, strangely enough, only has a frolicsome herd of baby sheep.) All his favorite MySpace friends appear to be young women with hardly any clothes on.

ANARBOR
I'm sure Esham would agree that if you're gonna call your band Anarbor, you really should at least come from Michigan, if not A2 itself. But nope, these four guys plus girl bassist turn out to be "recent high school graduates" from Phoenix. Their "The Natural Way" made a mysterious one-week-only appearance on the physically oriented Hot Singles Sales chart at No. 6 last week, even though their MySpace page refers to it as a digital EP available on iTunes. They appear to be very well-behaved, and so do their fans. They signed to Hopeless Records in June, and joined the Warped Tour in August. They sound exactly as dull as you'd suspect they would. But if you check their old MySpace blogs, you'll find a cute photo from when they were all just 13 years old.

STRAIGHT LINE STITCH
Intermittently melodic and rhythmic barf-metal from Knoxville with a woman of color (not to mention extremely long blue dreadlocks) providing "clean" vocals and ugly ones alike; their album When Skies Wash Ashore blipped onto Heatseekers at No. 32 last week, but this week, it's gone. Alexis Brown is hardly the first black woman to sing loud'n'noisy rock (as anybody with Mother's Finest or Skunk Anansie platters in his or her collection will surely tell you, for starters, not to mention any records by Santogold's old band Stiffed; other precedents might be found here.) But skim through comments beneath Straight Line Stitch's "Remission" video on YouTube, and race and gender are definitely a big part of what people argue about: "this band is proof that metal is not limited 2 race or sex,i mean, im black and i listen to death/black metal......AND I LOVE IT"; "Jada Pinkket Smith in a Band called Wicked Wisdom and SHE IS BLACK, this is not new!"; "Finally a chick who can make up for the shitty image Jadda Pinkett brought on black vocalists."; "First time i see a girl that can scream like that since Arch enemy. And she also sings in regular voice too.. this could be good!"; "she dont belong in metal , go make an over-rated much music video."; "All of these female metal bands sound just like this. I'm a female metal vocalist for a band called For The Slaughter, and you know what.. fuck this nu metal crap. This girls just another Otep, another Bloodlined Calligraphy, another In This Moment. Come on."; "People kill me always bringing up race.....black folks paved the way for rock, and just about every other music genre...She is kick ass as well as the band as a whole."; "i know im gonna probly get blasted for asking this. But are they Nu-metal or what?"; "I love how whenever people post comments they think their opinion
is going to persuade someone to change their mind via youtube. Everybody is a critic these days. And what's with all the terrible grammar people? Didn't any of you go to school?"

LADY GAGA
Lady GaGa's album The Fame entered the Canadian album chart at No. 8 last week and this week hangs on just inside our northern neighbors' top ten. Meanwhile, her song "Just Dance" with Colby O'Donis (and occasionally Akon), which has spent the past few weeks at the peak of the Canadian Hot 100 mountain, is at No. 79 on the Hot 100 and No. 8 on the Hot Dance Airplay chart in the U.S., despite being Medium-NRG dancefloor fluff of no notable distinction beyond her relatively tuneless voice. Lady GaGa's bio on MySpace reveals that she grew up on Manhattan's Upper West Side, but later experienced a period of "self-discovery" on the Lower East Side which consisted of "dabbling in drugs and the party scene," yikes! She includes "drag queens in general" among her influences, and appropriately lists her "male equivalents" as "Elton John, Freddie Mercury, Boy George, and John Lennon in wig and fishnets at Studio 54." And indeed, all indications are that Ms. GaGa—actually named for the 1984 Queen hit "Radio Ga-Ga," so there goes the joke I was gonna make about her moniker—dresses like a woman, just like some of those men did! In fact, she insists Peggy Bundy is one of her fashion icons. The video to "Just Dance," sadly, looks more glam-rock than the song sounds. But GaGa is still probably no worse than thousands of other privileged ladies of no discernible talent turned quasi-decadent divas before her.

