Unlike the Hot Sex genre, Sleaze is less concerned with having sex than with taking pictures of it, or trying to pick up the girls on the other side of the glass at the nudie booth, getting a pair of strippers into a three way, or any other form of sexual expression that is entirely focused on the singer's hedonism and complete shamelessness.
Though I always associate this with glam rockers from L.A, Sleaze no longer owes allegiance to genre (it's another area where hip hop picked up when hair rock faded) or location (if you're ever in Seattle, head up to Capitol Hill and you'll see what I mean).
Tuesday, November 30, 2010
Monday, November 29, 2010
Plain White T's - Rhythm of Love
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This is a nice singing voice, for starters, with some decent range, and I like the harmonies quite a bit... they sound like they've been sung by a singer, as opposed to plugging someone into the Harmony-O-Matic 2000 and setting it for “Major Chord.” I appreciate the human touch.
Maybe I'm coming down with something... Plain White T's are sounding okay to me, too (or at least giving me very little to complain about)
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*sniff* It's got an indie pop body, but I'm getting notes of Beatles and Beach Boys, with maybe a The Mamas and the Papas finish. It's got a very 60s nose. I'm not one for the desert whites (I'm usually a shiraz man myself) but for a sweeter wine, this'll do.
I'm certainly learning a lot about perspective through this project. Compared to my record collection, the albums and songs that I truly love, “Rhythm of Love” barely charts: I'd never buy it, and if it were dumped as an MP3 into my hard drive, I'd probably press skip if it popped up in a shuffle. However, compared to a lot of the toxic waste that clutters the Billboard charts, this is a pleasant little tune. If I gave Taylor Swift a pass, I'm duty bound to let Plain White T's through, too.
Again, I'm not keeping this one-- this is on the Delete side of the Keep/Delete scales-- but it easily strides past all of the land mines that blow songs from okay to bad to oh my fucking god. No autotune is a good start, and sounding like a song that was actually written is another; no one will mistake the music for karaoke backing tracks... because... is that a ukulele? It's got some personality, even if it is a little... er... “cute,” I'm willing to say that it's rising above the risible pack for more than just simple competence (and, seriously, competence is enough to outpace most of the songs I've reviewed). It's actually pretty good.
I can occasionally go overboard about bad rhymes (I'll let the shock wear off before continuing), but I'm really not that rhyme obsessed. Some of my favorite songs have very rhythmic lyrics that have little to no interest in rhyme... no, but I hate writers who pretzel-bend lyrics to try and force a rhyme, even if there isn't one there, and completely wreck any kind of flow the song might have had. This song opens with “clouds” and “down” not rhyming, but my attention is focused on the charming head-in-the-clouds picture being painted. I find the couplet “I love the view from up here / Warm sun and wind in my ear” more annoying; yes, “ear” and “here” are a stronger rhyme, but I think “wind in my ear” is kind of a clunky lyric that got dropped in for the sake of the rhyme.
That's the exception, though-- the norm is fairly clever, as the song is pretty gracefully executed. The drums come in at the word “drum” in the “my heart beats like a drum” lyric; this is a nice example of prosody, especially given that the drums don't come in on the one. The word is at the end of the line, so prosody demands that the drums enter on the fourth beat of the line. It's not as iconic as “Stop! In the name of love,” but it's well applied and shows some imagination. Ditto dragging out the “slo-mo,” which rhymes with the previous line's “low,” but complete the word “motion” into the next chord. These are all marks of songwriters putting some thought and creativity into their craft, and if it seems like I'm overselling this, go back and listen to the Blake Shelton song. Book ends, folks. Book ends.
I can't really explain the difference between “Rhythm of Love” and a song I would keep-- it's an intangible element within music, and it's part of an incalculable personal taste. I am pretty pleased with my week so far: Taylor Swift was better than I expected, this song was pretty good, and I got to skip out on Glee (yay! I got to skip out on Glee!)
Not a lot to complain about.
Stay with the song, walk away, or run like hell:
Sunday, November 28, 2010
Genre: Indie
Remembering that "pop," technically just the abbreviation for popular, has become associated with a musical type, I'm applying Indie in the same way. Since its establishment on the pop charts, the concept of Indie has stopped having anything to do with whether the artist was independent in any way. Indie songs tend toward the precious... you remember them from the soundtrack of Zach Braff's film career (Paul Dano's in those movies these days.)
Saturday, November 27, 2010
Taylor Swift - Mine
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If I give Taylor Swift a pass, am I going to hell?
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I think I've pre-judged Taylor Swift too harshly, because this song simply doesn't deserve the bile Rihanna, Taio Cruz, or (ick) Chris Brown warrant. She's actually debuting in the blog with the most palatable entry pop-country has offered me yet... though this might have something to do with it sounding almost nothing like country music. She's a pop star singing pop songs; there's some country in the harmonies, I guess, but there's a reason my genre/style labels are never “Dance” or “Rock” or “Country:” I'm trying to work with what the song actually is, as opposed the rack it calls home at Sam Goody.
My prejudice against Swift was born of all the jokes and causal digs regarding “unicorns and rainbows” lyrics, and I doubt I'll like that song if I hear it. Sure, this is a love song (I'm trying hard not to make that a Genre, because it could swell and consume the entire blog), but it's a story song first and foremost. Screenwriters, take note: it starts by introducing its characters, then it establishes and resolves conflict. I'm not calling Charlie Kaufman on the carpet or anything, but Taylor Swift (or, more likely, the songwriters she keeps locked up in her guest house) cracked a nut in three minutes that Kurt Wimmer's been struggling with for about five films now.
