Posts Tagged ‘Eminem’

New this week—12/27/09

Saturday, December 26th, 2009

Eminem
“Hell Breaks Loose” (featuring Dr. Dre), #29
“Elevator”, #67

There’s no doubt that these are sharper and more to the point than the tracks on the original version of Relapse—less fussy and more energetic, as well (even Dre sounds fully focused for a change). So even though they’re nothing new in and of themselves, they are promising. Maybe Slim Shady has some life in him yet. Whether or not that’s a a good thing at this stage—or at Eminem’s age—is open to question.

Alicia Keys—”Empire State of Mind (Part II) Broken Down”
#55

The hook is still there, but the verses sound like Keys did a Google search for big city cliches—”concrete jungle”, “melting pot”, women working the streets, etc.—and didn’t bother to come up with a single idea of her own. As for her musical abilities, she’s become one the most irritating keyboard players I’ve ever heard—all meaningless fills and runs, quaranteed to trivialize the rare instances she actually has something to say.

Adam Lambert—”Whataya Want From Me”
#72

As much as I respect and appreciate the way Lambert has faced down his conservative critics, I still find myself stopping short when it comes to his music. The best song on his album is a Lady Gaga reject, and on this P!nk reject he achieves nothing except a decent, mediocre imitation of the original owner. If he’s going to keep fighting for the right to be himself, isn’t it time he actually put himself on record?

Robin Thicke—”Sex Therapy”
#79

Thicke tries hard, and his grooves are sexy and intelligent, an achievement both impressive and rare. But then he gets to the chorus, and I’m sorry, but nobody, nobody in the world, not even the resurrection of Marvin Gaye himself, could convince me that Lesley Gore, or anything that Lesley Gore has ever touched, is sexy. Once Thicke puts his warm and tender hands on “It’s My Party”, the sex therapy ends, the session is over, and all that remains is camp. Maybe for those younger than me, who are less familiar with the original, the effect isn’t as extreme, but as far as I’m concerned there’s no way to take this record seriously after the chorus, and no amount of horny falsetto will ever convice me otherwise.

Usher featuring Plies—”Hey Daddy (Daddy’s Home)”
#94

I had no idea Usher felt he had sunk so low that he had to resort to pairing up with The Worst Rapper In the World®, but here they are all the same. The image created by the chorus, of Usher’s lover with her butt in the air murmuring the title phrase, is bad enough, but then Plies steps in, and it turns out that his idea of eroticism is pouring Kool-Aid on a woman’s back and kissing it off before any of it spills. I just hope “Kool-Aid” isn’t code for something even more disgusting.

New This Week

Tuesday, September 29th, 2009

Drake featuring Kanye West, Lil Wayne & Eminem—”Forever”
#8

The beat is rote, the raps display a high amount of craft but little inspiration, and the air of self-congratulation is so thick it’s a wonder anyone else can breathe when these guys are in the room, but that’s not what makes this record so offensive. What’s makes this record so offensive is Drake, who lies through his teeth every damn minute of it. Exactly when did a guy who was a regular cast member on a successful TV series from the time he was fifteen shovel shit at the mall? When he was signing autographs on promotional tours? Or was that an episode of DeGrassi High he somehow confused with real life the way Ronald Reagan used to argue government policy by reminiscing about movies he’d been in? And when Drake says “nothing was done for me” what exactly does he mean? He’s got Lil Wayne for a mentor, he’s got a father who’s a well-respected session drummer, and his uncle is Larry Graham, formerly of Sly and the Family Stone and Graham Central Station, one of the most influential bass players in the history of funk and R&B. None of them lent him a hand or showed him a few chops or opened the occasional door or offered a few words of advice? Ever? I realize it’s accepted in the rap world to emphasize and exaggerate your hard knock past, but inventing one out of whole cloth strikes me as going way too far.

Drake featuring Lil Wayne & Young Jeezy—”I’m Going In”
#40

Drake has nothing to say, Lil Wayne sounds uninspired and repeats himself, and Young Jeezy says “motherfucker” a lot. This is a statement of purpose?

Leona Lewis—”Happy”
#50

Weird lyrics; they seem defensive, as if they were trying to justify the metaphorical excesses of her first hit, “Bleeding Love”. Maybe somebody suggested to Ryan Tedder he’d gone a little too far last time. Whatever the case, this is, thankfully, less self-abusive than “Bleeding” (or at least less graphic), and the chorus, surprisingly enough, almost lives up to the title. If Lewis wasn’t trying so hard to be the new Mariah Carey this might even be tolerable.

