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Monday, December 29, 2008
2:34 AM


And I Know...

 

One of the best features of Esquire magazine is their popular “What I’ve Learned” series.

If you’re unfamiliar with it, go here and read up. You can gain a lot of wisdom depending on the interview you’re reading.

I wanted to take a stab at doing my own so here I go:

I stole this idea from Jason. He who blogs at Basement Elevation. I know swagger jacking is wrong, but it was too good an idea to pass up. After you read mine, go read his.

I don’t see myself as the best writer. I think I have talent and potential, but I feel it’s my perspective on things that separates me from other people, not necessarily any particular gift at prose.

I can’t see myself doing anything else but writing. This has spurred frustration from people who always looked to me to become a lawyer, a politician, or some other prestigious profession. Thank God it’s my life and not theirs.

I know that as outgoing and social as I am, there’s still a very shy and awkward quality to me. I’m kind of crazy, but in a way that doesn’t warrant a prescription. I’ve come to appreciate that.

I’d rather be considered weird than boring.

Cynicism is what happens to closet idealists who can’t take disappointment anymore.

Humor is the perfect coping mechanism.

Honesty isn’t nearly as popular as people pretend it to be. Liars have it way too easy.

The word sheep can perfectly describe the majority of the population. That and a yawn.

I wish people would stop equating going to church every week with being a good person. One is not a prerequisite for the other. I shouldn’t have to constantly explain why I’m not Satan in slimmer packaging because I’m no longer a regular church goer to people who don’t know very much about their own faith anyway.

God is with me even if everyone else isn’t.

Is there a point in not speaking your mind? If there is, please never share it with me.

I’ve found that whenever I plan something out for my life it never goes the way I intended it to. Never. It may behoove me to finally start planning in generalities to give myself leeway. Or maybe I should stop trying to plan everything altogether.

I try not to have any regrets, though I still secretly carry a few with me.

Letting go is a concept I’ve yet to master. To my own detriment.

Marriage is probably not going to happen for me. That’s fine. Living in sin sounds more fun anyway.

My nieces make me smile. They are living proof that cycles can be broken.

Listen to your gut. Living by fear will do nothing but lead you to becoming a loser bitch.

I won’t be satisfied until I helped facilitate real change.

I know I am meant for something great. I’m just not sure how long it will take me to get there. Here’s to hoping not much longer. I'm hella impatient.


The Cynical Ones.
posted by Michael at 5 Comments

Monday, December 22, 2008
2:43 AM


I Am Music Review

 

Disclaimer: If you were expecting a more formal concert review similar to the way I have done album reviews, yeah I didn’t feel like it.

Up until twenty minutes ago I completely forgot that technically I’ve seen Lil’ Wayne perform twice via the Ruff Ryders/Cash Money and Cash Money Millionaire tours. That recollection totally botched what was supposed to be my opening sentence. I was going to talk about how I was did something I never thought I would do (paying to see him perform) and play it all up but dammit I’ve already seen the little Gremlin years ago.

Eh, it wasn’t like he was the headliner on either bill back then so I’m sure ya’ll still get what I’m trying to say. I’ve never consider myself to be that big a Wayne fan. I ignored him almost as much as the rest of the world ignored Turk. I’ve always been aware of his growing buzz (and ultimate takeover) though I still never really cared that much about him.

Over the last two years he’s kind of made it hard to ignore him. His latching on to every person’s song can only be rivaled by T-Pain and he drops mixtapes every other second. Between that and finally watching him perform (at least on his own) I now understand his appeal.

He may have been higher than this summer’s gas prices the whole time but Wayne can put on a show. He’s a charismatic crack head who really knows how to excite a crowd. And might I add that he’s quite a uniter. I’ve never seen so many hoodrats, homos, and white folk in such close proximity. As soon as I stepped into the Toyota Center I went to the bathroom and saw them gambling near the stalls. Everyone black, white, gay, straight were getting hustled out of their money. That is progress my people.

Anyway, I’ve heard from a few old Wayne fans (you know when the block was hot) that this isn’t the Wayne they used to love and jig to. They complain he’s too left field for them now. They don’t want to see him on a guitar (which he donned for “Prostitute Flange”) nor do they want to hear him sing. In some respects, I can understand that but I’m glad he’s decided to try new things. If he didn’t he’d be like the rest of the Cash Money roster. Where are they now again?

I won’t say that I’m a stan or anything, but I realized I knew more of his songs than I thought I did and would pay to see him again. I was actually pissed he didn’t perform my favorite song, “Me and My Drank.” It might be ignorant as hell and a glorified love song for addiction but I love it. In fact, about two weeks ago I performed in the parking lot outside of a club.

