Posts Tagged ‘Nelly’

The Sincerest Form of Flattery: Hot 100 Roundup—4/20/13

Tuesday, April 23rd, 2013

A surprisingly good week, even if the best of the tracks are imitations of their betters. It’s interesting that many of those being imitated are relatively new artists: The Black Keys, Miguel, and (next week, via Hunter Hayes and We the Kings) Mumford and Sons and fun. A year or so ago, no one would have thought of any of those people as influential in any meaningful way, but now they’re working a sea change on pop radio, one that may be even more profound than EDM. I’m not saying it’s an improvement, but then pop rarely improves, it just sounds different.

Florida Georgia Line featuring Nelly—“Cruise (Remix)”
#8

Technically a chart re-entry, but since it’s more a remake than a remix, I thought I’d review it anyway. It’s terrible. Nelly would record with Alvin and the Chipmunks if he thought it would get him back on the charts, and this adds nothing while losing all the rough and ready charm of the original. The chorus still works, but that’s about it. Low moment: the southern white boys greet their guest with “What up, Nelly?” At least they didn’t say “Whoa”.

Chris Brown—“Fine China”
#52

Even when his records are good (and this is one of his best), Brown’s past continues to haunt him, and it doesn’t help that he keeps reminding people of it. I don’t think he does this intentionally, but he seems oblivious to what the words of his songs mean. The title “Fine China” immediately calls up images of Brown as the bull in the shop, and when he assures his lover that he’s not dangerous all you can do is cringe. Musically, though, this is just about perfect, with it’s mix of a Stevie Wonder-ish distorted bass line, Michael Jackson-style hiccups, and a striking, if overzealous, string arrangement. The arrangement is too busy, but that bassline makes up for a lot. Brown has obviously been paying attention to Miguel, and decorates his slightly subdued vocals with slurs and falsettos, though not always in the right places. His falsetto isn’t as pure as Miguel’s, either, and his lyrical ideas (or the ones he buys, anyway), are as empty as always, even when they’re not cringe-worthy.

Jonas Brothers—“Pom Poms”
#60

This is fluff, but I like it, which is more than I can say of any previous Jonas record. Their inability to maintain a career at Disney, though probably not their fault (Disney is much better at grooming female pop stars), is a kind of merit badge: they went through the pop sausage machine and came out whole, and maybe better than when they started. In a show of business savvy, they even bought back their masters (can we look forward to de-Disneyfied remixes? hope not). It’s odd to find them falling under the influence of The Black Keys, but that influence not only inspired them to write (or steal) a wicked bassline, but to clean up and focus their sound. And unlike the Black Keys, the Jonases have a sense of humor. “Pom Poms” is sheer nonsense, but nonsense has always made good pop, and this is a giant step in the right direction.

Nicki Minaj featuring Lil Wayne—“High School”
#83

This is not only Minaj’s best single since “Stupid Hoe”—and a lot more thought-provoking—but she even got a rap out of Lil Wayne that follows a single train of thought for more than two bars (is she the only rapper in the world he feels challenged by, or is she the only person who can whip him into shape?). “High School” may be about nothing more than sex and dope, but it’s also about Minaj being in total control of the sex and dope (or, more specifically, taking over her lover’s drug business when he gets arrested), which means a lot. It also tells a story, which I haven’t heard any rap song on the pop charts do in a long time. The music is good, too, beautiful but vaguely sinister. This may be a step that will eventually take Minaj off the pop charts, but it’s still the right direction.

Little Mix—“Wings”
#98

This thoroughly enjoyable piece of imitative craftsmanship provides the answer to one of the great mathematical questions of the age: how many people of average talent does it take to almost equal one Beyonce? Answer: four singers, one three-man production team, and fourteen songwriters. And she makes it seem so easy.

Sports Cars and Jesus: Hot 100 Roundup—3/9/13

Friday, March 8th, 2013

Nelly—“Hey Porsche”
#42

This is hilarious. Nelly has always experimented with mixing different genres into his-hop, but over the last few years, as his pop success has faded, he’s started to sound desperate. On “Hey Porsche” he dredges up the old idea of comparing a car to a woman (or vice-versa) mixes in some touches of EDM, tosses a “nigga” or two into the lyric to maintain his cred, and, most inexplicably, copies the riff from “We Are Never Ever Getting Back Together”. And after all that effort, what does he end up with? A hip-hop version of Train. Maybe he should try something else.