It bothers me a little that I'm stuck caveatting songs that aren't tragically inept and generically machined with “I don't like this song,” but giving “Mine” a Delete tag doesn't mean it's half as bad as “Mama's Song” or “Deuces.” There's some skill in both the writing and performance of this song. There's a line in the chorus, especially, that is pretty impressive: the “a careless man's careful daughter” is an amazing bit of writing economy. One quick line gives us an almost fully realized character, her current state, and her backstory. That's a pretty keen turn of a phrase, right there.
As for performance, I don't detect a hit on autotune on Swift's voice, which is always good. The thing that stands out about her, as I listen to this, is that she actually seems to infuse a bit of personality into the lyrics-- that's not a writer beat, it's the performer. While there are plenty of pop stars on the radio at any given time that can sing on key (or at least seem to), it sounds like Swift is trying to suppress a giggle during the line about “a drawer of my things at your place.” It's the kind of thing that sells a story, the kind of grace note that can't be written on the sheet music.
So... sure, it's a fluffy pop tune, and really not something I'd be anxious to listen to again, but it's done with some talent and skill. I've got to give it some credit.
It bothers me a little that I'm stuck caveatting songs that aren't tragically inept and generically machined with “I don't like this song,” but giving “Mine” a Delete tag doesn't mean it's half as bad as “Mama's Song” or “Deuces.” There's some skill in both the writing and performance of this song. There's a line in the chorus, especially, that is pretty impressive: the “a careless man's careful daughter” is an amazing bit of writing economy. One quick line gives us an almost fully realized character, her current state, and her backstory. That's a pretty keen turn of a phrase, right there.
As for performance, I don't detect a hit on autotune on Swift's voice, which is always good. The thing that stands out about her, as I listen to this, is that she actually seems to infuse a bit of personality into the lyrics-- that's not a writer beat, it's the performer. While there are plenty of pop stars on the radio at any given time that can sing on key (or at least seem to), it sounds like Swift is trying to suppress a giggle during the line about “a drawer of my things at your place.” It's the kind of thing that sells a story, the kind of grace note that can't be written on the sheet music.
So... sure, it's a fluffy pop tune, and really not something I'd be anxious to listen to again, but it's done with some talent and skill. I've got to give it some credit.
Stay with the song, walk away, or run like hell:
Genre: Ballad
I'm using the Ballad genre in the traditional sense of a narrative or "story song" instead of the pop shorthand of calling love songs "ballads." I know this conflicts with my definition of Power Ballad, but that's part of the literary cruft that holds this whole thing up. So sue me.
Friday, November 26, 2010
Gwyneth Paltrow - Forget You
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I'm only bringing this up now because, as I stated in post #1, I will not be reviewing anything from the cast of Glee, and I'm standing by that declaration. I'm only going off on my personal rant because Glee's cast is holding the #11 slot this week with Gwyneth Paltrow singing “Forget You,” which is, of course, the polite title of Cee Lo's “Fuck You,” currently at #9 on the charts. My pro-Cee Lo stance is no mystery on this blog, but I have to be equally as vocal about the fact that Cee Lo and Gwyneth Paltrow are now in direct competition on the Billboard top 20, and they're singing the same song. This is precisely the reason big music companies and radio stations are crumbling.
Cannibalizing what you're tying to sell as you're selling it. Are you sure that's a good idea?
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We're not getting a review for my #High slot this week-- instead, this spot is reserved for a music industry rant.
I remember several years back (2001-2003ish) when the record industry was complaining loudly about how their #1 record of the year had sold something like 1/10th the number of copies that a #1 record would have sold ten years before, and they blamed illegal downloading and pirating for their failing sales. The year's top 10 records, as far as sales were concerned, were largely greatest hits collections of pop star divas and collections of songs from the American Idol crowd-- this is what the big record labels were offering.
I remember several years back (2001-2003ish) when the record industry was complaining loudly about how their #1 record of the year had sold something like 1/10th the number of copies that a #1 record would have sold ten years before, and they blamed illegal downloading and pirating for their failing sales. The year's top 10 records, as far as sales were concerned, were largely greatest hits collections of pop star divas and collections of songs from the American Idol crowd-- this is what the big record labels were offering.
Somehow, nearly ten years later, they're still baffled by their failing sales. It hasn't dawned on these clowns that pirates aren't nearly as big a problem as their own personal failure to support, produce, and sell anything that isn't a greatest hits package or collection of cover songs people got to know on television. While the last fifteen years have been a boon to anyone who is willing to look for interesting music (they can find this music directly from the artists, in any genre, by way of independent blogs, internet radio, or even [gak] MySpace), they've been downright funereal for the big record labels, who keep shoveling the same drivel down the public's gullet and wonder why they aren't swallowing as quickly as they used to.
I say: good riddance.
When the companies shilling Music Product fail, music's not going to stop-- hell, music might experience a resurgence when product gets culled from the herd. We can all make and distribute music now, and without the moronic Big Business selling us 15-year-old girl pop... well, that could result in popular music becoming a meritocracy. Imagine that! Between independent labels and completely unsigned musicians publishing themselves online, internet and XM radio, and simple word of mouth, the whole world of pop music would look much like the current world of “underground” music. This probably wouldn't affect Cee Lo in the least, but may possibly devastate Gwyneth Paltrow's career as a soul singer.
One can only hope.
Wednesday, November 24, 2010
Natasha Bedingfield - Strip Me
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From the opening “la la la”s, I knew this wasn't the song for me, but the verses are backed by odd, loping, reverbed-out beats and the vocal melody has unconventional note choi-- wait a minute! Just how badly do you want to be Bjork? Seriously, listen to the line at 1:18 “My heart is like a loudspeak-e-ar” and tell me that not was not sung by someone worships at the altar of the diminutive, Icelandic, and weird.
