Posts Tagged ‘Darius Rucker’

New this week—7/25/10

Tuesday, July 27th, 2010

Usher featuring Pitbull—”DJ Got Us Falling In Love”
#19

When I saw this I figured that Usher would be overshadowed by Pitbull—and he is, barely—but I didn’t suspect they’d both be left in the dust by producer Max Martin, who owns this record, for better or worse. It’s not great, but it’s a lot more fun than anything else Usher has released lately, and it’s certainly a step up from “OMG”. Pitbull sounds a little lost, though, as if he’d suddenly found himself transported from Miami to a Swedish disco and was trying to bluff his way out.

Darius Rucker—”Come Back Song”
#67

Easygoing country is in fashion now, and Rucker is it’s king. This is so easygoing, in fact, that you don’t believe a word of it—if he really wanted his woman back he’d come up with a better apology than “My bad.” He loses me, though, on the very first line: “I woke up again this morning…” Yeah, I hate when that happens, too.

New Boys featuring Iyaz—”Break My Bank”
#71

They still possess a certain amount of charm, but their jerkin’ days are over. For one thing, no matter how young the artists are, jerkers don’t make little kids stuff, which is apparently all that Iyaz is capable of. What a disappointment.

Auburn featuring Iyaz—”La La La”
#74

More kindergarten hip-hop, this time from producer J.R. Rotem, who essentially invented the genre with Sean Kingston and Iyaz. Catchy and irritating in equal measure; a whirlpool of inanity and overproduction designed to suck you into the void.

Chiddy Bang—”Opposite of Adults”
#90

Despite their dis of Asher Roth, these guys work close to the same territory. Their beats are denser and more “authentic”, their rhymes more clever, but their snotty twenty-something persona is right out of Roth’s playbook. When you compare yourself to a Will Ferrell character, you’re tagging yourself in a way that’s going to be damn hard to shake off. I remember when rappers used to make fun of posh snobs, not play them.

Hannah Montana—”Ordinary Girl”
#91

Terrible record, but I find it interesting that Miley Cyrus’s alter ego says straight out what Cyrus can never manage to say herself without tons of costume and make-up. The only thing they get wrong is the humility. I don’t think Cyrus thinks of herself as an ordinary girl at all.

Monica—”Love All Over Me”
#94

Maybe it’s just my own dirty mind, but the obvious double entendre of the title line and Monica’s intense sincerity in the rendering of it make me laugh every time I hear this song. Good thing for her it’s a ballad, or every rapper in the country would be freestyling all over her as well.

Easton Corbin—”Roll With It”
#98

Corbin has his charms, but this is a very ordinary George Strait rip-off minus Strait’s sense of moderation and taste. Though it does confirm my growing belief that the real test of country authenticity is whether or not you were conceived in the back of a pickup truck.

Rob Thomas—”Mockingbird”
#100

“We can’t move on/We can’t stay here”. Is he talking about the 80s?

New this week

Friday, October 30th, 2009

Glee Cast
“Sweet Caroline”, #34
“Bust A Move”, #93

The cover of Neil Diamond’s hoary old chestnut does a pretty good job of puncturing Diamond’s self-importance, if only because the singer is incapable of the sort chest thumping fullness of voice that Diamond was born to. But as to whether the joke was intentional or not, I have no idea. As for “Bust A Move”, it’s their most surprising cover yet, but it’s also easy, and stinks of demographic as opposed to satiric or comic intentions. I mean, if they really wanted to play against their white bread atmosphere, why not “Mama Said Knock You Out” or “Fight The Power”?

Adam Lambert—”Time for Miracles”
#50
As ghastly as every other movie soundtrack ballad, only, as befits a movie about the end of the world, even more over-the-top. I would love to know who’s responsible for the string arrangement, which hovers between mindless overkill and stunning self-parody.

Snoop Dogg featuring The-Dream—”Gangsta Luv”
#57
I was expecting this to be another of Snoop’s biennial greats like “Drop It Like It’s Hot” or “Sensual Seduction”. Instead it’s a very ordinary jam from The-Dream (who’s become almost as bereft of ideas as Jermaine Dupri), with Snoop sounding even sleepier than usual. He really doesn’t care, anymore, does he?

