Lil Wayne
“Mirror” (featuring Bruno Mars), #16
“Blunt Blowin’”, #33
“MegaMan”, #50
“It’s Good” (featuring Drake & Jadakiss), #79
“How To Hate” (featuring T-Pain), #84
“Nightmares of the Bottom”, #90
“President Carter”, #94
“So Special” (featuring John Legend), #95
A mixture of the competent and the truly terrible (“Mirror” may be the most relentlessly self-pitying piece of gunk I have ever heard), the bright spots on these tracks are so few and far between that they feel like Wayne guest spots on his own album. The problem is not, as some have suggested, that Wayne isn’t trying. He obviously is, as the forced word play and over-stressed puns attest. The problem is that, in reaction to his jail stint, he seems to have changed his working methods, writing his raps instead of working ideas over in his head and spitting them out for the first time in front of a microphone. Putting ideas on paper, as any writer will tell you, allows for all sorts of self-doubt and second guessing, and may result in something being worked over until all signs of life have been drained out of it. The freedom and of-the-moment brilliance of Wayne’s raps has disappeared and been replaced by what I’m sure he considers meaningful and carefully considered but lifeless verbiage. Perhaps he’ll work it out, or maybe his inspiration is truly gone, drained by his pre-prison burst of creativity (there were signs of that even before he was sentenced) or killed by his time in jail. He’ll undoubtedly get a second wind, and maybe the genius will return combined with a growing maturity. But that’s going to take time, and there’s no sign that Wayne is doing anything to make that happen. His infinite sense of confidence may be his greatest weakness right now. I expect to hear great things from him in the future, but I don’t expect them anytime soon.
Beyonce—”Love On Top”
#20
The praise for 4 has been so universal I feel like a curmudgeon for not being more impressed by what I’ve heard, but I’m not. This is one of the better cuts, establishing an excellent late-80s soul groove (with synths that sound like they came off a Wings record), and then building into a joyful chorus that becomes ever more ecstatic through a series of ascending key changes. It’s masterful in almost every way, but somehow, for me at least, it lacks something. My problem is Beyonce’s voice, which is technically perfect but has always struck me as sharp and metallic and too obvious in it’s effects. Listening to her is somewhat like watching Jodie Foster or Meryl Streep act: I’m impressed by the skill and technique, but the way they use them is too transparent—it’s a great performance, and I admire the intelligence behind it, but I never forget for a moment that it is a performance. I appreciate a brilliant facade as much as the next person, but people talk about Beyonce as if she were giving us more than that, and from my perspective she rarely does. There’s no doubt that 4 is a step up from the misguided Sasha Fierce, so much so that people are overrating it—or maybe it’s why I’m underrating it; being better than Sasha Fierce doesn’t seem like much of an accomplishment to me.
David Guetta
“Turn Me On” (featuring Nicki Minaj), #37
“Without You” (featuring Usher), #39
“I just want you to father my young” is a great line, but it’s the only great line Minaj is allowed on “Turn Me On”, which sounds as if it might have been written for Rihanna instead. Meanwhile, “Without You” is an OK song with an oddly happy arrangement on the chorus, which also features one of Usher’s best-ever vocal performances. And so goes the hit-and-miss career of David Guetta, superstar DJ and all-around hack.
Chris Brown featuring Benny Benassi—”Beautiful People”
#43
The music is derivative but great, the lyrics derivative and awful, with Chris Brown lying through his teeth every beat of the way. Brown gets points for being the hip-hop performer who has been most willing to jump with both feet into the Euro-disco whirlpool, but he has done so in service of a personality that is so shallow and hypocritical that he makes world peace and the universality of beauty sound unclean. And when I say hypocritical, I’m not talking about Rihanna—it’s right there in the music and in his voice, in every beat and every breath. This guy cares about nothing but himself, and he’s willing to say or do anything to make you care about him too.
Lady Antebellum—”Dancin’ Away With My Heart”
#50
Another perfectly crafted, mediocre celebration of lost love, which once again focuses nostalgically on the singers’ teen years. Please don’t tell me it’s a concept album.
Young the Giant—”My Body”
#65
Further proof of the power of television, as if anybody needed it. Get a featured spot on the VMAs and you’re guaranteed to make the bottom half of the Hot 100 for a week or two. But even TV couldn’t turn this lame pastiche of Muse and The Killers into a real hit. For that you need something else: talent, novelty, tons of promotion money, anything.
LMFAO—”Sexy and I Know It”
#76
The obvious reference point is Right Said Fred, but I hear some Weird Al in here as well, which is welcome. Now that these guys have finally outed themselves as total comedians (and with a flair for electro at that), maybe some people will realize that their hedonistic shoutouts are at least partly satire and stop accusing them of corrupting our youth. Our youth are already corrupt, LMFAO are just making fun of them for profit. That’s the way it’s supposed to be. And don’t think the youth don’t get the joke; why do you think they’re buying the records?
Flo Rida—”Good Feeling”
#82
The Etta James hook is great, as is the overall sound, but that’s all there is: Rida has nothing to say even if you could understand him, and the hook is repeated so often you get sick of it (you might hold out a bit longer on the dance floor, though). A nice idea, but…