As for the other line up, I have to say I was pleasantly surprised with them, too. Who knew T-Pain could actually sing on key without the aid of a vocoder? He reminds me of someone that used to sit at the band table and make a bunch of corny jokes, but he’s entertaining. The Britney midget, the ugly clowns, the muscle butt women dancing on those huge wooden legs – it was like Ringling Brothers at a hole in the hall and for T-Pain, it worked.

Now on to Keyshia Myesha. I love her. So much now. She didn’t sound like her throat got into a fight during sound check and her dancing was not off. In fact, she was even doing some of my moves. Somebody’s been in dance class in an effort to keep up with their mama. Holla.

As for the new image, I think it initially threw people off in the audience. When you think old school glamour you don’t think chick from Oakland that used to rock Big Red’s hair color. I think everyone got over it as soon as she went through her catalog.

If you’re wondering how Gym Class Heroes and Keri Hilson were, yeah I guess we were walking around talking about people while they were on so we missed them. Oh well.

If you have a chance to go to the tour I would recommend it. For those of you worried fear not: I did not have to run from any bullets before, after, or during the show. Besides, even if you have to do that it’s good exercise.

Labels:


The Cynical Ones.
posted by Michael at 3 Comments

Thursday, December 18, 2008
6:52 AM


If I Were A Claus

 



George Bush ought to be happy about this video. It proves he's not the only one who has had a hand in ruining Christmas. They really don't make classics anymore, which is why I'll never let go of "Santa Claus Goes Straight To The Ghetto" and "Player's Ball."

Despite Juelz foray into bastardizing holiday classics I will let the little bit of holiday cheer that thee private student loan industry hasn't already stripped for me remain.

I'm feeling so festive I wanted to share what gifts I would pass along if I had Santa's credit card number:

Aretha Franklin: Diet hog maw. Or gastric bypass.

Amy Winehouse: Rehab. New teeth. Self esteem.

Brutha: A new song. So I can never here, “Here’s my brother and I love him like myself” ever again.

Mike Tyson: Prescription drugs that don’t cause massive weight gain.

Aubrey O’Day: A clue.

Solange: A charming personality. Or a muzzle.

Kanye West: A hug…from someone else.

Brandy: Album sales.

Ashanti: A buddy pass to my gym. That is, unless she loves it. If so, scratch off gym and put me down for a catfish po’boy.

Britney Spears: Her rhythm back. Or three years of seclusion.

Ciara: A clue. The number to Rihanna’s stylist.

Janet Jackson: A time machine.

Foxy Brown: A psychiatrist.

Janelle Monet: A guarantee that Puff Puff won’t treat her like Cherri Dennis.

Every other artist signed to Bad Boy: Their royalties.

Lil’ Kim: A new face – a Black one.

The Debarge Family: Therapy.

Mya: A seventh chance at stardom.

Pamela Anderson: Dignity.

Usher: His career back.

Ne-Yo: A different set of subject matter to write about.

Jamie Foxx: A consistent hairline.

Sarah Palin: A book you can’t color in.

Khia: Sanity.

Mariah Carey: Wine. (Red wine if she’s pregnant.)

Anyone that’s worked with Chris Pokes: Their innocence back.

The Real Housewives of Atlanta: A husband that isn't already someone else's for Kim, an affordable home for Nene, a trip to a real designer's home for Sheree, and a synonym for 'elite' for DeShawn.

As for me, money, a book deal, and a show will suffice. Oh and if you can get me an mp3 of Aretha's cover of "Touch My Body," that would be great. And also *******. Oh and a vote. That isn't too much to ask, is it?

If you're going to be stingy and not give me any of that can you just join me in my efforts to retire the word 'swag' in 2009?



The Cynical Ones.
posted by Michael at 6 Comments

Wednesday, December 17, 2008
10:01 AM


Bitch, Grow Up: Juan Williams

 



Juan Williams is one of those Black people I wish you could bitch slap the Black off of. You would think after years of saying some of the most insidious comments about race, class, and politics on Fox News Juan might be compelled to finally start making an ounce of sense.

That’s what I get for still holding on to optimism. Some people can’t be saved especially those that work for Fox News. Juan has to earn that paycheck so he has to make sure he utters the most nonsensical bullshit to secure airtime.

“How many lives have sacrificed to the cause of liberating Iraq?

Liberate Iraq? I don’t recall Iraqis ever asking us to “liberate” them via an invasion and occupation. Besides, wasn’t the whole point of the war to stop Saddam from using his nonexistent nuclear weapons?

I wonder how many Iraqi lives were lost in a war for profit that was guised as an effort to thwart nuclear war.

“We’d never treat their leader in that way.”

Not that I’m a fan, but we executed Saddam Hussein. Of course, we’re the reason he had all of those chemical weapons to begin with, but I suppose that doesn’t matter now.

“The act of an ingrate.”

I can’t stand when Black people in particular say some bullshit like this. Earlier this year Pat Buchanan wrote that Black people ought to be more grateful as white people have done more for Blacks than other race on Earth.