Kid Cudi featuring MGMT & Ratatat—”Pursuit of Happiness (Nightmare)”
#59

It opens with Cudi (or at least his “lonely stoner” persona) rolling a joint, ends with a booze and dope fueled hangover, and in between ruminates, without relying too heavily on banalities, on a stoner lifestyle that sounds half fun and games and half self-medicated chronic depression. In other words, an interesting record, but also a trifle boring. The sound effects provided by Ratatat and MGMT are far less interesting than the borrowed dubstep of “Day ‘n’ Nite”; if this is the kind of music the guy listens to on a regular basis, it’s no wonder he doesn’t want to get out of bed

LMFAO—”La La La”
#61

Their borrowed lover man moves and borrowed techno are far less entertaining than their borrowed offensiveness (see “I’m In Miami Bitch”). Which wasn’t all that entertaining to begin with.

Mariah Carey—”I Want To Know What Love Is”
#66

In a way I feel sorry for Carey. After mounting her comeback and making the best music of her career over her last two albums (which wouldn’t be saying much, I know, execpt that there was truly excellent material on both records), she finds the ground shifting under her feet once again. The modern R&B she mastered so effortlessly had peaked with Usher over a year before her comeback album, and her older, massively successful style has been usurped by the likes of Leona Lewis, who gushes over-the-top sentimentality in a way Carey wouldn’t think to do now. And so, after a few flop singles and a couple of hits that were nowhere near the overwhelming sellers she’s used to, Carey goes back to the safety position of the power ballad (and a hoary old 80′s classic power ballad at that—”classic” in this case meaning a Foreigner song that everyone has heard to death already), unleashes her pipes at the upper limit of her range (though only near the end and deep in the mix, thank God), and generally pulls out all the commercial stops, and still the best she can get for a debut is number 66. The shame of it is that until this takes off for the Church of Our Lady Mariah of the Golden Larynx it shows more maturity and subtlety and soulfullness than any ballad she’s ever recorded. It’s not a great song, but for awhile she almost makes something great out of it—until, that is, she feels the need to ignore the song completely and massage her audience with her voice.

The Black Eyed Peas—”Meet Me Halfway”
#75

Like it or not, Fergie’s feigned soulfulness is a kind of home truth for a lot of fans out there, and I for one think that the Peas’ resistance to polishing up their singing is an attribute, certainly commercially if not always artistically. They appear to have no aesthetic principals at all, yet also come across as both friendly and likeable. This could be nothing but commercial calculation, but since they were pretty much like that even when they weren’t selling any records (and since “My Humps”, which is obviously the pattern for a lot of the new album, took them as much by surprise as anyone), I doubt it. They may well have fallen on this formula by accident, but who can fault them for running with it? Like it or not, they’re producing something that’s truly new, and they’ve convinced an army of fans to go along with them.

Bon Jovi—”We Weren’t Born To Follow”
#90

No, you were born to endlessy repeat yourself. And you’re good at it.

The All-American Rejects—”I Wanna”
#95

There’s actually a fairly nifty, if totally unoriginal, song under all the ego flashing, and under the influence of the remasters I detect a similarity in structure, melody and rhythm to the Rubber Soul era Beatles. But the Beatles usually knew how to keep their egos from getting in the way of their music (at least most of the time), something I doubt these guys will ever learn. To them, flaunting their ego is the music.

Carrie Underwood—”Cowboy Casanova”
#96

Always hip to the latest fab trends, Underwood harkens to the success of Katy Perry, mines some bubble-glam rhythms from the seventies, and even dresses up in a glittery drum-majorette jacket for the cover (or icon, or whatever you call it these days). It’s nice to see Nashville paying attention to a different part of the seventies, even if they still remain lost in that decade. The lyrics are generic, and this doesn’t hit as hard as “Before He Cheats”, but I suspect good clean fun like this is the best we can ever expect from Underwood.

Alice In Chains—”Check My Brain”
#99

I have one question: did they distort those guitars the old-fashioned way, by playing with the tape reels, or did they auto-tune them? Also, is it just my imagination, or is this song actually about how nice it is to live in California? I’m probably missing some ironic or cynical lyrical clue, but I can’t bring myself to listen closely enough to find out. Those guitars give me too much of a headache.

New This Week

Saturday, May 30th, 2009

As everybody knows, this is American Idol week on the Hot 100. Before last year, this would have meant that whatever lamentable ballad had been foisted on the winner would debut at number one, and that yet another version of the same ballad sung by the runner-up would debut somewhere further down the chart. Last year, however, Idol cut a deal with iTunes that resulted in numerous performances, by the winner and the losers, being made available for a limited time immediately after the finale. Last year, this gave David Cook 11 Hot 100 debuts in one week. This year, with the competition a little closer, winner Kris Allen and runner-up Adam Lambert split the prize, with five debuts for Allen and four for Lambert, and not a single one landing in the top ten.

