Like many others, I enjoy making a few resolutions at the beginning of a new year. And seeing as I have tremendously little to improve upon, I usually take it upon myself to make resolutions for others: analyzing what’s wrong with them and using equal parts passivity and aggression to change them for the better. After doing this for a few years, I’ve decided to turn this year’s focus to something else: rap music. With that in mind, here are my three rap resolutions for 2009.
If at all possible, I would like to live this year with just a little less T-Pain. For the past 16 months or so, T-Pain has been featured in approximately 128% of all hip-hop songs. Wherever you go, T-Pain is there. On my drive to work, I heard Jamie Foxx (feat. T-Pain), Flo Rida (feat. T-Pain), and Ludacris (feat.T-Pain). For lunch, I had a cold cut sub (featuring T-Pain). Here’s an idea, next time we’re at the club, let’s play a drinking game: Every time a T-Pain song comes on, I take a shot and punch you in the face. Anyway, before I continue, I suppose I should clarify: my T-Pain problem doesn’t stem from his ubiquitousness. I really just hate him for popularizing auto-tune, the robotic voice thingy that must be costing poor Akon a ton of work.
Okay, you're a robot. We get it. Now stop it. And take off that silly-ass hat.
Suddenly everybody has gotten their hands on this thing. Chris Brown’s using it, Snoop used it, Kanye West used it to death on his new album, and Lil’ Wayne used it in more than 20 songs (not kidding) last year. Basic mathematics should indicate that Wayne’s voice, when hooked up to that thingy, should actually sound just like Phil Hartman’s, but it doesn’t work out that way. It’s actually just what your modem would sound like if it had a record deal and a codeine addiction.
And while we’re making some resolutions for 2009, I could certainly do without DJ Khalid yelling at me all the time. I know, I know: you the best. Whatever you say, just please lower your tone. And please start using verbs and contractions in your sentences. But mainly, please lower your tone. And while I’m on the subject, why do so many hip-hop DJs insist on constantly shouting? I don’t care who’s going to be in the building, I’m not going to club Zanzibar this Thursday night if you keep screaming.
Now seems like a good place to display this song I saw on BET’s “106 & Park” for the first time while I was typing this.
Seriously folks, stop it.
And speaking of DJs, they’re involved in my third rap resolution: In 2009, let’s cancel re-starting songs on the radio. Few things bother me more than hearing a DJ start the same song over and over again. Maybe this is more enjoyable in person, when the guy is actually scratching and mixing between two records. On radio, however, it’s just profoundly obnoxious. When I’m driving down the road, steering with my knees so I can devote all of my energy to singing and doing the wop, I need my song to keep going. Once we acknowledge that the remy is in the system, we need to begin exploring the possible repercussions. I don’t need to hear that it’s in the system over and over again. How on Earth did this ever become acceptable? When I become president, I’m immediately putting three rules into action:
1) The left lane (on all roads with 2+ lanes in one direction) has a speed limit 15mph higher than the other lanes.
2) No more than three toppings on a six-inch sub at Subway.
3) Starting “Hypnotize” over and over again is punishable by death.
Three little changes, folks. This doesn’t seem too difficult, does it? If we can make these, any of these, happen in 2009, I guarantee the world will be a better place. Just promise me you’ll try.
Prologue I consider myself a student of popular culture. I read the magazines, I watch the shows, and I watch the clip shows that make fun of those shows. I've devoted an awe-inspiring (and equally depressing) amount of time to learning all there is to know in the world of entertainment. With that in mind, I'm going to go ahead and throw this out there: I can honestly say, without a shadow of a doubt, that Soulja Boy is the most important artist of the 21st century. Or else he's the least. I'm not sure which one, but he's definitely one or the other.And so, in tribute, I proudly present a look back in the career of Soulja Boy¹.
