it seems the artists these days are not who you think
- I don't know if you're as excited as I am, but tomorrow's internetting will make a lot of parents incredibly proud that their college tuition did not get spent in vain. Unless we all decide that the new Incubus album is more worthy of Monday's lead review, we're about to see the most hysterical overanalyzing of an LP that expresses so little, it makes a Big Tymers album sound like a "Plastic Ono Band"-style exercise in introspection. I mean, just read this and tell me tomorrow won't be awesome (seriously, Julianne...you might want to listen to the first verse of "Triumph" or something). Talk about putting words in their mouth. All that's left to decide is whether it will beat ol' Joanna's Metacritic score.
Speaking of her, remember what I said about "Ys," like, two months ago?
an impression of an overwrought Bjork trying to remake "Astral Weeks" with nothing but Disney incidental music and Kate Bush's worst unicorn fantasies.
And here's the thing- all these rave reviews of that album seem to agree with me. Different strokes, I guess, but if you can put this album on in a room full of normal people without their last words being, "what the fuck is this happy horseshit?," I'd really like to meet them. I mean, check out this...
He said; someone come quick!
The horses got loose, got grass-sick!
They'll founder! Fain, they'll die
What is now known by the sorrel and the roan?
By the chestnut, and the bay, and the gelding grey?
You're telling me that if some chick in a college poetry class started popping that shit, she wouldn't be ridiculed into an eating disorder? Kids really are soft these days. Actually, this album makes me wish I was still in college, because it reminds me of the process of using a certain CD to tell people to get the fuck out of our fraternity house and take your drunken hooking up back to the freshman dorms, where it belongs. I think I used Aphex Twin for a while, but eventually Burrows took that over by playing whatever doom metal crap he happened to be listening to at the time. Then again, we tried to make a party mix that everyone could agree on, and that dude ended up putting fuckin' "The Stars Are Projectors" on there.
But back to the lecture at hand, I'll just say this: if you think "Hell Hath No Fury" is an event or even an above-average rap album, you don't listen to enough rap. Simple as that. As a matter of fact, that's the album's biggest problem: it still sounds unfinished, a non-event. While I appreciate an album erring on the side of brevity, that doesn't change the fact that two out of the twelve songs here are "Wamp Wamp (What It Do)" and "Mr. Me Too." And other tracks feature such brilliant hooks as "bitch, I'm trill" and "dirty money, dirty money."
Topically, it's like Biggie said: "now they on some money shit, successful out the blue/They light weight...and you still recoupin', stupid." Has Kanye and his sweater vests changed the game to the point where Pharrell can be your best pal and no one questions your drug dealer credentials? Because that's the main problem here; Clipse, while they can come up with some fairly decent punchlines, never tell stories or narratives that can separate them from their characters. Once again, I have to compare it with "Fishscale" to show you the difference between being clever and creating a classic; listen to a song like "Shakey Dog" or "Crackspot." Ghost has the ability to turn them into mini-movies, replete with supporting characters, story arcs and eye-bulging images. Not to mention his voice is possibly the most expressive in hip-hop history. It doesn't matter that Ghost isn't dealing drugs anymore. But he can tell some ill stories. Clipse fail on that fundamental reason: it's not so much they spend an entire album lying to you or that they may be role playing the whole time. It's just that these characters are boring and aren't all that different than any other in the hip-hop game.
Then again, you'll accuse me of being a hypocrite for being a lyrics guy and liking the latest Game album. Ah, but lyrics are just a part of the equation. The Game actually reminds me of "Marshall Mathers LP" Eminem (in attitude, not lyrical acuity), and his one-man army routine is actually refreshing. Although I must say I find his overuse of the word "motherfuckin'" as a space-filler a lot more annoying than the name dropping. Not that I'm against cursing; just something about filling four syllables with that word rubs me the wrong way. GZA did this a lot on "Liquid Swords" too, which will always put it behind "Only Built 4 Cuban Linx..." for me.
Anyway, either of those two (at least they got rid of those other Re-Up Gang asshats for the most part) get on the mic, you get a couple of plays on words and you're right back where you started. Multiple listens to Clipse reveal nothing. And by the way, we were calling Ritalin "diet coke" in college, which is a lot more appropriate. Nice try, boys.
The whole Pharrell thing bites them in the ass on beats as well. Let's face it: a lot of the appeal behind "We Got It 4 Cheap" was that it was able to cherrypick some of the hottest instrumentals of the last decade. Fuck, even I couldn't fuck up the "Daytona 500" beat. And who didn't hear something like "I'm A Hustler" and immediately think, "God, I wish anyone other than Cassidy could rhyme over this...just an above-average guy, and we've got a classic"?
