Posts Tagged ‘Ray J’

New this week—6/27/10

Sunday, July 4th, 2010

Drake
“Up All Night” featuring Nicki Minaj, #49
“9 AM In Dallas”, #57
“Fireworks” featuring Alicia Keys, #71
“Fancy” featuring T.I. & Swiss Beatz, #99

Approached in bulk, Drake’s tracks achieve a definite if subliminal groove that is, at first, both attractive and of a certain clinical interest. The same can be said of his raps, which are straightforward and plainspoken. But if you’re going to be this plainspoken you’d better make sure you have something to say and have some poetry hidden in there somewhere. Drake has neither, and after a few plays his minimal grooves become boring. When Drake says he wants to be a real artist, I believe him, but I believe him even more when he expresses doubts about his talent. His honesty may get him somewhere eventually, but it hasn’t yet.

Disturbed—”Another Way To Die”
#81

Environmental metal: it’s not quite an oxymoron, but it sure doesn’t make much sense.

3Oh!3—”Double Vision”
#89

When you limit your musical palette as much as these guys do—they don’t write new melodies or rhythms for each record, they just switch rhyme schemes—the smallest change or addition can come as a surprise. Here, they add a few pleasant harmonies and suddenly sound almost as upbeat and friendly as The Beach Boys. They should be careful, though: too many cracks in their obnoxious facade and they’ll start to get boring.

Soulja Boy Tell’em—”Pretty Boy Swag”
#90

Not so much a change in style as a change in speed, and a smart move. The slow, deliberate, teasing pace makes Soulja Boy sound more mature without diminishing the feeling that’s he’s still just a teenager having a great time with something he loves. That’s almost enough to make him important, even if all he raps about is how cool he is.

Bobby Brackins featuring Ray J—”143″
#91

Ray J seems to make his living now attaching himself to young rappers, where he applies his seductive crooning, reminds everybody of his biggest hit, and smooths out any rough spots that would make these records interesting. Though I’m not sure Brackins would be interesting even without him.

The Dirty Heads featuring Rome—”Lay Me Down”
#93

Unbelievable. A Jack Johnsonish acoustic reggae ballad with a plot that is basically a rehash of The Getaway—the movie version, that is, where the beautiful young couple get away with robbery and murder to spend the rest of their lives having sex on the beach, as opposed to Jim Thompson’s original novel, which had an ending so depressing, ironic, and horrifying that even Sam Peckinpah didn’t have the nerve to serve it up on screen. You should read it, if only to understand me when I wish The Dirty Heads a less final but somewhat similar fate.

Jaheim—”Finding My Way Back”
#93

If this was 1973, this would probably be a big regional R&B hit in Baltimore or Chicago, like The Whatnauts or some of the lesser Chi-Lites singles. It’s 2010, though, and what would have been second-tier in the ’70s is just an oddity now. If Jaheim is going to mine the past, he should go all the way, like Raphael Saadiq. Or he should at least get better songs.

Rodney Atkins—”Farmer’s Daughter”
#96

Notable only for the way Atkins sings, especially the first verse. His backwoods accent is so heavily played and calculated—not a single drawl out of place—that it becomes a kind of minstrelsy; good ol’ boy whiteface, if you will.

Craig Morgan—”This Ain’t Nothin’”,
#97

You need to walk a pretty fine line to pull off country sentimentality. Do it right, the way Miranda Lambert does on “The House That Built Me” and you can produce a powerful record despite the required cliches and homilies. One bad line, though, can tip you over into bathetic camp. This song has three or four bad lines, one of them in the chorus, so it gets repeated over and over again, and another in the second verse that wouldn’t be out of place in a South Park parody.

Blake Shelton—”All About Tonight”
#98

There are two things I find interesting about Blake Shelton. One is his release schedule, where he’s experimenting with putting out half an album every few months (this is the lead single from his second “six-pack”); and the other is that he’s engaged to Miranda Lambert, who outclasses him in every way I can think of. His music doesn’t interest me at all.

