Posts Tagged ‘Trey Songz’

Hot 100 Roundup—9/26/10

Wednesday, September 29th, 2010

Kings of Leon—Radioactive
#37

The music takes off from the title, the guitars and percussion echoing the sound of Geiger counters, but the lyrics seem to be about something else entirely, something vaguely spiritual. They’re so vague, in fact, that it’s impossible to tell what’s going on or what any of it means. All I can be sure of is that these guys really want to be Pearl Jam. So much so that I can’t help but wonder if this wasn’t inspired by Eddie Vedder’s version of “My City In Ruins”.

Trey Songz—“Can’t Be Friends”
#74

In which Trey regrets the fact that he’s irresistible to women and so good at sexing them up because he finds it impossible to be friends with a woman once he’s had her and can’t have her anymore. There are probably many women in the world who would be flattered by this self-serving horseshit. Until, that is, they realized it was just his way of talking them back into bed. Amazing what a throbbing, sympathetic string arrangement can do to hide your true intentions.

Keith Urban—“Put You In A Song”
#82

Though I’ve heard some evidence that Urban can be better, this time he sounds like a one-man Rascal Flatts. His throwaway exclamations at the ends of lines are particularly irritating. He sounds like he’s already working the crowd in Branson.

Yolanda Be Cool & Dcup—“We No Speak Americano”
#83

Cartoon music which may or may not have some political intent. Already a huge hit in Europe, where this sort of danceable pop candy has always been ridiculously popular. It gets old fast.

Miguel featuring J. Cole—“All I Want Is You”
#91

I like the trip-hop beats and the ethereal quality of the chorus, and until J. Cole steps up to the mike this is a good record. But Cole ruins it for me by indulging in one the stupidest trends in current hip-hop: self-annotated raps. As soon as he says “Trying to celebrate my independence day (Will Smith)” he loses me, and even the good lines about his girlfriend forcing him to apologize twice don’t quite make up for it. Something else we can blame on Kanye, I guess.

Reba —“Turn On Your Radio”
#94

Give her credit: Reba knows how to keep up with the times, and the vocal on this piece of feisty feminism wipes the floor with its inspiration, Carrie Underwood. What it lacks is Underwood’s brassy tastelessness (in country terms, that is), which implies not just youth but true anger. When Reba’s voice turns bitter she sounds like a long-time pro doing her best for the song, but you know she thinks it’s just a good joke and nothing else. Underwood’s lack of depth is part of what makes the basic emotions in her songs believable, but Reba’s too old to be that shallow.

Linkin Park—“Waiting For the End”
#96

Musical craftsmanship matters, and whether it’s the band’s or Rick Rubin’s, it makes this record more listenable than it deserves to be. “This is not what I had planned” from someone who is either dying or expecting to be killed may be one of the dumbest lines to hit the Hot 100 this year, especially the way Mike Shinoda sings it. All that money, all that time and effort and yes, talent, and they still hold the intellectual point of view of a thirteen year-old. Either that or they’re intentionally pandering to thirteen year-olds, which would almost be better.

Eric Church—“Smoke a Little Smoke”
#97

I’ve seen signs that Church doesn’t get much respect from country aficionados, but though the sound of his records is somewhat overblown (but then, in country, whose isn’t?) I like the throwaway quality of his lyrics and melodies, and his sense of proportion—at just over three minutes, compared to his earlier records this is almost an epic. He knows how to sneak ideas into a song, as well; it isn’t until the middle eight that you realize he’s blunting himself out because his girl dumped him. He’s also more blatant about dope than most country singers, at least the ones that get on the radio. There are even psychedelic echo effects. Good stuff.

Wiz Khalifa—“Black and Yellow”
#100

Good hook, but then you expect that from a Stargate produced track. The rapping isn’t bad, either, but it isn’t anything you haven’t heard before, and better.

New this week—8/22/10

Tuesday, August 24th, 2010

Trey Songz featuring Nicki Minaj—”Bottoms Up”
#22

I was really hoping this would be about ass, maybe with a Funkadelic sample, but it turns out it’s just another dumb song about drinking. Ugly, too, as it seems to present Songz as a wily man about town getting Nicki drunk so he can have his way with her. The only thing that saves it from that fate is the fact that Minaj plays about as unconvincing a drunk as I’ve ever heard. Which doesn’t keep her from being the best thing on the record, for what that’s worth.