AfroJack featuring Chris Brown—“As Your Friend”
#88

Though it rarely gets mentioned, for obvious reasons, Chris Brown has done as much, if not more, to bring EDM into hip-hop as anybody. Whatever his other flaws, musical or personal, he knows how to pick beats. His biggest problem is that he often doesn’t know what to do with them, penning cliche lyrics around banal, or non-existent, melody lines. On “As Your Friend”, though there still isn’t much of a tune, the lyrics are better, and Brown intentionally plays down as low as he can. He also manages to avoids the defiant self-pity that makes him so easy to hate. He sounds resigned, almost repentant, which is a big change for him. As for the beat, it’s pop on the insane, dubstep side of the EDM spectrum, and far better than anything David Guetta or Calvin Harris have come up with recently. “As Your Friend” isn’t great, by any means, but it’s a step in the right direction.

Emeli Sande—“Next To Me”
#89

Those overpowering drums owe an obvious debt to Adele, but Sande takes them back to their source, the driving martial rhythms of gospel (you didn’t think “Next To Me” was about a lover, did you?). Also like Adele, Sande has the ability to get loud without ever sounding shrill or losing her emotional connection to the song; she can go places other singers wouldn’t dare. I have some doubts about the lyrics, especially the paraphrase of Kipling at the end, but a record this powerful almost defies criticism.

Eric Church—“Like Jesus Does”
#99

Church is so good at what he does that he almost pulls this off. Though I appreciate his refusal to turn this into a power-ballad, which is what 90% of country singers would have done, it gets stolid by the end, and the lack of rhythmic and melodic variety becomes wearing. His metaphors don’t always gel, either. Is a Waylon Jennings song more sinful if it’s on vinyl as opposed to CD or MP3? How would that work, exactly? Church must think it means something, because he repeats it at the end, but all I get from it is that it’s a way of establishing his country traditionalist bona fides without dragging his truck into the song. This is a good thing, but it doesn’t quite work.

Future featuring Lil Wayne—“Karate Chop (Remix)”
#100

It’s a feeling that’s been coming over me for the last couple of months, and now it’s taken an unshakable hold, no matter how I try to ignore it: I dread the idea of listening to Lil Wayne. He has become the worst part of almost every record he appears on (including his own). Here, after being provided a near-perfect lead-in by Future, he half-assedly replicates the flow Future has established, then tosses it aside like something that’s beneath him and proceeds to delivers a few bars of rote misogyny before giving up completely. He’s more than the worst thing on “Karate Chop”; he pretty much ruins it. To compound my despair, last week Kanye West called a radio station to announce that, whatever MTV may say, Wayne is the greatest MC in the game. Which only makes me fear that the two most dominant rappers of the last decade have both lost their minds.

Hot 100 Roundup–1/14/12

Wednesday, January 25th, 2012

Nelly—“The Champ”
#64

Written to order for ESPN, and it sounds like it, though it’s not that bad. Nelly is an expert at mixing genres (he did feature Tim McGraw on a record once, after all), and this has a pleasant pop lilt with slight indie touches over the hip-hop rhythms and synth squiggles. It’s soft for a football song, but then its intent is more uplift than fist pumping. And the joke about waving to his mom on TV is perfect.

B.o.B. featuring Andre 3000—“Play the Guitar”
#98

More decent rapping from B.o.B., but the real stars here are Andre 3000 and Bo Diddley. Diddley, of course, provides the beat (and snags two songwriting credits in the process, one as Bo Diddley, the other under his real name, Elias McDaniel—did he think that would make him twice as much in royalties?). Andre, meanwhile, delivers a rap that starts on top of a Church’s Chicken, swings over to Europe, encourages kids to take up an instrument and eat their vegetables, and ends with him strumming in a practice room, defending his musical approach (“Do you cry in tune, nigger?”). Not a great record overall, but Andre’s rap is a keeper. Where’s that Outkast record?

Listen on Spotify

Bubbling Under—3/19/11

Thursday, March 17th, 2011

Keith Urban—”Without You”
#107

It’s gotta be his looks, right? That and the oh so sincere little cracks in his voice. Granted, his songs and arrangements aren’t as tastelessly bombastic as say, Rascal Flatts, but his music is just as empty.

Marsha Ambrosius—”Far Away”
#112

Everybody was getting tired of the old Alicia Keys, so here’s a new one. Remember, Keys’ first album wasn’t that bad, either.

Nelly featuring Kelly Rowland—”Gone”
#113

I don’t think much of “Just a Dream”, but at least it feels like something new. This is just a mediocre love duet.