Rather than bore you and/or drive myself crazy writing separate reviews for each entry, I thought it best to handle them in a bunch, and then get on with the rest of this week’s debuts, of which there are eight, including two from another television/iTunes goldmine, Glee. I should also mention that I didn’t watch American Idol this season, and have heard nothing from these guys until now, so my perspective is fresh, or at least as fresh as someone with my jaundiced viewpoint of Idol to begin with can be.

Kris Allen:
No Boundaries #11
Heartless #16
Ain’t No Sunshine #37
Apologize #66
Falling Slowly #94

Adam Lambert:
Mad World #19
A Change Is Gonna Come #56
No Boundaries #72
One #82

First things first: Adam Lambert was robbed. Kris Allen is a decent singer, but he evinces precious little personality, and, like too many Idol singers, he often seems to be unsure what the songs he performs are about. Hence his version of “Ain’t No Sunshine”, which is OK until he gets to the repeated “I knows”. He treats them as something to be gotten over with, instead of what they are: the emotional center of the song. His one advantage (which also happens to be one of Lambert’s weaknesses), is that he doesn’t oversing. This makes his performances of “Falling Slowly” and “Heartless” more than bearable, even with their weak arrangements. It’s also worth pointing out that though Allen’s version of Heartless is nowhere near as good as the original, it’s miles better than The Fray’s, and proves conclusively that it’s a great song. The idea of it becoming a standard seems far fetched to me, though—the lyrics are too idiosyncratic, tuned to West’s oversized ego and personality. Allen sounds a little silly singing them.

As for Lambert, he has the better voice, the sharper sensibility, and more of that rock and roll attitude. Which means he oversings, overplays his hand at times, picks more pretentious material, and depends too much on his personality to get his songs over. But he can sing, and does a far better job with the awful “No Boundaries” than Allen does. His biggest weakness is a tendency to mistake slurring his words together for being soulful, as if every line were just another opportunity to lay on some melisma. This doesn’t ruin his version of “A Change Is Gonna Come”, but it makes the song mean less than it might, even with the amazing falsetto he puts on at the end.

In defense of both, the Idol producers, as usual, have come up with some of the most deathless arrangements in history (though the Sade-like backing on “Heartless” is nice). Simon Cowell is always accusing singers of sounding Karaoke. Has he listened to the band lately?

Glee Cast—Don’t Stop Believin’
#4

The first forty seconds or so, where Journey meets Steve Reich in a high school choir room, are brilliant. Once the band enters, though, it becomes just another damn cover of that same damn Journey song. Here’s hoping that once the series—I haven’t seen it, but it sounds like High School Musical for fans of Election—goes into regular rotation, the producers will pay more attention to the first forty seconds here than the remaining three minutes. Bad songs brilliantly arranged; that would be a first for television, wouldn’t it?

Linkin Park—New Divide
#6

Oddly enough, Linkin Park’s apocalyptic metaphors and musical bombast make more sense when they’re singing about broken relationships than they do when they’re singing about actual apocalypse. They’re a perfect match for a certain brand of teenage emotional self-seriousness, and I suppose they deserve respect for so effectively pushing those buttons. But facts are facts: these guys haven’t been teenagers for over a decade, their music is boring, and, as in most apocalyptic scenarios, there are some buttons that should never be pushed.

David Cook—Permanent
#24

I have no idea what this song is supposed to be about, and neither does Cook. At least there’s nothing about his singing that suggests he does. Don’t blame him for that, though. Considering the quality of the song, I’ll bet he doesn’t want to know.

Rob Thomas—Her Diamonds
#42

This record revolves around an interesting concept: a guy watching his girl cry and having no idea what to do to help her. Except the focus is all on how that makes Thomas feel, the music bears no relation to the lyrics, and when Thomas sings that everything will be fine if she finds some delight you can’t help but assume he thinks he’s the one to provide it. Then the female background vocals come in, and you realize why the girl is crying: she’s just discovered that the guy she’s living with is actually Carly Simon.

Charice—Note To God
#44

This fifteen year-old definitely has a voice—for sheer volume her final note has to be heard to be believed. But if I wrote a note to God, it would consist of a single, simple message: Make it stop, make it stop, make it stop.