And last year Pope Benedict told Brazilians that despite what history tells them Christianity was never imposed on them by a foreign culture, then proceeding to bash their way of life pre-colonization.

This is the exact same thing to me.

“I would’ve punched the guy.”

And he probably would’ve shoved his socks down your throat.

Juan Williams, today’s fool of the day.

Labels:


The Cynical Ones.
posted by Michael at 2 Comments

Monday, December 15, 2008
2:30 AM


Off Key Ye

 



Before puberty came along and dashed my dreams of becoming Bobby Brown (a sober and jail free version), I could sing. Pretty damn well for a kid, if I do say so myself. Even at the age of 8 I was writing songs and singing them in my room thinking one day I could be on stage like the greats -- Michael Jackson or maybe even Vanity. I didn't even listen to my mama when she would say, "Yeah you sound alright, but go do your homework." I knew she was hating and her negative vibes weren't going to stop me.

Nature damn sure did, though. All of a sudden my voice cracked like Mariah Carey after Glitter and hasn't been right since. Damn shame, too, because I really wanted to sing. I still do on occasion. On some days, if I focus really really hard and drink lots and lots of water I can manage to hold a decent note while singing D'Angelo's "When We Get By." I ended up having a throat ache soon after, but that's OK because for those three minutes, I still had it.

But I don't dare try any of this in public. Why? Because I know I would sound like a damn fool. I wish Kanye West could say the same. I understand that he's hurt but I need him to accept that his singing voice could give a dolphin a seizure. Thanks to Auto-tune it works on studio versions, but that's not something one ought to try live.

Now I've been taking up for 'Ye since folks have been giving him a hard time lately for going atypical on them, but either he gets singing lessons, a working vocoder, or a better distractions or he needs to just go back to straight rapping. He's giving us high school talent show. I don't know what kind of high school some of you readers went to, but my shit was hood as hell. I still remember them booing the girl who performed "Amazing Grace" -- and she only got to line two of the song. I can only imagine the reception Kanye would get performing this.

The Cynical Ones.
posted by Michael at 3 Comments

2:02 AM


Bam!

 



I get the feeling when Nene told people to check out her past she imagined reporters would dig up on pictures of her pussy poppin' on a handstand. In her mind she likely pictured a camera crew showing up at her doorstep with old pictures yelling, "Nene! Nene! Did you really used to strip to Big Daddy Kane?" to which she would quip back, "Oh yes, darling I did and I was fierce. And hunny don't let the kids, the age, and the marriage fool you I am still bad." Then she'd probably do two snaps and go about her business.

Too bad it didn't turn out that way. I ultimately got sucked into this show and Nene quickly became my favorite cast member. She's like that drunk aunt you wouldn't want to see too often but around the holidays you're dying to see her with that gin in her system. She's funny and doesn't seem to take herself too seriously unlike the other ones who keep going on about how "elite, wealthy, and elite" they are. Stop laughing, ya'll! Saying that makes them feel good about themselves.

I suppose I shouldn't be surprised that Nene was lying her ass off as much as the rest of them. Those that usually claim to be the realest turn out the be the biggest liar of them all. Word to Officer Ross.

In her defense she did say she's keeping up with the Jones'. Have you paid attention to the news lately? The Jones' are probably ducking bill collectors, too.

The thing about this show is that most people ought to know it's essentially just a cheap sitcom without all of the formalities like a script, writers with benefits, and the like. I mean real socialites would never appear on reality TV and extra rich people don't like folks all in their business.

What we have here is a case of penthouse dreams with Section 8 checks. No offense to my Atlanta readers (including my friends from Georgia -- love ya'll), but it's a bunch of brokies just like that fronting Atlanta. But to be fair to them, at least they keep their rented house and Rent-A-Center furniture away from the cameras. Live and learn, Linnethia.

Although she invited this scrutiny herself to a degree by appearing on a reality show, why the hell is this news? Don't the local news reporters of Atlanta have something else to report on? Maybe a crime wave, a declining job market to shed light on, or a T.I. to keep following around? You would think Nene's husband owed someone at the station a check.

Leave her alone.

The Cynical Ones.
posted by Michael at 4 Comments

12:21 AM


Better Luck Next Time?

 



I haven't been this excited about a shoe since those padded leather Js came out in 7th grade. Iraqi television journalist Muntadar al-Zaidi knows how to make his presence felt. Showing the soles of shoes to someone is equivalent to spitting in someone's face in Arab culture. The ultimate fuck yo couch indeed.

When he threw his first shoe Muntadar screamed, "This is a goodbye kiss from the Iraqi people, dog." When he went for Plan B he yelled, "This is for the widows and orphans and all those killed in Iraq." Unfortunately, Bush is a lot quicker than people thought. I guess we should have put the economy in a boot and chunked it at him. We'd be much better off.