Katy Perry—”Circle the Drain”
#58

She sounds like she means it, and in this case her vocal and musical affectations help provide enough distance to keep the record from becoming too overwrought. But it is overwrought, and it isn’t much of a song, and Tricky Stewart’s production, which tries to use hip-hop instrumentation to create a rock and roll effect, doesn’t work. Can’t help but wonder, though, if this is the same relationship she wrote about for Kelly Clarkson’s “I Do Not Hook Up”. Sounds like it went downhill fast.

Zac Brown Band featuring Alan Jackson—”As She’s Walking Away”
#77

When the song starts, Brown phrases like James Taylor, which is what he normally does. Once Alan Jackson steps in, though, suddenly Brown sounds like him. Whatever the reason for this change—homage, lack of his own ideas, blatant pandering—it’s the only interesting thing about this record.

Antoine Dodson & The Gregory Brothers featuring Kelly Dodson—”Bed Intruder Song”
#89

The story behind this record overwhelms the music, which is something of a shame. It isn’t great, but it is different from anything else you’ll hear on the chart, the eccentric (in every way) vocal line guaranteeing a certain fascination even when the record becomes repetitive. Charges of exploitation are understandable, but in this case seem misplaced. Not just because Dodson is getting an even split of the royalties, but because the Gregory Brothers have been so respectful. The record is funny in many ways, but not because the Gregory’s are treating Dodson and his family as a joke. A novelty to be sure, but hardly an exploitation. And if it gets Dodson’s family out of the projects, I’m all for it.

Far*East Movement featuring Cataracs and Dev—”Like a G6″
#92

Solid L.A. minimalist rap, somewhat reminiscent of (or at least noticeably influenced by) jerkin’, good beats, cliche lyrics.
What fascinates me, though, are the racial markers these Asian-Americans lay down. No self-respecting African-American rapper would be caught dead in a Pontiac, and these guys make a point of name-checking Cristal. Did they not get Jay-Z’s memo? Maybe they assumed it didn’t apply to them. Solidarity guys, we need solidarity.

Plain White T’s—”Rhythm of Love”
#96

There must be something wrong with me. I’ve hated everything else the T’s have done (including how they spell their name; it’s Ts, you guys), but I find this charming, even if intentionally lightweight. The secret, I think, is in the way they constantly change up the arrangement—lyrically the song doesn’t go anywhere, but it’s never boring, and when they bring in the background vocals, which remind me of Spanky and Our Gang, I find it irresistible. If they were as clever with words and melodies as they are with arrangements, they might really be something. Based on their past, though, I’m willing to bet this is the best they’ve got in them.

The Ready Set—”Love Like Woe”
#97

J.R. Rotem’s kiddie-pop productions usually have something to recommend them, but not this time. The music is bouncy and bland, the singer anonymous, and the play on words of the title doesn’t work because the music, which doesn’t sound woeful for even a second, never lets you in on the trick—until I looked more closely at the lyrics I assumed that someone involved was mixing up their homonyms. I’m still not sure that they weren’t. Then again, maybe this is intended as a foray into kiddie-pop emo. Or would that be redundant?

Mumford & Sons—”Little Lion Man”
#98

The idea of British folkies making the US pop charts is odd enough that it almost overshadows the song itself, which is pleasant but fairly standard English folk. Kind of reminds me of the Clancy Brothers, which is probably about as far back as most people’s memories of English folk go, even in England (and yes, I know the Clancy’s were Irish—same difference). You can tell it’s modern, though, which is probably why it’s been so successful. First, it’s bouncier and catchier than most real English folk music. Two, they say “fuck”. Three, the lyrics are so personal and obscure that only someone with intimate knowledge of the writer’s life would ever know what the song is actually about. So, folkies yes, but folk music? Uh-uh.

Usher featuring Jay Z—”Hot Tottie”
#100

Despite the presence, yet again, of a guest who outshines his host, this is the first Usher I’ve heard in the last two years that didn’t sound like he was trying to play catch up with pop culture. That may have more to do with Polow Da Don’s production than anything else, but Usher adds his own touches, as does Esther Dean. Jay-Z blows everybody away, of course, but that doesn’t matter, this is still Usher’s best record since mid-decade.

