MusicWarship

I have been. Thankfully, some surprising, relaxing, slightly odd pop produced by the Fleet Foxes — another great pick-up by Sub Pop — has come along to soothe:

MP3: Fleet Foxes - “Tiger Mountain Peasant Song” (from Fleet Foxes, 2008).

MP3: Fleet Foxes - “White Winter Hymnal” (from Fleet Foxes, 2008).

PS A total ad, but I’d love you to check these out:

I’m over at The Sport Count (all about bad contracts, great signings, surprising trades and the best of the NBA) and The League Count (about rugby league, launched yesterday, and already a lot of great stories about very big men hitting the shit out of each other).

C’mon, Kobe! Put up 45 points, with 9 assists. The assists are important. Otherwise people might wrongfully accuse you of being selfish.

And Lamar, take down 15 boards and inexplicably hit two threes. Please. Luke Walton, be a ‘great glue guy’ with a ‘high basketball IQ.’ (PS I love your tattoo of monkeys dunking basketballs. That’s what it is, right?). Chris Mihm, keep those muscles warm; you never know when Phil will mouth those magic words: ‘thirty. one.’ And then those other three: ‘yes, Chris. You!’

And Pau? Just keep that beard. Don’t even think about shaving. You’re beautiful.

MP3: Kobe Bryant - “K.O.B.E.” (Feat. Tyra Banks) (from Eight, 2001).

MP3: Warren Zevon - “Join Me In L.A.” (from Warren Zevon, 1976).

Oh, and fellas: do all that three times in a row. And yeah, two of them will be at the fake Garden.

For the good of basketball, the Lakers need to beat the Spurs.

Yes, the spastic hyper-physicality of Manu Ginobili entertains, and Mr. Longoria sure can break ankles, and you’re forced to respect the semi-automatic clutchness of The Big Fundamental… but the Spurs have to go. No more debates about sly ankle pokes and hip-shot elbows from Bruce Bowen, no more opportunities for Big Shot Rob to lay big shots on smaller men, no more chances for your mates to drunkenly sing ‘I love it when you call me Big Poppa!’ at the television.

We need Kobe Bryant in the finals. A vicious competitor at the top of his game, cursed with an inability to censor his frustration, and fully capable of scoring a half-century when a game demands it (and frustratingly, sometimes when a game doesn’t).

We need the long arms of Lamar Odom punching into the lane for a silky soft two-step lay-up. We need Pau Gasol screaming and intense, fully focused on a) dominating the boards b) looking for the open man when the Spurs double down in the post and c) discovering fire.

And, most of all, we need Ronny Turiaf covered in towels, screaming French obscenities after every dunk, pushing his teammates over.

Good luck to the Lakers today. In San Antonio, they’ll need it.

MP3: Tupac - “California Love” (from All Eyez On Me, 1996).

MP3: The Game - “California Vacation Feat. Xzibit & Snoop” (from Doctor’s Advocate, 2006).

MP3: Red Hot Chili Peppers - “Hollywood” (from Freaky Styley, 1985). The Peppers have to be here, considering they’re such Laker freaks.

MP3: Warren Zevon - “Join Me In L.A.” (from Warren Zevon, 1976).

PS If Phil Jackson needs something funny to fire the boys up, perhaps a copy of T.P. will do the trick. Just hope Big Poppa doesn’t bring his copy of the K.O.B.E. EP.

Sorry Alyk and you fine Bostonians. I love the Celtics, and I love Brady’s stunning chin, but the next week, at least, is all about New York.

New York: the greatest city in the world. And a city in desperate need of something to repair the damage Isiah Thomas has done to sport in the city.

So, celebrate New York. I know you will.

MP3: Ray Charles - “New York’s My Home” (from Genius + Soul = Jazz, 1960).

MP3: Harry Nilsson - “I Guess The Lord Must Be In New York City” (from Harry, 1969).

MP3: They Might Be Giants - “New York City” (from Factory Showroom, 1996).

MP3: Ryan Adams - “New York, New York” (from Gold, 2001). (C’mon, this was always going to be here).