There are worse artists to steal from-- I'm still giddy it's not another song built from an ancient house music loop CD (“everything you need to start making dance music, now!”)-- but the song descends into a bland and generic neverwhere in its chorus. I would honestly prefer more Bjork theft; these choruses fulfill the plastic lack of inspiration promised by the “la la la”s. I doubt it would be complete without the “oh oh oh”s she layered in there between the endless refrain of “You ain't takin' that from me,” which would be a more accurate title... but I can see why they went with “Strip Me.”
Yes, my prejudice is showing: I really don't like hearing about the La La Las or the Oh Oh Ohs. I had a bad experience with a La La La once, and an Oh Oh Oh just stood there and did nothing! As a result, I'm scarred for life and tend to react badly whenever a song glamorizes either of them. I'm probably going to need a good cry as soon as I'm done with this.
Moving on... the title seems to refer to an identity stripped of ego and fame, but I can't make out if it has any kind of point, or even perspective. We know she fights every day for all of her “future somethings,” but seems against wasting her life “earning things that I don't need, but that's like chasing rainbows.” So she fights for the things but doesn't want to spend a lifetime earning the things she fights for every day and... wait, what? It seems the “things” in question are career advancement and trappings of fame (it's all a bit dodgy), because the chorus focuses on being built up, cut down, and stealing pride... but she'll still be herself. Her exact words are that she'll “just scream,” which seems like a bit of an empty threat, considering the source.
Here's the tricky part: the bridge claims that “it's what you do and what you say that makes you who you are,” which is funny, because what she's done is become a pop star, but what the song says is that she doesn't care about being a pop star. Where does this leave her fighting wars for her future somethings and earning things she doesn't need? These are the things she say she does, but I have no clue what she's saying about the things she says she does... and I don't know what she actually does, other than be famous (which she says isn't important.) After declaring that your words and actions make you what you are, the next line is “Makes you think about it, doesn't it?” Well, yeah, but only because nothing she says makes any sense. I'm so confused.
The bridge ends with “Sometimes it takes only one voice.” Er... to do what, exactly? It's the first this song's offered about anything taking anything to get any result, and there's no hint of what it takes only one voice to accomplish. What are we doing, again? Much like the refrain, where she's “only one voice in a million, but you ain't taking that from me,” and we hear over and over that we're not going to take... what? She's proud to be an anonymous voice in the crowd, and that can never be taken from her?
Except for the fact that she's a pop star on the radio. Maybe the thing we can't take from her is her ability to never make sense... or maybe the one voice in a million refers to the person who wrote the song, whose voice we never actually hear. Or that we can strip Natasha of the people who write songs for her...
I'm giving myself a headache. It must be time to stop: I've already thought about this song more than I should, probably more than anyone ever has, including the people who wrote, recorded, and sang the damned thing, and it hasn't been a terribly rewarding experience.
Really, is it that hard to make sense?
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Compelling title. Is Natasha Bedingfield here to offer something to all the girls tired of stripping to Danzig's “She Rides”? Sadly, no... just a misleading name for the song. I'd probably enjoy the naughtiness implied by the name to the generic anthem we've actually got before us here, too. So far, I think these pop songs are best when they're hedonistic, silly, and over-the-top. I like music that means something, but these label-constructed songs, worked on by teams of writers, passed to a hip producer, and eventually given to a singer in attempts to expand their brand... meaning sounds pretty forced and unnatural coming from them.Play:Style:
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There are worse artists to steal from-- I'm still giddy it's not another song built from an ancient house music loop CD (“everything you need to start making dance music, now!”)-- but the song descends into a bland and generic neverwhere in its chorus. I would honestly prefer more Bjork theft; these choruses fulfill the plastic lack of inspiration promised by the “la la la”s. I doubt it would be complete without the “oh oh oh”s she layered in there between the endless refrain of “You ain't takin' that from me,” which would be a more accurate title... but I can see why they went with “Strip Me.”
Yes, my prejudice is showing: I really don't like hearing about the La La Las or the Oh Oh Ohs. I had a bad experience with a La La La once, and an Oh Oh Oh just stood there and did nothing! As a result, I'm scarred for life and tend to react badly whenever a song glamorizes either of them. I'm probably going to need a good cry as soon as I'm done with this.
Moving on... the title seems to refer to an identity stripped of ego and fame, but I can't make out if it has any kind of point, or even perspective. We know she fights every day for all of her “future somethings,” but seems against wasting her life “earning things that I don't need, but that's like chasing rainbows.” So she fights for the things but doesn't want to spend a lifetime earning the things she fights for every day and... wait, what? It seems the “things” in question are career advancement and trappings of fame (it's all a bit dodgy), because the chorus focuses on being built up, cut down, and stealing pride... but she'll still be herself. Her exact words are that she'll “just scream,” which seems like a bit of an empty threat, considering the source.
Here's the tricky part: the bridge claims that “it's what you do and what you say that makes you who you are,” which is funny, because what she's done is become a pop star, but what the song says is that she doesn't care about being a pop star. Where does this leave her fighting wars for her future somethings and earning things she doesn't need? These are the things she say she does, but I have no clue what she's saying about the things she says she does... and I don't know what she actually does, other than be famous (which she says isn't important.) After declaring that your words and actions make you what you are, the next line is “Makes you think about it, doesn't it?” Well, yeah, but only because nothing she says makes any sense. I'm so confused.