New this week—6/6/10

Sunday, June 13th, 2010

Lee DeWyze
“Beautiful Day”, #24
“Hallelujah”, #44h
“The Boxer”, #88

DeWyze won American Idol not because all the tweens voted for the cutest guy, but because the story he lived on the show was better than any backstory anyone else could have come up with. He started as an insecure dweeb and ended up a confident but still humble performer. He had to win; that’s the way these Cinderella stories are supposed to go. He has a decent voice, too, though none of the songs here demonstrate that very well. He obviously doesn’t care much for “Beautiful Day”, but he does seem to have some inkling as to what “Hallelujah” (in it’s third chart appearance this year) is about. “The Boxer”, however, is a disaster. You never mumble a Paul Simon lyric, no matter how bad it is.

Crystal Bowersox—”Up To the Mountain”
#57

Behind the dreads, behind the sunflower tattoo that covers her back and the stupid pushpin piercing under her lips, behind her mature but somehow innocent voice, Crystal Bowersox is one canny performer. I may be the only person in the world who thought her performance of this song on American Idol was terrible, obscuring the melody and losing the song in a maze of vocal flexing and filigree. But Bowersox knew what the Idol audience and judges wanted to hear, so she gave it to them. This studio recording is better, tamer and more to the point. Not as good as Kelly Clarkson’s version from a couple of years ago, but still worthwhile. And her voice is amazing.

Lee DeWyze and Crystal Bowersox—”Falling Slowly”
#66

I hate this song. I don’t care who sings it, or how badly or how well they sing it. I hate this song.

Glee Cast—”Beth”
#72

Shoved off the charts by American Idol this week (an improvement, if a small one), the best Glee can manage is a soppy Kiss cover. Singing bad songs badly does not make them funny, it only makes them worse. Though I don’t expect anyone involved in Glee will ever realize it. I also suspect that they’re not trying to be funny.

Will Young—”Leave Right Now”
#81

What can you say about a guy who in comparison makes James Blunt sound like a great artist? That he should follow his own advice?

Paramore—”The Only Exception”
#90

Over Paramore’s usual thrashing, Hayley Williams sounds intelligent and cool, a slightly wistful cynic standing tall in the midst of emotional confusion. Over an acoustic backdrop, however, she sounds like any other female singer/songwriter with well-crafted lyrics whose sentimental rage turns into a sentimental crush when the right guy walks into the room.

Cali Swag District—”Teach Me How To Dougie”
#91

Not a form of jerkin’, according to them (their jeans aren’t skinny, for one thing), but the impetus is the same: turning hip-hop and rap back into party music. The crosstown rivalry, I suspect, will only be good for both. This is fresh and fun, and its appeal appears to be cross-generational—Jermaine Dupri, of all people, has done a remix. They already talk like the four marketeers, and have started a twitter campaign to get Soulja Boy on another remix. In other words, grab them now, before they’re spoiled. There will be a lot of one-hit wonders in this genre over the next couple of years. This is a good one.

J. Cole—”Who Dat?”
#93

Given time I might come up with an answer, except that all I can ever remember about this song is the question.

Ludacris featuring Trey Songz—”Sex Room”
#98

Ludacris has rarely been as funny as this without cracking an obvious joke, and the groove guarantees that even the porn-movie cliches carry an erotic charge. The groove is so good, in fact, that it allows Trey Songz to hold our attention to the very end without his actually having to come up with a lyric, uttering nothing but a few suggestive phrases and the title. Which only makes it sexier, of course.

Rick Ross featuring Ne-Yo—”Super High”
#100

I lot of people will write this off as a Ghostface rip, but I say, isn’t it time? If Ghostface’s tracks weren’t about pimps, whores, and drug dealers killing each other, and so laced with obscenity that a censored version would be half silence, his blaxsploitation-based grooves would be all over the charts, and probably the radio. As Kanye West might put it, he knows how to cook that crack music. Ross knows nothing but how to brag, and the music lacks the dense intensity of Ghostface, but the groove is so undeniable it would be meaningless to complain. As for Ne-Yo, he contributes his best hook since “So You Can Cry”, and raises the track up yet another level. A great one.

New this week—3/7/10

Thursday, March 11th, 2010

Ludacris featuring Nicki Minaj—”My Chick Bad”
#46

Notable mainly for containing the first Tiger Woods joke to make the Hot 100. When Ludacris is doing his rapid fire spitting over something loud and boisterous, his tastelessness goes down fairly easy. When he slows himself down like this, his crudity—not just in his humor, but in his flow—shines through.