New this week

Wednesday, October 28th, 2009

John Mayer—”Who Says”
#17

I’ve always thought of Mayer as a likeable but pretentious boob, a well-meaning, highly skilled guy who let his good taste and sense of importance get in the way of his talent. Here, however, he leans back, lights up, channels the Paul Simon of Paul Simon—even stealing a bit of melody from the master—and makes his simple case for legalization without once overplaying his hand or being anything but charming. Even his caddishness is charming, something he’s never managed—at least with me—before. If he wasn’t such a goof he’d be dangerous.

Chamillionaire—”Good Morning”
#40

Why do rappers think people hate them for being successful? Nobody cares if you’re successful, what they care about is whether or not success is going to turn you into the sort of guy who takes over two years to produce a record that turns out to be a lazy, self-satisfied knock at the people who you think are hating on you, when in reality they’ve barely noted your existence. The only smart thing about this record is that, by using the Tom Petty sample, Chamillionaire doesn’t need to worry about Weird Al turning this into a lame parody of Southern California excess—he’s already beaten him to it.

Glee Cast
“Keep Holding On”, #56
“No Air”, 65

This joke gets thinner every week. Bad songs badly sung.

Wonder Girls—”Nobody”
#76

I like the girl group feel of this, especially the high harmonies after the chorus, but it isn’t much of a song, and there’s not much to wonder at in the voices, either. The rap at the end is a terrible mistake; it sounds like it was pasted in from an entirely different song.

Carrie Underwood—”Mama’s Song”
#77

The only thing interesting about this country hokum is how little country there is in it, and how much r&b influence is floating around, especially in the strings, which echo Gene Page’s arrangements, and the background vocals. Underwood even tries to sound soulful once in a while, in an American Idolish sort of way.

Five For Fighting—Chances”
#83

Ah, those sincere young American males—can’t somebody make them shut up?

30 Seconds To Mars—”Kings and Queens”
#88

“The age of man is over”, they bellow, and they may be right (though I doubt it). Overwrought U2 imitators, however, go on forever.

Usher—”Papers”
#92

Far better than anything off his previous album, which suggests that Usher needs a little drama in his life to make decent records. Still not as good as the best stuff from Confessions, though, and all the drama in the world will probably never get great music out of him again.

New Boyz featuring Ray J—”Tie Me Down”
#97

The lyrics are jerky enough (saying you can’t be tied down because you’re only seventeen is funny, perfectly legitimate, and caddish all at the same time), but the music is generic and dull, and sounds more like a lame attempt to be Lil Wayne than anything new. The album is almost the definition of hit plus filler, but there’s far better stuff on it than this, which is some corporate stooge’s idea of the kind of music that will make them stars. Think about what happened to Lil Mama, New Boyz, and beware.

Miranda Lambert—”White Liar”
#98

Like all the best tracks on Revolution (and there are a lot of them), this is disarmingly simple on the surface, but packed with subtleties and with a depth that takes time to appreciate. Lambert no longer burns her cheating lover’s houses down or goes after them with a shotgun (though she does shoot one on the album). Instead she turns the tables on him and gets her revenge in a more practical and insidious way, by implying that she’s been cheating on him as well. The question is whether she’s telling him the truth now, or just getting back at him by making him think she’s cheating, and Lambert and her band leave the question drifting on the air, turning ambiguity and doubt into their own form of sweet revenge.

Kings of Leon—”Notions”
#99

Since I can only understand two or three words in the lyric, and the music does nothing to encourage me to look them up, I have no idea what notions are considered, or implied, or perhaps even acted on in this song. The music, though catchy in parts, is as slurred, mushy, and indistinct as the singing, which suggests that the Followill brothers not only don’t have much to say, but don’t understand what they do. Unfortunately, that’s probably a large part of their appeal.