Wednesday, December 28, 2005
2005 is Rap Time
2005 will go down in history as the year in which rap was discovered. Last Sunday, December 11th, in particular, is the very day on which this momentous event occurred. Before last Sunday rap was something you'd hear at parties or nightclubs, and maybe occasionally enjoy, but never really "get", culturally, in the way that you inherently understand, say, wanky, noodly, instrumental math-rock, or tastefully melodic indie-rock played by goat-voiced lit majors. After 2005, though, rap is fair game for the sallow and/or bespectacled, and I, for one, am proud to have helped open this astonishing new vista for all of you out there in wrongheaded-opinion-laced internet-land.
Here are a few rap singles worth searching for, in case you are interested in accompanying me on this exhilarating new musical journey. MTV2's Sucker Free Sunday Top 20 Countdown is a good place to start; in fact, all these songs were on this past Sunday's countdown.
"Georgia", by Field Mob feat. Ludacris: I like it because it's about Georgia.
"Flossin'", by Mike Jones feat. Big Moe: "My album / Who is Mike Jones / coming soon / my album / Who is Mike Jones / coming soon" is the lyric of the year, just narrowly beating out "Mike Jones! / who? / Mike Jones!".
"Stay Fly", by the Three 6 Mafia: This is truly one insidiously catchy hook. It's been stuck in my head since Sunday. And although he doesn't put in the best verse, Crunchy Black will always be first in my heart.
"Heard 'Em Say", by Kanye West feat. Adam Levine: This one's beautiful enough for a mother or school-teacher to like. I am so totally not threatened by this song.
"Laffy Taffy", by D4L: A third-grader could write this song. And they'd probably at least have the good sense to realized it sucked within five minutes or so.
"Window Shopper", by 50 Cent: I fully endorse 50's beverage choices, but his musical taste leaves much to be desired. There's little of the wit or musical deftness found in the work of people like Jay-Z, Ludacris, or Stephen Wiley. I will admit that 50 does have one hell of a smile, though, and his rippling muscles stir strange feelings of desire and longing within my tender loins.
2005 will go down in history as the year in which rap was discovered. Last Sunday, December 11th, in particular, is the very day on which this momentous event occurred. Before last Sunday rap was something you'd hear at parties or nightclubs, and maybe occasionally enjoy, but never really "get", culturally, in the way that you inherently understand, say, wanky, noodly, instrumental math-rock, or tastefully melodic indie-rock played by goat-voiced lit majors. After 2005, though, rap is fair game for the sallow and/or bespectacled, and I, for one, am proud to have helped open this astonishing new vista for all of you out there in wrongheaded-opinion-laced internet-land.
Here are a few rap singles worth searching for, in case you are interested in accompanying me on this exhilarating new musical journey. MTV2's Sucker Free Sunday Top 20 Countdown is a good place to start; in fact, all these songs were on this past Sunday's countdown.
"Georgia", by Field Mob feat. Ludacris: I like it because it's about Georgia.
"Flossin'", by Mike Jones feat. Big Moe: "My album / Who is Mike Jones / coming soon / my album / Who is Mike Jones / coming soon" is the lyric of the year, just narrowly beating out "Mike Jones! / who? / Mike Jones!".
"Stay Fly", by the Three 6 Mafia: This is truly one insidiously catchy hook. It's been stuck in my head since Sunday. And although he doesn't put in the best verse, Crunchy Black will always be first in my heart.
"Heard 'Em Say", by Kanye West feat. Adam Levine: This one's beautiful enough for a mother or school-teacher to like. I am so totally not threatened by this song.
"Laffy Taffy", by D4L: A third-grader could write this song. And they'd probably at least have the good sense to realized it sucked within five minutes or so.
"Window Shopper", by 50 Cent: I fully endorse 50's beverage choices, but his musical taste leaves much to be desired. There's little of the wit or musical deftness found in the work of people like Jay-Z, Ludacris, or Stephen Wiley. I will admit that 50 does have one hell of a smile, though, and his rippling muscles stir strange feelings of desire and longing within my tender loins.