Taio Cruz featuring Ludacris—”Break Your Heart”
#53

Already a number one in the UK (and now in the US), and it’s easy to see why. The rough formula appears to be a mix of Akon and Chris Brown over a euro-techno beat, with the lilting tenor vocals that are so popular right now (i.e. B.O.B, Jay-Z-s “Forever Young”, anything by Drake). Ludacris adds nothing, but he doesn’t detract either. In commercial pop terms, it’s a classic. It’s sheer fluff (the music has nothing whatever to do with the lyrical message of the song), but it goes down easy, catchy enough to get your attention, short enough that you’ll want to hear it again once it does, and after a third listen it will be playing in your head forever. And when it does finally fade away, there’ll be something just like it to replace it with.

Kris Allen—”Let It Be”
#63

I suppose I could give Allen points for trying to make something new out of this warhorse, but removing the melody is not the way to go about it. I know everyone’s tired of hearing it, but there is something majestic, yet humble, about that tune, and without it the lyrics are close to meaningless. Not that anyone notices what “Let It Be” is about anymore, anyway. Why else would they use a song about peaceful resignation as a call to action?

Trey Songz—”Neighbors Know My Name”
#88

I tend to think of this as a follow-up to J. Holliday’s “Bed” or Jeremih’s “Birthday Sex”, but it’s more polished, and its humor is more intentional (I think) than those two. It’s also funnier—and sexier. If you never thought the day would come that you’d laugh at a soul singer crooning the word “headboard”, you were wrong.

Matisyahu—”One Day”
#90

Well-meaning pap, and limp well-meaning pap, at that. Produced by the same team who created B.O.B.’s “Nothin’ On You”, who turn on the bland this time around, and co-written by Akon, who’s trying to collect as many well-meaning karma points as he can before his next album comes out. But the real weakness is the singer, who has all the technical gifts and none of the force or spirit of the Jamaican dancehall singers he imitates so assiduously (Barrington Levy would eat this guy for breakfast). Though I hesitate to suggest it, this comes perilously close, in my mind, to minstrelsy.

Yo Gotti featuring Lil Wayne—”Women Lie, Men Lie”
#93

Another attempt to recreate that “A Milli” magic with an endlessly repeating, weird-sounding vocal hook. Almost works, too. But this is the only record I can think of where Lil Wayne simply disappears from memory once the track is over. The best joke is when Gotti starts exaggerating his list of possessions—he doesn’t sound that different from most other rappers. Of course, I always assume they’re lying, anyway; it’s hardly necessary to drive the point home.

Joe Nichols—”Gimmie That Girl”
#98

This is catchy enough and fiery enough near the end that it could almost be mistaken for some alt-country track from the early 80s. Once you hear that Moore likes his woman barefoot and in the kitchen, though, you’ll know you’re still in good-ol’ traditional Nashville (where the early 80s is about as far into alt-country as anyone cares to go). Thank the Lord for small favors: at least she’s not pregnant (yet).

Justin Moore—”Backwoods”
#100

Having covered the small town USA cliches on, er, “Small Town USA”, Moore heads out to the backwoods for another hootin’ hollerin’ mess o’ stuff you’ve already heard too many times before. I assume “I Love My Wife and Kids”, “Have I Told You About My Personal Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ (Who Doesn’t Mind If I Get Rowdy Once In a While)?”, and a cover of “America, Fuck Yeah!” are just around the corner.

New this week—11/22/09

Sunday, November 22nd, 2009

Shakira featuring Lil Wayne—”Give It Up To Me”
#58

With Timbaland producing, this starts off sounding like a Nelly Furtado record, but after Lil Wayne’s short, sweet rap, Shakira takes over, and actually manages to reduce both Wayne and Timbaland to the status of sidemen. She’s a force of nature, but with Timbaland repeating his old production tricks in the background, this doesn’t rise anywhere near the giddy heights of “She Wolf”. It’s also depressingly submissive: “…put me in a cage and lock me away and I’ll play the games that you want me to play.” That may be a reference to her record company forcing her to make this after the relative commercial disappointment of “She Wolf”, but that’s not the Shakira anybody wants, and I can’t see this doing any better.

OneRepublic—”Good Life”
#69

Is this what Radiohead would sound like if they were a self-satisfied, self-serious, American pop band? Is that something we even want to think about?

Yo Gotti—”5 Star Chick”
#79

The old-school gangstas’ love of women who have actual jobs—aside from stripping—continues. This one, when she isn’t servicing Gotti sexually or drinking his champagne, is going to real estate school. Or is she a teacher? Or a nurse? Oh, I get it, Gotti’s got a whole harem of women with day jobs. Except he doesn’t, because he says he still has to meet this woman. Or maybe he just means yours. Whatever the case, he certainly covers the theme from all the angles. Gotti having wrapped up this subject (no pun intended), old school gangstas may have to start searching for another type of woman completely. I know, how about ones they legally support? Uh, no, I guess not.