The bridge ends with “Sometimes it takes only one voice.” Er... to do what, exactly? It's the first this song's offered about anything taking anything to get any result, and there's no hint of what it takes only one voice to accomplish. What are we doing, again? Much like the refrain, where she's “only one voice in a million, but you ain't taking that from me,” and we hear over and over that we're not going to take... what? She's proud to be an anonymous voice in the crowd, and that can never be taken from her?
Except for the fact that she's a pop star on the radio. Maybe the thing we can't take from her is her ability to never make sense... or maybe the one voice in a million refers to the person who wrote the song, whose voice we never actually hear. Or that we can strip Natasha of the people who write songs for her...
I'm giving myself a headache. It must be time to stop: I've already thought about this song more than I should, probably more than anyone ever has, including the people who wrote, recorded, and sang the damned thing, and it hasn't been a terribly rewarding experience.
Stay with the song, walk away, or run like hell:
Genre: Stand Up
These things always show up in popular music: the demand for I Gotta Be Me and You'll Never Keep Me Down is never going to fade. Ironically, the Stand Up songs are very seldom written by the person singing the song and usually sound like they were composed by a Fortune 500 marketing department.
Tuesday, November 23, 2010
Drake - Fancy
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Would it be petty to start conjugating his doing verbs for him?
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My first time hearing this song, I thought I was in for an interesting, down-tempo bridge at the 2:45 mark... but the song never returns to its starting point. Like Hitchcock's Vertigo (or Mulholand Dr, or Full Metal Jacket), “Fancy” shifts gears at it's half-way point and never looks back. The music shifts to more ambient beats and synths that would sound at home on the Richard D. James Album.
Halfway through, this song gets pretty good.
It's a relief, too, because the first half is almost unbearably annoying. I know hip hop's origins lie in loops (and later, samples), but the synth loop sounds like a kid's failed attempt with My First Sampler™-- it's unpleasant rhythmically, timbrally, and harmonically, and it never... fucking... stops.
Halfway through, this song gets pretty good. It's a relief, too, because the first half is almost unbearably annoying. I know hip hop's origins lie in loops (and later, samples), but the synth loop sounds like a kid's failed attempt with My First Sampler™-- it's unpleasant rhythmically, timbrally, and harmonically, and it never... fucking... stops.
Combine that with the chorus that goes on about four times as long as it should: the endless repetition of “Oh, you fancy, huh?” is the least catchy refrain to cross my path in a while, and though there's a brief reprieve when it changes, it's not enough, because they're going to repeat the whole thing over again.
While the Ass Kissing category was for anyone getting sycophantic for any group, every example so far has been guys sucking up to womankind... but “Fancy” is actually the most respectful and complimentary of the bunch: it's all about successful women with brains as well as beauty, the women who don't need you to buy drinks for them, drive nicer cars than the boys, and college graduates with good jobs that might be able to loan a little money to their loser boyfriends. Ironically, the huh of the “Oh, you Fancy, huh?” sounds arrogant and dismissive to me.
I can't say I really dislike this song... I just think it starts badly. It opens with a refrain that bugs me and lousy music, but I think the second half is pretty decent and the song as a whole seems to genuinely respect women. A mixed bag, I guess. Since it splits in the middle, with separate call-outs to Los Angeles and New York girls at the half way point, I wonder if this isn't some exquisite corpse project between east and west coast artists... but I don't see myself spending a lot of time figuring out who, and with what allegiances, worked on which verse.
Last, the “she was fine, like a ticket on the dash” is the silliest pun I've hit so far. I'm not sure if I hate it or love it.
Stay with the song, walk away, or run like hell:
Saturday, November 20, 2010
The Ready Set - Love Like Woe
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Quote from the page where I pulled the artist photo:
"omg(: i LOVE THE READY SET thank GOD for JORDAN he is the love of my life!!!!!!!!!!!!"
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Even though I've been doing these reviews, I'm still a pop music hermit. I grab the songs, I listen to them, and I review them, but aside from hearing these songs, I still don't know anything about the media hype that surrounds them. So tell me: is the world awash in “The Ready Set go” jokes? I can't be the first guy that thought of that, because after hearing about 45 seconds of “Love Like Woe,” I think The Ready Set can go get sodomized by an elk.
Like, OMFG, I am waaaaay 2 old 4 this song. From the twee little voice that is meant to charm an audience that isn't me, to the oh-so-popular autotune twitches to every note he hits, to the lyrics about the girl who's a “pretty little windstorm,” a “sunset,” a “shooting star,” this is little girl music that makes Third Eye Blind's “doot do-doot do”s sound like sophisticated, adult writing.
Okay, let's find the picture.
Yup, a boy that looks like a little girl. Well, that's not a surprise... non-threatening is necessary to appeal the the glitter and rainbow crowd. Let's make The Ready Set go play spin-the-bottle with a hand grenade.
Funny thing is that, since it wasn't an artist name, I was expecting a group of some kind... but I'm gullible like that. This is obviously a teen boy pop singer writing songs for middle school girls (I'm sure the seventh grade lousy with Ready Set fans). There's no hint of a band here-- the electric drums, synths, and piano are all programmed-- so if it's a “they” and not a “him,” I can't imagine more diversity than a singer and a producer.
I'm willing to bet the love was “like, woah” originally. The lyrics are dim and annoying, and there's not the slightest hint of woe. I'm not certain the singer is aware of “woe,” but his marketing department was probably keen on it. No woe here, he's more focused on “the timing and the moment all seem so right.” Really? All those things seem right, huh? That's just redundantly redundant, and it's about as eloquent as Scott Stapp. Would you like to take her higher, too?
I suppose the benefit of hearing this song will come to me when it's parodied on the next Weird Al record (it really sounds like something Al would have fun with), but until then, I can't wait to see The Ready Set go to a Nickelodeon music awards show where they get beaten to death by a golf club wielding Willow Smith.
