Never before has the vote for a Survivor winner — let alone any other moment on Survivor — left me as conflicted as that of Survivor: Samoa.
Never before has the vote for a Survivor winner — let alone any other moment on Survivor — left me as conflicted as that of Survivor: Samoa.
• It's the Blair Witch of the 2000s, and almost as good.
… but I know that he has big hair and I really, really dig his synthy song "Don't Bring Flowers," which sounds very 1986 but also very now, which works for me in a way that Nickelback and Taylor Swift would never understand. Even better, I nicked the song as a free download off Popjustice. While it has the retro thing going, the song also has smart lyrics. The refrain of "Don't bring flowers after I'm dead / Save your givings for the living instead" has burrowed with sinister fashion into my brain. In the press materials, Hassle (only 20 years old!) says the song deals with a person who didn't make much of an impression in life, yet everyone is at his funeral. “And that’s like regular life," he says, "where you’re treated like sh*t then people worry about it afterwards. You can’t just stand by not caring: who are you to mourn, don’t touch me when I’m in my coffin.” 
I've never been a big concertgoer — not many good shows come within easy reach of me here in the relative boonies — but I've managed to see a few interesting ones. In September, though, I will add what for me is the ultimate live performance to the list: The Pet Shop Boys Pandemonium tour at the Chastain Park Amphitheater in Atlanta.
Michael Jackson's Bad was one of the first CDs that I owned, alongside Actually by the Pet Shop Boys and Jody Watley's self-titled solo debut. As a 14-year-old drawn to the embarrassment of riches of electronic pop filling the airwaves, I wasn't impressed by the first single from Bad, the rather sappy ballad "I Just Can't Stop Loving You" with Siedah Garrett, but most of the rest of the album offset that first impression. Bad became a hot topic at school, and I can remember trying to work out the lyrics to "Smooth Criminal" with my friends: "Eddie are you walking? Are you walking? Are you walking, Eddie?"
Another sign that the world is moving on arrived in my e-mail box today: A note from BMG Music Service informing me that the music club is folding as of June 30. I guess this time they really mean it when they say the offer for that stack of CDs comes "with nothing more to buy … ever."