If you're wondering why he's so testy, well beyond the whole illegal war thing Muntadar had been kidnapped and beaten by a militia. Coincidentally, when Saddam Hussein's regime was overthrown, Iraqis took off their Forces and beat the Hussein statute to the ground. Now Iraqis are hurling their shoes like missiles at Bush. So much for we'll be greeted as liberators. I will give Bush credit in finding humor in a journalist's attempts to leave a Stacy Adams imprint in his eye socket. If only his quick reflexes and humor weren't overshadowed by his abysmal record.

I've noticed some people have expressed sympathy towards President Bush. Some people believe Supershoes should have showed respect for the leader of the free world. I'm not one of those people.

That leader of the free world started an illegal war under false pretenses and has destabilized a region that was already under immense turmoil. Lives have been lost, people have been displaced, and I myself still worry that one of my relatives will come home in a body bag due to some jackass starting a war that's only benefited the stock portfolio of his second in command.

Lucky for Bush he caused such a severe recession that people won't go rushing to Finish Line to hook Muntadar up with another shoe to throw. I wonder if he'll able to avoid a fate that doesn't involve a toe tag.

The Cynical Ones.
posted by Michael at 3 Comments

Friday, December 12, 2008
10:10 AM


! H@+3 !t

 


I try my hardest not to be a word Nazi. Not only is such a person annoying, but you have to be almost perfect to get away with pretending to be captain of the Vocabulary and Grammar po-po. Still every person has their limits and I definitely have a few. There is nothing more irritating to me than a muthafucka that doesn't know the difference between your and you're.

Actually there is: There's the jackass that will try to pop shit your way and can't even use to, too, and two correctly. I swear one day I'm going to record a diss track against English teachers across the country. Or randomly bitch slap people with a copy of Hooked on Phonics. Whatever gets the most results.

I'm also not the type to correct people. There's something really pretentious about it so I avoid doing it. The only time I will say something usually centers on "conversate." If I love you I will pull you to the side and say, "It's converse. Please never say 'conversate' again. Ever." Now if I could give a less fuck about you I will let you walk around thinking "conversate" is a real word.

I may be the typo king at times, but you will never find me sending a text or email that looks something like: "It wuz gud conversatin wit u to, fam." Jesus be a sore thumb or a keyboard killer. Even worse than that is what these kids (that may make me sound old, but I don't want to be associated with that group) are now typing.

Y'know, L!k3 Thiiz nd 5h!t. Or TyP3 LyK3 DiS nd $h!T. If you are a member of the Soulja Boy generation, I somewhat understand and I say a prayer for you as often as possible. But there are people old enough to remember literate rappers who still TyP3 Lyk3 DA+.

What is wrong with them?

Th3y {\/}@d (ru3/_ @nd $h!t
!m (r@(k!n9 d@ f{}ck [_]p

I wish their keyboards would commit suicide.

I wear contacts. Are people trying to make me go blind deciphering that bullshit? I don't know what dsylexic inspired this trend, but I want to end. But I know it won't, which makes me so {\/}
@nd $h!t.

Labels:


The Cynical Ones.
posted by Michael at 11 Comments

Wednesday, December 10, 2008
2:45 PM


It Doesn't Matter

 



Kevin Federline is a second rate dancer who was fortunate enough to catch a woman - who despite being a superstar - has a family history riddled with mental illness and was seemingly on the rebound. And as we've all learned he then married her and proceeded to successfully push just enough buttons to cause her to lose what little bit of sense she did have and gain a steady check via custody of their two sons.

So not only do we know he's an untalented loser bitch, it's clear his only claim to fame is the woman he helped almost ruin. I say all of this to make the case for why people shouldn't care what this jack ass thinks about Black people one way or the other.

People tend to hate what they fear, or in this wannabe's case, mock what they secretly envy. He has a Black baby mama and launched a rap career. Why should I care if he's making fun of Black stereotypes when he perpetuates some of them himself? I've had this debate with a couple of my friend's and for me personally, I feel as if Black people have bigger fish to fry.

Sure, we can sit around stewing around over Kevin Federline but I don't see the point. There are always going to be idiots who try to guise their true prejudices in gest. I've never put collard greens on my plate and everyone knows strawberry or 'rnge' soda is better than grape.

If he wants to act like a joke let him. It won't be long before Britney regains custody of her children and he's back to begging Shar Jackson to hooking up their digital camera to shoot video blogs on YouTube.

But to be fair to Kevin, this may not even be him in the clip. I kinda don't think it is him, but since I'm not a fan I wanted to pop shit anyway. If it's not actually him in the clip, that makes it all the more worth dismissing because who hides behind Kevin Federline? A coward worth laughing at.

There are always going to be racist people of every color. Not all of them are worth our attention. So put your white powder away.