Black Eyed Peas—Imma Be
#50

Maura over at Idolator has predicted that this will be the jam of the summer, but I have my doubts. More likely it will be the point where all the fans who have been enjoying the ride since Elephunk jump off the bus. “Boom Boom Pow” could be thought of as a novelty record, with club shout-outs that anyone could yell along to, but this represents a deeper step into the digital minimalism wilderness, and as amazing as some of it sounds, I have a feeling a lot of people won’t care to follow along (I barely care to follow along myself). This didn’t get the radio build up “Boom Boom Pow” did, so its relatively low debut may not mean much, but if the whole album sounds like this, the Peas may discover they’ve invested a little too much faith in the willingness of their fans to follow them anywhere.

Eminem—Insane
#85

I’m assuming this made it onto the charts on sales, because I can guarantee you no radio station in the country would dare play it. It’s as if Eminem had found a way to set Naked Lunch to music, only without the relative comfort of knowing it’s an opium-induced fantasy. The only reassuring thing about this record is the emotional distance the music maintains. It’s the only song from Relapse I’ve heard where the lightness of the beats makes sense—set these lyrics to music that matched and it would be almost impossible to listen to. I just wish I could be assured that it’s selling for its quality, and not just as a novelty.

Glee Cast—Rehab
#98

If the opening of their cover of “Don’t Stop Believin’” demonstrates what can be done right by a vocal group, even with a bad song, this demonstrates everything that can be done wrong with a great one. The musical style may be different, but in approach this is barely a half step away from the lamest folk groups of the early sixties or Sing Along With Mitch. I know this is partly intended as satire, but I’m not sure that’s how most of the audience is taking it, and I fear endless follow-ups. And if, as some believe, Amy Winehouse is already minstrelsy, what the hell is this?

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.

New This Week

Saturday, May 16th, 2009

Daughtry–”No Surprise”
#15

Warning to hipsters: the psychedelic vocal effects that open and close this otherwise boring record do not mean that Chris Daughtry has been listening to Animal Collective and Grizzly Bear. It means that, like all backward looking, self-serious rockers, Daughtry thinks adding psychedelic Beatlesish touches to his records is a sign of artistic maturity and musical growth. I wish I could be sure Animal Collective and Grizzly Bear don’t think the same way.

Eminem featuring Dr. Dre–”Old Time’s Sake”
#25

Depressing fact: Remember that sketch on The Marshall Mathers LP where Eminem’s manager advises him to stop talking about homosexuals and vicodin and rap about blunts and bitches like everybody else? This is where Eminem heeds that advice. More depressing fact: Eminem’s rhymes are more complicated and technically accomplished than ever, but he has absolutely nothing to say. Most depressing fact of all: This is easily the best track from Relapse so far. (Extra special bonus depressing fact: Just for old time’s sake, Dre calls people he doesn’t like faggots.)

Sean Kingston–”Fire Burning”
#29

What does it mean that every time I’ve worked on this list I’ve completely forgotten this record existed? Yeah, that’s what I thought it meant.

Paula Abdul–”I’m Just Here for the Music”
#87

Better than you might expect, if nothing special, but listening to this record is like stepping into a time warp. Abdul, who is 46 and hasn’t had a solo hit since 1995, sings this like she’s the latest bouncy Disney star, with occasional Britney touches. Since a lot of Disney pop is based on late 80s and early 90s dance music, she’s essentially aping, or more likely trying to reclaim, a style that she helped to invent. After 8 years of staring dumbfounded (or worse) at wannabes, who can blame her? It’s lonely there at the judges’ table, isn’t it Paula?

Drake–”Best I Ever Had”
#92

Ultimately forgettable, but check out the phrasing and the rhyme scheme: Kanye’s takeover of rap is almost complete.

Young Money–”Every Girl”
#96

Here’s a rarity, a rap record with Lil Wayne where he isn’t the best thing on it. The full title, of course, is “I Want to Fuck Every Girl in the World”, and Wayne and the Young Money crew not only tell us how they want to do that, but provide an ever-expanding list. Forward thinking and honorable guys, they’re willing to wait three years for Miley Cyrus. They’re open minded, too; listen closely to the fade and you’ll notice that the list includes “midgets” and “retards”. Note to Eminem: If you’re going to be offensive, you need to be funny, remember?

Fast Life Yungstaz–”Swag Surfin’”
#99

Don’t care for Soulja Boy? How would you feel about a cobbled together trio who rap over pseudo Soulja Boy beats about underage drinking and shopping? That’s what I thought. The only thing I want to know is if Polo payed for their studio time.

Update: My bad: Young Money is a crew, not a person. Duh. Now corrected.