The OF Tape, Vol. 2 - Odd Future

Meh...

Looks like my self-imposed deadline system has come undone after one week. My bad, my bad. I had to do some surprise homework for my "real" job.

Bear witness to the the new hotness: a sixth ratings category! Yes, the category is meh..., as in I can hear effort behind the album, but either it's difficult to understand, and/or not suited for a cuts only rating, and/or it just didn't leaving me wanting to listen to it again.

With that, Odd Future (ok, ok ... Odd Future Wolf Gang Kill Them All) in its new album, The OF Tape, Vol. 2, has a little bit of all those attributes I listed above. Observing these L.A. hip-hop skate punks in their natural habitat is like subjecting yourself to a bad acid trip — some elements are what you've been expecting, while others are just an unintelligible and sometimes frightening mix that makes you want to cower in a corner.

I place a lot of the culpability on Tyler, The Creator as well as Left Brain, who were in charge of producing the album and strive for their beats to be weird for the sake of weird. There are times when the eccentrics of these beats lend themselves to some tracks like on "Lean," on which the production doesn't overpower Hodgy Beats's wordplay. But, in this case, whatever momentum is gained through a good track is soon lost. The next song, "Analog 2," has a beat that's entirely too distracting for the listener. Jumping from a Tyler's deliberate delivery to a ballad from Frank Ocean, adding a sound effect in the background (something like an atonal "YEEUAH YEEUAH") puts the brakes on quickly ... then it moves into some kind of slow jam with who I guess is Tyler singing in a low bass expanding on Frank Ocean's chorus. Does that seem like a lot of verbiage to describe one song? F^ck yeah, it does. That painfully long sentence still doesn't do the song its beautifully confusing justice.

For all the experimenting with the production, I also expected the lyricism to be a little better. For example, while Tyler is clearly the master of the group, he goes to the pederast well a few too many times. OK, fine. Great MCs like Eminem and Ice Cube used pedophilia in their rhymes regularly — it's a pretty common trope. Still, I'm offended, and not for the obvious reason. I say it because these two rappers only used it once or maybe twice on one album. I think Tyler played this card at least three times on The OF Tape, Vol. 2 before I stopped counting. If you have the opportunity to put out a whole album to showcase your talent, be fresh with it. Don't use the same metaphors. With these missteps, Hodgy Beats steps up his game as the best MC on this album; however, with his quiet delivery, his voice unfortunately cannot carry over the din of the production at times.

The saving grace of this album is the group dynamic. The final track, "Oldie," shows the group dynamic is still stronger than individual egos. It's simplicity in that almost everyone in the OFWGKTA phalanx raps a only few bars shows that, when everything is taken away, these guys are just a bunch of young dudes who want to rhyme.

But, besides this good collaboration at the end, this hodgepodge of an album is difficult to decipher. Maybe what it lacked was a real producer to get a sense of everyone's flow and make music that accompanies each member's characteristics. Maybe the guys needed to have less fun and concentrate on creating a good rap record instead of acting like Andy Kaufman if he wore a fitted. While certainly not a failure, this effort leaves a lukewarm impression.

For Your Consideration: "Oldie."

For Next Time: Looks like Jack White's album isn't coming out until April. What a shame ... Ja guys want the Hunger Games soundtrack?

This Week in Music 3/18-3/24: Ultra Music Festival XIV or "The Next Step Toward Ravenous Supremacy"

There is a movement afoot; one that has tried to get a foothold for decades, but is slowly permeating every facet and subculture of music today. DJs are now as recognizable as the most famous popstars. Your favorite artists are dying for these spinners to sample their songs or to get a featured credit performing on new beats. You might have even had the awkward situation of introducing your parents to a new flame who dresses in garish neon clothes and has a penchant to use the word “rage” at the dinner table.

That movement is Electronic Dance Music, or EDM, and its Bonaroo-Coachella-Lollapalooza equivalent happened this weekend in Miami’s Bayfront Park. It’s called Ultra — the Ultra Music Festival XIV to be exact. According to the Wall Street Journal (America’s No. 1 music periodical), 200,000 ravers cut off bridge traffic from Miami to South Beach, and many more watched the simulcast online. Such enthusiasm shows why this is the fastest growing musical undercurrent as we continue to march on into the young decade.


