The Illiterate

Artists for Haiti—”We Are the World 25: For Haiti”
#2
Whatever else might be said, good or bad, about the original “We Are the World”, at least it was of its time. This new version, despite the urgency of the cause, or perhaps because of it, isn’t. Even more than the original it sounds self-serving and self-congratulatory, and though some have made a big deal of the addition of rappers to the mix, after 25 years their presence is neither surprising nor significant—if anything they make the record sound more dated. What is surprising is the anonymity of it all. On first listen the only voice I recognized was Justin Bieber’s, and after a few more go-rounds I’ve only been able to pick up on a few of the others. It’s not that the singers aren’t trying to be distinctive—if there’s such a thing as a melisma overdose this record could induce it—but they’ve all switched into sincere balladry mode and are trying their best to appear humble (in the most self-aggrandizing way), which tends to make them all sound alike. Let’s face it, ego is one of the driving forces of pop music, and successfully feeding it is as close as most pop stars get to emotional and intellectual achievement; without it they’re nothing.

Iyaz—”Solo”
#43
Second single, and he now sounds even more like Sean Kingston than the first time out. Which doesn’t make this bad, it just means that you’ve heard it before, and better.

General Larry Platt—”Pants On the Ground”
#46
A not very funny—not to mention years out of date—soundbite repeated obsessively for three and a half-minutes. I’m sure the General is a lovable old coot, and I hope he enjoys his five minutes of fame, but the best that can be said for this is that it’s better than William Hung.

Rihanna—”Rude Boy”
#64
Better than “Hard”, but only just. Considering Rihanna’s well-publicized personal history, the “treat me rough” message, though consensual and reciprocal, leaves a sour taste. I don’t want to go so far as to accuse her of capitalizing on her misfortunes, but I’m beginning to think the entirety of Rated R was a mistake.

Lloyd Banks featuring Juelz Santana—”Beamer, Benz, or Bentley”
#76
Banks is more than a second-rate 50 Cent, but not that much more, and he’s a lot cruder. He’s also a little behind the times: this sounds like a nostalgic flashback to 2004, back when cars and stacks could still impress all on their own.

Monica—”Everything To Me”
#82
An old-fashioned, unambitious soul number that never rises above its nostalgic impetus. Which is just a fancy way of saying it’s dull.

Waka Flacka Flame—”O Let’s Do It”
#95
There’s a part of me that’s glad somebody’s still making drug-dealer rap—the life exists, after all, and someone besides Ghostface Killah should be documenting it (though I doubt anyone else could be as good at it). So I appreciate the lyrical content. I just wish the music were better, or more connected to its subject matter, instead of this off-the-rack beat.

Kellie Pickler—”Didn’t You Know How Much I Loved You”
#99
Sweet and charming she may be, but Pickler’s talent is in the medium range, and ballads like this are beyond her. Of course, no one with above-average talent would choose material as generic as this to begin with.