The Cynical Ones.
posted by Michael at 2 Comments

1:44 AM


Plug The Leak

 



While people are still laughing at Keyshia Cole for dressing like the chick that gave JJ Evans VD on that episode of Good Times at the De La Hoya fight, many have been distracted from news of her true crime: Fucking up a Mary J. Blige song.

As odd as it may be in hindsight, Mary J. Blige's My Life was my shit. It doesn't matter if I was 10. The album was good. And one of my favorite songs from the album is "I Love You." When word leaked that Keyshia Cole was going to remake the track with Lil' Wayne, I had a feeling it was going to turn out awful.

But to call it awful would be like saying the U.S. economy is only slighty bad. Or that O.J. Simpson is only a little stupid.

I know the remake was intended to pay homage to Mary, but after listening to it I can't help but wonder if Mary owes Keyshia money or slept with her man? You would think it was a diss record. You mad, Keyshia?

I happen to like Keyshia Cole. I like the fact that she's trying really hard to better herself. Sure, she's been looking like Betty Boop and the Roadunner in the process, but you can't knock a girl for trying.

But back to this song. I don't get the logic. She's already compared to Mary, and when she decides to cover one of her songs, she goes and records something like that? She was smart enough not to include this on her album. It would have been even smarter to destroy any record of this song ever being recorded.

She better be lucky Mary is fine, fine, fine, fine, fine now. If we were talking '95 Mary she might have cracked open a crack pipe and cut up Keyshia. Man down.

I would place some of the blame on Wayne, too, but given the fact that he'd add his rhymes to the original Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles theme song if offered, I already knew he didn't care if the song sounded good or not.

But Keyshia ought to know better. I don't want to encourage Black on Black violence, but I wouldn't be mad if Mary and Kendu jump them.

As I write this, D'Angelo's cover of Prince's "She's Always In My Hair" just came on my iPod. Now that's a remake. Granted, I can barely understand a word he's saying, but at least his mumbles are on key. Live and learn, Keyshia. Live and learn.

Labels:


The Cynical Ones.
posted by Michael at 2 Comments

Monday, December 08, 2008
12:59 AM


In Six

 

I was reading the homie and legend (gotta start early) Clove's blog the other day and stumbled across a post about people summing up their entire lives in six words. It's not as easy as some people would think it is, but I decided to give it a shot only with a different twist.

Michael Jackson: White skin. Korean hair. Alien nose.

Beyonce: Dip it. Pop it. Twirk it.

Lil’ Wayne: Styrofoam cup. Don’t give a fuck.

Bobby Brown: It was all Whitney’s fault.

Kanye West: I’m the only man worth loving.

Hillary Clinton: Why couldn’t it have been me?

Kelly Rowland: I thought the Knowles’ loved me.

Mary J. Blige: I’m fine fine fine fine. Woo!

Keyshia Cole: I’m just like you. No really

Bow Wow: I had to. It was Omarion.

Omarion: Anyone is better than Chris Stokes.

Britney Spears: Fame makes you lose your mind.

Janet Jackson: Should’ve worn a bra that day.

Mariah Carey: Unicorns. Rainbows. Butterflies. Charmbracelets. Pinot Grigio.

Foxy Brown: My album is coming out soon.


Chico and El Debarge: Drugs were not good to us.

Ciara: I could never make it work.

Kim Kardashian: Wow. That sex tape really worked.

Lil’ Kim: Always remember to research your surgeon.


Rihanna: Don’t tell me I ain’t fly.

As for me: He always gave it his all.

I know, I know: aww and shit. I almost went with "Skinny muthaf-cka is crazy as s-it."

Your turn.



The Cynical Ones.
posted by Michael at 7 Comments

Thursday, December 04, 2008
1:30 PM


Honk If You're Horny

 



When I was like 4 or 5, I had a duck (or rat to some) tail. One day I grabbed some scissors and cut it off. I got whooped for it, but it was worth it. Even I knew that some things needed to be let go. I guess people are feeling nostalgic and want to bring it back. As a matter of fact, a few weeks ago I spotted someone with a flat top at the club. I had one of those, too.

Don't hate. Anyway, this post isn't about that wack black splatch in the back of his head. I'm trying to settle something.

Now, I find this song corny, but the person who sent this to me (to laugh at his rat tail) said this song is nice. And when I said it was corny, homie tried to play me on my taste (Beyonce).

I've noticed readers here have varied opinions (you know, like humans) so I'm trying to conduct an informal poll.

I've never been a big Bobby V. fan anyway, but this song is the worst. "She gon' let me beep, beep, beep?" We're describing sex with the noises of a car horn now? What's next? Describing foreplay with red light, green light? Yeah, yeah...he meant beat, but he's still corny.

What do ya'll think? Am I alone or does the honk if your horny anthem have some charm to it?