Can you think of twelve decent Neptunes beats that came out since "Grindin'"? Five? For all his virtues (which have deserted him since 2002), there are only a handful of producers capable of handling an entire album. RZA in the mid-90's, Organized Noise, Dr. Dre perhaps...but guys who are known for singles can't do it. Even at his best (say, "Miss E...So Addictive"), Timbaland would throw in one or two truly dud beats.
Pharrell's going for minimalism at a lot of points, but they just sound like beats that have instruments (like, say, bass) on layaway. He's cannibalizing "Drop It Like It's Hot" worse than he did "Superthug" in the late '90s.
Of course, this album is extra fun to champion because it lets you express antiquated anti-corporate screeds. Look, we're all aware of Rule #4,080, but I feel as much pity for the Clipse as I do for Edgerrin James right now. They knew damn well what they were getting into. Jive will be living off "Oops...I Did It Again" money until the end of time, and didn't they spend the majority of the '90s signing everyone who happened to share studio time with Too Short or E-40. I just think it's pretty delicious irony that a couple of guys who paint themselves as Godzilla hustlers got jerked something terrible by a bunch of people who peddle Britney Spears albums.
Particularly at this point, any artist with a decent business acumen knows that you don't go major label until your indie can't do anything more for you. Why not go Koch if you're really getting $8 an album? How many copies of "4:21" were bought because of Def Jam's marketing strength? And how can anyone possibly use the "record labels are evil" line when "The Crane Wife" had two 12-minute songs on it? You think Colin Meloy ran up in Capitol with guns drawn to get that? If you prove you deserve autonomy, you'll get it.
Clipse keeps getting fucked over because they've proven that they'll do club shit even though they absolutely cannot write hooks to save their life. "Wamp Wamp" and "Mr. Me Too" were dead on arrival, which shouldn't surprise anyone who heard "Ma, I Don't Love Her," which might have the worst chorus of any song in the 21st century.
But all this is irrelevant, because places like Pitchfork and, of course, my own damn website basically begged Jive for this album and we'll all look real stupid if it turns out to be the 7.0/B album that it so is. What you'll read tomorrow is the critical community lying to itself, but I guess that's appropriate after listening to an album that's 50 minutes of lying to the listener.
Okay, you may be thinking: "why care? Just ignore it." Well, I'm not one to overstate importance of music criticism, but it does serve as a counterpoint to typically popular stuff. If the only thing that changed about "Funeral" was that it got a 7.7 instead of a 9.7, you think they cause the same hubbub? Do you remember reading about "Madvillainy" in Rolling Stone? Does MF Doom get on a Gorillaz album without internet hype? I fucking miss the days when 'fork and 'em could at least admit to being elitist. We've all gone from breaking Broken Social Scene and The Wrens to giving B.G. a second chance at a major label deal. Really, nothing sums it up like a choice quote that got lumped into our review of Dave Chappelle's Block Party...
But I never like seeing an entire subculture sacrificed to groupthink, even when I agree, for the most part, with Village Voice blogger Tom Breihan when he calls indie-rap (ED- in other words, anyone in the movie) “rap reimagined as half-articulated boho worldview rather than, like, a way to have fun.”
The reviewer then later goes on to call "like ranch, I dip" a "lethal punchline." I'll let you guess who he quotes. But yeah, Black Star was a whole lot less fun than Clipse. Common never wrote a party song. Fuck the Roots trying to broaden hip-hop's instrumental pallette. Fuck rap doing anything other than presenting and reinforcing negative stereotypes of black people for white internet pleasure. I love how Clipse had a line that went "all I see is blackface and you singin' 'Mammy.'" Was he looking in the mirror or something? Maybe they're introspective after all.
This wouldn't be so bad if there were less people in positions of power (influentially) that take their opinions unfiltered from the internet. Is there any coincidence that ever since praising shitty coke-rap became cool, you've heard more complaints about how there aren't any good rap albums anymore? Shit, "Kingdom Come" could very well be a top-ten major label hip-hop album of 2006 because I have a lot of trouble thinking of nine others that are actually out there. "Late Registration" may have been Time-hop (need to think of a better term), but if the same guys are gonna ride for "Hell Hath No Fury" one year later, I'll say all is forgiven.
- Speaking of which, I planned to make this a separate post when it happened, but hey...you get your fill on Sundays now. Make this last all week if you have to.