Waka Flocka Flame featuring Kebo Gotti—”Grove St. Party”
#114

I’m so tired of hearing people yelling “Yeeeeeeeaaaaaaaah!” in the background of rap records that I’m probably harder on this than it deserves. Waka Flocka Flame isn’t a terrible rapper—his voice has an amazing tone, remiscent of Young Jeezy only not as rough, and his sense of flow keeps his stuff rhythmically interesting even when he doesn’t have much to say. Gotti, however, sounds like every third rapper you’ve ever heard, and he rhymes “motherfucker” with “motherfucker”—not just once, but over and over again. Talk about not having anything to say.

Miranda Cosgrove—”Dancing Crazy”
#118

This is where Nickelodeon seizes the tween pop kingdom that Disney, at least for the moment, seems to have given up. There’s nothing daring or particularly striking about this record, but it’s perfectly put together and immensely entertaining. The second half of the chorus, where Cosgrove sarcastically jokes about being heard over the music, is brilliant. The only real flaw is Cosgrove’s voice, especially on the first verse. Surprisingly enough, she sounds too young for the material. Tweens like their heroes and heroines slightly older than they are; it gives them something to aim for. Maybe Ke$ha should take a crack at it.

Hot 100 Roundup—11/28/10

Friday, December 3rd, 2010

Glee Cast
“Forget You” (featuring Gwyneth Paltrow), #11
“Singing In the Rain/Umbrella” (featuring Gwyneth Paltrow), #18

Dr. Dre featuring Snoop Dogg and Akon—“Kush”
#49

When a guy spends over a decade making a record about how wonderful dope is, it’s impossible to miss the ironic disconnect. Which isn’t to suggest that Dre is unaware of that irony himself: this is bouncy, funny, and celebratory in all the right ways. As always, Snoop gets off the best lines (“tight as the pants on will.i.am”). Dre has tricks of his own, though, including one of the slyest musical jokes I’ve ever heard, where the piano figure at the end starts coming apart as if it were being played by a stoner searching the keys for notes he could swear he knew just a minute ago.

Rihanna—“S&M”
#53

Having said in interviews that she’s tired of people paying attention only to the dark side of her music, Rihanna opens her new album with a chorus that includes the borrowed joke “Stick and stones may break my bones/But chains and whips excite me”. Mind you, S&M isn’t as dark or taboo as it used to be (though shouldn’t she at least have given us her safe word?), but considering Rihanna’s very public past in regard to sexual relationships, it seems an odd choice at best, a blatant cashing in at worst. This isn’t a bad record, but I find myself hesitant to learn anything else about Rihanna’s sex life, real or imagined. At the same time I keep flashing on Amy Rigby’s song “Year of the Fling”, about a woman who suddenly finds herself enmeshed in the BDSM scene: “At the peak of her binge/A twinge of fear came to unnerve her/But she mastered that/And it served to pervert her further”. What Rihanna went through was horrible and no doubt traumatic, but did surviving it really make her any stronger?

Nelly and Keri Hilson—“Liv Tonight”
#75

I don’t know if it’s this record in particular, or just their overwhelming presence on the charts these days, but I’m beginning to feel as tired of kick drums as I am of electric guitars, if only because they trap artists in a remorseless groove when they might be better off with more rhythmic freedom. That’s certainly true of Hilson, though I have my doubts about Nelly.

Michael Jackson & Akon—“Hold My Hand”
#84

I can understand why people wondered about the vocals on Jackson’s posthumous recordings: he does sound different, though it’s largely because he’s singing in a lower key—his voice was aging, and except for brief exclamations he couldn’t hit those high notes the way he used to. The phrasing, however, is undeniably Jackson, even if it is just an echo of his glory days. What’s more disappointing is his general lack of presence; most likely he hadn’t finished this when he died, but there’s still too much Akon and not enough MJ. What’s more fascinating, and a little creepy, is the homoerotic subtext that runs though the song. I mean, who are these guys singing to? Some unidentified woman? The world in general? Each other? The record is credited as a duet, after all. Who knows? That’s MJ for you—even posthumously, he’s the weirdest guy in the room.

Train—“Marry Me”
#95

Reviewed in Bubbling Under, 11/21/10

Ke$ha—“Blow”
#97

The problem with Ke$ha’s records isn’t that they’re loud and dumb, it’s that she isn’t prepared to go all the way with the concept. When she says that she and her friends are young and bored, it’s a distancing effect that she probably thinks gives the song some sort of satirical meaning and depth. All it does, though, is cement her image as a privileged “artiste” who’s slumming all the way to the bank.