P.S. Because I know that same person is going to leave a comment calling me a bird, I'm going to need you to read the comments left on the site.

DIZ MA SHYT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
this is my song

You have the same taste as KFC and Church's yourself, pimp. Don't be mad Popeyes has better taste.

The Cynical Ones.
posted by Michael at 7 Comments

1:17 PM


808's & Heartbreak

 


First impressions mean everything. The moment a person develops a perception of you that image is going to stick. You can evolve and prove there’s far more layers to you than one may initially have believed, but that first impression is still embedded in people’s minds. Especially when you have a strong personality; if you’re perceived to be audacious, or in some instances, obnoxious and pompous, the second you break away from that folks won’t know what to make of it.

That’s probably why the reaction to Kanye West’s 808s and Heartbreak has varied so much. I myself needed more than a few listens to conclude how I felt about it. My initial reaction wasn’t hate like so many others; it was more so indifference. For an artist like Kanye West, indifference is probably worse than hate.

It’s not that it’s a bad album; no, not even. But it’s not your typical Kanye – or so I thought. I’ve read reviews that call for Kanye to fall back to braggadocios rhymes that reek of self-absorption. Don’t let the guise of Kanye the auto-tune assisted crooner fool you: The more you listen to this album the faster it dawns on you that Kanye is just as self-absorbed as he ever was.

808s and Heartbreak is a break-up album from the prospective of a person who seemingly places most of the blame on the other person. How much more self-absorbed can you get than that?

The man who never had a double standard he didn’t want to put on wax is still there – just listen to the invasive-girlfriend themed track “Robocop.” Listening to him say (almost whiningly), “You spoiled lil’ LA girl,” (Hi, Alexis), is like watching a crack head turn their nose up at a meth addict. But to write this off as the same old Kanye with T-Pain’s autotune wouldn’t be completely fair to him or the album.

If the news or his recent interviews weren’t clue enough, 808s and Heartbreak sheds light on the obvious: Kanye’s had better days. For people to criticize him for being forthright about that seems selfish. Though the album sounds a lot more pop than it does hip-hop (even more so than previous offerings), that doesn’t mean Kanye ought to throw on the same mask as your typical pop artist would. One look at Britney Spears easily shows you that no matter how well you dress it up, everyone can see past what you’re hiding.

Calling Kanye to not be so much of a downer for fear of alienating listeners who aren’t in the mood is asking him to do something he doesn’t seem comfortable with doing: Lying. As somber as “Bad News,” “Heartless,” and “Coldest Winter” may be, coming from a genre usually centered on ego and libido, I like the idea of Kanye exposing his vulnerabilities. Most stars of his stature are too busy pretending to be invincible. I’m pretty sure Kanye will be more like his old self on future recordings, but for now, I don’t greet 808s and Heartbreak with such vehemence as others seems to. It’s not his best work, but it’s arguably his most honest. For that reason alone I appreciate it.

When recently asked about losing his mother, Kanye blamed himself for entering the music business and moving to California, claiming his mother would have never done such things if not for his success. Just when you wanted to feel sorry for him, he interjected: “But don’t feel sorry for me – I just did a shoot for Louis Vuitton. Don’t worry about me, I’ll be okay in the end.”

For him to seek comfort in the very same materialism that led to his mother’s passing easily sets you back to that first image you had of him. But after listening to the album again and again…and a few more times just to be certain, you get the sense there’s a lot more to him than that. Here’s to hoping second impressions start counting a little more.

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The Cynical Ones.
posted by Michael at 0 Comments

Wednesday, December 03, 2008
1:11 AM


Ye Says

 


Since I don’t care to be told, “You’re going to burn in hell,” I tend to shy away from discussions about religion. I’m not as anti-religion as some of my friends believe me to be, but I know more times than not, if I ever do try to explain my point-of-view, it’s likely I’ll get the “Hell is hot, n-gga” type response so I try not to bother.

From my own experiences, very few people discuss religion in any way that deviates from the typical script, so I guess I shouldn’t be surprised that the guy who prides himself on being atypical would be the one person to talk about faith in a manner I can actually relate to.

"I don't want to be James Bond. I don't want to fit into this iconic figure that someone else has made. Just like how I don't want to be Jesus Christ. My whole life, they're like, you know, I was raised as a Christian, and they're like 'Be Christ-like. Be Christ-like.' I'm like, 'No! I don't wanna fuckin' be Christ-like. I want to be me-like. I want to be the best me. 'Cause you're gonna fall short of being Christ-like and then you'll never quite be happy. And then, you'll always feel like you gotta give up 20% of your money to try to buy back some of this happiness. It's like, 'No. I just want to be me."