GEORGE DUKE
George Duke used to play with both Frank Zappa and Cannonball Adderly at the same time (though not necessarily in the same room); how many people can say that? His new album is funky, too, sometimes (for instance "Sudan") almost in an early Funkadelic sort of way. Honest! It enters the Billboard 200 at No. 192, even though it is called Dukey Treats and features on its cover a sinister-smiling George holding up a tiny keyboard made of chocolate. His MySpace page, fortunately, features no off-color dookie jokes.

TEN FEET
Laid-back fake-reggae folk-rock swill from Hawaii, even more so (more fake and folk I mean) than Rebel Souljahz; both bands are getting ready to take part in the KWXX-sponsored Ho'olaule'a on Sept. 27 in Downtown Hilo. (Free admission! Live music! Great food & crafts! Sponsored by Kama'aina Motors and Kama'aina Nissan!) So is this a genre now? Do Jack Johnson and Jason Mraz have something to do with it? Their photos are both among Ten Feet's best MySpace friends, so I'm blaming them. Ten Feet feature five people (do the math!), and their Everyday entered Top World Albums at No 13 last week; this week, it climbs four notches, to No. 9. But Hawaii isn't in the rest of the "world"; it's part of the United States, right? Even ask Barack Obama! What's next, Alaska?

"Sarah Palin's views and values in NO WAY represent us as American women. We ask that our song 'Barracuda' no longer be used to promote her image. The song 'Barracuda' was written in the late 70s as a scathing rant against the soulless, corporate nature of the music business, particularly for women. (The 'barracuda' represented the business.) While Heart did not and would not authorize the use of their song at the RNC, there's irony in Republican strategists' choice to make use of it there."

Well, I'd argue that "irony" in campaign songs a concept that stretches across the aisle this year, but the whole anti-corporate aspect of "Barracuda" might just take this to the next level. Sadly, trying to find a tribute video to the song that would wash away the association for the Wilson sisters resulted in me finding a bunch of Palin-related clips and not much else, although Rasputina's take on the track is an OK effort that errs just a bit too much on this side of musical-theateriness.

Exclusive: Heart's Nancy Wilson responds to McCain campaign's repeated use of "Barracuda" [EW]

Actually...

I was a music major in college, and I've done freelance music reviews, so I've got a sort of built-in music snobbery that has very little to do with taste and more to do with being able to analyze song structure, harmonic structure and melody more than most people who haven't studied music.

On the whole, his songs are pleasant, but it's hard to silence that music-critic voice in my head that says: "OK, you've played those two chords enough now. How about trying something different?"

Of course I haven't given him anything but positive feedback, and everything else is going so well.

Should I just silence my inner critic and not worry about it, or is this a red flag that it's a bad match?

Hmm, HMM! Well, at the very least, not being original will probably get him in good with the music blogs, right? Before I pontificate any further, let's see what the "professional" says.

Amy says: One joy of being in a relationship is that you can play your two chords over and over, and the person you're with won't analyze your song structure too harshly.

I want you to have a conference with your inner music critic — and tell her to put a sock in it.

Think of it this way — how would you like it if your squeeze showed up at your workplace and offered a critique of your methodology and practice?

If your guy solicits your opinion of his music, then offer it, but start by saying something positive.

Ahh, the old "sandwich" technique. (Also, at the very least, Amy, you could have said that the inner music critic should "turn down her amp." Jeez, don't these syndicates have editors?) Anyway, I'd actually change Amy's advice to say "maybe it's time you sat your boyfriend down and told him that one thing you've always wanted to do is put your music-theory training to practical use with someone you love, thus allowing you to subtly show him how to innovate and both of you to have a fantastic bio for your one-sheet." But maybe I'm wrong! Let's all put on our agony-aunt hats and help HMM, if not with her predicament, then at least with her chosen pen name.