Flo Rida—“Turn Around (5,4,3,2,1)”
#98

Despite the evidence of his previous records, Flo Rida does not live and die by the hook; he lives and dies by propulsive forward motion, so much so that this time he seems to have lost the hook somewhere back on the track. Maybe he should ask Bruno Mars for another one; he’s bound to have a few lying around.

Bubbling Under:

Keri Hilson—“Pretty Girl Rock”
#102

Hilson is an interesting case. Her guest spots can seem anonymous (as in “Liv Tonight”), but her own records are defiantly idiosyncratic, always coming out of somewhere that seems familiar but with a twist that makes them difficult to trace. This one appears to borrow ideas from relatively obscure female artists like Santigold, Lil Jackie, and VV Brown, and at times almost sounds like a tribute record. At the same time it never sounds like anyone but Hilson. At least it would if I could be sure of exactly what Hilson sounds like. I’m still not sure she’s a major talent, but she’s certainly an intriguing one.

Billy Currington—“Let Me Down Easy”
#103

Currington doesn’t have an original bone in his body or thought in his head, but that doesn’t mean he can’t sound classier or more sophisticated than his country-heartthrob competition. He seems like a genuinely nice, laid-back sort of guy. In other words, he’s an old-school country careerist, and if sometimes he’s a little boring, well, that just comes with the territory.

Hot 100 Roundup—10/24/10

Friday, October 29th, 2010

Taylor Swift—”Back To December”
#6

The problem with most pop and country ballads isn’t that they’re slow and lugubrious (though they often are), but that they’re so damned predictable. You can see every turn in the melody and lyric (if there are any turns, which is another problem) coming before you’ve even gotten through the solemn piano intro. Not this one. Almost effortlessly, Swift generates the drama a good ballad is supposed to contain. She can pack more words into a line without sounding like she’s overdoing it than anyone in the business, and the melody, which bounces up and down like a heartbeat on the chorus, goes places no other country balladeer would ever consider. She constantly comes up with lyrical details that sound lived in rather than looked up, and unlike most of Swift’s previous records, the ending is ambiguous and avoids another fairy tale conclusion. Though how any man with sense could say no to her is beyond me.

Glee Cast
“Lucky”, #27
“River Deep, Mountain High”, #41
“Happy Days Are Here Again/Get Happy”, #48
“Don’t Go Breaking My Heart”, #50
“Sing!”, #87
“Le Jazz Hot”, #94

Nelly featuring T-Pain and Akon—”Move That Body”
#54

Since Nelly has already made his comeback I can’t call this “three attempted comebacks on a single record”, but that sure is what it sounds like. Nelly is all right, and Akon is Akon, but T-Pain has never sounded duller, auto-tuning the only thing that makes him identifiable. Live by the plug-in, die by the plug-in.

Sugarland—”Little Miss”
#80

Sugarland suffers from what I’ve always thought of as Jackson Browne Syndrome. Crafty, catchy, and intelligent as they obviously are, too often their music seems totally detached from their lyrics, and on a song like this, when the lyrics aren’t clear, it’s virtually impossible to discover what the damn thing is about. Feelings, I guess, nothing more than feelings.

Darius Rucker—”This”
#83

Another ordinary celebration of the ordinary from the king of same. Though it’s possible to admire his consistency, if it isn’t a rut it sure ain’t a groove.

Trace Adkins—This Ain’t No Love Song”
#100

Reviewed in Bubbling Under, 10/17/10

Bubbling Under:

T-Pain featuring Rick Ross—”Rap Song”
#103

It’s probably unfair to compare T-Pain to The-Dream—The-Dream is a kind of genius, whereas T-Pain is a guy who had one brilliantly inspired idea and whose inspiration is fading fast—but if I’m going to listen to a song about making love to other people’s music, I’ll stick to “Kelly’s 12 Play”. Aside from a clever, if somewhat aged, Kanye joke, and the tasteless suggestion of having sex to Straight Outta Compton, this contains nothing to distinguish it from a lot of other auto-tuned slow jams. And has Rick Ross ever sounded more out of place than he does here? Did they just lift his rap from another record and stick it in?

Lloyd—”Lay It Down”
#105

Lloyd’s made some strong records over the last couple of years, but unlike Trey Songz, who was in a similar position until he finally broke a few months ago, Lloyd hasn’t been as lucky on the charts. And now it sounds as if he’s getting desperate, because this song is seriously insane. Vocally it’s all over the place, crooning here, yelping there, auto-tuned and stretched like a rubber band in the chorus, and ending, God help us all, with yodeling. He sounds like he’s having a great time, but the rest of us are left scratching our heads. It gets your attention, but where exactly is this all supposed to end? And will anybody else be around when it does?