OK, so I probably wouldn’t word it that way for fear of my mom bitch-slapping me with a book, but thankfully, after realizing he was going to get the clap back from Black folk, Kanye rephrased:

"When I listened back to the New Zealand conference I was like, 'Whoa this is
pretty harsh.' Sometimes I speak with no filter. I did not mean to be so harsh
on the subject of Christianity being that I was a well known Christian. When I
was at my mom's funeral a fucking stranger came up to me and said, 'I hope
you've accepted Jesus as your savior so you can see your mother again!' My
entire life, being an African American, Christianity was forced down my throat.
Since I was a child, I would ask questions like, 'So are little babies that
can't speak yet going to hell also?' I 1,000% believe in God, I believe in
Karma, I believe in being a good person. I'm not trying to tell people what they
should believe or not believe. To each is his own. I was in situations where
someone constantly used Jesus to show me how baaaad a person I was or how not
perfect or not Christ-like I was. When I say I don't want to be Christ-like, I'm
saying I'm fine with not being perfect. I'm fine with being a human being. I'm
happy with just that."

I know exactly what's it's like to see God and religion used more as a weapon than a source of solace. And I definitely can relate to being a curious kid having all of these questions about God and being told in so many words to shut up.

It took me a long time to realize that I can be a good person without being bound to any particular dogma. Going to church every week doesn't make you a good person; it makes you religious. The two terms are not mutually exclusive. It's good to hear someone that looks like me (he would Dale, I would be Chip of the Rescue Rangers) share that opinion.

Before he blew up and ran off at the mouth, I was a burgeoning 'Ye stan. I remember seeing him at Howard and appreciating him for…I don’t know, just being himself. I really liked him when he put Bush on blast (although I think George W. Bush hates all people).

After awhile you couldn't help but notice how self-absorbed he was, not to mention how arrogant and sometimes nonsensical some of his statements were. He was being an attention whore for the sake of. It works, but eh. Yet and still he often says things that people don’t say out loud -- which is why people either love him or hate him.

I still wonder if he was nursed too long, but I have between this, the AMAs, his interview with The Fader, and his comments about legendary status, I have to say I'm actually interested in hearing what he has to say again.

I only wonder how long it will take Pee Wee West to say something that will turn me off all over again.

Labels:


The Cynical Ones.
posted by Michael at 7 Comments

Tuesday, December 02, 2008
2:52 PM


They Put On

 


Jim Martin is a 63-year-old white man from Georgia. How uncomfortable do you think he is in this picture?

And just who put him on to Jeezy the coke man and G.I. T.I. anyway? His grandkids? Ludacris, I get because he's done movies (sorry, I doubt Jim saw ATL), but a Democratic senatorial candidate isn't someone I'd expect to see in the trap.

I guess if Barack isn't down for using his political capital to get this guy elected, three rappers will suffice in trying to churn out the Black vote.

I would complain, but why bother. People always say rappers don't do anything to better their communities and here three are engaged in the political process. You can't be mad at that. I still wonder if that old man left his wallet in his car, though.

Now that these three have hooked up with a would be senator, how long before Sarah Palin gives Frankie and Neffie a ring?

Edit: So Jim Martin lost...decisively. Probably should've booked Weezy for an event and asked T-Pain to record a jingle for an ad.

Labels:


The Cynical Ones.
posted by Michael at 4 Comments

1:29 PM


I Stan, You Stan, We All Stan

 



The thing about Kanye West is that while he often speaks the truth you don't want to acknowledge it because he has such a pompous and annoying way of wording things. In short: This dude proves a message can easily be lost by the messenger.

No matter how profound a given statement of his may be, he still manages to elicit responses like "shut the fuck up."

To that point:
"Nobody really wants to recognize that Beyoncé is a f***ing living legend and that she is just as great, if not greater, than the artists that we had in the past…that she’s probably greater than Tina Turner."
Judging from the responses I've read online, you would think he said I'll beat Tina worse than Ike. Already I've seen, "If not for Tina, there would be no Beyonce."

Duh. I don't think that's his point, though. Between this and the comments he made at the American Music Awards, I don't look at him as being disrespectful to Tina Turner and Elvis. Though it's hard to not argue that music has gone to shit, there are still quality acts out there. And when I hear him say Beyonce is a legend or he wants to be bigger than Elvis, I see it as him messing up legitimate points with his ego. But it doesn't take away from the truth of his comments.

Like it or not Beyonce will go down as a legend. She is the premiere entertainer of her generation. Sure, I would love for her to be of more depth, but she's an entertainer -- I don't look to her to explain the meaning of life while shaking her ass. Besides, there are plenty of older acts that are lauded now who never created anything like Songs in the Key of Life.

If people in their 40s and 50s can still break out into the electric slide while they wait for the microwave to go off I don't see why people won't be dancing to "Get Me Bodied" in a couple of years.

Whenever I hear people rant about the good old days, and "real artists," or who's better than x, y, z I laugh because it's exactly what the people before them said. Basically: Some people in their 20s and 30s are turning into their parents.