Vol. 1: Dawn of an era
We're currently in the midst of a little something called the "YouTube generation", in which any a-hole with a video camera can become a celebrity. You don't need to spend money on agents anymore, you don't need to audition, you don't even need any discernable talent (which I'm not saying Soulja Boy doesn't have; however, he doesn't). Just record something and post it online for the world to enjoy. Here's an example of the power of YouTube: for no reason whatsoever, I just visited the site and typed the words "puppet rap". Over 500 videos. Here's one that's gotten over 200,000 views. You're welcome.
Where was I? Oh yeah: Soulja Boy is the personification of the YouTube generation. He came up with a song, gave it a dance, and 165 million views later, here we are. Thanks to our recent advances in technology, it's perfectly reasonable to say that Soulja Boy created the most popular song we've ever heard. And how did he do it? It's simple. When creating "Crank Dat", Mr. Boy followed the "Macarena" recipe precisely:
Take a chorus, and make approximately 92% of it fairly indecipherable.
Make the remaining 8% of your chorus something you yell with complete clarity.
Add a silly-ass dance.
Follow at least one of these steps and you've got yourself a hit. For a while, every song on the radio featured step 3 (don't forget "chicken noodle soup", or we're doomed to repeat it). But Soulja Boy, and only Soulja Boy, met and exceeded each step. He even took it further and followed the optional fourth step: mix catchy music with wildly inappropriate lyrical content. While "Macarena" is essentially about a girl who bangs her man's friends while he's out of town, "Crank Dat" is about, well, it's pretty much about ejaculating on people.
This is common knowledge by now, right? If not, let's have the people at urbandictionary.com clear this whole thing up:
"Superman: When you are mad at your girl for not having sex with you. So when she falls asleep you masturbate and cum on her back. After that, stick the bedsheet on to her back and when she wakes up it's stuck to the cum and she has a cape like Superman!!!"
"Robocop: ejaculate semen into a bucket and invert it on to your lady friend's head"
Yup. There you go. And yes, he also says "super-soak that ho". And no, I'm not looking that up.
Hey, here's a fun little trivia fact for you: In 2003, Lil John topped the charts with "Get Low", which means if you graduated from high school last year, there's a good chance that the most popular songs at your freshman and senior dances were both about ejaculating on people. Is this what the kids are into these days, running around with their bling bling, leaning with it, rocking with it, and ejaculating on people? Somewhere Luther Vandross is rolling over in his grave.
Now about these terms: I understand the superman, (comprehend, I should say, because I don't really understand it) but the Robocop is completely beyond me. Is this something everyone involved is supposed to enjoy? Is it some sort of summer camp-ish prank? If you know for sure, email me and tell me (actually, don't tell me the answer, just tell me that you know, so I can add your name to a list I'm starting).
And I'm not trying to disrespect anyone's hobby here; how you spend your free time is entirely up to you. But here's my real objection: is this, ladies and gentlemen, how we honor two of America's greatest crime fighters? That's just not right. These guys save lives, bring criminals to justice, and this is the thanks they get? Imagine how awkward it must've been when Robocop, bragging about his shout-out, was informed by his friends that his name had now been reduced to a filthy, filthy verb. Just not right.
Vol. 2: Something for the ladies
Potentially beginning with LL Cool J's "I need love", the following rule has applied: if you rap long enough, you're going to end up making your sensitive love song. Soulja Boy met that requirement early on, with his second single, "Soulja Girl". It wasn't particularly interesting. At all. Let's move on.