Like, OMFG, I am waaaaay 2 old 4 this song. From the twee little voice that is meant to charm an audience that isn't me, to the oh-so-popular autotune twitches to every note he hits, to the lyrics about the girl who's a “pretty little windstorm,” a “sunset,” a “shooting star,” this is little girl music that makes Third Eye Blind's “doot do-doot do”s sound like sophisticated, adult writing.
Yup, a boy that looks like a little girl. Well, that's not a surprise... non-threatening is necessary to appeal the the glitter and rainbow crowd. Let's make The Ready Set go play spin-the-bottle with a hand grenade.
Funny thing is that, since it wasn't an artist name, I was expecting a group of some kind... but I'm gullible like that. This is obviously a teen boy pop singer writing songs for middle school girls (I'm sure the seventh grade lousy with Ready Set fans). There's no hint of a band here-- the electric drums, synths, and piano are all programmed-- so if it's a “they” and not a “him,” I can't imagine more diversity than a singer and a producer.
I'm willing to bet the love was “like, woah” originally. The lyrics are dim and annoying, and there's not the slightest hint of woe. I'm not certain the singer is aware of “woe,” but his marketing department was probably keen on it. No woe here, he's more focused on “the timing and the moment all seem so right.” Really? All those things seem right, huh? That's just redundantly redundant, and it's about as eloquent as Scott Stapp. Would you like to take her higher, too?
I suppose the benefit of hearing this song will come to me when it's parodied on the next Weird Al record (it really sounds like something Al would have fun with), but until then, I can't wait to see The Ready Set go to a Nickelodeon music awards show where they get beaten to death by a golf club wielding Willow Smith.
Stay with the song, walk away, or run like hell:
Usher - DJ Got Us Fallin In Love
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And why are reviews of your songs directed to you personally? I don't do that for anyone else... not even Cee Lo, and I'm seriously considering buying his album.
The song actually has some energy and sounds danceable, which is a step up from the lifeless and boring “dance” songs I keep hearing. Pitbull's guest verse is raspy and crunky (he's not Lil Jon or anything, but he's a great change of pace), and, hey: I actually get the “boys get loose like Waka Flocka” reference. For as bored as I am with these songs, this is the best Club Anthem of the bunch so far...
Seriously, though, I don't want to listen to any more dance pop based on decades-dusty house music. Can you please make them all go away?
Damnit Usher, we talked about this...
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God damn it, Usher, I told you how I felt about this one-- back when it was crowding around the #3 spot (back when I was reviewing #3 as the "high" number Billboard entry), this was the first song I ever skipped. Now it's back, and I don't have a loophole that'll get me out of it this time. I'm blaming you for sticking me with this thing (after your redemptive turn last week).
The reason I didn't want to review this is not because it's bad, per se, but because it's so damned boring. I was already struggling for something worthy of comment the first time this song popped up... and that was before the last handful of stock techno club anthems. Seriously, what can I say about that ever present drum beat, the stock house chords, etcetera, etcetera? I'm getting bored just trying to list why this is boring.
So remember the last time we talked? I admit that song wasn't brain-bendingly awful, and I have to say I like this song less than that... but, post-Taio Cruz, I know just how lousy these Club Anthems can get so I can't hate this song too much: this song is a standard house-based dance pop song, but in the first verse, when the filter sweeps down on the synth's rhythm chords, it's an indicator that someone did some work on the music. It's still hanging out with the cliché I always complain about, but at least it doesn't sound like you're singing over a royalty free backing track you downloaded on a whim.
Oh-- and you're not fooling anyone: the carpe diem (I suppose it's technically carpe noctem) lyrics about how we all live tonight like there's just right now, keep downin' drinks like there's no tomorrow, and hey... haven't we met before? Dude, she knows you're just trying to get her into bed. You're going to have to search out midwest farm girls if you want to find a lady who hasn't heard that one before, and you're not going to find many in metropolitan dance clubs.
Seriously, though, I don't want to listen to any more dance pop based on decades-dusty house music. Can you please make them all go away?
Stay with the song, walk away, or run like hell:
Tuesday, November 16, 2010
Blake Shelton - Who Are You When I'm Not Looking
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And now, the worst rhyme ever sung...
Blake Shelton
Who Are You When I'm Not Looking
Ass Kissing
#99 (Low)
Nov 11, 2010
Earl Bud Lee
John Wiggins
Scott Hendricks
Who Are You When I'm Not Looking
Ass Kissing
#99 (Low)
Nov 11, 2010
Earl Bud Lee
John Wiggins
Scott Hendricks
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When the song starts, I get the immediate impression that Blake Shelton is the countriest dude to come down the pipe so far. The music's not rollicking at all, but it's mopey in a somewhat traditional, cryin' in yer beer way, with weepy pedal steel backing up a pretty straight forward guitar.
Then he sings.
And then I pick myself up off the floor and back the song up, because I missed most of it laughing so hard. For bad rhymes, Taio Cruz has nothing on this guy. He can rhyme “plans” with “dance” all he wants, as long as he's a buffer between me and this chorus:
My oh my, you're so good lookin'
Hold yourself together like a pair of book ends
But I've not tasted all your cookin'
Who are you when I'm not lookin?
Hold yourself together like a pair of book ends
But I've not tasted all your cookin'
Who are you when I'm not lookin?
I know he rhymes “lookin” with “lookin,” and that usually bugs me. “Lookin” and “cookin” rhyme, sure, but let's go right to line 2, where the laughter starts and just won't stop. What rhymes with “lookin?” I dunno... how about “book ends,” which not only do not rhyme, but also do not hold themselves together, if anyone wants to give Mr. Shelton a refresher course in irony.
