F'NMTV: WTF?!
By: Dorotea

Viewers complained about it. Justin Timberlake complained about it. Hell, even Lauren Conrad complained about it. For ages now, people have been consistently whining about the lack of videos on MTV. The "Music Network" has hit an all-time low in video-related programming. This time ten years ago, Jesse Camp was geeking out over Rob Zombie and Ozzy Osbourne during his hosted block of Hard Rock and Metal videos, TRL was actually Live, and non-music programming only popped up during the PM hours. Even then, viewers complained that the station was turning its back on the music industry that made it into a mega-power, but if they knew the kind of horrors that MTV would stoop to in the post-911 Gen Y world, they would have held their tongues and tried to enjoy Laura Lifshitz being spun on a giant wheel during Say What? Karaoke.

In 2008, the average MTV playlist consists of re-runs of shows that no one over the age of sixteen really cares about, four out of five work days bring you pre-recorded "Total Request Live", in which viewer votes are now weighed in with download sales and other statistics. Half-naked skanks like Tila Tequila try to find "love" and nerdy kids turn to Made to have a chance in hell of being popular (and at least while the cameras are still rolling, they achieve that goal). Nowhere in this mix of what the network swears is a reflection of Youth Culture is the music video...until now.

As a Fall Out Boy fan, I was intrigued when Pete Wentz placed a "What do you hate about MTV?" poll on his Meelikey blog (which recently lost its content when the building containing the server caught fire). To no one's surprise, almost everyone unanimously screamed "PLAY MORE FUCKING VIDEOS!". A little bird tells me that Pete had been begging MTV for a show of his own before this poll, so by having his dedicated followers "agree" with him about MTV's pitiful new music resume, his wish could finally be granted. Lo and behold, after returning from his Honeymoon with Ashlee Simpson, he announced that he would be the savior to the music-hungry and apparently YouTube-weary masses - a new show was going to "bring music videos back". Its title? F'NMTV.

I have to admit that I was pretty excited about this. I've followed Pete long enough to know that when he sets his mind to doing something, he'll stop at nothing to get it done. Many dumped money to Invisible Children; Pete actually went to Uganda. Many were broken-hearted at the jeopardy of several local Chicago clubs that showcased Punk and Hardcore; Pete worked his ass off to have them saved. All in all, he has a good track record of keeping his word - so what if he never made it to Antarctica? He helped to save the lives of abducted children in a country that most people haven't even heard of.

Obviously, MTV's programming is a more trivial topic, but with Pete getting involved, it seemed like this "F'NMTV" thing would be worth my time. I remember being hyper with anticipation for Friday night all week, so when the night finally rolled around, I was nearly bursting out of my clothes. Since I like a good debate, I was hoping that my mother would watch it with me. Instead, she swiped my latest issue of Rolling Stone and retreated to her bedroom, almost as if to say "I don't give a flying crap".

I hate saying this, but she really didn't miss much. I was expecting music videos out the ass, but instead I get flashing lights and squealy teengage and twenty-something girls crowded in tight spaces. MTV News reporter Tim Kasch looked amazingly bland as he sat next to a dude whose name escapes me as well as Gym Class Heroes vocalist Travis McCoy. His newly shorn hair, giant coke-bottle glasses and beat-up baseball cap made him look like a pimped-out Urkel, and he played the part to the fullest. None of them looked particularly enthusiastic, but wherever Pete goes, at least some of his posse has to follow (hello, why was Panic at the Disco the live act?!).

After yammering about Pete, they finally did the viewers a favor and introduced the Man of the Hour. He was milking his role as a modern music Messiah to a full extent, touching hands with audience members as he came into the platform. He had his signature Hardcore-Veteran-Meets-Hollywood-Metrosexual style in full force; the kind of "bad boy" scene girls comfortably place posters of on their bedroom walls between their Audrey Kitching shrines and Ashlee Simpson effigies. Despite his fashion flair, his eyes were glassy and dead. His outward pep rally tone couldn't mask his "I got two hours of sleep last night and skipped dinner" aura. Then again, scene girls love that image, so he was likely just playing it up for the cameras.