We all know what happened in the University of Miami brawl against Florida International. There's no need to rehash any of it. But have you heard anything about this? Really, go ahead and read the story, if for no other reason than the following line:
He is known as one of the few Southern rap artists who compose thoughtful lyrics.
Because I think we all know Tom Breihan slept outside the offices of the Baltimore Sun for years just so he could shoehorn this quote in.
The bigger question is this: suppose that event happened at your alma mater. Further, suppose it was your school wildin' out against FIU on the gridiron. What would be more embarassing? It's pretty tough; I think most of us feel as if the football program at our schools represent a separate arm of the university. Yes, I went to school concurrently with Aaron Brooks, but I'm pretty sure his life was incredibly different than mine. He had an armada of tutors and coaches ensuring that his stutterin' ass got to class and made decent enough grades. All I had were my parents (keep in mind, the dorm phones didn't have caller ID in 1998).
But what if your fellow classmates were injuring themselves chasing dollar bills at a Lil' Wayne concert? Ignore your appraisal of Lil' Wayne as an MC; this could be a Jibbs show for all I care. Odds are, the one thing you take the most pride in when it comes to your alma mater is its educational reputation. While football woes may get more media attention, you can always figure that the team operates on a different level than most students. Here are your fellow classmates literally beating each other up for one-dollar bills. Any thoughts?
- Speaking of which, there was a lot of exciting football being played yesterday, but for cursory watching, nothing will top the Bayou Classic. Everyone knows about the marching bands, but there are more subtle pleasures to keep you hooked. For one thing, there's the special teams. If you want to see an extra point shanked five yards wide left or a punt from the endzone falling out of bounds at the 25-yard line, you'll be a pig in shit here. I know that a lot of HBCU's are under financial strain, but can't they get a strength and conditioning guy? A lot of offensive lines just look like the coach went around campus picking the five fattest people he could find.
But best of all are the uniforms. Now, I've always made it a rule that if I've seen a color combination on an NFL uniform, it matches in real life as well. But this is why I don't include the college ranks...
Still I stay dipped like the first day of school
That shit looks like the Karl Kani gear that ended up in Marshall's when my brother worked there...in, like, 1994.
- Glad to see that Roger Mason is back on his grind with the Wiz. I can't wait until he gets dealt at the trading deadline again. He's shaping up to be this generation's Rick Brunson.
- Also, glad to know that I don't have to commit to watching any more Eagles games this year. I certainly hope those linebackers didn't get paid. Maybe Andre Waters saw it coming. R.I.P., Dirty. I'm just hoping Izell Jenkins is taking this season a little better.
Probably will be subject to more updates.
Speaking of her, remember what I said about "Ys," like, two months ago?
an impression of an overwrought Bjork trying to remake "Astral Weeks" with nothing but Disney incidental music and Kate Bush's worst unicorn fantasies.
And here's the thing- all these rave reviews of that album seem to agree with me. Different strokes, I guess, but if you can put this album on in a room full of normal people without their last words being, "what the fuck is this happy horseshit?," I'd really like to meet them. I mean, check out this...
He said; someone come quick!
The horses got loose, got grass-sick!
They'll founder! Fain, they'll die
What is now known by the sorrel and the roan?
By the chestnut, and the bay, and the gelding grey?
You're telling me that if some chick in a college poetry class started popping that shit, she wouldn't be ridiculed into an eating disorder? Kids really are soft these days. Actually, this album makes me wish I was still in college, because it reminds me of the process of using a certain CD to tell people to get the fuck out of our fraternity house and take your drunken hooking up back to the freshman dorms, where it belongs. I think I used Aphex Twin for a while, but eventually Burrows took that over by playing whatever doom metal crap he happened to be listening to at the time. Then again, we tried to make a party mix that everyone could agree on, and that dude ended up putting fuckin' "The Stars Are Projectors" on there.
But back to the lecture at hand, I'll just say this: if you think "Hell Hath No Fury" is an event or even an above-average rap album, you don't listen to enough rap. Simple as that. As a matter of fact, that's the album's biggest problem: it still sounds unfinished, a non-event. While I appreciate an album erring on the side of brevity, that doesn't change the fact that two out of the twelve songs here are "Wamp Wamp (What It Do)" and "Mr. Me Too." And other tracks feature such brilliant hooks as "bitch, I'm trill" and "dirty money, dirty money."