Vol. 3: Soulja Boy hates your guts
Hip-hop essentially revolves around a series of egocentric, materialistic clichés (if you write me and tell me how I'm wrong because Mos Def this, or Talib Kweli that, I'm going to kick your teeth in, swear to God). Rappers spend the majority of their time discussing money, clothing, or why they are hot (and, if applicable, why you aren't). There is, however, one more, much lesser known (yet equally prevalent) staple in hip-hop: personal space. For some reason, rappers absolutely detest having their comfort zones violated². Ed Lover sang "Back up off me". TI said "You don't know me". Onyx titled an album "Bacdafucup". Ludacris went so far as to release the singles "Get back" and "Move" (as in, "move bitch, get out the way") just so there was no confusion regarding his approachability. Sure, there's the occasional exception (most notably Chubb Rock), but don't be mistaken: there is nothing rappers (and the Dixie chicks) hate more than your broke ass interacting with them. Apparently it's already reached this point for Soulja Boy, who in his song "Yahh!" complains about being repeatedly approached by his ugly fans. In the chorus, he yells "Get out my face" 16 times in a row. I ponder the ironic dilemma a fan faces when telling Soulja Boy how much they enjoy that song. On the other hand, that may be a bridge that no one thought would be crossed. Epilogue
In conclusion, let's take a look at Soulja Boy's stats: Three million song downloads. Five million ringtones sold. Over 30 million views on YouTube. A grammy nomination. One silly-ass dance song. One "I love you" song. One "Get the hell away from me" song. He accounted for practically all rap clichés (if he releases another album, even money says he'll be a crack dealer) and he did it all on just one album. He lived the entire rap lifespan in little over one year. Never before has an artist done so much, yet done nothing in particular. So what's next for Soulja Boy? Hopefully nothing. Honestly, it all depends on whatever somebody else decides to do first.And what do you call arguably the most parasitic artist in arguably the most self-parasitic art form in existence? A hack? A genius? Both? For this very reason, Soulja Boy, of all people, is the most important artist of the 21st century. Or else he's not. But definitely one or the other.
¹Some may say that, after only one album, it's a bit premature to break out a retrospective of his entire career. Eh, that's a chance I'm willing to take. ²I suppose the same can be said of The Dixie Chicks, who sang "Wide Open Spaces" and "Ready to Run".
So I'm sitting at home by myself on a Saturday, as the cool kids tend to do, when the Red Hot Chili Peppers hop on stage as the SNL musical guest. When it comes to the Chili Peppers, I'm usually on board no matter what. They're incredible musicians and one of the few bands with a live act that sounds better than their studio work. Like I said, I'm usually on board. This was not one of those times.
The guys were playing "Dani California", the first single off of their new album, and something wasn't sitting right. It's not that the song's first solo is basically just Led Zeppelin's "All of my love", and it's not that the second seems pretty heavily inspired by "Purple Haze". Both are possible coincidences, and quite forgivable. Suddenly the real problem hit me, and I will not ignore it any longer:
Why do the Red Hot Chili Peppers keep singing about states?
It all started innocently enough back in 1999 with Californication. What seemed like just a clever pun was a red flag in hindsight, and the band has insisted on bludgeoning us with states ever since. They mention five in the album's first song alone, and it just kept coming from there. "Dani California" features six states (five of which they hadn't mentioned before), and they throw in a song with Michigan in the title a few tracks later. I don't know if they have kids in elementary school, I don't know if they're auditioning to be the next Rockapella, I don't know what the hell's going on. But enough is enough.
Since they've been making albums since I was three, I'm not going to tell the Red Hot Chili Peppers how to do their job. But I will say this:
Guys, if you're reading this (and I assume you are), please stop singing about states. I get it, there's a lot of states. Damn near 50. How about you sing about some other places you've been. Ever been to Canada? They've got all sorts of provinces you could sing about. Here, I'll get the ball rolling. The capital of Saskatchewan is "Regina". It rhymes with "Vagina". You're welcome.
Listen, I understand it's tough to stay fresh for decades, so I won't give you that hard a time about this. Just admit you've been slacking, promise to try a bit harder, and we'll be just fine. Well, while you're clearing the air, why don't you also admit Will Ferrell's your drummer. After that, all is forgiven.
vs. (Ever see Will Ferrell at a Chili Peppers concert? Didn't think so)
Okay, you're a robot. We get it. Now stop it. And take off that silly-ass hat. 
