But seriously, have these people no shame? Do they not type these ridiculous, indefensible, but ultimately simply inappropriate headline questions–questions based on imperfect comparisons at best and on a total horseshit whim at worst–and not feel some sort of guilt or at least a sharp, shooting pain akin to colitis or swallowing a bucket full of thumbtacks as their inner hack strains itself beyond logic and reason? Is Cheech Marin the new Pope John Paul II? Are baked beans the new natiional security policy? Is a horse the new frisbee?
Are Rilo Kiley the new Fleetwood Mac? Because they used to fuck, broke up, but have since stuck it out as a songwriting pair? Because they’re white people making rock music in America? Because they’re humans born in the 20th-century with no visible deformities? Jenny Lewis isn’t fit to carry the train of one of Stevie’s ’80s nightmare frocks and Lindsay Buckingham wouldn’t have killed Blake Lewis and used his corpse’s sternum as a pale, scrawny coffee table to do lines off of. And trust me, once you hear the compressed turd that is the “radio-ready” new Rilo Kiley album, the comparison’s going to seem even more ridiculous. And I like Rilo Kiley.
[EDIT: I just noticed the little asterix next to the headline, which means there's probably some cutesy little "just kidding!" get-out-of-jail clause somewhere within the magazine. But I'm sticking with my semi-exhausted ire, dammit.]
[EDIT 2: This goof dryly notes that I accidentally typed “Lewis” twice when the Rilo Kiley chump’s name is Blake Sennett. I’d make a joke about Rilo Kiley fans bein’ self-righteous/cranky but anyone listening to Robert Pollard solo albums and Bad Religion in 2007 is helpfully taking care of the jokes themselves.]