Topically, it's like Biggie said: "now they on some money shit, successful out the blue/They light weight...and you still recoupin', stupid." Has Kanye and his sweater vests changed the game to the point where Pharrell can be your best pal and no one questions your drug dealer credentials? Because that's the main problem here; Clipse, while they can come up with some fairly decent punchlines, never tell stories or narratives that can separate them from their characters. Once again, I have to compare it with "Fishscale" to show you the difference between being clever and creating a classic; listen to a song like "Shakey Dog" or "Crackspot." Ghost has the ability to turn them into mini-movies, replete with supporting characters, story arcs and eye-bulging images. Not to mention his voice is possibly the most expressive in hip-hop history. It doesn't matter that Ghost isn't dealing drugs anymore. But he can tell some ill stories. Clipse fail on that fundamental reason: it's not so much they spend an entire album lying to you or that they may be role playing the whole time. It's just that these characters are boring and aren't all that different than any other in the hip-hop game.
Then again, you'll accuse me of being a hypocrite for being a lyrics guy and liking the latest Game album. Ah, but lyrics are just a part of the equation. The Game actually reminds me of "Marshall Mathers LP" Eminem (in attitude, not lyrical acuity), and his one-man army routine is actually refreshing. Although I must say I find his overuse of the word "motherfuckin'" as a space-filler a lot more annoying than the name dropping. Not that I'm against cursing; just something about filling four syllables with that word rubs me the wrong way. GZA did this a lot on "Liquid Swords" too, which will always put it behind "Only Built 4 Cuban Linx..." for me.
Anyway, either of those two (at least they got rid of those other Re-Up Gang asshats for the most part) get on the mic, you get a couple of plays on words and you're right back where you started. Multiple listens to Clipse reveal nothing. And by the way, we were calling Ritalin "diet coke" in college, which is a lot more appropriate. Nice try, boys.
The whole Pharrell thing bites them in the ass on beats as well. Let's face it: a lot of the appeal behind "We Got It 4 Cheap" was that it was able to cherrypick some of the hottest instrumentals of the last decade. Fuck, even I couldn't fuck up the "Daytona 500" beat. And who didn't hear something like "I'm A Hustler" and immediately think, "God, I wish anyone other than Cassidy could rhyme over this...just an above-average guy, and we've got a classic"?
Can you think of twelve decent Neptunes beats that came out since "Grindin'"? Five? For all his virtues (which have deserted him since 2002), there are only a handful of producers capable of handling an entire album. RZA in the mid-90's, Organized Noise, Dr. Dre perhaps...but guys who are known for singles can't do it. Even at his best (say, "Miss E...So Addictive"), Timbaland would throw in one or two truly dud beats.
Pharrell's going for minimalism at a lot of points, but they just sound like beats that have instruments (like, say, bass) on layaway. He's cannibalizing "Drop It Like It's Hot" worse than he did "Superthug" in the late '90s.
Of course, this album is extra fun to champion because it lets you express antiquated anti-corporate screeds. Look, we're all aware of Rule #4,080, but I feel as much pity for the Clipse as I do for Edgerrin James right now. They knew damn well what they were getting into. Jive will be living off "Oops...I Did It Again" money until the end of time, and didn't they spend the majority of the '90s signing everyone who happened to share studio time with Too Short or E-40. I just think it's pretty delicious irony that a couple of guys who paint themselves as Godzilla hustlers got jerked something terrible by a bunch of people who peddle Britney Spears albums.
Particularly at this point, any artist with a decent business acumen knows that you don't go major label until your indie can't do anything more for you. Why not go Koch if you're really getting $8 an album? How many copies of "4:21" were bought because of Def Jam's marketing strength? And how can anyone possibly use the "record labels are evil" line when "The Crane Wife" had two 12-minute songs on it? You think Colin Meloy ran up in Capitol with guns drawn to get that? If you prove you deserve autonomy, you'll get it.
Clipse keeps getting fucked over because they've proven that they'll do club shit even though they absolutely cannot write hooks to save their life. "Wamp Wamp" and "Mr. Me Too" were dead on arrival, which shouldn't surprise anyone who heard "Ma, I Don't Love Her," which might have the worst chorus of any song in the 21st century.
But all this is irrelevant, because places like Pitchfork and, of course, my own damn website basically begged Jive for this album and we'll all look real stupid if it turns out to be the 7.0/B album that it so is. What you'll read tomorrow is the critical community lying to itself, but I guess that's appropriate after listening to an album that's 50 minutes of lying to the listener.