We look at Aretha Franklin as the Queen of Everything, yet you can find a couple of older folks who will tell you she doesn't have anything on Etta James, or that Gladys Knight's catalog is better. Some folks swear Florence Ballard trounced Diana Ross, and there's always some old fool lurking around that swears he was better than Marvin Gaye.

In the end, the narrative is the narrative. Beyonce will go down as a legend, so will Alicia Keys, Britney Spears, Michael Jackson impersonators like Justin Timberlake and upgraded Bobby Browns like Usher.

And even if I don't agree with it, Kanye might be remembered as one of the biggest voices of generation given the fact that only three major artists these days seem to have an opinion about anything.

More times than not artists aren't acknowledged for their excellence while they're at their peak. We like to wait until their two weeks away from death to applaud them, which is why so many older acts way past their prime are given big kudos at the Grammy Awards about two decades too late.

Kanye doesn't believe he and his peers ought to wait for seniority to be acknowledged if they're killing it now. Why should they?

P.S. Welcome to B-Unit, 'Ye.

The Cynical Ones.
posted by Michael at 2 Comments

Monday, December 01, 2008
10:54 AM


I Am...Sasha Fierce

 


Beyonce wants to be taken seriously. It’s evident in how she typically infuses terms like “timeless” and “classic” when describing her creations. Such a technique is derived from the school of thought that suggests if you repeat something enough it becomes true. It’s a flawed way of thinking given it never negates an obvious truth: Just because you say it doesn’t make it true.

That’s why no matter how many times she calls it the “most personal album she’s ever done,” I Am…Sasha Fierce is nothing more than a continuation of the same format used to create her solid debut album and even stronger sophomore offering. Try as she might to parade her catchy and often clever songs as something innovative, her sound is usually a representation of what’s hot at the time – only executed better.

There’s nothing wrong with that, but the methodology won’t get Beyonce the respect she wants. Neither will it make the schmaltzy acoustic-driven ballads found on the first half of her double concept album seem any less impersonal than they are.

The collection fits perfectly into the current trend of R&B artists opting for a watered down pop-leaning sound to help them crossover. Not that Beyonce needs the help in such an endeavor. She’s at the point in her career where practically anything she releases will get immediate airplay. Though such clout usually affords an artist the opportunity to really break the mold and push the envelop with their music, Beyonce instead pushes for songs that will get airplay on adult contemporary stations across the country – making sure whatever three people who have yet to hear of her will finally join the fold.

There’s nothing wrong with that either, but it suggests that the lyrics came from a business plan, not a personal diary. The set does offer highlights like the lead single “If I Were A Boy” and “Smash Into You.” The latter sounds designed for love scenes in teen dramas and ending credits for romantic comedies. There’s also the second single “Halo,” which will have audiences of every persuasion singing-a-long once it’s sent to every radio format across the country.

If you judged the songs on their own, they’re fine for what they are. But if you view them as Beyonce would have you – an inside look into the heart and mind of the “real” Beyonce – you’re left unconvinced. While skillfully crafted and arranged perfectly to highlight Beyoncé’s increasingly impressing voice, the real Beyonce seems vapid and underwhelming. She can’t be that boring, can she?

She’s not as long as she’s calling herself Sasha Fierce. That’s where you’ll find her trademark boldness and playfulness. It’s evident in tracks like the “A Milli” inspired, “Diva,” the play on pornography track, “Video Phone,” and the humility-dissing, “Ego,” where she boasts, “Ego so big, you must admit, I got every reason to feel like I'm that b-tch.”

Sasha Fierce may be sold as “something for the fans,” but if I had to choose which side I felt was the more introspective offering, I’d go with the Sasha for pointing out the biggest truth about Beyonce: She is so guarded to the point she has to downplay her naturally aggressive and sexual side under the guise of an alter ego.

That’s the real Beyonce and that’s what prevents her from the level of artistry she aspires to. As she’s proven with B’Day, Beyonce can take a bathroom break and come out with a good album, so imagine how I Am…Sasha Fierce could’ve sounded if she spent a year actually having live experiences over working with producers and songwriters creating them for her.

It’s not that I Am…Sasha Fierce is a bad album; it’s that you know Beyonce is capable of being of just as personable as she wants you to believe she is if she dug a little deeper. Her performances will be good, and this album will sell like the others, but will you really feel the lyrics she’s reciting to you?

Ironically, the few songs where you don’t have to wonder aren’t on her album; they’re on the soundtrack of her next film. One song in particular, “Trust In Me,” (please don't sue me) proves Beyonce can use her voice to draw empathy. Then again, it’s Beyonce channeling Etta James - yet another instance of her entering the recording booth with a character in mind.

Labels:


The Cynical Ones.
posted by Michael at 8 Comments