Inner music critic needs to take a rest [Star Tribune]
[Pic via David And Goliath Tees]

ONE-LISTEN VERDICT: The first single from Fall Out Boy's forthcoming Folie A Deux finds the foursome traveling waters that should be familiar to anyone who's tuned a radio to their local pop station recently: It has a stompy beat that recalls stadium-rock staples, not to mention that Pink breakup song that's been burning up the airwaves lately. Patrick Stump's voice sounds in fine fettle (particularly on the bridge, on which all I will say is "oh my"), and the "I don't care what you think as long as it's about me" chorus is certainly in keeping with the band's commentary-on-fame lyrical tradition, but am I wrong to want something that, well, swings its hips a little more? I'm going to just chalk this up to the band's label wanting to release a first single that would be likely to continue the success of Infinity On High's more-truncheonlike-than-its-counterparts "Thnks Fr Th Mmrs," which somehow managed to be the only song from that album that stuck around the top-40 world, despite its other singles being much, much better.

WHERE TO FIND IT: It's streaming at the band's official site, but if that doesn't work, there's always the FOB superfan-haven icecreamhdaches.

(Also, I want to point out that this would have definitely been yesterday's Intentional Leak Of The Day, but as I was posting about it from a lounge in JFK, my computer's battery crapped out. And it's still 1:30 a.m. where I am right now, so it sort of counts. Right?)

Yes, the SoundScan people found some 1,244 sales hiding within the bowels of their system, or maybe at a neglected Hot Topic somewhere in the 'burbs, and that was enough to give Slipknot the one-week win over the Game. All Hope Is Gone's final sales total is 239,516 to LAX's un-revised 238,382; whether or not the Game is going to further appeal his own SoundScan total is unknown at this point, but surely he's at least comforted by the fact that his first-week sales beat out those achieved by his former cronies in G-Unit earlier this summer.

Slipknot Edges The Game Atop Billboard 200 [Billboard]

Here's a transcript of Corgan and Jimmy Chamberlin being interviewed about the song by the somehow-still-employed shock jock Mancow Muller:

BC: Yeah, I'm going to be in the new Guitar Hero, like, actually be in the new game, which was pretty cool. We just recorded a new song, we're getting ready for our tour, we're getting ready for our 20th anniversary tour, we're getting ready to put out a Gish box set.

MM: The new song is called "G.L.O.W.", right?

BC: Yes sir.

MM: What does it stand for?

BC: Glorious Ladies of Wrestling.

MM: What?!

BC: Don't you remember the Glorious Ladies of Wrestling?

MM: Yes! Yes, I do.

BC: I bet you had a few private moments with the Glorious Ladies.

MM: I did, I did, actually. Farmer's Daughter.

BC, JC: [laughter]

Corgan, you may remember, is a longtime wrestling fan, having appeared on an ECW telecast, and even had the indignity of being called a colleague of Fred Durst. (Ouch.) Anyway, as luck would have it, we have an exclusive preview of the song for you right here and right now! MUST CREDIT IDOLATOR!!!!!

G.L.O.W. Wrestling beginning theme [YouTube]
Gorgeous Ladies Of Wrestling [Official site]
G.L.O.W. [Hipsters United]

I decided to do this entirely by numbers. Of the remaining five AOTY winners for the decade (meaning 1971-1980; all dates are the year the Grammy is given, not the year of album release), four were by artists who weren't otherwise nominated during the span. Sorry, Carole King (1972, Tapestry) and Fleetwood Mac (1978, Rumours) and the Bee Gees et. al. (1979, Saturday Night Fever). Now, if we were going to open things out a bit, the short answer would be easy: Billy Joel, who won in 1980 for 52nd Street and was then subsequently nominated four more (1981, Glass Houses; 1983, The Nylon Curtain; 1984, An Innocent Man; 1994, River of Dreams).

Within the decade, however, two artists are in the clear lead. Elton John had not two, but three nominations during the '70s, though he never won (1971, Elton John; 1975 Caribou; 1976, Captain Fantastic and the Brown Dirt Cowboy). And George Harrison won once (1973, The Concert for Bangla Desh) and was nominated earlier (1972, All Things Must Pass). Still, it's hard to see either winning, mainly because they're both English and I'm going to hazard a wild guess that a United States Library of Congress award is reserved for Americans. (Though John's longtime Atlanta residency might qualify him.)