Okay, you may be thinking: "why care? Just ignore it." Well, I'm not one to overstate importance of music criticism, but it does serve as a counterpoint to typically popular stuff. If the only thing that changed about "Funeral" was that it got a 7.7 instead of a 9.7, you think they cause the same hubbub? Do you remember reading about "Madvillainy" in Rolling Stone? Does MF Doom get on a Gorillaz album without internet hype? I fucking miss the days when 'fork and 'em could at least admit to being elitist. We've all gone from breaking Broken Social Scene and The Wrens to giving B.G. a second chance at a major label deal. Really, nothing sums it up like a choice quote that got lumped into our review of Dave Chappelle's Block Party...
But I never like seeing an entire subculture sacrificed to groupthink, even when I agree, for the most part, with Village Voice blogger Tom Breihan when he calls indie-rap (ED- in other words, anyone in the movie) “rap reimagined as half-articulated boho worldview rather than, like, a way to have fun.”
The reviewer then later goes on to call "like ranch, I dip" a "lethal punchline." I'll let you guess who he quotes. But yeah, Black Star was a whole lot less fun than Clipse. Common never wrote a party song. Fuck the Roots trying to broaden hip-hop's instrumental pallette. Fuck rap doing anything other than presenting and reinforcing negative stereotypes of black people for white internet pleasure. I love how Clipse had a line that went "all I see is blackface and you singin' 'Mammy.'" Was he looking in the mirror or something? Maybe they're introspective after all.
This wouldn't be so bad if there were less people in positions of power (influentially) that take their opinions unfiltered from the internet. Is there any coincidence that ever since praising shitty coke-rap became cool, you've heard more complaints about how there aren't any good rap albums anymore? Shit, "Kingdom Come" could very well be a top-ten major label hip-hop album of 2006 because I have a lot of trouble thinking of nine others that are actually out there. "Late Registration" may have been Time-hop (need to think of a better term), but if the same guys are gonna ride for "Hell Hath No Fury" one year later, I'll say all is forgiven.
- Speaking of which, I planned to make this a separate post when it happened, but hey...you get your fill on Sundays now. Make this last all week if you have to.
We all know what happened in the University of Miami brawl against Florida International. There's no need to rehash any of it. But have you heard anything about this? Really, go ahead and read the story, if for no other reason than the following line:
He is known as one of the few Southern rap artists who compose thoughtful lyrics.
Because I think we all know Tom Breihan slept outside the offices of the Baltimore Sun for years just so he could shoehorn this quote in.
The bigger question is this: suppose that event happened at your alma mater. Further, suppose it was your school wildin' out against FIU on the gridiron. What would be more embarassing? It's pretty tough; I think most of us feel as if the football program at our schools represent a separate arm of the university. Yes, I went to school concurrently with Aaron Brooks, but I'm pretty sure his life was incredibly different than mine. He had an armada of tutors and coaches ensuring that his stutterin' ass got to class and made decent enough grades. All I had were my parents (keep in mind, the dorm phones didn't have caller ID in 1998).
But what if your fellow classmates were injuring themselves chasing dollar bills at a Lil' Wayne concert? Ignore your appraisal of Lil' Wayne as an MC; this could be a Jibbs show for all I care. Odds are, the one thing you take the most pride in when it comes to your alma mater is its educational reputation. While football woes may get more media attention, you can always figure that the team operates on a different level than most students. Here are your fellow classmates literally beating each other up for one-dollar bills. Any thoughts?
- Speaking of which, there was a lot of exciting football being played yesterday, but for cursory watching, nothing will top the Bayou Classic. Everyone knows about the marching bands, but there are more subtle pleasures to keep you hooked. For one thing, there's the special teams. If you want to see an extra point shanked five yards wide left or a punt from the endzone falling out of bounds at the 25-yard line, you'll be a pig in shit here. I know that a lot of HBCU's are under financial strain, but can't they get a strength and conditioning guy? A lot of offensive lines just look like the coach went around campus picking the five fattest people he could find.
But best of all are the uniforms. Now, I've always made it a rule that if I've seen a color combination on an NFL uniform, it matches in real life as well. But this is why I don't include the college ranks...
Still I stay dipped like the first day of school
That shit looks like the Karl Kani gear that ended up in Marshall's when my brother worked there...in, like, 1994.
- Glad to see that Roger Mason is back on his grind with the Wiz. I can't wait until he gets dealt at the trading deadline again. He's shaping up to be this generation's Rick Brunson.
- Also, glad to know that I don't have to commit to watching any more Eagles games this year. I certainly hope those linebackers didn't get paid. Maybe Andre Waters saw it coming. R.I.P., Dirty. I'm just hoping Izell Jenkins is taking this season a little better.
Probably will be subject to more updates.
posted by Ian at 5:20 PM
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