Fuck you, nu-metal. Fuck you, "modern rock." We're taking it back to when A&R agents got paid to watch David Yow knot up his weiner and I didn't know what a titty felt like.

Usher: “My Way”

Never mind the unnecessary scream fight that almost ruins the middle of the song, the more important question here is What the hell is going on? In what bizarre universe does Usher have a dance gang that battles Tyrese’s dance gang for the affections of a woman in a junkyard while Jermaine Dupri perpetually interrupts with laughs and “yo yo yo yo” in the background. Spumoni ice cream themed outfits on one side, Arctic G.I. Joe on the other, let’s dance this out, friend, You suckas just got served. I love dance fights, especially when casual dating arrangements are at stake, but this is next level — there’s no way this particular battle happens on planet Earth, and that’s what makes it great. Where can I get a spray painted duster like that? (eBay. Someone check for me) Or even better, once I get that duster, who’s going to teach me how to moonwalk on my knees? The Warriors-cum-West Side Story-cum-Clockwork Orange universe in which women decide between potential mates based on their screaming, singing, running, and dancing abilities (as well as their ability to multitask) is one in which I want to live. 

Make it happen, Richard Branson.

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