Unless you’ve been actively avoiding this Dance Dance Revolution, you would recognize the names of featured headliners like Avicii, Deadmau5 and David Guetta. If not, you might know some other people who made surprise appearances. How about socialite and former sex-tape star Paris Hilton? She hopped about on stage to the music of her new boyfriend, Afrojack. You may remember ‘90s trip-hop DJ Fat Boy Slim (The funk's your brother. Remember him?). He did a set incorporating his favorites as well as mixes of the new EDM kings, such as Tiesto’s “Work Hard, Play Hard” and Chuckie’s “I’m in Miami Bitch.” Will.i.am and David Guetta premiered a new track. And how about Madonna, who also showed up to jam to Avicii’s new remix of her song “Girl Gone Wild" and asking everyone if they had “seen Molly” (Hey, who’s Molly? Oh! That Molly. Lol. Madonna’s a silly old bitch).



The fact that this year’s Ultra was so massive this year means it could be the sign of a new musical awakening long-awaited. After the ‘80s and ‘90s, when dance music tried so hard to gain leverage in an American music market, we are witnessing the ultimate groundswell of something that may eclipse our previous standards, expanding out of its niche scene like how rap did over the last twenty years. You can find EDM's influence everywhere in contemporary music, and you don't have to look very hard. For example, having ruled the airwaves since the early 2000s, pop rappers like Pitbull and Flo Rida are now using the EDM craze to get another single out into the ether.

I’ve often thought about what would happen if I were to review a new album from this milieu.

“Jim, are you going to review the new Skrillex album?”

Errr. I dunno. Probably not.

Don’t get me wrong. I don’t hate this at all. I actually want to go to go to a rave really badly (“Don’t tell my Mom I’m rollin’ right now!”). Even so, I think a lot of the appeal of the music is actually losing yourself while feeling the same energy among a large group of people.

But no, I wouldn't expect a review of a new dubstep album on my blog in the near future if I were you. I'm doing this out of fairness. It's not like I haven't tried. I gave an honest attempt to review the new Grimes album, and I couldn’t make heads or tales of it — I don’t know what makes a EDM album “good” or “bad.” In fact, unless some sites have hired someone to decipher these kinds of records, I wouldn’t trust their judgment. Believe me, the real ravers aren't getting any reviews from Pitchfork or Spin. In fact, I only know a few homies who could answer such a question, and that is because they go to a rave every week.

If EDM has taught me anything, it's that I'm personally at the cusp of "cool dad" territory. You know, the dad that pretends he knows what's going on to bond with his kid's friends. He pretty much says a few facts to make sure no one calls him on his B.S. and then concentrates on getting everyone to basketball practice in his Dodge Caravan. I don't think I'm quite there yet, but I'm pretty close to pulling a Danny Glover in that I might be getting too old for this sh!t. If anyone wants to school me on the in's and out's of good dance music, please let me know. If things keep up, you're going to have to write this stupid blog by default.

Port of Morrow - The Shins

Buy It Now

If you're like me, your first experience with ever hearing anything by The Shins was probably in the soundtrack of Garden State. It was also probably the first time you encountered hipsters who casually berated you for having a movie with Queen Amidala and the guy from Scrubs influence your musical taste.

Whether it was this typical occurrence or another one totally unrelated, it is certain you've had a hipster sarcastically teach you the basic tenant of musical discovery: be Christopher Columbus. That is to say the one who wins in musical conquest is the first to claim a new discovery for Hipsterland and have the best argument about how he or she found it first so future generations will remember throughout history (they won't). While I admire hipsters for a.) their blog-reading comprehension skills b.) their love of bullsh!t and c.) their caustic comments that, like an old kung-fu master, make me want to dig deeper inside myself and the Pitchfork website in order to find the chi to defeat them, if they just stopped trying so hard, they would these revered musical professors ... or music Mensa members or something. But they won't. Their hearts are really in the wrong place: somewhere in the body you've probably never heard of. If a tree falls in the woods, a hipster will buy the soundtrack and be the first one to remind you he has it on vinyl.

Forgive me for belaboring, but the fact that I like a Shins album post Wincing the Night Away probably makes me look like the ultimate dolt to some in the aforementioned subculture. First, people know who The Shins are by now. How can they have indie cred if even I know who they are? Second, this band can't be called The Shins in good conscience. We all know better than to call whatever Trent Reznor's doing these days Nine Inch Nails — there's only one nail left. Same goes for frontman James Mercer calling whatever outfit of indie guns-for-hire he's assembled the name of his old group. Whoever was left from the original Albuquerque pioneers was lost to cholera or drowned while fording of the Colorado on the trail to Portland, Ore. Even Mercer, who experimented with DJ Danger Mouse in the group Broken Bells, seemed lost. Now, Mercer is now married and the father of two. Now, after five years, and to everyone's surprise, a new Shins album, Port of Morrow, has surfaced; once more, it's great.

