Bucket Full of Smoke

Buckethead is the exact antipode to Britney Spears. The only thing the two have in common is that they are both habitually called artists; at least an IPod categorizes them both as such. That’s where it starts and that’s where it ends.

While the former’s omnipresence in the tabloids tends to make her more vivid than the average second-degree relative, the latter is permanently absent - Unless it comes to what an artist is supposed to be doing, namely creating art.

Concealed by a hockey mask and crowned by a KFC bucket (hence the name), Buckethead prolifically delivers flawless guitar creations; always fresh and on the spot, innovative and yet ever recognizable - in sound and not as a personality. This way, the art is put in the spot light, not the person behind it.

I felt obliged to add this to the recent post “Hollywood created a superstar – And pain was the price your kids paid”. It is ludicrous to equate Britney Spears with any sort of creative work, leave alone art. It is business. She rose to fame because of her looks and image, marginally assisted by easily digested tunes. Thus, an element from the Sorcerer’s Apprentice emerges in the Spears saga:

“Those spirits that I called, I now cannot control.”