Rhyming aside, that refrain is so badly composed, so nonsensical, and so fucking corny... I can't believe he sings it twice in the first 90 seconds of a three minute song. Yes, I get it: the cookin' in question is a metaphor for all the different facets of the woman in the song, but it's a really, really bad metaphor. It's a metaphor that could have been avoided if he didn't feel the need to open with “My oh my, you're so good lookin,” which is lame in its own right.
The rest of the song is basically sucking up to womankind, the best way Blake Shelton knows how: it's got bubble baths, painted nails, and phone calls to mom. It's definitely a song about the Ways of a Woman written by a man, but he's doing his best to show interest and play to the crowd. “You ladies like chocolate, right? Lemme hear it!”
For as bad as this song is, it made me laugh (and laughter is a good thing), and it does have the basic, bedrock quality of not sounding like someone raped country music in a Pro Tools session and handed it to a London producer. Faint praise, sure, but better than no praise at all.
Stay with the song, walk away, or run like hell:
Monday, November 15, 2010
Carrie Underwood - Mama's Song
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Hey-- isn't this the drum beat from that little keyboard everyone had when we were kids? I keep looking for the button that will switch this song off and play a Hungarian Dance in a tone that has only the tiniest resemblance to a flute, saxophone, or clarinet. That'd be fitting, I guess, for a song that bears only a tiny resemblance to country music.
“Mama's Song” is actually pretty funny if you think of it as a comedy bit on 30 Rock, sung by Jenna Maroney as a desperate plea for attention and pandering to audience sympathy. Actually, I'm having a hard time shaking that image: the song's so hokey and ridiculous that it was obviously written by either a genius satirist or an inelegant sap. I guess it's not Values Porn; lyrics about marriage, prayers, babies, good men, and good mamas could qualify, but I think we have to call it Marriage Porn for accuracy.
I didn't know Jenna Maroney had a mother/daughter song for weddings. Must be a 30 Rock tie-in.
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Hey-- isn't this the drum beat from that little keyboard everyone had when we were kids? I keep looking for the button that will switch this song off and play a Hungarian Dance in a tone that has only the tiniest resemblance to a flute, saxophone, or clarinet. That'd be fitting, I guess, for a song that bears only a tiny resemblance to country music.
This is going to be a theme for the pop country stuff, isn't it? These things sound like they're coming through a wormhole, tapped into a radio station playing “adult contemporary” programming 25 years ago. I wonder if they still leave spaces for Aaron Neville's guest verse.
“Mama's Song” is actually pretty funny if you think of it as a comedy bit on 30 Rock, sung by Jenna Maroney as a desperate plea for attention and pandering to audience sympathy. Actually, I'm having a hard time shaking that image: the song's so hokey and ridiculous that it was obviously written by either a genius satirist or an inelegant sap. I guess it's not Values Porn; lyrics about marriage, prayers, babies, good men, and good mamas could qualify, but I think we have to call it Marriage Porn for accuracy.
Some songs are grown in a lab, genetically engineered to serve a single purpose in a particular environment. In the way AC/DC's “Thunderstruck” exists solely for sporting events and Aerosmith's “Amazing” was designed for proms, “Mama's Song” was born to be played at weddings, where it will be serving time forever.
Since I don't have much personal stake in mother/daughter crying, and really can't be sold on weddings, babies, or Sandra Bullock, I have no starting point to begin engaging this song. To me, it sounds like a string of cheesy clichés, strung together over the blandest music imaginable, to earn it a spot in the widest variety of wedding receptions possible.
Maybe we can admire it from a marketing standpoint. (If you're into that kind of thing)
Stay with the song, walk away, or run like hell:
Genre: Marriage Porn
Pornography is defined as something with no artistic value designed to stimulate lust... so Marriage Porn is dedicated to getting people worked up over marriage. Like Values Porn, it has little on its mind beyond stimulating desire for the lifestyle it's selling-- it's hot and heavy for big white dresses, teary moments, and promises of eternal fidelity.
Usher - Hot Tottie
Fairly important: the formatting on this post goes to hell in most feeds, and it will be best read at ericonthecharts.blogspot.com
At least Usher sounds like he belongs in a club
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Usher! My man! So sorry for bailing on you back in October, but that “DJ Got Us Falling In Love” song had all the same problems Club Anthems I keep slamming up against have: it wasn't just bad, it was boring, and it because it was boringly bad, it was nearly impossible to write about.
Now, after that fucking terrible Taio Cruz song, I'm feeling much more Usher. This is an oasis of songwriting after the desert of suck that was Taio Cruz... but don't get cocky-- I skipped out on you before because that last song had the exact same problems as “Dynamite.” But we aren't listening to that now; now we are listening to “Hot Tottie,” and it's (literally) music to my ears.
Don't get cocky-- this isn't a great song-- but it announces itself right off the bad with massive, imposing bass, almost like it heard me complaining about the wimpiness of my previous “club” tracks. This bass sounds like it's ready to rock a club and get asses out on the floor. I wish I knew why that was so rare, but it's good that someone's got the good sense to make dance music that might actually make people want to dance.
It was actually a nice surprise to find a slinky, sexually charged bit of raunchiness instead of the standard “dance! dance! dance!” nonsense, too. I'm actually appreciating the break from stock club song structure: this tune slides along at a heated growl, and actually has the steamy energy to back its intentions up. Instead of blocky, raver synth and piano stabs arranged as stock pop progressions, we get a darker, minor key fluidity.
