LAG!::, 1*
Saturday night dive
The XFL’s “not quite ready for primetime
players ” are tackling everything but ratings
by Kristi S. Holliday
and Deanna Symoski
staff writer and a&e editor
Touchdown? More like a
fumble. WWF superpower Vince
McMahon's XFL isn’t doing as well
as he expected. The x-treme football
league's ratings are down 75% since
it aired the first week.
Bad luck or beginner's
flaw? McMahon seems hopeful for a
second season, citing that he, along
with the Peacock, need to take a long
range approach. Although he is dis
appointed with the new ratings,
McMahon believes that after a sec
ond season the XFL will be as suc
cessful as the NFL.
NBC isn’t so sure. The league has
inadvertently tackled “Saturday Night
Live” by pushing the show to after
midnight when XFL games run long.
The much-anticipated Jennifer Lopez
episode didn’t begin until well after
midnight., and by then, few night owls
were left to watch. NBC reran the
show only weeks later.
In addition, local news casts are
also starting much later when games
run over, creating a problem in the
lead-in ability of the league. To
counter, NBC has started shopping
around for programming to fill the
ratings black hole that is devouring
viewers on Saturday's primetime
Busting
Shaggy takes
‘Hotshot’up the
charts
by Paige Miles
copy editor
He claims it wasn’t him, but 32-
year-old Orville Richard Burrell,
a.k.a. Shaggy, has found his place on
the Billboard charts in recent months.
His album “Hotshot” has four times
gone platinum with a voice and tunes
comparable to reggae star Bob
Marley.
Shaggy might not sport the bright
threads that Marley did, but his fame
and list of accomplishments is no less
remarkable. At age 18, Shaggy ar
rived in Brooklyn, New York, with a
desire to perform. His fame, how
ever, didn’t skyrocket at that point.
He released a few songs to make
waves in local dancehalls, but then
took a break from the recording busi
ness to join the ranks of the Marines.
After being in active duty during the
Gulf War, he came back to find an
offer from Virgin Records waiting in
Movies
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schedule. The network would like to
find tentative shows to fill in gaps cre
ated by the XFL next season. Yes, next
season. Despite the trouble the league
has created, NBC, at this point, is still
dedicated to running games. Whether
they remain in primetime may be an
down Billboard's door
Shaggy
the wings
Shaggy’s 1993 album “Pure Plea
sure” produced the single “Oh Caro
lina,” to be followed two years later
with “Boombastic,” the single and
the album, which hit the top by win
ning a Grammy for Best Reggae Al
bum. After the rush of success,
Shaggy hit a rut. He was dropped
from Virgin Records, possibly be
cause of his failed third album
“Midnite Lover." Executives at Vir
gin Records likely regret their deci
sion.
e^feiC|e
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issue advertisers have to contend with.
So why are the ratings down for a
football league created by the owner
of billion-dollar wrestling empire?
Some may say that despite the slim,
sexy cheerleaders and foaming-at-the
mouth extreme players, the league
The film “How
Stella Got Her Groove
Back” provided a ray
of light for the artist.
MCA Records offered
Shaggy a chance to
record the single “Luv
Me, Luv Me” with
Janet Jackson for the
soundtrack. The song
became a hit on pop ra
dio. Shaggy’s next and
current album
“Hotshot” has driven
him to even higher
popularity. The first
single “It Wasn’t Me,”
the tale of a man
caught by his girlfriend
having an affair with the “girl next
door” flew up the charts. “Angel,” the
second single released off the album,
has had the same fortune. “Angel” is
a remake of Merrilee Rush’s 1968
song “Angel of the Morning,” which
has been covered many times by art
ists such as Olivia Newton John and
The Pretenders’ Chrissy Hynde. The
song includes basslines from the
Steve Miller Band hit “The Joker.”
Shaggy and his associates are lav
ishing in their massive success and
fame. Shaggy himself has started his
Music *
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Timebomb
Ben Harper
Live From Mars
■pi ' pi
provides no real feel of athletics, es
pecially when compared to the com
petitiveness that the NFL
and other professional sports
provide. Others say that it is because
the so-called sport provides no memo
ries, no spunk. And of course, part of
the problem is that it was created by
the owner of a billion dollar wrestling
empire.
The same stigmas that abound in
professional wrestling have cast doubt
over the legitimacy of the football
enterprise. Critics are skeptical of plot
tampering, making the football as fake
as the wrestling. While it is widely ac
cepted in the realm of professional
wrestling, NFL fans may not be ac
customed to watching predetermined
football.
From the McMahon standpoint, a
risk has been taken in even starting
the XFL. According to the WWF mil
lionaire, money will be spent, and
more risks taken in order to throw the
XFL into the winning end zone.
The push continues on Monday and
Thursday nights during WWF RAW
and Smackdown, as well as blatant
advertising that solicits ratings. New
promos actually admit they know no
one is watching, and that they will do
anything to get viewers, including
using the cheerleaders.
The football doesn’t fall far from
the goal post
own record label. Big Yard, while the
lead vocalist on “Angel,” Bruce
Brewster, is looking into a solo ca-
reer. But anyone who rises to great
success is bound to have his critics.