The other Brits who've been mentioned more than once for AOTY aren't exactly recording artists, per se. Andrew Lloyd Webber and Tim Rice's musical Jesus Christ Superstar was nominated twice in a row, in 1972 and 1973, for the Broadway cast recording and the film soundtrack. I'd love to root for this to win the award next year, only that would be dishonest, because I have absolutely no patience for such nonsense once it reaches my eardrum. Of course, you could say that three of the other dual-nominees made records that basically sounded the same, too: James Taylor (1971, Sweet Baby James; 1977, JT); Chicago (1971, Chicago; 1977, Chicago X); and the Carpenters (1971, Close to You; 1972, The Carpenters). As for the Eagles (1976, One of These Nights; 1978, Hotel California), the Gershwin may yet come their way, but probably not for a while.

Library of Congress to honor Stevie Wonder [AP]

When does a genre reach its breaking point? At which step does it fold into history, no one wanting to touch it, until a re-introduction makes it eligible for lost-classic status? I wonder this about jungle a lot lately. I think I already did back when people thought it was a fad, or when the coffee-table thing came around, or whenever trudgestep exerted its all-powerful hand. Trip-hop will never die because you can dress it in all sorts of nicknames: it's a masterstroke in that way. Jungle you can't, not even when you call it "drum and bass." But surely, I figured, people would remember jungle for its mid-'90s tumult, a breathtaking explosion of sonic creativity, and leave alone the past decade's overarching sense of "whatever."

Needless to say, I've mostly been wrong so far. I actually like the more recent stuff when I encounter it, which has been more often lately than it has in a decade, thanks to the BBC Radio 1 Top 30 Independent Singles, about which I've written here before. But this isn't about those songs, but some older ones, and about the very different perspectives they offer on the style—different from each other, and different from mine, meaning not stuck in the past as I am.

Well, that's not strictly true. The first can't be, by design, since everything on it is more than a decade old, and the magazine I found it in nearly as old. Near the end of 1999, the Los Angeles dance-culture magazine Urb put together a series of lists of its top recordings of the decade: the Top 100 albums (DJ Shadow's Endtroducing... on top) and eight separate lists for singles, with hip-hop, house, and techno each getting a Top 25 and jungle, trance, abstract, breakbeat, and experimental each got a Top 10; all were listed alphabetically by artist. Here's Urb's Top 10 Jungle Singles of the '90s:

1. 4 Hero, "Universal Love" (Talkin' Loud, 1994)
2. LTJ Bukem, "Music" (Good Looking, 1993)
3. Jonny L, "Piper" (XL, 1997)
4. Krust, "Warhead" (XL, 1997)
5. Nasty Habits, "Shadowboxing" (31, 1996)
6. Omni Trio, "Living for the Future" (Moving Shadow, 1994)
7. PFM, "One and Only" (Good Looking, 1995)
8. Shy FX & UK Apachi, "Original Nuttah" (S.O.U.R., 1994)
9. Roni Size, "It's a Jazz Thing" (Full Cycle, 1994)
10. Trace, "Mutant Revisited" (No U-Turn, 1996)

I'd seen this list when it was first published—I'm an obvious mark for this sort of thing, and in 1999 I was still doing a lot of clubbing—but had forgotten about it until the end of May, when I made Portland, Ore., the last stop of a month-long road trip via Amtrak and found a copy at a used bookshop heavy on magazine back issues downtown.

Reading that jungle list again, I had a peculiar response: it seemed too American. By which I mean that while all those songs were as often well known as tracks from crossover albums—the kind American listeners discovered the music through—as they were as singles-unto-themselves. Having listened to them again a few times, I was clearly overreacting. Call it identification panic—just because I can ID the albums and comps many of them first reached me doesn't mean they weren't chosen as singles-qua-singles. And call it clinging to a golden age, because the Urb editors got a few of the songs' release dates wrong, skewing the list to 1996-97 on sight, which is the period where things started moving slower. Looking at it with the dates fixed (thanks, Discogs), it's heaviest on 1994, a glorious year for the stuff, with the pre-'93 stuff left for the breakbeat Top 10.

