Addendum: I've made my first NYLPM post; a review of Destiny's Child's "Bootylicious". Go check it out, then come back and heckle me.

Behold my mighty pen! It's official: I'm now a part of the New York London Paris Munich team. This means I'll have to, like, actually edit my contributions and try to think of erudite comments. Not too intimidating.

Actually, I think I'll become the "wacky" team member; I'll write disjointed, rambling reviews that make tenuous connections between the single of the week and the splintering of Yugoslavia, all the while peppering my prose with tortured metaphors and making very few cogent comments about the music itself. Oh wait, that's what Pitchfork is for! (Oh, meow. At least I've got the "bitchy journalist" pose down pat.)

In all seriousness, I'm very excited about this. Here's a chance to babble about music on a forum that isn't a vanity project. IT can only make me a better writer. (Or garner email abuse, which wouldn't matter because then at least more people would EMAIL ME. Thanks to those of you who have dropped me a line; I appreciate it.)

NOTE: The Pitchfork slam was for the purposes of a cheap joke and should not be taken as a serious comment. It's all about the love, y'all. And being a back-pedalling wimp.

Tricky - Rare illness almost destroyed my career: Wow. And here I was thinking it was the piles and piles of marijuana he was smoking that made him paranoid and delusional. My bad.

When idols go awry: Oh, Prince, say it ain't so! Damn. (Sorry, darn.)

Blink-182 star in stalker horror: As far as stalker horrors go, this one's pretty tame. I mean, okay; the person has proclaimed undying love for Travis and followed him around for awhile. The main thing this person did was unlock his doors. I mean, I'd be creeped out, too, but I certainly wouldn't arm myself to the teeth and start buying rottweilers based on someone opening my front and back doors. Chances are he forgot to put his alarm on.

Then again, this person is stalking the most alien-looking member of a mediocre band. Perhaps Travis is more self-aware than I thought.

Mariah Carey + Rick James? When Ned first pointed me towards this, I laughed. No, I did more than laugh; I chortled, hooted, guffawed, snorted, snickered, chuckled, howled, and tittered. Once I wiped the tears from my eyes, though, my brain began to percolate. Stray thoughts zipped through my head like, "Rick James is actually a pretty good musician/songwriter. Hmm..." The clincher, though, is seeing that one of the greatest songs EVER is to be ressurrected for the movie. Everyone on the planet owes it to themselves to hear "Candy" by Cameo. I have nothing but respect for anyone who gives proper respect to that song. (Of course, if they screw it up, I will come down hard with machine guns blazing.)

(Oh yeah, I'm back. Hide the sheep.)