Now for the actual "daredevil" acts included in the circus. Two-second clips of some truly entertaining videos scrolled on a screen, with Pete's opinions serving as an un-wanted narration ("It's so minimalist" he said about The Replacements). Then came the unnecessary Michael Jackson dick-riding, which induced my first eye-roll of the evening. I have to be fair to Pete, because he was trying to make the clueless crowd care about acts like Blur, The Tom-Toms and The Who, but it was like trying to feed a salad to a Siberian Tiger - you know that they're not going to accept it.

As for the video premiers, bubblegum rapper Flo Rida was up first (you know, that dude who does the extremely annoying earworm "Low"?). The personal story section was touching, especially when Flo Rida spoke of his sister Julia, who died not long ago. The video itself wasn't memorable. It didn't even leave enough of an impression on me to write anything about it.

Then came the oversexed aging felines The Pussycat Dolls, featuring the biggest waste of talent in music today, Nicole Scherzinger. No one wanted her as a solo artist, so her tail went between her shapely, bronzed legs and she went back to PCD and to doing the slutty club anthems that got her noticed. While their latest single "When I Grow Up" isn't as shitty as the songs from their last album, it's still shit. When the video premiered, I thought to myself, "This is a good time to go to the bathroom". Isn't it sad that Scherzinger's best work occurred when she played second fiddle to the now meth-addicted Travis Meeks in Days of the New?

By far, the highlight of the show for me was the live performance of one of my favorite bands, Panic at the Disco. Some say they're over-hyped, but I think that they deserve every bit of praise they get. The band performed "That Green Gentleman", and they sound better live now than they ever have in the past. Brendon's voice is scratchy, smoky, soulful and dripping with new confidence. Ryan's guitar-playing was tight, despite the fact that he seemed to either be tired or stoned out of his mind (or both). While it sounds trivial, the most fun thing about their performance to me was the body language between Ryan and Brendon. While not as raunchy as it used to be, just seeing them steal glances at each other and moving dangerously close to sing the last line of the song together is a slasher's dream come true. "Ryden" as they're nicknamed are much like the Lindsay and Samantha of the Decaydance/FBR family - everyone knows they're doing it, but no one feels motivated enough to pester them out of the closet.

Immediately after the paramount performance, the show quickly moved back into its gimmicky, ADD-riddled format by "breaking" the Indie-kissed Brit dance darlings, the Ting Tings. I wanted to put a gun to my head as I listened to the grating fairy-tale rendition of the band's rise to fame. The poor announcer who had to recite that golden turd had better been paid well for taking it on. The video for The IPod Song (AKA "Shut Up At Let Me Go") was a tired throwback to concepts that J.U.S.T.I.C.E. and The White Stripes already tested (which the panel pointed out). The song is almost beat-for-beat and chord-for-chord a clone of the chorus for Finger Eleven's "Paralyzer" (Or Franz Ferdinand’s “Take Me Out”, except with a bratty Cockney-accented blond chick pitching a fit about a spoiled relationship. Been there, done that. Next.

As I sat in my living room, partially distracting myself with my National Geographic World Atlas, I remember thinking to myself "Well, can it get any worse?". Oh yeah, it got worse. It was nothing short of heartbreak watching one of my favorite rappers, Snoop Dogg, stoop so low to gain relevance. After a dud of a comedy reel where Pete and Ashlee ask Snoop for parenting advice, he appears on stage in a cowboy hat. "I want to pay homage to Johnny Cash. This is a little Western". He says. If Snoop had bothered to actually use Wiki or Google before he brought his Chronic-fueled ass on stage, he'd know that Johnny Cash was an Arkansas boy who did Country, not Western, but hey, the clueless fan girls loved it.

The whole ploy was to build up for his redundant country dabbling. I had heard of his collaboration with Willie Nelson for a while, but something in my head couldn't quite register it. Sure, Jessica Simpson and Jewel hopped on the "ZOMG LET'S DO COUNTRY" bandwagon, but Snoop is not a jiggly blond. When the video dropped, I hid my face and grimaced in embarrassment. I can't believe that Everlast - a truly talented musician in his own right - would actually produce that flaming pile of horse shit. Shot in Amsterdam (gee, I wonder why?), the video is nothing but meandering and "pay attention to us" angle shots. "This is dedicated to Johnny Cash" Snoop yells. This just in: Johnny Cash's ghost is now your official poltergeist. Hope you're happy.

