Janet’s Boobie Pageant. 4.12.04

Hopefully, this means that Janet Jackson’s being synonymous with “wardrobe malfunction” or “exposed titty” or “whoo-hah! You think the kids saw that?” is finally over. I flipped on the television—I was home on Saturday night stretching out my Reyes-like hamstrings—and there Ms. Jackson (‘cause I’m nasty) was, doing a solid Condoleeza Rice impression on Saturday Night Live, addressing it, putting it to rest.

I suppose Chris Kattan and Tracy Morgan and Simon Cowell were all there to give her a little respite, since she was also the musical guest. She played two songs/ dance routines. Not sure if she was singing through them, but they were not very good, more of a progression into the wispy voiced bouncy lounge-europop thing she dropped a little of on the Velvet Rope.

Yes, I am a fan.

But this music was more Britney than Janet, more Aaliyah than Motown. More disappointing than thrilling. I wonder if one day there will be great debates—which music was limper, more technology demolished: pop of the 80’s (using Falco’s Rock Me Amadeus, for example) or pop of the Naughty Oughts/ the Dub Zero’s/ the Decade of Oh’s.

If you have a better nickname for the decade, please. Be my guest. Comments are below.