That's not to say Port of Morrow is the best in the catalog — not by a long shot. Even so, Mercer proves once again he is one of indie's most competent songwriters. Accompanying melodies bathed in folk, psychedelic and alt country, Mercer at times seems to channel Win Butler, Brandon Flowers, Bono and even Mark Foster when he's not possessed by his own yearning and sincere tone that made The Shins famous.

Most of the songs on this new album deal with his new family life and his own eclectic childhood in New Mexico. One needs to only start with "Simple Song," an indie-guitar masterpiece coupled with a lyrics on par with Elton John's "Your Song" as an ode to songwriting in itself. And from a pop dimension, Mercer shows his vocal versatility on "September" by moving seamlessly from early '90s U2 into introspective high notes common on softer Killers tracks.

Much of the credit also belongs to producer Greg Kurstin of Kelly Clarkson and Britney Spears fame. Under Kurstin's watchful eye, Mercer never stays too still yet always keeps his composure. For example, after the alt country sadness of "For a Fool," Mercer launches into the reggae-pop off-beats of "Fall of '82." To go from one extreme to the other manifests Kurstin's keen sense of mixing by making each song fit in its right place, even when all common sense says these kinds of arrangements shouldn't work.

So, once counted as down and out, The Shins show through Port of Morrow that the group is going to be around for a long time, even if the tenuous indie "cred" from those "who heard them first" falters.

For Your Consideration: Just buy it now.

For Next Time: Maybe the new one from that a-hole Jack White.

P.S.: Some of you who read this say I rely too much on indie rock. The sites I read are the ones that cover this stuff. I also understand the need to step out of my comfort zone. This is another plea for your feedback, whether you give it to me in person or getting to me somehow online. The only criteria are:

1. The album needed to be released in the past month
2. You need to let me know about it.
3. Don't give me the business if I don't like it. If I think it's bad, it's bad and there can be no difference in opinion. j/k ... but not really. My word takes precedence among all others.

Otherwise I'm going to keep doing my thing.

This Week in Music 3/11-3/17: Who Are One Direction and Where Did They Come from?

Could this be a new British Invasion? It certainly has the makings of such an event as UK boy band One Direction continues to become the only trending topic for teen and tween girls. 1D's meteoric rise certainly should be getting attention considering the band's performance at "The Today Show" had an estimated 10,000 people screaming for this Fab Five. And it was on a Monday morning.

Looking at this performance on TV, one couldn't even grasp how big the crowd was until the camera panned back. The mob went back behind the stage and across the street from NBC Studios. The cramped space in the plaza itself made it even more flabbergasting. If fans wanted a good spot, they needed to start camping in line that Friday. Look at the videos here:





The band's American debut for its album, Up All Night, was last Tuesday, and it is speculated it will hit No.1 on the Billboard Top 200, which is in the process of being compiled right now. But how did a band like this create the same pandemonium seemingly out of thin air as the legendary Beatles did in their 1964 "Ed Sullivan Show" appearance?

One Direction came together on 2010s British version of "The X Factor." Singers Niall Horan, Louis Tomlinson, Zayn Malik, Liam Payne and Harry Styles were all competing in as soloists. However, music guru Simon Cowell was convinced the guys would have a better shot making it as a group. Although they came in third, they have been wreaking havoc across the pond ever since.

But the question is how did this group become so popular without even stepping foot in the US? Social media, of course. Sites like Twitter and YouTube helped spread the word about the band, but coupling it with Tumblr seems to have really made this group famous with its intuitive application of sharing visual media.

So now what? Well, a show for Nickelodeon is already in the works, as well as a 40-arena tour next spring and a musical-guest spot on Saturday Night Live that will happen much sooner than that, April 7. But like other aspects of this new sensation, much remains a mystery. However, I would suggest buying stock in earplugs — everyone is going to need something to muffle the screams.

Wrecking Ball - Bruce Springsteen

Noteworthy

The Boss returns for the first time since the passing of saxophone colossus Clarence Clemons, and he turns his attention to the rather conflicted stance concerning where the country is headed.