Nevertheless, I have my after-the-fact cavils. I like all the tracks at least some, but the harder, darker stuff here leaves me coldest, particularly "Mutant Revisited" and "Warhead." These are clearly classics, but both records, especially "Warhead," with its wowing low end and hard one-TWO beat, points the way to the shape of boredom to come, and it's hard not to hear them that way. "Living for the Future" is a very good record that I'll never love nearly as much as "Renegade Snares (Foul Play V.I.P. Remix)" or (especially) "Mystic Stepper (Feel Better)."

Cavils are cavils, though, and what I'm most surprised (and gratified) by is how charming much of the more futurist aspects are, even if they've acquired a layer of kitsch now that we're living in the actual future and not the one where ambient drum & bass would take us away like Calgon. I remember vividly the first time I heard LTJ Bukem's "Music," because I hated it. It was precisely the kind of softheaded pap I hated about the dreamier end of the post-rave spectrum; I wanted to be wowed loudly then. Today I think it's remarkable, and for most of the same reasons. You ever see smoke going through laser ring, that weird glassy wisp of green light? The implacable loop at the center of "Music" is the audio version. Back then, this sounded like a bad idea. Today its soupy-eyed idea of the endless tomorrow seems touching, somehow, the way only old science fiction that shows its age can be.

A more recent list is a little wider in its outreach. KMag used to be called Knowledge; it's a monthly devoted entirely to drum and bass, almost always packaged with a cover-mount mix CD. The July issue was its 100th, and in addition to a career spanning mix by Blame (quite nice, this), KMag asked its readers to send in their Top 5 D&B tracks ever for an overall Top 100. Tallied up, this is what the Top 10 looks like:

1. Fresh & Maldini )E|B( [a.k.a. Bad Company], "The Nine" (BC, 1998)
2. Goldie, "Inner City Life" (FFRR, 1994)
3. Konflict, "Messiah" (Renegade Hardware, 2005)
4. Roni Size/Reprazent, "Brown Paper Bag" (Talkin Loud, 1997)
5. DJ Marky & XRS ft. Stamina, "LK" (V, 2002)
6. D-Bridge & Vegas, "True Romance" (Metalheadz, 2004)
7. Omni Trio, "Renegade Snares" (Moving Shadow, 1994)
8. Ed Rush & Optical, "Gas Mask/Bacteria" (Virus, 1999)
9. LTJ Bukem, "Horizons" (Good Looking, 1995)
10. Shy FX & UK Apachi, "Original Nuttah" (S.O.U.R., 1994)

Given my biases, I should like this list less than I do the Urb one. But I might actually prefer it as a list, if not music. KMag's records aren't better overall, but they present a more interesting dynamic range. Not just because they cover a longer span, either: the Urb list seemed to circle around its era without quite tying it together, while KMag's features items that defined their particular mini-epochs, whether or not I care about them as epochs. (Hello, Bad Company.) I definitely prefer Kmag's Roni Size and Omni Trio selections to those of Urb, which nabbed the far better Bukem track. (Though you could argue that "Horizons," with its Maya Angelou sample—from the Clinton inaugural, how '90s-nostalgic can you get?—and new-age-for-real ambience is more representative of jungle's oceanic tendencies than "Music.") But maybe it's just that this one provides me more of an education. I'll never care for this stuff the way I once did, but it's nice to know it's still around and still moving, whatever its direction.

1. Start with a lede that could just as easily be repurposed for another regular column in your publication—in this case, the "romance among the whiteys" Styles staple known as the "Modern Love" column.

During his freshman year at Point Park University in Pittsburgh a couple years ago, James Acklin, now 20, felt lost among the social cliques on his new campus until he got to talking with a student who was in some of his classes. She seemed unusual, and it wasn't just her look: thick-framed eyeglasses, bangs and vintage dresses. Then, one rainy day in February, the two skipped class and went to her apartment. As soon as she opened her door his instincts were confirmed: she had a turntable. So did he. They both spoke the language of vinyl.