MP3: Ja Rule - New York (from R.U.L.E., 2004).

MP3: Fun Lovin’ Criminals - “King Of New York” (from Come Find Yourself, 1966). (Sure, it’s about John Gotti. But let’s pretend it’s about Eli or Plaxico).

My boys did it. They made the Super Bowl. Now all that remains is for Eli Manning to throw for 100 yards, two interceptions, and one touchdown in an absolute beatdown at the hands of Brady and friends from Boston. It is, sadly, going to happen. At least the G-Men will be a major player in the greatest NFL season in history.

The inevitable thrashing hasn’t stopped me putting some real money on the Giants at 5-1. All that remains for me is to get the Doritos and Miller Chills ready, put some cushions on the couch, and get an appropriate soundtrack for Super Bowl Sunday (or Super Bowl Monday, as it’s known in Sydney). And here it is — game-ready, hip-hop heavy and loud enough for some real yelling:

MP3: Jay-Z - “Dirt Off Your Shoulder” (from The Black Album, 2003).

MP3: T.I. - “Bring ‘Em Out” (from Urban Legend, 2004).

MP3: Ja Rule - “New York” (from R.U.L.E, 2004).

MP3: Kanye West - “Champion” (from Graduation, 2007).

MP3: Dropkick Murphys - “I’m Shipping Up To Boston” (from The Warrior’s Code, 2005).

And a song I insist ESPN play before the game, accompanied by slow motion highlights from the Pats’ and G-Men season.

MP3: The All-American Reject - “It Ends Tonight” (from Move Along, 2005).

It’s the NBA, and it kicks off today. Oh almighty lord, I am excited. I can’t wait to see some very big men playing a very good sport, whinging to the press, popping off rounds in strip clubs, throwing cake at random punters on the street, and not feeding their dogs.

To celebrate this holiest of days, we’ll have a red hot listen to the musical works of one K. Bryant. Despite being the most talented baller of the past decade, Kobe is constantly slagged as an egomaniacal dickface. Sure, his private and public criticisms of teammates and owners might have an adverse effect on Laker chemistry, but the guy once scored 81 points in a game. He could’ve ended the game by lopping off Andrew Bynum’s head in an Apocalypto-esque ritual sacrifice and I wouldn’t give a shit. For mine, Kobe can do no wrong; sports geniuses are supposed to be aloof and egotistical.

He’s the most electrifying man you could put on a basketball court, but behind the microphone he’s… well, a bit less good:

MP3: Kobe Bryant - “K.O.B.E.” (Feat. Tyra Banks)

MP3: Kobe Bryant - “Thug Poet” (Feat. Nas & Broady Boy)

Negatives reasons Ron Artest is famous: a) was a central figure in arguably the most infamous brawl in sports history - the 2004 Pacers-and-Pistons bust-up at the Palace of Auburn Hills - and was subsequently suspended for 73 games b) had his dog Socks taken away earlier this year because he inexplicably stopped feeding it c) asked his Sacramento Kings coach Rick Adelman for a month off during the season to promote his substantially retarded debut rap album d) is constantly suspended for headbutting opposition players and generally acting like a cockhead.

Positive reasons Ron Artest is famous: a) is an unbelievable defensive presence, and a top-notch offensive threat.

MP3: Ron Artest - “Cash Money (Featuring Juvenile)”

MP3: Ron Artest - “La La Ladies”

Most basketball rappers share the one fundamental problem: they’re not very good at rapping. As such, weak-kneed, weed-smoking, bribe-accepting son of Michigan Chris Webber is impressive simply because his rhymes aren’t completely retarded.

Thanks to sports fiend CK Dexter Haven (peep the blog), the Warship picked up a track from C-Webb’s 1999 indie effort 2 Much Drama — an apt title considering the album dropped right after police charged the big man with second-degree assault, resisting arrest, possession of marijuana, driving under the influence of marijuana, and a bunch of traffic violations.