As the fiasco drew to a close, Pete promises a Vampire Weekend premier and a Lil' Wayne performance for next week's show. It sounds like an upgrade, but I'm still not holding my breath. Just watching Snoop perform with Panic on "Gin and Juice" induced a slight headache. Two good artists caving to MTV's attempt to seem in touch is depressing, no matter how much they tried to pretend like they were having fun. I was left feeling like a balloon had just popped. As glossy and well-edited as the entire hour presented itself, it still came off as a giant train wreck. Perhaps the show just needs some time to come into its own. After all, TRL was a mess on its first episode, and it rose to greatness during its Carson Daly years. Then again, as mentioned, TRL used to be live. They had an excuse for looking sloppy and uncomfortable in places.

I feel like a horribly gullible person for even believing the hype in the first place. I mean, it's fucking MTV!!! What was I really expecting? I suppose that part of me was holding onto that hope that it would somewhat resemble what I saw growing up as a kid - daytime filled with music and off-beat VJ's being colorful, and nighttime filled with a less-STD-infested Real World and truly entertaining animated shows like Daria and Celebrity Deathmatch. As I watched two weeks’ worth of promos filled with Pete taunting Hitler's spawns - excuse me, Heidi and Spencer - the sense of humor was a slight throwback to the late '90s MTV spirit. Just like Stalinist-brand Communism, if you place enough signs with enough encouraging phrases for the public to view, eventually you'll start believing what's written on them. Kind of a feeble comparison, since the honchos at MTV don't have nearly enough marbles to be that brilliant with propaganda. If they were, they'd have Karl Rove's old job.

As for Pete Wentz's role in this whole dismal act, I have to commend him a little. He tried his damndest to make lemonade out of this lemon. I'm not writing this to try and tear him to pieces - I admire him in many ways, but I'm not an ass-kisser who gives the thumbs up on everything he does. I have room for constructive criticism, and I think this is one of his missteps. He went in with good intentions, but the network fucked it up, much like the case with Sharon Osbourne's short-lived talk show on Fox a few years back. My mother did manage to walk into the room long enough to stare at Pete and ask this straight-forward question, "Is this the direction he wants to take his career in?". I'm praying to God that it's not. Pete's former struggle to be happy with himself may be gone, but losing that fighting spirit and that activist mindset would be a travesty. While I love Pete for his ability to give the underdog a chance and admire his courage to speak out on touchy political issues, I also despise how willing he is to make himself a brand. He's not Gene Simmons, but he is definitely not Ian MacKaye, either. Then again, Ian did approve of a Minor Threat Hot Sauce, so I suppose this truly is the age of selling out.

Later that night, while I was writing my first draft of this article, I tuned into The Soup to see something truly surprising. Joel McHale's normally snappy one-liners and sarcastic passing remarks were replaced with a bold, straight-up, and actually angry rant towards someone who provoked him. In the four years he's been on that show, I've never seen him lose his cool until that episode. The person who brought this moment about? Audrina Patridge, the "OH NOEZ MAI NEKKID PHOTOZ R ON TEH INTERWEBZ" ditz pretending to be Lauren's bestie on The Hills. Audrina is a direct product of MTV's apathetic attitude towards music, and Pete Wentz is the face of their attempt to clean up their reputation, much like Medvedev following Putin. Of course I doubt that Pete would let Audrina shove her unspoiled maiden hands up his ass and use him as a puppet, but the queasy message still sounds out to the normal consumer. Someone completely talentless and dumber than a doornail can have more clout within a youth-based entertainment empire than a talented musician with more business insider information than MTV could shake a stick at. Who can blame Joel for being pissed at the state of pop culture? I know I feel it.

By the way, Ashlee Simpson's new album is actually very good. But don't take my word for what's worth listening to in music, take MTV's. They're the experts.