Springsteen's newest album is a tale of two halves: one of indignation and one of cautious anticipation. As quickly he yells, "If I had me a gun / I'd find the bastards and shoot 'em on site," he then turns to sing, "Let your mind rest easy, sleep well my friends / It's only our bodies that betray us in the end." Much like in the Biblical sense, Springsteen embodies both the mentality of the Zealot and the Essene — the angry revolutionary and the stolid transcendentalist — at different times as the listener plays this effort through.

Springsteen's complexity in songwriting and his understanding of where songs fit allows him to keep reverential nicknames like "America's Shakespeare" even at the ripe old age of 65. However, despite its dynamics, this album will not rank among Bruce's masterpieces like Born to Run, Darkness on the Edge of Town or Nebraska. Musically, there is too much of a sense of longing and distraction. While fans cannot continue to carry the grief of losing the Big Man, it is noticeable that Springsteen's heartland rock swerves too close to country, with too many fiddles like those on "Easy Money" and not enough of longtime keyboardist Roy Bittan's comforting piano that has become synonymous with the E-Street sound.

This is not a knock against country music; however, when it comes from Springsteen, something seems amiss. Although he's shown to be a great folk musician, there was always something grounding him to his own style when he moved into that genre. While Clemons's absence forces Springsteen to automatically lose the saxophone synonymous to urban Jersey, this move to country is a misstep.

There is still a lot of enjoy on Wrecking Ball. The title track is a vintage Springsteen ode to the Old Meadowland Stadium that arouses nostalgia to the artist of yesteryear and to beloved memories of places long gone. "We Take Care of Our Own," the single, starts the diatribe in the Boss's most ironic song since "Born in the USA" echoing the sentiments of the boondocks' blue-collars and the ghosts of Katrina with the only reply coming in the form of a deliciously sarcastic refrain. "Land of Hope and Dreams" is also a track of note. While it appears at first rather unremarkable musically by forcibly combining the grittiness of folk with the fire of gospel, the fact that it was recorded in 1999 allows us one last solo from Big Clarence, the presence that gave the E-Street Band's Americana the distinct flair only a jazz musician can provide.

While one can easily pinpoint the bleak conflict and careful salvation common in Springsteen's emotional lyrics, what holds this album back are the high-flown experiments throughout the melodies. Down-home protest songs like "Shackled and Drawn" and almost-Irish bar shanties like "American Land" make us wonder where the the one born in Stratford-upon-Asbury wandered off to. As Springsteen wants to give voice to the oppressed, it would appear he lets them all speak at once: the Southerner in the shotgun shack, the entitled who have lost their way, the new arrivals at Ellis Island, those left behind in a New Orleans flood. These voices, however, are not the same. Allowing them to sing out at the same time leaves the listener little time to process their fears and hopes as time goes on.

For Your Consideration: "We Take Care of Our Own," "Wrecking Ball," "Land of Hope and Dreams."

For Next Time: Nothing on the horizon.

This Week in Music 3/4-3/10: Rush Limbaugh Fallout and Why It Concerns Music

Preface: I know it seems like in every other article I start things off about trying to fix the posting schedule. I've been experimenting by trial and error to find the best times to write entries at a punctual and consistent pace. After all, it's better to have a regular post so I don't have to go on my horrible twitter account and post it multiple times (follow me on @JWarkulwiz !!!). So, (tentatively) I will promise to to have a "This Week in Music" every Sunday and a review every Tuesday. This will give me enough time to pick a topic, perform research and write the thing. With that ...



Rush Limbaugh! Yay!

We all know what this sensationalist shock-jock for America's Right said on Feb. 29. After Georgetown law student Sandra Fluke testified before an unofficial Congressional hearing regarding health coverage for contraceptives, Limbaugh called Fluke a "slut" and said if Americans were to pay for a woman's birth control, she must allow herself to be taped during sex and post it online.

Touche, my god sir. What a most wonderfully droll quip. Seriously, my only wonderment rests in how this guy is still worth any of my attention. This is heinous in that it is attack on an innocent private citizen as well as a showing of a complete lack of understanding the issue. But this is nothing new. Rushy makes no secret in attacking women, especially those Democrats find reverential, like first lady Michelle Obama, Congresswoman Gabrielle Giffords and Secretary of State Hillary Clinton. Click here to find some of the more profound quotes. Which one is your favorite?

Anyway, we can talk about the politics of this issue until we're blue in the face, and I don;t want to come off as too liberal. That's not what this blog is about. What is significant is this event also could resonate in the musical sphere. Be prepared, there's no well-crafted jokes about Lana Del Rey or snobby Yale students or anything like that. This is more of a hypothetical topic if anything.