Their bond was sealed as soon as she placed the stylus on an LP by the band Broken Social Scene, he said in an e-mail message.

2. Tie the "vinyl resurgence" trend to another yuppie hobby that's gone from "retro cuteness" to "current, better-for-you hotness." Like growing your own veggies!

"It's almost a back-to-nature approach," Mr. Gagnon said. "It's the difference between growing your own vegetables and purchasing them frozen in the supermarket."

3. Numbers, numbers, numbers! Especially out-of-context ones that merely gloss over larger issues like dwindling shelf space for albums, the increasing price of producing vinyl, etc.

The industry had shipments of 3.4 million LPs and EPs in 1998 and just over 900,000 in 2006, according to the Recording Industry Association of America.

But shipments jumped about 37 percent in 2007, to nearly 1.3 million records. Three years ago Warner Bros. Records returned to the format when it opened becausesoundmatters.com, an online vinyl store stocked with reissues and new releases. At first, any vinyl release that sold 3,000 copies was considered a success, said Tom Biery, who oversees vinyl sales for the company. By comparison, the 2007 Wilco album, "Sky Blue Sky," surpassed 14,000 copies.

Mass-market retailers like Virgin Megastore and smaller record stores like Mondo Kim's in Manhattan are devoting more floor space to the antiquarian 12-inch disc of late. Newbury Comics, a chain of 29 music and merchandise stores in New England, has sold 400 turntables since it started selling them in June, Duncan Browne, a company executive, said.

4. Make sure to note that the vinyl resurgence has the potential to be something on which one can plunk down an absurd chunk of change.

Deluxe editions are trophies of sorts for passionate fans, Mr. Biery said. In September, for example, Warner Bros. Records will release a new Metallica album, "Death Magnetic," in a five-record box version — each of 10 songs will get its own side — for about $115.

5. And by spending all that money, your reader can stand out in a crowd! If she doesn't mind toting around a DJ bag all the time, that is.

In an era when "everybody's music collection is the same" thanks to file swapping, collecting expensive, unwieldy LPs is a conspicuous way for the superfans to advertise their cognoscenti status, he said.

"It's a customer who wants to have vinyl in their home the same way they want books in their home," Mr. Wishnow said. For such a customer, he added, the message is, " 'When I can have all the music in the world in the palm of my hand, what does it say about me that I spend $15 to $20 for this format that is a pain to store and move and is easily damaged?' "

6. Close out the piece by soothing the reader, telling her that embracing this trend will not only expand her consumeristic horizons, it'll make her smart.

"I have a ton of music on iTunes," Mr. Karoly said, "but with that music I get A.D.D. really quick. With my LPs, it's like reading a book as opposed to clicking through articles on Yahoo."

"When you put on a record," he added, "it's an event."

Another Spin For Vinyl [NYT]

• "Considering Top 40's predilection for unlined young faces, The Block's unexpected quality is no guarantee of a commercial rebirth for NKOTB, who play the Staples Center on Oct. 8. Believe it or not, though, they've got the right stuff." [LA Times]

• "And there's a bona fide smash-in-waiting with 'Put It on My Tab,' a T-Pain-styled club song helmed by Akon that is sure to make even the staunchest haters do a double-take. The Block may not break any ground musically, but it's actually strong enough to make people reconsider the New Kids' entire career and wonder what will come next." [Newsday]

• "'Summertime' isn't 'Hangin' Tough,' but it's totally '80s. The Richard Marx piano intro, dated synth patches and corny-but-catchy melody mix with a youthful, retro innocence. And that little doo-wop falsetto breakdown, like, totally rules. It's a false innocence to go with these older Kids' false youth, but it's got a hook. And after all, no one wants to hear Donnie rhyme about refilling Rogaine and Nexium prescriptions." [Boston Herald]

• "Several '80s references turn up, as in 'Swayze,' a clever reference to the movie "Dirty Dancing," and the single 'Summertime,' which openly courts nostalgia. But the now old kids don't have to look back to make a connection. A cut like '2 In The Morning,' with its airy Marvin Gaye allusion, has the kind of melody that proves they've once again got the right stuff." [NY Daily News]

