The "Page Six" Scandal

For anyone who saw Sweet Smell of Success, with Tony Curtis as sniveling flack Sidney Falco trying to curry favor with Burt Lancaster's curmudgeonly J. J. Hunsecker, it's no secret that there's a fascinatingly symbiotic relationship between gossip columnists and their sources.

All sorts of "scratch and be scratched" deals go on behind closed doors, and in this day of "fair and balanced" journalism, one realizes there's no such thing as objective reporting, up to and including the great gray lady, The New York Times itself. William Hearst may have coined the phrase "yellow journalism," but there's a long and less-than-noble tradition of press barons using their vehicles to promote their own self-interest.

The N.Y. Post's Jared Paul Stern did nothing wrong telling Ron Burkle he could help him with his coverage at "Page Six," and while he appeared rather unseemly asking for $100k upfront and $10k a month for a year to do it, it seems to me a clear case of a sting. Certainly, if Burkle is offering the money, you wouldn't expect a freelance gossip journalist to turn it down, would you?

Especially when publicists-turned-high-priced "media consultants" command about the same monthly stipend to do something very similar. It's no wonder that the case hasn't raised any eyebrows out here in L.A., where this sort of quid pro quo is considered the price of doing business.

The Streets, The Hardest Way to Make An Easy Living (Vice/Atlantic)

This long-awaited third album from the Cockney version of Eminem starts off with Mike Skinner on the verge of a nervous breakdown, chanting, "I'm about to do something stupid," but the jam-packed confessional that follows offers more insight, advice, observations, and confessions in its 37 minutes than a week's worth of Dr. Phil or Oprah.

Skinner tackles a variety of issues prompted by his incipient pop stardom, including a nasty gambling habit ("Pranging Out"), relationships in the post-feminist world ("War of the Sexes"), the no-win finances of the music business (the title track), his fixation with materialism ("Memento Mori"), the British tabloids ("When You Wasn't Famous"), the death of his father ("Never Went to Church"), the loneliness of the road ("Hotel Expressionism"), the difference between England and America ("Two Nations"), and being alienated from your own fans ("Fake Street Hats").

It's all accompanied by a characteristic sing-song storytelling, equal parts Johnny Rotten and My Fair Lady's Stanley Holloway ("With a Little Bit of Luck"), containing elements of soulful divas ("Pranging"), nursery rhymes ("Hardest Way..."), gospel-soul choirs ("Never Went to Church"), and even a Latin American samba ("Famous"). And while The Streets' parochial viewpoint might remain too narrow for the kind of American breakthrough Skinner wishes for in lamenting, "Two nations divided by a common language/And 200 years of new songs and dances," when he sings "If you don't like what's going down/You need to change something' round" in "Fake Street Hats," you realize, by describing a very particular state of music biz anomie, he also manages to touch on the universal.