Tim McGraw—”Southern Voice”
#61
Another country list song, distinguished only by the weirdness of its choices: the first verse starts naturally enough with Hank Williams, and then moves through Hank’s grandson to Chuck Berry, William Faulkner, Aretha (not from the south, but what the hell), Dolly, and Rosa Parks before ending with Scarlet O’Hara. Although he namechecks “Hickory Wind” he doesn’t mention Graham Parsons by name, and he makes sure to keep his Christian audience on board by mentioning his gold cross and ending the list with Billy Graham. He manages to sneak Pocahantas on there, as well. This may set some sort of record for how many demographics can be genuflected to in a single song.

T-Pain—”Take Your Shirt Off”
#80
I was put off by this at first—I generally prefer my T-Pain more subtle (as subtle as he gets, anyway), and this struck me as a mindless Lil Jon knock-off. Except Lil Jon never managed tracks as frenetic or musically complicated as this, and though he can get ruder he’s isn’t any funnier. Where crunk jumped up and down in place, this motivates forward at high speed, stops and jumps up and down, and then motivates again. As party music it’s just about perfect, and party music seems to be all that anyone wants these days.

Trey Songz featuring Drake—”I Invented Sex”
#90
In overall tone, this follows along in the tradition of “Bed” and “Birthday Sex”, only this is more sophisticated and less funny, and also, to my ears at least, a lot sexier. This version, featuring Drake, tops Drake’s version, featuring Trey Songz. Songz voice has just the right vulnerable, self-effacing quality to get over, whereas Drake sounds a little full of himself, a bit crass. Even on a song as excellent as this, I like him less everytime I hear him.

Carrie Underwood—”Temporary Home”
#92
This is why a lot of people hate country music—sticky and sentimental, with a religious message tacked onto the end that, instead of adding a level of hope, cheapens the suffering of the characters in the song. Come to think of it, this is why a lot of people hate religion, too.

Owl City—”Vanilla Twilight”
#95
If this isn’t the vanishing point that indie infantilism has been moving toward these last few years then I’m Winnie the Pooh and his jar of honey too. “Pour me a cup of atmosphere”, the singer (who’s also the band) whimpers in a voice that would make any intelligent five year old squeamish, and you’ll excuse me for wishing he’d choke on it. And from what I’ve heard, all the indie crowd, when faced with such damning evidence of the hole they’ve been digging themselves the last few years, can come up with in way of defense is “He’s just ripping off The Postal Service.” Exactly.

Darius Rucker—”History In the Making”
#99
I appreciate Rucker because unlike most male country singers he doesn’t waste a lot of time whooping it up and overplaying his love of God and country or treat his voice like some sort of icon whose every shift of timbre and craggy intonation is designed to make women quake in their Daisy Dukes and cowboy boots. He’s just an ordinary guy singing about ordinary things in an at times very ordinary way. He’s nothing to get excited about, but he isn’t an irritant, either. If that sometimes makes him dull, as it does here, then so be it.

Rihanna—”Russian Roulette”
#100
I’m unsure what to make of this record. Even if you assume it’s meant as a metaphor for abusive relationships, on first listen the song is as terrifying as it was no doubt intended to be, metaphor or no. But on repeated listening the effect not only lessens, which is to be expected, but drains away almost completely. The problem, as always, is Rihanna’s voice, which conveys no real feeling or emotion—she barely sounds as if she has a life to lose. That could be part of the point, I suppose, but it creates a distance in the song that becomes impossible to breach and ultimately deprives it of any meaningful impact. And impact, I think, was exactly what she was looking for.