Sure, the nominees this year aren't terribly exciting, but still, this particular Pussycat Dolls video? (Note: The last time the public got to vote in this process, in 2006, the then-exclamation-pointed Panic! At The Disco won with "I Write Sins not Tragedies.") Here's how the Times experts call the race:

Darrin "DoubleD" Dortch:

1) Pussycat Dolls, "When I Grow Up"
2) Chris Brown, "Forever"
3) Jonas Brothers, "Burnin' Up"
4) Britney Spears, "Piece of Me"
5) The Ting Tings, "Shut Up and Let Me Go"

David "Guru" Schnelwar:

1) Pussycat Dolls, "When I Grown Up"
2) Chris Brown, "Forever"
3) Britney Spears, "Piece of Me"
4) The Ting Tings, "Shut Up and Let Me Go"
5) Jonas Brothers, "Burnin' Up"

Both predictors admit that the best video doesn't always win (unless you consider "Waterfalls" to be superior to "Buddy Holly" in some manner), but still, what's going on here? Why is the video apparently such an artistic breakthrough that the mysterious panel of experts that picks the nominees for the awards' professional categories for needed to drop another four nominations into the Dolls' lingerie-clad laps? The legions of JoBros fans can't tip this one for "Burnin' Up"? Frankly, if the Pussycat Dolls pull off some sort of sweep, someone should check on Maura afterwards.

On a related note, I really miss the International Viewer's Choice award, last given out in 2003. Who can forget the joy we shared when Rise with Spread Beaver took the MTV Japan award in 1999 for "Pink Spider", after the tragic death of singer Hideto Matsumoto? Instead, we'll just get reaction shots of Nicole Scherzinger all night. Life can be so unfair.

MTV Video Music Awards: Pussycat Dolls will beat Britney Spears and the Jonas Brothers for top prize [LA Times]

• "While Jeezy shows fear and loathing toward George W. throughout Recession, he's got nothing but (heavy-handed) praise for Barack Obama on 'My President.' And even when club life rears its thuggish head ('Put On' with Kanye West), Jeezy is more pragmatic than dramatic. Finally, Jeezy's having an outing that's sexy and fun rather than discordant and deadly." [Philadelphia Inquirer]

• "On 'My President,' which features Nas, Jeezy dreams of a black commander in chief and invokes higher powers, presumably to help with America's dire economic situation: 'I will e-mail Jesus and tell him to forward to Moses and cc Allah.' But while the usual approach is still good for a certain seductive brawniness, there's not much here that Jeezy hasn't done before. If he doesn't push things forward a bit, his market position may slip." [RS]

• "One can argue the dubious merits of his philosophy—which can be distilled to two words: sell coke—but one can't deny Jeezy's popularity. His previous two efforts went platinum, with sales partially fueled by the rapper's 'Snowman' T-shirt line. Jeezy's sonic sins would be partially pardonable were The Recession to flash any hint of fun or humor. Instead, the street-cred-consumed caricature is more content to rip off Tupac Shakur ('Hustlaz Ambition') and write abominable hooks." [LAT]

• "At his wackiest, though—see 'My President Is Black,' which features a couple of key deviations from the Obama platform—that blunt-sucking rasp can admittedly be endearing. And considering he has evidently convinced lots of folks that he's somehow making drug dealing moral, Jeezy's brightest future might be in politics instead." [Hartford Courant]

As if on cue, Cole's band hit their spots and began to play an ominous groove that, as passing critic Andrew Matson noted, "sounds like it should be in a Michael Bay movie." But when the singer appears everything improves: the two backing singers are doing light choreography, the grooves bump nicely, and Cole herself is having a hell of a time, despite the seemingly ad hoc nature of the performance. "We can do whatever you like," she says to her band as they figure out which song to play third. Whatever they were doing for that half-hour, it wasn't writing a set list.

