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Monday, July 14, 2008
1:34 AM

I Can't Believe It Either


As much as I complain about how predictable, boring, and repetitive the radio is I have to admit a secret: I tend to be a sucker for a T-Pain hook. When I first heard “I’m In Love With A Stripper,” I found it be the corniest, laziest, most annoying song I had heard in a long time. I still feel that way, actually.

But then the other songs came. He followed the Ashanti blueprint for success and after a while, I found myself singing along to at least 10 of the 9,000 songs that feature his vocals. If you listen to him speak or perform, you’d think he was the spawn of Frito-Lay and the Ringling Brothers, but I still find myself singing one of his hooks every now and then. It’s that damn vocoder. Or maybe it’s the root he has working in the booth. Or maybe it's the fact that if something is played a million times non-stop all day, you can't help but sing-a-long after a while. Whatever it is, it’s got me. Even when I say I’m sick and tired of hearing him on the radio, I end up singing the next song he drops.

Enter “Can’t Believe It.” I should hate this song. It reeks of formality. The same trite ‘in love with a stripper’ subject matter, the talk-singing assisted by the vocoder, a guest appearance by another overexposed artist, Lil’ Wayne – everything that’s wrong with the radio to me. Yet the second I heard it I had to download it. And throw it on my iPod. And burn it to a disc for the ride to the gym.

On Friday, I got some disappointment news (e.g. no news), so I burn that frustration at the gym. The minute I put the song on, I start jigging. What was I thinking about again? Oh yeah…that. Well, whatever, Monday I get to start all over. Then I hit the dial to repeat the track. Continue jigging.

What’s wrong with me? This song isn’t even that hot. Or is it? The second I hear, “Oh I can’t believe it/Ooh, ooh, she all on me (on me)/Man (man), I think she want me (want me)/Nah, I can’t leave her lonely…nah,” I get hooked again -- just in time sing-a-long to, “She make the people say…yeah…yeah…yeah.”

Even Lil’ Wayne’s bars don’t wan me off the song. That creepy, ghoulish flow he does that makes me think he’s about to murk a Smurf as soon as he leaves the booth: still not enough to turn me off this song. I just jig to beat. Now that I’ve played it about a couple dozen times, I kind of already know his part. When I first heard about there being a T-Wayne Best of Both Worlds themed album on the horizon, I was frosty to the idea. Then again, it might have a few decent tracks, right? Maybe?

Dammit. I was really trying to get off the bandwagon, now I’m sucked right back in.

And I can’t believe it.

The Cynical Ones.
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