Much like the corporate sponsors that are now pulling out of the show, Rage Against the Machine and has joined a group of musicians that includes Peter Gabriel, the Fabulous Thunderbirds and the band Rush that is ordering Limbaugh to cease the use of their songs on his radio program.

Rolling Stone has been following the issue closely. Writer James Sullivan asked music-licensing attorney Larry Iser if these artists had any rights to litigate. Iser said no. The article goes on to say:

[R]adio networks are covered under blanket agreements for "public performance" of all songs in the publishing catalogs of ASCAP, BMI and, in the band Rush's case, SESAC, the Society of European Stage Authors & Composers. The fact that Limbaugh's show has a political agenda does not interfere with his right to play music, so long as it's paid for, says Iser.

Read more: http://www.rollingstone.com/music/news/can-rush-peter-gabriel-legally-order-limbaugh-to-cease-using-their-songs-20120308#ixzz1orzqHPWc

While there is nothing legally stopping Limbaugh from playing the songs, the artists can be vocal that they are not in approval of the situation. My only concern is what happens from here. What would happen if these artists sought legal action and won? Would expanding control for artists mean less freedom for music listeners?

As much as I hate to say it, Limbaugh has the privilege to play any song he wants to for any reason because his stations have paid for the usage rights. If artists are allowed to block usage, regardless if the listener has the licensing, then where does that leave us lowly fans? And where would it lead? We already cannot post certain musical content in YouTube videos — if we do, it is taken down. I admit that my grasp of copyright law is tenuous at best, but I feel as though confrontations like this should stay in the press, and I hope they don't end up in the courts for all our sakes.

There you go. Never thought I would defend an ignorant fear-mongerer Rush Limbaugh. There's a first time for everything.

WZRD - WZRD

Borderline Bad

Kid Cudi had an idea to make a rock album ... could have fooled me. In his new outfit with producer Dot da Genius, WZRD was inspired by Kudi's love of Electric Light Orchestra, Jimi Hendrix and the Pixies. In fact, the group's name is taken from the early Black Sabbath song "The Wizard" ... not to be confused with the drinking game involving who has the biggest staff made out of beer cans and duct tape. Though Cudi's extensive musical knowledge outside his own genre is nothing short of impressive and reverential, there is little to show for it here other than distorted rhythm guitar. In fact, one could argue that the Man in the Moon is better off returning to the droll, raspy rhymes that made him a notable rapper — or at he should have peppered some rap into the mix.

Whatever potential WZRD has, it is squandered by Cudi's limited vocal range. While this works for the rapper in his other outlets, it is a unpleasant detriment in this work. When the album launches into "High Off Life," WZRD could be just as easily be a high-school reggae band that got lost in James Hetfield's mansion, playing with the amplifiers on full blast along the way. The lack of instrumental skill is also a problem. Cudi, who started playing guitar in 2010, noticeably struggles with his fret proficiency. As is the case on songs like "Brake" and "Dr. Pill, " he uses his knowledge of the studio to shroud his novicehood and create effects that let him nearly pull off a professional-caliber song progression (for those playing at home: the operative word is nearly).

The lukewarm spots on the album come in a block of three. First is what Cudi is billing as the album's breakout track, "Teleport 2 Me, Jamie," which almost mimics the score from Blade Runner with a pop beat. Although Cudi's singing in the chorus does its best to divert, the creative vision alone pardons the artist from his cacophonous wrong-doings.

Next, there is a cover version of Nirvana's "Where Did You Sleep Last Night," an actual nod to Nirvana, who used this title instead of the song's traditional label: "In the Pines." Cudi is as on key as he is going to get, and choosing this Nirvana song demonstrates he is not kidding when he says he's a fan and not a total n00b move by going for the easy move and playing "About a Girl."

Finally, the acoustic "Efflicitim" shows a more clear-cut Cudi who is more in step with his previous albums. For some reason, the fast-paced strumming seems to bring out the soul within, although it distances WZRD from its original goal in creating a true rock presence. If the song is anything, it is a lost track from The End of Day remixed with a C. F. Martin acoustic.