Not the best thing I’ve ever heard, but certainly not the worst:

MP3: Chris Webber - “Ain’t Nuttin To Do (Featuring Redman)”

Bonus track: Shaquille O’Neal can do it all — he’s a police officer, breakdancer, thespian, and the most dominant centre since Wilt Chamberlain*. If you’re after someone who raps like they’re chewing gravel while snorkelling, he can totally do that too:

MP3: Shaquille O’Neal - “Mic Check 1-2 Feat. Al Skratch”

*Only history knows if O’Neal will challenge the late great Stilt for the title of ‘Most Dominant Pantsman’ now that his wife is out of the picture. For the record, Chamberlain laid claim to 20 000 bed sessions — or nine women a week since the age of 15. Get your mack cracking, Shaq Diesel.

Gary Payton, then a member of the Seattle Supersonics, was given the nickname ‘The Glove’ when he had a scorcher of a game in 1993 against the Phoenix Suns. His cousin said ‘you’re holding [Phoenix point guard] Kevin Johnson like a baseball in a glove.’ And after that, people started calling him ‘The Glove.’

Is this seriously an acceptable standard for NBA nicknames? Ballers should have majestic nicknames — pseudonyms that lift them to the heavens, cementing them as gods of the hardcourt. Think ‘His Royal Airness,’ ‘Magic’ Johnson, or ‘The Reign Man’ (later changed to ‘The Pie Man’ after Kemp went on a strict all-pie diet a few years back).

If Gary Payton can cop such a disappointingly obvious, super-literal nickname, you’ll end up with guys named ‘The Shoehorn’ and ‘The Cork’ and ‘The Photocopier’ (although perhaps Donyell Marshall should be given that, because his shot never ever works and no one knows how to fix it — oh Donyell, you just got burned. But seriously, stop putting up threes).

Having said that, I shouldn’t give Payton too hard a time; no nickname is as superbly obvious and shockingly retarded as Karl ‘The Mailman’ Malone. Because he delivers, right? Yeah? You get it? Oh shit, that’s genius bitches. If Karl Malone rapped it’d be about running over immigrants in his truck and setting fire to bushland and shooting the goddamned shit out of wild geese.

Anyway, here is Gary ‘The Knee Brace’ Payton rapping. You won’t be especially surprised that it’s very silly (though you will be surprised to find a bit of a Tracy Chapman vibe in the opening bars):

MP3: Gary Payton - “Livin’ Legal And Large”

Bonus: a track by journeyman swingman Malik Sealy, who I’ve just found out was killed in May 2000 by a drunk driver. The good news is Lost In The Sauce is one of the better rap efforts by a baller — it’s got a bit of a US3 flavour:

MP3: Malik Sealy - “Lost In The Sauce”

Along with being arguably the best point guard since Magic Johnson, Jason Kidd is best known for the domestic abuse charges laid against him in 2001. After pleading guilty, he gave up the booze, spent every Sunday at church, and reconciled with his wife. Unfortunately in early 2007 he filed for divorce from the missus, citing ‘extreme cruelty’ during their relationship (she counter-claimed that he broke one of her ribs).

But forget that he’s a triple double threat every night, forget his marital problems. You need to focus on how much Jay Kidd loves to party. He really likes it a lot. And when he throws a party, you could not compare said party to any other party — the main difference being that a Jay Kidd party does not stop.

Put that love of partying to a beat delivered straight from Dr. Dre’s Cali beat factory circa ‘93 and you’re on to a real winner of a track:

MP3: Jason Kidd - “What The Kidd Didd” (Featuring Money R.)

Bonus track: Former Laker and Sun Cedric Ceballos was a skilled scorer and a mean dunker — he won the Dunk Comp in ‘92 after putting one home blindfolded. He was given the nickname ‘Ice’ by Ice Cube (the equivalent of me giving a mate the nickname ‘Anton’ — both confusing and significantly retarded). Also, he was friends with Warren G, the number one regulator of the 90s:

MP3: Cedric Ceballos - “Flow On” (Featuring Warren G)

My favourite part? When he tells us eating ‘chicken wings one by one’ is ‘good clean fun.’ Wow.