Trey Songz—”Say Aah”
#81

Pleasant enough, but too long, and Trey Songz, for all his obvious skills, always reminds of somebody better. He’s the living definition of a mid-level talent, and this is a mid-level song.

Adam Lambert—”For Your Entertainment”
#84

Straight out of the box, Lambert is easily the oddest of the American Idol alumni to hit the charts, but this record, for all it’s forthright sado-masochistic references, is still pretty tame. It’s like a TV arranger’s idea of the Scissor Sisters, with all the musical brashness smoothed over, and more reminiscent of hair metal than disco. The lyrics are crude, as well, even if they’re intended as a metaphor for Lambert’s coming out after playing nicey-nice on Idol. He sounds like a gigolo for pampered, masochistic housewives.

Anya Marina—”Whatever You Like”
#88

Formula: Sarcastic indie-cover of hip-hop hit, sung in breathy little-girl’s voice, with original gender references retained to achieve maximum irony/kinky suggestiveness. Intended Result: Satiric send-up of rap sexism and self-satisfaction. Actual Result: Pop-porn for pedophiles. Conclusion: Yuck.

Josh Turner—”Why Don’t We Just Dance”
#99

The syrup in Turner’s voice is so thick it almost overwhelms the song, which is clever, charming, just sexy enough, and determinedly lightweight. If this had been released ten years ago it would be just another piece of formulaic country, but coming amidst today’s overwrought barn-burners it’s a pleasant diversion. Turner may not have the easy—sometimes too easy—command of George Strait, but his heart’s in the right place, and he tries harder.

Timbaland featuring The Fray and Esthero—”Undertow”
#100

This is promising for the first two minutes. The song isn’t that strong, but Timbaland’s subdued, pained vocal on the first verse, and the gorgeous warmth of Esthero’s on the second, suggest that maybe it will turn into something worthwhile. In the second half, though, it becomes just another Fray record, albeit one with classier and more restrained production—which only serves to underscore how weak the song is. At least “Apologize”, as awful as it was, had hooks.

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, September 14th, 2009

Breaking Benjamin—”I Will Not Bow”
#40

Music for fans of 300, of which there are many, I suppose. I just wish I knew what it was they think they’re fighting. Death itself is the most likely answer, hence the defeatism. But it’s a generic defeatism, as untouched by reality and as sentimental as any lovey dovey acoustic strumalong. They should just send out black edged Hallmark cards and get it over with.

Trey Songz featuring Gucci Mane & Soulja Boy Tell ‘Em—”LOL :-)
#51

The music is charming—which, with a production team named Fisha & Price, is only what you’d expect—but Trey Songz never has anything interesting to say, Gucci Mane adds nothing, and Soulja Boy sounds like he just got up and is stumbling around the kitchen making a cup of coffee while shouting out whatever comes into his head that seems to rhyme (including a plug for his most recent hit). The music might prevent this from become dated too quickly, if it isn’t already, but don’t bet on it.

Michael Buble—”Haven’t Met You Yet”
#65

Unlike a lot of critics, I didn’t think Sara Bareilles “Love Song” was a bad record, but this blatant rip-off makes it sound like a masterpiece. You’d think a star like Buble would make his theft less obvious, but subtlety doesn’t seem to be his strong suit. You also wouldn’t think that a heartthrob like Buble would have a voice as thin as tissue paper, but you’d be wrong about that, too. In it’s way, the dumbest record of the year, and that’s saying something.

Jesse McCartney featuring T-Pain—”Body Language”
#84

Not much of a song, but it does provide an interesting view into the shifting commercial allegiances of hip-hop. The original featured loud “Hey!”s in the mode of T.I., but McCartney must have decided that imitating a guy doing time for Federal weapons charges might not be a good idea in light of the age of most of his audience, so he brings in the more benign, cartoonish T-Pain, whose “Hey”s are softer and, needless to say, prettily autotuned. At the same time, T-Pain seems to embrace McCartney as the heir to the recently convicted Chris Brown, referring to their newly formed partnership as Nappy Boy and Pretty Boy, the same phrase he used to describe himself and Brown on “Kiss Kiss”. Meanwhile, musically, McCartney continues to try to cross the gap between Brown and Justin Timberlake without noticing the big sign that says “You Can’t Get There From Here”. This is starting to become as complicated as a telenovella.

