By Brett, Jason and Tameka

Disclaimer – The authors of this story do not profess to possess any culture, or any taste, for that matter. We are simply writing about the stuff that we liked and hated.

As with everything in life, it’s much easier to blatantly criticize than it is to tastefully compliment. With that in mind, we are not merely going to dump on this year’s overall shady-at-best entertainment, but we are also going to toss around a few well-deserved pats on the back hence, The best and the feeblest of 1997.

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As a whole, the movies of 1997 seemed to be heavy on special effects, and light on plot and character development. But there were exceptions to that generalization.

The conspiracy driven plot of L.A. Confidential was complex and deep, but didn’t leave audiences confused. Newcomers Guy Pearce and Russell Crowe furnished some of the best acting of the year, and Kevin Spacey shines as always.

Eve’s Bayou is a close second with a brilliant script and amazingly honest acting from the entire cast. Third place would have to go to Chasing Amy. With its unpopular stance toward sex in the 90s, it offered a fresh look at inhibitionist attitudes without being overly trendy.

This movie category probably offers the easiest choice in the Feeblest ranking. In Speed 2, Sandra Bullock and Jason Patric prove just how awful a film can get when they spew their mundane script in support of an already-used-up plot, intermingled with cheesy action sequences and horribly failed attempts at humor (How can a boat crash through a pier for 10 minutes? Give me a brake.)

This is an appropriate time to thank the Copper Dragon and SIU Arena, who both brought us quite a mixture of fabulous and desolate bands. While other venues in town all featured a few worthy performances, they offered little worth writing home (or in the newspaper) about.

By far, the best show of the year would have to be the Smashing Pumpkins’ Jan. 21 show at the Arena. In fact it was less of a concert, and more of a visual-auditory experience. While the band played little from its early albums, the variety of amazing, emotion-laden songs it played from Mellon Collie and the Infinite Sadness offered the crowd its money worth. And the tower of speakers and lights, and the numerous video screens completed the Oh my god is this really the Arena atmosphere that transported the crowd from hickville to the rock n’ roll land of milk n’ honey.

At the other end of the rock-tour scale, area music fans were treated to a sickening display of nostalgia when Motley Crue came to town under a blanket of controversy. Earlier in the tour, bassist Nikki Sixx directed racial slurs toward an African-American security guard, but the show was not awful simply because of one member’s ignorance. With vulgar between-song stage antics and obscene video footage, the music (which is bad enough when it’s a high priority) seemed to play second fiddle. The band’s priorities seemed appropriate because the material is too out-of-date to be taken seriously anyway. To top of this cheese cake of misery, Tommy Lee tickled out a dumb piano ode to his son that not only made him look like a fool, but looked bad enough to leave the crowd feeling sorry for him and the tragically unhip band. The show was pure nostalgia at its worst.

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Despite the overuse of old songs and rhyming over played-out beats, the hip-hop and R&B industry has had its share of best and worst of music.

Without a doubt, the artists of Bad Boy Entertainment have released some of the best music of 1997. Following the tragic death of the Big Poppa, Notorious B.I.G., Sean Puffy Combs and nasty mama herself, Lil’ Kim, picked up where he left off.

Gaining some world-wide attention, Lil’ Kim loosely flaunted herself on the Hard Core album cover with her crotch open. Despite the display of nasty, but entertaining rhymes, Lil’ Kim delivered it real over some hard-listening rhythms creatively produced by Puff Daddy, who tends to use 80s songs to his advantage.

In almost the same breath, newcomer Mase made a smooth transition from cameo artist to his own artist. Recently Mase released Harlem World, standing his ground as a player and a baller and making himself known in the rap industry.

Displaying some rap artists such as Mase on his album, Brian McKnight’s Anytime has been a success. On his third album, McKnight wrote all the lyrics, plays all the instruments and sings all the vocals.

In need of vocal lessons and a fashion designer, SWV, barely made Release Some Tension a decent album. Once you get past the horrible album cover of long-legged leopards, one witnesses the drown-out vocals of the group.

Although Janet Jackson has been a tremendous success in the past, she has now reached a downfall in her career with Velvet Rope. She has gone from a young, pleasant woman to an out-of-control freak. What happened? Oh yeah, she claims she has been through extreme pain in her life and this album actually took her all of 31 years to make!

Another out-of-control woman is Mariah Carey. Check her out in her videos in three-inch mini-skirts dancing around with Puff Daddy and the Family. Sorry, Mariah, but this poor attempt to sell copies of Butterfly is not working. She has a beautiful voice but has neglected it by taking backstage to the trend of hip-hop sounds that are really not needed.

But the worst of all, is definitely the How to Be a Player Soundtrack. Wannabe foxy mama, Foxy Brown, makes a cheap appearance on the track Big Bad Mama to add a bit of humor to the CD.

The year did offer quite an array of emerging talents, bands aging gracefully and, as with every year in the 90s, progressively more female artists.

The real surprise in the pop/rock genre of 1997 came with one seemingly straight rock band writing songs about aliens infiltrating the planet and eloping couples in love, and utilizing the most advanced effects in instrumental wizardry to produce the strongest album of the year.

In 1993, the English rock band Radiohead looked to be challenging 4 Non Blondes as the decade’s first one-hit wonder when its debut album Pablo Honey failed to produce any substantial material other than the single Creep. This year’s semi-concept album OK Computer is easily the most creative effort in years and established Radiohead as a major artistic force in rock n’ roll.

U2 continued its journey into synthesized guitar effects and dance beats with its unconventional, and arguably best, release Pop, while pop vigilance was best displayed on Ivy’s poetic release Apartment Life.

Veruca Salt did away with any possible sophomoric slump with a heavy, beefed-up album of hard rock. Eight Arms To Hold You proved the band’s two ethereal frontwomen can rock with the best, and they are only getting better.

Sarah McLachlan’s Surfacing not only defines the adult contemporary genre, but does so in such a sensual, sexual and roundabout way that these 10 songs can turn the most frigid listener into an ingenuous, lustful romantic.

In typical greedy record-producer fashion, the Berman Brother production team pieced together three Supremes wannabes and created Shemoves, a female vocal trio sans the creative talent to think up anything remotely interesting on their debut Breaking All the Rules.

Blues Traveler’s latest release Straight On Till Morning would be a strong album if it were by any lesser band, but these New York natives have proven time and again they can deliver the goods a lot better than in chinsy numbers like Felicia.

The Verve failed to back up any of their flaunting bravado as musical geniuses with the lazy Urban Hymns. Aside from the catchy strings in Bitter Sweet Symphony or the easy chorus of Sonnet, the album falls flat.

Linoleum’s Dissent and Kacy Croley’s Anchorless prove the new crop of female artists popping up all over the music charts are not entirely exemplary, but the releases do show potential, which may mean 1998 could be those artists’ year.

Well, that’s that. Hope you enjoyed 1997 as much as you undoubtedly enjoyed our diatribe. As 1998 approaches be ready for more of the same from the entertainment industry, but keep looking to the stars.