"How many of you watch the reality show on BET?" Cole asks her faithful; about half the kids (it's mostly kids) thronging near the stage raise their arms. She then dedicates a verse of Prince's "When Doves Cry" to her late mother. "Let It Go" ends things well enough (though the backing vocals sound completely canned), if early—a half-hour only, as opposed to the 45 minutes she's on the schedule for. (Question: does every modern R&B act's bassist also play a Korg onstage now?) That short set may have had to do with the fact that Cole was, de facto, opening for T.I., whom I skipped, though I did hear one priceless quote after the fact: apparently one of T.I.'s crew came out, looked at the large crowd, and said something to the effect of, "Damn! This is like Woodstock or something."

I headed next to the Northwest Stage, where local jazz ruled the day. It kind of ruled my day, too. I caught the tail third of Matt Jorgensen + 451, a Seattle troupe named for its drummer, and it sounded terrific—good jazz often does outdoors on a sunny day. The group (Jorgensen, keyboardist Ryan Burns, bassist Phil Sparks, saxophonist Mark Taylor) have recorded several far-from-reverent classic-rock covers as well, and they brought trumpeter Thomas Marriott up to end things with a superb "Tomorrow Never Knows" (you can download the 2002 studio version from eMusic and/or Amazon).

I settled into the very back, top row of the Leo K. Theater for the panel discussion between comics artists Daniel Clowes, Adrian Tomine, and Ivan Brunetti. Brunetti introduced the other two like a nervous fan, which he professed to be, rather charmingly, and Clowes was as deadpan and funny as you'd expect: he and Tomine met, he said, through "an online dating service," and he'd been surprised to discover that the younger artist "was in high school, stealing my work." The overall discussion was lively, if a little nuts-and-boltsy.

I took off after a half-hour to see Forro in the Dark, though I didn't exactly see them: as with Estelle the day before, I placed myself on the lawn behind the stage, where everything sounded better and I didn't have to watch anyone hippie-dance. I'd heard forro before I latched onto the New York group's 2006 debut album, and their major elimination—accordion—recasts the sound nicely, giving it a hard low end that nevertheless dances. Afterward, with time to kill, I walked to the nearby Flatstock exhibit. What do you know: one of the exhibitors was Burlesque Design, a Minneapolis firm whose membership got its start by publishing the great Life Sucks Die.

LSD was a late-'90s Twin Cities graffiti 'zine that in retrospect looks like the prototype for Vice, particularly the "Things You May Have Slept On" reviews section. (On Slum Village: "Hey, you know what? I just realized that Slum Village came out eight years ago, but they were called The Nonce. Except back then, they had something interesting to say, and their beats were fresh. But nobody remembers The Nonce, cuz they didn't wear vintage leather coats and stylish hats.") Anyway, the Burlesque table had five back issues of LSD for five bucks each, and I snapped them up. Bumbershoot nostalgia: it's not just for main stage headliners!

Back to the Northwest Stage for the Tiptons Sax Quartet: Amy Denio, Jessica Lurie, Sue Orfield, and Tina Richerson, accompanied by drummer Chris Stromquist. (The group is named for Billy Tipton, the jazz player—piano, sax—who lived and worked as a man.) The group sang a fair amount, and while it was pleasant enough, it was mere warm-up for the playing, which was constantly rich and robust, especially in unison, which was often. Finally, some friends and I made our way to the Black Keys, in the stadium, opening for Stone Temple Pilots. Pleasant enough, but not compelling enough to stick around for—sorry, Brother Ali.

I feel less thrilled about Bumbershoot this year—less than I ever have. I'm hardly alone: this is the weakest lineup the festival has put up in quite some time. Some of it is clearly due to the exorbitant number of competing festivals that occur earlier in the summer, both locally (Seattle has festivals like it has grey days) and nationally, to thin the available touring pool. But seriously, Stone Temple Pilots as your big-name headliner? Them? Are the '00s really so bad that we're actually nostalgic for this shit? I dunno, man.

In any event, so little about the lineup excites me this year that I figure I'm in decent shape just wandering about and seeing what happens. Saturday, the first day, worked out fairly well, though by the end of the day I'd already circled shows I wanted