Shaggy and company have been criti
cized for not holding true reggae
style. Instead of the stereotypical
reggae dreadlocks, Shaggy sports
cornrows, and as for being a Rasta,
he claims to turn down any joints that
pass his way.
Whether or not Shaggy is true to
pure reggae style, his songs have
proved to be successful on the charts
with a mix of Jamaican and Latin
beat. This “Hotshot” expects his al
bum be on top for months to come.
Shaggy will appear at Behrend
on April 19 at 8 p.m. in the ARC.
Student tickets are $l5 with a
limit of four. Tickets go on sale
Thursday, March 29, at 7 a.m.
Baby Sham will open for Shaggy.
DVD*
The 6th Day
Rugrats in Paris
Red Planet
Charlie's Angels
Em
Fid(
by Deanna Symoski
Listener
Supported?
How radio is killing
the authenticity of music
I can remember nearly passing out in the 95-degree sun one afternoon two
summers ago. The other stage at Woodstock ’99 had to be shut down because
Dave Matthews was about to play for 250,000 people, and I think I was the
only one who didn’t care. I was bored that afternoon. His songs took
forreevveerr. I just wanted to hear “Ants Marching” and go find some water
and a place to sit down.
1 wasn’t a fan.
Fast forward to the moment I really listened to “Lie in Our Graves.” I heard
the genius in his lyrics, a poetic approach to the mundane and the innocently
beautiful. I took the journey in his music, sweeping me and those devoted
enough to listen carefully to some other place by the end of it —no matter how
long it took. I could feel summer in his images, walkin’ along the water. I
could hear the desperation of chances passed, what we might have...
Dave Matthews. The name to me now encapsulates a world of music based
on impressive talent and an instinct about the human experience only those
with the patience to notice can ever really explain. His songs are long, and
sometimes he mumbles. But that’s Dave, and you either like him or you don’t.
If you do, you find ways to hear him, actively seeking out the opportunity to
engage his music. If you don’t like him, you probably don’t know the words
to any of his songs, and have only a vague idea of the names of one or two.
That is, until this newest CD, Everyday. With “I Did It” now in heavy
rotation, everyone knows the words —fan or not.
But this isn’t a review of Everyday, there’s been enough of that. This isn’t
even an homage to a great musician, though it may seem so up to here. This is
about radio, the great thief of music majesty.
If video killed the radio star, radio stars are killing music. Not everyone
likes Dave Matthews, I know that. But until now, those who didn’t weren’t
forced to listen to him. Matthews was embraced by those who appreciated him
and ignored by everyone else. Thanks to airplay, however, his music is being
whored out for mainstream popularity, and cheapening the experience of what
used to be art. A three minute song on the radio is not Dave Matthews. It is the
dumbing down of his music so that it’s fit for airplay—and any listener.
But it isn’t just the Dave situation that’s brought this epidemic to light.
Phish pulled the same 180 when it released “Heavy Things.” The lack of a
linear musical form made everyone except a true Phish head nervous prior to
any mainsfream exposure, but one shot on the radio and suddenly heads
everywhere were bobbing. Newsflash: that’s not what Phish really sounds
like! That’s the version radio finds lit for air. You want to experience the real
sound of the band, you go to the show, because like Dave Matthews, some
things can only really be experienced live.
The same goes for other, less prolific bands, such as Matchbox Twenty. I
am a big fan of the band, but not because I know all the words to “If You’re
Gone" Any 14-year-old could rattle them off, but I dare her to come up with a
full verse of “Kody.” The problem is that music stops being music—an
artform —and becomes little more than background noise while you’re driving
to the grocery store, thinking about your rotten day. Meaningful songs don’t
have the chance to make the impact they were meant to when they are cut
down or played six times every hour on every station.
Perhaps radio thinks it is doing some sort of philanthropic service to those
bands that may not have mainstream recognition. What it is actually doing,
however, is picking away at a fan base the strength of which mainstream
bands don’t have. There is almost something elite about knowing a band
before everyone else does, or loving a kind of music that others simply don’t
get. It forges a bond that makes the live performance intimate among
thousands of people.
Maybe this is why I am so bitter about the fact that the majority of people
with floor seats at that Matchbox Twenty show were under the age of 18.
They don’t get the soul in the music, and neither do people like me at Phish
shows, but that’s why I don’t go. Who would want these kinds of pseudo-fans,
these people who consider themselves an authority on the act because they
know the words to that one song. Airwaves may take music to a broader
audience, but the people who like a band for what they hear on the radio are
the people who only go to wedding receptions for the free booze.
And so I’ll flip through stations when the CD player isn’t readily at hand,
and I’ll remember the good ol’ days. Days when Dave Matthews’ first priority
was filling concert venues not air time, and when no one but angry kids with a
good ear knew who Limp Bizkit was. I’ll think of a time when the Goo Goo
Dolls played in garages, not elevators, and when music meant something to
the people who listened to it.
Be a fan.
Hi-'A( ON
FRIDAY, MARCH 23,2001