My Chemical Romance—”Only Hope For Me Is You”
#106

This is strong and catchy, but it goes on too long and gets dangerously close to Linkin Park territory. There’s such a thing as coming on too strong. Trust your sense of humor, guys, it hasn’t failed you yet.

The Black Keys—”Tighten Up”
#110

Danger Mouse’s production makes this more than just a late-’60s funk/rock homage, but not much more, and the vocals and lyrics take you right back to Grand Funk Railroad territory. And if there’s any band who’s reputation doesn’t need a positive reassessment, it’s Grand Funk Railroad. Queen was bad enough.

Big Time Rush—”Til I Forget About You”
#111

Catchier and more mature than their first single, but still nothing to get excited about, even if you’re thirteen. In fact, they may have matured just enough to put themselves into demographic limbo.

Hannah Montana featuring Iyaz—”Gonna Get This”
#112

Despite the credit to Hannah Montana rather than Miley Cyrus, this is not Disney pop. Disney pop doesn’t exist anymore. Partly this is because Disney pop has become more mature and up-to-date, but largely it’s because pop music itself has taken a giant step in the direction of Disney. There’s now no noticeable difference between the two. No doubt this was Disney’s plan all along, though it does make you wonder how they’ll distinguish any stars they try to create in the future from the mass. As for this record, it’s pretty good, nearly as good as anything Miley Cyrus has put out under her own name, though not as good as the best stuff she did as Hannah Montana. Since there’s no real difference between the two anymore, I suppose it’s as good a time as any to end it.

Hot 100 Roundup—8/29/10

Monday, August 30th, 2010

Administrative note: For the sake of clarity, I decided to change the name of this column so people dropping in from Venus will know what they’re getting from the start. Part of the reason is purely mercenary; I figure it will make more sense in search engines (to paraphrase Liz Phair: I want to be read, dammit!). Also, Maura Johnston referred to this as a roundup in a tweet last week, and I liked the sound of it. Thanks, Maura. This will continue to be tagged as “New this week”, for those people who search around here by the tags. I’m also considering an archive page like the one I did for my top ten reviews. That’s for the future, though. As far as this week is concerned…

Lil Wayne featuring Drake—”Right Above It”
#6

I’m sure they thought they had a good idea when they started this track. Whatever it was, they lost it. Or maybe they were wrong to begin with.

Nelly—”Just a Dream”
#12

After nearly disappearing for half a decade, Nelly comes back with a record that pretty much takes up where he left off (this is the guy who recorded with Tim McGraw, remember?). His mix of R&B and rock seems a lot better thought out than Lil Wayne’s, and comes closer to a true synthesis than just about anybody, but that doesn’t mean you haven’t heard it before, or that Nelly has anything interesting to say. Not bad, but nothing special.

Katy Perry—”E.T.”
#42

When you consider that Perry’s fiancee is Russell Brand, who looks as much like an alien as anybody I can think of, this comes across as a good, affectionate joke. If you don’t know that, though, it’s just a mess. What’s interesting is that it holds up much better on the album, where Perry’s vocal affectations actually seem subdued in contrast to what surrounds it, than it does as a single. It also fits in perfectly with the other LP cuts that are about coming to terms with the split between her upbringing and the world she finds herself in now. She only plays dumb, you know.

Rascal Flatts—”Why Wait”
#48

I could make a comment about the continual mellowing and softening of country over the last couple of years, but these guys have been doing it for a decade now. While others of their generation followed The Eagles and Lynard Skynard, Rascal Flatts has stayed strictly pop, so when they want to up the tempo and look for a model in the ’70s they imitate Loggins and Messina. Loggins and fucking Messina.

Maroon 5—”Give A Little More”
#86

I appreciate their tempo and their brevity—this clocks in at exactly three minutes—but they sound mechanical, and they don’t seem able to write a song that has any ebb and flow to it. Their endless funk riffing, however well they do it, is crowded and claustrophobic. They also don’t seem to have a single interesting lyrical idea. I give them points for trying, but this just doesn’t cut it.

Soundgarden—”Black Rain”
#96

If you’re coming back after 12 years of dicking around and cashing in on your past, do you really want to do it with a song that sounds like all your previous records squeezed into one huge cliche? Not that they ever had more than one great album in them, anyway.