Even so, WZRD was put forth as an experiment in engineering. To paraphrase Edison, this is not a failure in making a rock album — it's only discovering one way it doesn't work. Although I approve of Kid Cudi and Dot da Genius's collective gumption in taking on a project that everyone advised against, it is successes that are least expected that reap the largest rewards. Unfortunately, most of the work does not possess the qualities of a good listen. Hopefully Kid Cudi will not take this effort to heart, concede it as a footnote to his career and start again with this new knowledge and a little bit of practice under his belt.

For Your Consideration: "Teleport 2 Me, Jamie," "Where Did You Sleep Last Night," "Efflictim."

For Next Time: Trying to find a copy of the new Springsteen album Wrecking Ball. Even though it has been a couple weeks since release, I still would like to review it. I will also keep an eye out for any rap albums on the horizon.

This Week in Music: T. Swift Proves Once Again She's a Boss

If you know me, you would know that the marquee interview in my short journalistic career (whether it continues or otherwise) is when I talked with then-rising country sensation Taylor Swift in August 2009.

It was my first major interview. I had to organize my questions on the run. The story was on deadline almost as soon as I got back to Penn State for my junior year. I sent an e-mail a day to her publicists. I was tweaking. However, all my work paid off. I made it through to a conference call with five or six other journalists. Everyone would have adequate time to ask a few questions.

My name was called about second to last, and, of course, the publicist didn't pronounce my name correctly. I allow the phonetic butchering of my family name go by on a daily basis, but all I could think was, Common! I want to be seen like a professional here! Not that T. Swift knew my name anyway. But the damage was done: I was flustered. Famous person!

I managed to stammer and stutter my way through my questions. They were about returning to perform in her home state of Pennsylvania for the first time since her new album skyrocketed up the charts and about why she thinks she appeals to a wide age-group. She answered every question thoroughly even though she might have needed a translator to cut through my nervous Esperanto. I'm not embarrassed to say I was starstruck.

Before I could wipe my sweat off of the cordless phone (didn't want to risk my cellphone cutting out), some jackass from the Yale Daily News jumped in for his turn. You could tell he was in no mood to be there. Instead of yachting or perfecting his resume for Merrill Lynch, he was talking to Taylor, who in his mind yet another doltish girl with blonde hair too oafish to get into college and was lucky enough to become famous. His odoriferous smug seemed to waft through the receiver — everyone could tell he was about to goad T. Swift into a hostile interview for kicks.

"Will you ever do a video where you don't kiss in the rain?" was one question I remember that I think captured this a-hole's general tone ... that and a little scoff at the end.

Instead of doing what I would have done by telling this Ivy League d-bag to f&ck off and go back to glee club practice, Taylor had the poise and professionalism to answer every question with a quick laugh and a sincere answer. There was no defense! BOOM! He resigned with a quick and submissive thank you — whether or not he hung up the phone afterward is something I couldn't tell.

To this day, I am not only amazed with Taylor Swift's kindness toward me, but also with her aplomb and confidence toward bullies. Considering the themes of her songs deal with that subject frequently, she has some experience. After that altercation, this attitude must be genuine. People ask me about her all the time. Is she nice? Count on it. A terrific human being ... scary nice.

That's why I was so excited, but not too surprised, to hear this story:


This 18-year-old kid from Sommerdale, N.J., named Kevin McGuire was diagnosed with leukemia — the second time he's had to combat this terrible illness.

It came at a pretty bad time for any teenager because Kev was considering who to ask to his senior prom, which coincidentally takes place on his birthday.

His sister, Victoria, started a campaign to get one of his favorite singers, Taylor Swift, to go as his date. Many people contributed to get the message out — the Philadelphia CBS affiliate, CBS3; Philly sports-radio personality Mike Missanelli; and over 120 thousand Facebook friends. Unfortunately, Taylor would not take Kevin up on the offer.

Instead, she sent him this message:

"Kevin, I'm so sorry bit I won't be able to make it to your prom. But I was wondering, the [American Country Music] awards are coming up. Would you be my date? Love, Taylor."

Obviously, Kevin said yes. He's going to Vegas for the awards, baby!

As a Penn Stater, I come from a community that feels very strongly about young people with this disease. If you're unfamiliar with Penn State's THON, please check it out. I'm really happy for Kevin and wish him nothing but the best as he beats this back.

Through this his action of kindness, Taylor Swift has affirmed all the good things that I've said about her. At this point, I might have to buy a CD just to show my support, even though I'm not a big country fan.

So congratulations, Kevin. You're going to Vegas with the classiest date in the place on April 1. And if that Tim Tebow character decides to join you as the third wheel, tell him to take a walk around the block, will ya?