Some appreciation has to go to the lyrics, too-- it's kind of clever for the song to be about a bragging woman, and, while you're obviously game to get down to business, it's a little different for the guy to not be the instigator or seducer in these songs. Usually, it's the guy who's making all the claims and talking the girl into bed. I'm not blowing it out of proportion: it's not redefining gender relations or anything, but it's nice to have the story go a little different this time.
Okay, I've got to say it: I fucking hate the autotune. It's even a little worse here than in other songs because of all the soul-style vocal runs... these used to be a badge of a singer's skill, but it doesn't mean anything when it's been pre-programmed. It's just annoying... more annoying than a lot of autotune, and I'm usually pretty annoyed by it.
Also, I think the word is spelled with “d”s, like the California girl group The Hot Toddies. Maybe Billboard got the spelling wrong, idunno, I suppose that's just nit-picking, but... Usher, though I have to thank you for giving me a dance track that doesn't sound like the other generic club songs, and at least sounds like it belongs in a club, I can't say I really like the song.
It is better than so much of the bad I've heard, but being better than bad isn't enough to make me want to listen to it again.
Stay with the song, walk away, or run like hell:
Genre: Hot Sex
Saturday, November 13, 2010
Taio Cruz – Dynamite
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Well, “do” and “crew” do actually rhyme, but neither of them even come close to rhyming with “move.” Again, not only are these not tricky lyrics, these are not tough words to rhyme-- find a rhyming dictionary and see what comes up for “move.” Or better yet, “do.”
Ever wanted to hear someone rhyme "dance" with "plans" over lazily stolen house music? Here's your chance.
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The first and most obvious thing I noticed about "Dynamite" was the thuddingly clichéd bad-techno arrangement. How is the world not sick of this yet? I've only been doing this for a few weeks and I'm starting to have weird, Pavlovian negative reinforcement responses to anything that boonch boonch boonchs. I don't want to keep harping on my not hating electronic music (I don't hate dance music! I swear!), but the problem is the lifeless, lazy, boring recycling of the most mundane tropes of a scene that was pretty played out a decade ago.
It wasn't so long ago that music critics were claiming that Rock Is Dead, usually as a caption beneath a picture of the Chemical Brothers or Prodigy. The reason wasn't that the guitar was boring and the synth reigned supreme-- it was that the new electronic guys at the time were sparkling with life and creativity, and the rich and lazy rock gods were... well... they were the ones recycling boring clichés and churning out mundane retreads.
But here I am, listening to Taio Cruz... and it's just so... wimpy. I can't imagine anything this stale actually getting someone on the dance floor.
That's it: I'm writing a letter to Skinny Puppy. Maybe they can save us.
Even if Skinny Puppy came to our rescue and saved dance music from itself (wow-- I live in a really weird fantasy wonderland, don't I?), I don't think they could save Taio from himself. If we stop discussing the things that are always wrong with these songs (autotune, cookie cutter arrangements, boring beats), we're still stuck with the worst lyrics this side of Steve Miller. Observe:
I came to dance
I hit the floor, cause that's my plans
I'm wearing all my favorite brands
Give me some space for both my hands
I hit the floor, cause that's my plans
I'm wearing all my favorite brands
Give me some space for both my hands
First, only “hands” and “brands” actually rhyme... and this is not complex stuff. We're not turning interesting lyrical circles here. Trying to make dancing more than one “plan” doesn't actually help the fact that “plans” doesn't rhyme with “dance.” And seriously, your favorite brands? Okay, verse two:
I came to move
Get out the way of me and my crew
I'm in the club so I'm gonna do
Just what [censored] came here to do
Get out the way of me and my crew
I'm in the club so I'm gonna do
Just what [censored] came here to do
Well, “do” and “crew” do actually rhyme, but neither of them even come close to rhyming with “move.” Again, not only are these not tricky lyrics, these are not tough words to rhyme-- find a rhyming dictionary and see what comes up for “move.” Or better yet, “do.”
Apparently, finding something to rhyme with “do” was such a challenge, Taio just gave up and rhymed “do” with... (ugh. too hard to think of a rhyming word) with “do.” That good, right? Brain hurt. No more think of rhyme.
Okay, time for the chorus:
Cause we gon' rock this club
We gon' roll all night
We gon' light it up
Like it's dynamite
Cause I told you once
Now I told you twice
We gon' light it up
Like it's dynamite
We gon' roll all night
We gon' light it up
Like it's dynamite
Cause I told you once
Now I told you twice
We gon' light it up
Like it's dynamite
Beautiful, isn't it? But let's focus on my favorite part of this chorus: the “I told you once, now I told you twice.” This makes no sense... partly because he's only told us once, and has yet to tell us a second time, but also because it is obviously a filler line, with no real meaning of its own, and it still doesn't rhyme with the “rock this club, roll all night” it's supposed to match. This makes no sense: there's no shortage of words to rhyme with “night,” and (let's face it) “I told you once, I told you twice” isn't exactly the lyric holding the song together. Not only does it not make sense and not rhyme, but it also gets more useless as the song goes on: by the second chorus, he hasn't told us once... this is the third time he's telling us.
I've never spent this much time on lyrics before but these are just... so... stupid. I realize that dance music can have bad lyrics and still succeed, but that requires the music to be good (or at least energetic), and that gets us back to the start of this review. That a song this incompetent in every conceivable way is somehow popular kind of blows my hair back.
