Canada’s biggest emo rapper is furious about being misquoted, and also having his cover stolen out from under him by a dead man.
Here’s the thing that people don’t understand about red carpet events: They imagine this glamorous lifestyle where Will Smith or the members of N’Sync will come and chit-chat with you about what they’re wearing or how excited they are to be there, and you’ll all laugh like you’re old friends while someone films the entire thing. (So that is why you should get super dressed up, ladies!)
The reality, most of the time, is a lot more like manual labor camps. You and hundreds of other people are assigned a place based on numerical order and how important the staff deems you to be. For example, print media is just before online websites, but after the radio and everyone else. (Sorry, really disillusioned lady from Elle.com!) You are sent to mingle in a holding pen, crammed in with hundreds of other hungry, crazy-eyed journos and magazine freelancers, some of whom will take up inordinate amounts of space with their equipment and some of whom will be openly agitated and/or weeping. When someone sneezes inside these close quarters, you think, this is how epidemics are started.”
You are not allowed to leave your little cattle pen, until someone with a clipboard and eight burly bodyguards starts barking out numbers, of which you are one, because that is all you are to them—a number. You scramble to get up and enter the arena, where you are escorted past the salivating fans straight out of The Hunger Games and marched all the way to some previously unknown area of the perimeter, right next to the dumpsters. There is a gate separating you from the red carpet. You cannot cross that gate; that is verboten. But if you’re lucky, like at last night’s MTV Video Music Awards (VMAs) there will be a little place card on the floor with your publication on it, making it harder for poachers to snatch your spot.
Then you wait for two hours while deafening screams reach your little annex in Siberia. What is going on? No one can say. The fans have a better view than you do.
the fieri follies
Tonight at 10p.m., CBS airs the Grammy Awards Nomination Concert, a splashy special co-hosted by Taylor Swift (whose album Red, despite having come out in 2012, won’t be recognized this year due to the eligibility calendar). So who will be nominated? We have a few minimally educated guesses:
Much-maligned restaurateur Guy Fieri–he of the midtown eatery Guy’s American Kitchen and Bar, lambasted in these pages–has met sad-clown rapper Drake, and the pair cooked up a… maroon-and-yellow-looking dish, flavored with Donkey Sauce and Drake’s tears over Rihanna. Rap-Up reports that the photo, taken by Instagram user wordonrd, took place at Read More
This morning brought MTV’s announcement of its Video Music Awards nominees, with established pop artists like Rihanna and Katy Perry competing with upstarts like Gotye and girl-of-the-moment Carly Rae Jepsen. In the marquee category, Video of the Year, the nominees are:
- Drake ft. Rihanna, “Take Care”
- Gotye ft. Kimbra, “Somebody That I Read More
After a high-profile shutdown that involved a nexus of outrage gathering local politicians, celebrities, and nightlife, the SoHo nightclub that yielded the thrown bottle heard ’round the world—W.I.P., the site of the Drake and Chris Brown brawl—is on the way to re-opening.
New York’s club scene is still dealing with the aftermath of the Chris Brown/Drake row earlier this month at the SoHo underground hotspot W.i.P. The city has shut down the venue for 14 violations following the fight on June 14th, when a barrage of flying bottles and broken glass rained down upon innocent bystanders.
After last week’s glass-shattering fracas between Drake and Chris Brown at SoHo’s W.i.P., New York’s nightclub scene might be seeing a dip in bottle service. Hey, we’re not complaining.
IN THE CLUB
New York may need a time-out to sit and think about what it’s done. According to Mayor Bloomberg, who has already made it clear that NYC citizens will no longer be able to sneak smoking breaks in the park or in their own homes (or anywhere else, really), he is now worried that we’re all fat people ferrying prostitutes to and fro.
So, what’s it take for a club to get shut down by the NYPD these days?