New This Week

Monday, May 25th, 2009

Eminem—“Beautiful”
#17

The recent interview with Eminem in the New York Times confirms two obvious points about Relapse: one, it came out of a period of intense confusion, depression and self-doubt; two, the Slim Shady stuff was done more from a sense of duty to fans than any real desire to resurrect the persona. Which explains why this record, where Eminem speaks pretty much as himself, is so much superior to the Shady-oriented material that preceded it. I have my doubts about the power ballad intro and outro, but this is a great record. Even clean and sober, though, Eminem finds himself in a difficult position. The Slim Shady stuff is old hat, but he can’t, and shouldn’t, build the next phase of his a career out of down-tempo raps about depression (leave that to the indie kids). He needs something new, something that will probably alienate large sections of his audience. As much as I respect his desire to please his old fans, he may find that they’re another dependency he’ll have to wean himself from. Are their twelve-step programs for adulation addiction?

Jordin Sparks—“Battlefield”
#32

I’ve liked some of Sparks’ earlier records, but the bombast here is too much, with whatever personality and charm she possesses overpowered by thundering drums. Note to songwriters and producers: “Umbrella”-inspired songs with choruses that consist of nothing but the title repeated over and over like an echo are old and overdone. Time for a new trick, please.

Jonas Brothers—“Paranoid”
#37

Critics, and the Brothers themselves, are attributing the darker tones of this record to “maturity” (why, they’re almost a year older than they were when they made their last album!), but it probably has more to do with spending the last few years on the entertainment industry hamster wheel. Since I assume these clean cut boys don’t ingest any substance stronger than caffeine, their paranoia is probably the result of sleep deprivation more than anything else, which would explain why the change of tone is lyrical rather than musical; their machine-tooled pop-punk is as bouncy as ever, and just as unoriginal. If I can be excused an untoward comparison, they’re in roughly the same place The Beatles were in late ‘64/early ‘65: exhausted, but still game. In the Brothers case, though, I don’t think there’s an equivalent to Rubber Soul waiting around the bend, and not just because they don’t smoke dope.

Cobra Starship featuring Leighton Meester—“Good Girls Go Bad”
#76

Coming on the heels of Lady GaGa and 3Oh!3, this single suggests a new trend: bombastic electro-influenced records about women losing (or intentionally throwing away) their inhibitions. This one includes an appearance by a member of the cast of Gossip Girl, which should cement the idea in the minds of culture watchers nicely. If this becomes a hit, there should be a piece in the New York Times Style section before the summer is out.

The Fray—“Heartless”
#79

I’d be more than willing to ignore The Fray if they saved their self-indulgent warbling for their own material, but this act of desecration forces my hand. Say goodbye to Hinder and Nickelback, because these guys are now officially the Worst Band in the World. Question: Does this mean “You Found Me” would sound good if Kanye sang it? Answer: No.

Jessie James—“Wanted”
#87

Many people, including me, complain that country is still lost in the late ’70s, or maybe the early ’80s, but this roaring piece of female raunch is as modern as it gets. That is, it’s main influences aren’t the Eagles or John Mellencamp, but Kelly Clarkson and, especially, Katy Perry. This may sound horrible to you, and it certainly isn’t what most people would call country, but Nashville professionalism and attention to lyrical and musical detail make it more interesting than most of Clarkson’s and Perry’s stuff. Sexier, too–and a lot dirtier.

Darius Rucker—“Alright”
#91

Rucker’s first two country singles possessed the lyrical specificity and detail that makes up for a lot of rote arrangements and fruity singing in Nashville. This one doesn’t. He sounds almost as vague as Hootie.

The Pussycat Dolls featuring Nicole Scherzinger—“Hush Hush”
#96

A terrible record, and when it shifts into “I Will Survive” you can feel the desperation take hold as the Dolls slide back into the oblivion from which they came. The only thing that keeps this from being the worst single of the year is the existence of The Fray.

Trey Songz—“I Need a Girl”
#100

Chris Brown having sabotaged his career, Trey Songz steps into the gap with the oldest trick in the pop book. He needs a girl, and ladies, you could be the one. All you need to do is hollaback, preferably in the form of buying this record, the album, concert tickets, and associated merchandise. Not a bad song, but the blatant pandering is a bit much.