Stay with the song, walk away, or run like hell:
An Open Letter to Skinny Puppy
Dear Sirs,
While I'm aware that Skinny Puppy's reuniting and touring has been a success, I have also heard the side projects (such as Download) where synthesists and programmers stretched out to broader and less commercial horizons. If the cEvin Key and (before he passed) Dwayne Goettel were willing to stretch in the one direction, it's feasible current writing unit within Skinny Puppy could confront the other extreme and create music for some fashionable commercial acts. This would be an amazing benefit to both yourselves and the current climate of popular music today.
Though the history of Skinny Puppy is more abrasive and confrontational than anything likely to be on pop radio, much of the band's music was labeled “industrial disco” and features the heavy, four-on-the-floor dance beat that is currently in fashion in popular music today. Transmuting Skinny Puppy's gifts with synthesizers and original beats would be a boon to an music scene stale with 20-year-old techno clichés.
This may seem like an odd compromise, but remember: writers reap more rewards than singers. The benefits of penning a quality tune for the likes of T.I. or Usher would not only break a generic stranglehold on today's dance music, but also help finance future Skinny Puppy projects.
Thank you for your time,
Eric Charles
Wednesday, November 10, 2010
Eric Church - Smoke a Little Smoke
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And finally-- why is it so hard to find legitimate streaming links for these pop country tunes? There's a "media awareness" joke to be made here, but I want a few more country tunes to come up in my roster before I start poking fun. We'll see how the trends pan out...
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I have to lead with a flat out statement that I dislike this song, because if I don't, everything point I make is going to sound like praise in the wake of Rascal Flatts. I don't think “Smoke a Little” smoke is a good song, but it is so much less infuriating than “Why Wait” (the only other pop country tune so far) that it can't help but come up on top.
First, it begins with an acoustic guitar... it actually sounds like country when it starts. Of course, it's not country-- it's the same hybrid pop style (with synth flourishes and dance beats) as all the other generic stuff it'll be shuffled in with-- but at least when it starts, my first thought was “Country.”
Second, this song is not going to be endorsed by the Christian Coalition. If it's still light years from Charlie Daniels' “Long Haired Country Boy,” at least it's not Values Porn for them that think pro wrestling and Fox News are real. This is a Party Anthem, plenty proud to drink cheap beer and smoke weed... even though I have a hard time imagining a real good ole' boy drinking and smoking to an overproduced pop song like this.
It tips its hand that this won't be doing anything traditional when the song starts putting in the rhythmic, tempo-locked tremolo on the guitars that originally sounded country-- they start getting “Ana Ng” (or “How Soon Is Now?”) early on-- as the intro establishes itself with one guitar on the left, trading with a guitar on the right, and then a third guitar line in the center that sort of flies in for one little line at the end of each phrase... this thing was obviously just pasted together on a computer.
Through the first verse, until the big electric guitars and synths come in, I suppose this song could pass as the relatively-old-style pop country that Garth Brooks used to sell in the 90s (that's the most backhanded compliment I've ever given), but once all the massive pop production is rolling full speed, it sounds more Steve Winwood than Brooks.
...okay, how much of a descent was that? Didn't I start out with Charlie Daniels?
To back away from the hyperbole precipice, this is a considerably better written and produced song than “Why Wait;” they're both carefully studio-machined pop pieces that have only the remotest resemblance to Country Music, but “Smoke a Little Smoke” actually sounds like it was written by a person, as opposed to an ad agency, two marketing committees, and three months of focus groups.
Not to be shallow, but-- when did the country stars all start looking like hipster douchebags?And finally-- why is it so hard to find legitimate streaming links for these pop country tunes? There's a "media awareness" joke to be made here, but I want a few more country tunes to come up in my roster before I start poking fun. We'll see how the trends pan out...
Stay with the song, walk away, or run like hell:
Monday, November 8, 2010
Rascal Flatts - Why Wait?
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That really shouldn't even figure in, because this is just a pop song. I will give it points for featuring a band (hey! musicians!) and a singer who hasn't been digitized into oblivion, but... somehow that makes it worse for me. I know, I know: I'm a fickle bastard, but it's almost depressing thinking about a group of players physically churning out product. This song isn't better than Nelly's in any measurable way.
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And I thought anything would sound good after Chris Brown...
I actually didn't realize this was supposed to be country until the fiddle snuck in under the music-- with the guitar sound and the big, reverby 80's drums I thought an “Everybody Wants to Rule the World” kind of song had somehow ended up on the charts. Have Tears for Fears or INXS come back into vogue? Oh, wait: violin and a southern accent. This must be what gets played on the country stations.
Trying not to be a hypocrite, I'll admit right now that I have exactly two Johnny Cash albums, one Willie Nelson record, and two out of the three were released after 1990, so I am not a massive authority on country music. I will claim some bluegrass acumen; I've seen John Prine and love Gillian Welch's stuff with David Rawlings (one of my all-time favorite guitarists), but I fully admit: I am not a country boy.
From a certain angle, it's worse, because of its Values Porn implications. This fits a niche I've heard in the genre before: it's usually aimed at a very Christian Coalition, Morning in America sort of listener-- church going “old fashioned” folk who believe everything was simpler way back when, and don't believe in pre-marital sex or divorce. Personally, I think it's funny to advertise nostalgia for the Reagan 80's, whose defining feature was nostalgia for the Eisenhower 50's. This song isn't as overt as some, but it's definitely preaching to a choir... and I've had my fill of this preacher and this choir, and I really want them to go away.
So “Why Wait” is basically a marriage proposal, most likely an anthem to many highschool sweethearts who are finding themselves in a family way this year, but it manages to work in not just church, but even the fact that he loves your mamma (how can you not marry this guy?) It's as impersonal a song as any other generic pop tune I've found so far: this isn't a song written by a guy in love, it's a commercial for marriage written by an ad agency.
Stay with the song, walk away, or run like hell:
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