They should be blown up, apparently.
Welcome to the un-fun house.
Descending into a red-lit basement apartment no doubt redolent of sensual rubbing oils.
Do you prefer music videos that feature men who drop trou and jump off ladders onto prone women?
It gives us a funny, climbing-the-rope-in-gym-class feeling.
We're really feeling “I’ll Go Crazy If I Don’t Go Crazy Tonight.”
We're actually rather shocked at the level of vitriol directed at the singer.
The black-molasses riffing and anguished singing? The musical equivalent of a familiar old drug high.
A great, gimmicky rap song about how gimmicky rap songs have become.
The rapper plays the coach of a basketball team comprised of remarkably well-endowed women.
The evidence is on video.
Ladies, are you feeling this little homey?
They're breaking out the "Summertime Clothes."
And cars were boats, and Europe owed us a fat one for dubya dubya two.
"Dear Vulture, I never thought this would happen to me … "
The song's sunny synths are negated by this video's incredibly dark vision.
What’s a fan of Linkin Park and Hollywood Undead to make of “Booty Call”?
F-bombs have been dropped.
You can’t help but wonder if the pairing is utterly random or not.
Two new songs feature a nineties-style alien, Druish princesses, and guilty cocker spaniels.
“Last One to Die”: pleasure-centered, endlessly listenable.
Can’t everyone just go back to being gangstas with money?
White paint poured over video vixens, to be exact.
Listening to these marginal rappers collaborating with these marginal dance groups, we’ve found our head moving in a slow, rhythmic back-and-forth motion.
Leslie plays a mummy.