From Biggie and Pac to to the Hatfields and McCoys, drama with our fellow man (henceforth referred to as ‘beef”) has been a constant. Never is this more true than within the world of entertainment. When not busy in the studio or on the stage, musicians (for the purpose of this article) are constantly talking shit, responding to shit talked or being shot at as a result of said shit.

Today we’re going to look at feuds, tussles, tiffs and all around beef from across the music world. Get ready to ride or die, fool.

ROUND 1: FIGHT!

Pissin in the wind…

VS

During this year’s Dude Fest, lead singer of Minneapolis’ Get Rad kick started the beef with strong words for the boys in Lords, who were also playing later in the day.

Apparently, during a Lords show in Covington KY, of which the Get Rad singer Kevin Herwig was present, urine was thrown on the audience. And Herwig received a surprise golden show.

According to Lords Myspace blog:

“Before the Daughters set Alexis asked me to do something fucked up to him while they were playing….I ask him if I can pee on him, he says “yeah, just piss in my hands”

At some part of one of their songs when Alexis doesn’t sing I get up on stage, pull my dick out, Alexis gets on his knees and cups his hands…then I piss in his hands….Alexis then proceeds to throw the piss accumulating in his hands on the audience.”

So…wait, what?

Alas, two years after the fact Herwig was still a little sore about having piss thrown on him. Can’t imagine why. So when given the opportunity to voice his discontent while the pissthrowers are in the building, does he lay a verbal suplex on them?

Oh Totall…eh, kinda.

The smack was paltry, but then again, I wouldn’t wanna stand in front of a crowd and shit talk a band when the end result is still that you got covered in urine. Some stains just don’t wash away.

And the winner is…

Draw: Although it sucks to get piss thrown on you, it’s also equally creepy to piss in another man’s hands. Everyone loses here.

ROUND 2: FIGHT!

Cam’ron

VS

Homosexuals

Harlem rapper Cam’ron is no stranger to beef. From slamming former label prez Jay-Z, trading blows with 50 Cent and even squabbling within his own crew, Killa Cam is always ready to keep it real (and increase brand awareness. You gotta get them energy drink endorsements, yo.)

One beef in particular takes the cake in my eyes, though. And it can be summed up in two words: “No Homo.”

Cam’ron has earned himself a footnote in the hip-hop lexicon after popularizing the phrase “no homo.” Inherently, it is the equivalent of calling “shotgun no blitz” with your masculinity. An example:

“Yo, all I’m saying is that when the Bears  picked up  Cap Boso  in 1987 and drafted  James “Robocop” Thornton in ’88, they solidified the offensive tight end positions, no homo.”

“I feel ya, the Bears had the tight ends on lock, no homo.”

“Where did Robocop get drafted from?”

“Cal State, Fullerton. Before that he was playing ball at Analy High.”

“Say what?”

“Analy High….”

(ahem)

“Oh, right. No homo.”

[awkward silence]

I’m sure Robocop Thorton could have benefited greatly form Cam’ron’s colloquialism, as he did indeed play tight end at Analy High. Located on Analy Ave.

As you can imagine, “no homo” didn’t sit too well with actual homosexuals.

To Cam’s defense, he does make an impassioned speech, concerning the use of first amendment rights, sexual identity and the need for tolerance while not allowing oneself to become a victim of political correctness.

Nah, he just says ‘no homo”about seven times in a minute and a half.

(Editors note: viewing disabled. To comprehend the sheer jaw-dropping insanity of no homo logic, the video can still be found here.)

So who wins in this all out brawl of linguistic masculinity versus utter fabulousness?

Before I declare a winner, I’d like to site to photographic evidence which many attribute to Cam’ron’s “no homo” renaissance:

And the winner is…

Homosexuals: Sorry, Cam. You’re my favorite rapper, but when you have to coin a new phrase to defend your decision to wear pink fur hats, you’ve pretty much shot yourself in the foot with your own Louis Vitton assault rifle.

Round 3: DRINK!

Brendan Kelly

VS

Ben Weasel

Okay, so you probably own My Brain Hurts. What? Get that shit now! Screeching Weasel were undeniably one of the best pop punk acts of the late 80′s/ early 90′s. Since their breakup, frontman Ben Weasel has gone on to hang out with douchebadgs, write a decent solo album and pander to audiences with his old material. Oh, and he does a podcast. That’s why we’re here.

On Ben Weasel’s podcast, he whines, acts like a dick, acts like a crybaby, acts like a dick again, whines some more and then goes out of his way to lay down this gem about The Lawrence Arms:

“The Lawrence Arms, a terrible godawful, horrible, band from Chicago with lyrics that read like something out of the poetry page of a high school year book. It’s embarrassing. You can’t believe these guys don’t get it.”

And then goes on to talk about how U2 is an awesome band.

Mind you, he’s attacking a band where this dude is the lead singer:

What exactly was Ben hoping to accomplish? We’ll never know.

Anyway, smack was talked. Ladies and gentleman, we have BEEF!

This six seconds of ranting lit the fires of contempt at punknews.org, and eventually, Larry Arms lead singer Brendan Kelly shot back.

No quotes here. Click the link and read. You should be reading Kelly’s blog anyhow. It’s like Garbage Day, only effortlessly funny. Go ahead, I’ll wait.

So as you can tell, Kelly handled himself with grace, class, humility and humor. Most surprising, he’s relatively sober.

This last example isn’t so much beef as why we shouldn’t start beef to begin with. Because honestly, talking shit gets you nowhere. No matter how badass you think you are shutting a person down, you still look like a petty goon at the end of the day.

With beef, there’s really no winner. You usually wind up covered in piss, pissing on someone, offending an entire segment of the population, looking like a closet homosexual, coming off as a whiny bitch, getting shot or eventually falling into the self-perpetuating cycle of staying relevant through starting beef.

Except in this case. Kelly Wins.