Luke Bryan—”Do I”
#85

What, you mean whine and cry and bore us to tears for four endless minutes? Yes, you do.

Gucci Mane featuring Plies—”Wasted”
#95

Gucci Mane has done so many guest spots in the last couple of months—making up for time lost to incarceration—that you’d be excused for thinking he must be as big a name as T-Pain or Lil Wayne. But I tend to think that most of those guest spots were offered as a welcome home and as a form of charity. He’s contributed nothing of value to any of the records he’s appeared on, and here he teams up with The Worst Rapper On The Planet™ and demonstrates how little we actually missed while he was in the joint.

Sean Kingston—”Face Drop”
#98

The closest thing to a personal touch on this faceless follow-up to the even more faceless “Fire Burning” is a reference to being overweight—which Kingston sings as impersonally as everything else. A couple of years ago I thought he might have some real talent, but obviously I was wrong.

Whitney Houston—”Million Dollar Bill”
#100

A weird one. With all the youthful brassiness missing from Houston’s voice and her upper register apparently gone for good, even her uptempo celebrations are subdued. The opening verse sounds like a Sade record sped up, and though the rest settles into a respectable early ’80s soul groove, it never quite takes off. But it gets better every time I listen to it, and at times Houston conjures a dignity and grace reminiscent of her cousin Dionne Warwick. At this point in her career, I can’t think of a better model.

New this week

Thursday, July 23rd, 2009

Shakira—“She Wolf”
#34

If you’re going to go retro disco, Shakira says, go all the way–and she does. The sheer silliness of this record is dazzling. The bubbling bass line, the funk guitar, the distorted vocals, the panting, the strings. She even sings in a voice reminiscent of the phonetic pronunciation of German disco. And the lyrics, translated from Spanish, sound like bad subtitles. “Darling it is no joke, this is lycanthropy.” “I’m starting to feel just a little abused/like a coffee machine in an office.” “Nocturnal creatures are not so prudent.” She wolf, my ass, Shakira’s turned herself into something even better: the love child of Abba and Boney M.

OneRepublic with Sara Bareilles—“Come Home”
#80

The most hilariously awful record of 2009. The giggles start on the very first line—“Hello world, I hope you’re listening”—and when Ryan Tedder slips into his falsetto I totally lose it. Bareilles does her part as well, with a “yeah” that’s a perfect parody of singer-songwriter faux soulfulness. The laughs continue to the very end, where Tedder and Bareilles exchange urgent “come homes” and the piano finishes with a grace chord that’s the ultimate mixture of meaningless sentiment and pop smarm. Granted, the joke may sour a bit when this shows up in the repertoire of endless American Idol contestants, but for the moment it’s the best laugh the Hot 100 has given me all year. Flight of the Conchords couldn’t have done it any better.

Drake featuring Trey Songz—“Successful”
#89

This is smart, funny, and honest, but it also sounds, at first, like a mix tape goof that came off better than anyone had anticipated. The pivot point is Drake’s “I suppose”, which sound like nothing but lyrical filler at first, but ultimately provides the sense of self-doubt that drives the record and makes it something deeper than the usual “I want money” rap. Successful? What does that mean?

Jason Mraz—“If It Kills Me”
#92

If you overplay cute it curdles, and when your only talent is a certain offhand charm, it’s best not to go on for four and half minutes and overload your arrangement with strings. It makes you look even shallower than you really are.

Daughtry—“You Don’t Belong”
#95

The problem with post-grunge overkill is that what it usually kills is the emotion that inspired the song in the first place. This time, somehow, it doesn’t. I’d make no case for this being a great song, but whatever frustrations it’s meant to express come across despite its flaws. I don’t know if it’s the changes in vocal texture, the weird breaks in the meter, or just the way Daughtry shouts “No!” at the beginning of each chorus, but as one dimensional as the emotion may be, at least it’s there. That’s a hell of a lot more than you can say for Nickelback.

Darryl Worley—“Sounds Like Life To Me”
#99

Loaded with all sorts of homey details, just like a good country song is supposed to be, and yet it still sounds as phony as a three dollar bill. Not only does this not sound like life, it doesn’t sound like much of anything at all. But then, how many variations on “Shit Happens” can you produce and still make it register?

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 there 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.