Bruno Mars - Marry You

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I'm saying "No no no no no"

Bruno Mars
Marry You
Marriage Porn
#98 (Low)
Dec 16, 2010
Bruno Mars
Plilip Lawrence
Ari Levine
The Smeezingtons

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It just gets worse and worse! If this song had balls, it would be receiving quick, repeated kicks until it crawled, whimpering, back into whatever kind of hole spews this annoying junk forth. I know I usually wait until discussing the song a little bit before digging into lyrics, but when the refrain is “Don't say no no no no no, just say yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah, and we'll go go go go go, if you're ready,” you don't want to bury the lead: that's precisely how stupid this song is.

I'm sure proposals scored by this thing are conducted by people who would look down their nose at Rascal Flats, but “Marry You” is even more frustrating because it's so smug and cutesy. It's no less Marriage Porn for it, either, complete with churchbells (which I think are playing the bell melody from They Might Be Giants' “The Bells Are Ringing” in the chorus, and “I Melt with You” in the intro) in the arrangement.

It's a beautiful night
We're looking for something dumb to do
Hey baby, I think I wanna marry you
Is it the look in your eyes
or is it this dancing juice?
Who cares, baby
I think I wanna marry you

Since it contains the title, I'm going to assume the “Hey baby, I think I wanna marry you” part is the chorus, though the “just say yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah” stuff is repeated about as often (and was probably the hook that sold the single). Regardless, it sounds awfully condescending-- getting married is his idea of something dumb to do, just to pass the time, and he's not even certain if this whim is inspired by the girl or the drink.

Quick answer: if you're not sure if it's the booze or not, you're too drunk to be making a decision like this. Do us all a favor and sleep on it.

Also, for a song called “Marry You,” I don't think there's a single mention of love.  It is vocally in support of letting the choir bells sing "like ooooh," (which, by the way, is not the sound bells make), but it doesn't have anything to say about love.

The repetition of the two parts I've already quoted make up most of the running time of the song, but one of the few other lines is “Who cares if we're trash, got a pocket full of cash we can blow.” I'm sure it's meant to be quirky, but it's probably also an honest reflection of what the writers think of their audience.

I haven't mentioned it in a while because I don't want to repeat myself by continually harping on Autotune, but this is an example of the other way it can be misapplied... like Billy Joel singing the national anthem (okay, maybe it's not that bad), no one's trying for a stylish effect here; the voice is just being jerked into key every time he drifts a bit. He's probably not a bad singer, but forcing this vocal part into computer perfection sounds painfully imperfect.

On the other hand, we should be thankful when we hear the autotune engage on that howling, hound dog summoning “Just say 'I dooooooooooo.'” I'm betting autotune is the lesser of two evils in that case.

 

RUN!

Stay with the song, walk away, or run like hell:

George Strait - The Breath You Take

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I heard they put the dog to sleep in the extended version for added weepiness.

George Strait
The Breath You Take
Hallmark
#66 (LoMid)
Dec 16, 2010
Dean Dillon
Jessie Jo Dillon
Casey Beathard
Tony Brown
George Strait

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O cruel fate, is this my punishment for disparaging the trivial but unoffending “Aston Martin Music?” To feel the terrible sting of George Strait sappiness? Lo, the heartfelt drama, presaged as it was by the naming of Hallmark as a genre, the tumultuous forces use my own designs to wreak terrible revenge!

Seriously, though, “The Breath You Take” is even more overwrought and dramatic than any corny prologue I could type. It's picking some low hanging fruit, too: like Carrie Underwood bet song sales against mother/daughter wedding dances, Strait's going even wider... everyone's got a dad, right? (go ahead, be a jerk; start listing exceptions) Point is: this kind of thing has a massive, built-in market, especially in family values-friendly country music.

This song deserves some ire for its stunningly uninventive sappiness. Prefect Dad (a new superhero, it seems) comes to your baseball game even though he had a plane to catch and came to your daughter's birth even though he didn't have to. His theory: “Life's not the breath you take, the breathing in and out... but the moments that take your breath away.” That's all fine (though I could mention the importance of breathing in and out), but it seems baseball and a trip to the ER waiting room are the width and breath of Strait's image of Perfect Dad.

The implications of both events are “it was inconvenient for me to be here, but I came anyway,” but they're sung in such a way to evoke a kindly, country gentleman. Both are things a father simply ought to do (if you put your kid in an activity, attend the activity. Oh, and don't skip out on the birth of your grandkids), but they're given maximum schmaltz by making sure Perfect Dad has sacrificed something to do them... and if this isn't bald fiction composed by professional songwriters, I'll be shocked. These scenarios were invented for maximum Hallmark effect: you have to love Perfect Dad, because when Strait kills him in the third act, he wants you to feel it.

Sort of. George Strait didn't write this-- we can blame him for singing it, but he didn't add a single word to the Mortality of Perfect Dad tearjerker.  There's a team of three writers, raised on a steady diet of "Cat's in the Cradle" and loved-one-dies-of-cancer movies, to blame for that.

Musically, it's pretty rote... It's got the exact same structure as any Backstreet Boys song you'll find. Who would have guessed there's be a modulation into the bridge? Or that the following chorus would be stripped down when it returned? On one hand, these conventions have served plenty of good songs, and we should all be thankful Strait (producer and Pure Country icon) didn't squeeze in a drum machine for a dance pop bastardization.  On the other... who composed those strings?  Aaron Zigman?  It sounds like we're watching a Nicholas Sparks adaptation in here, these are the violins that score Mandy Moore's lukemia.

I guess I agree with one aspect of this song: we really should treasure the moments that make life worth living, but none of those moments involve listening to this phony and overwrought treacle.

RUN!

Stay with the song, walk away, or run like hell:

Rick Ross - Aston Martin Music

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Slightly less cool than 007's car.  Can we rename it "Toyota Corolla Music?"

Rick Ross
Aston Martin Music
Bragging
#33 (HiMid)
Dec 16, 2010
Rick Ross
Drake
Chrisette Michelle
JUSTICE League

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The top of the charts are looking like a parking lot right now, so, sorry... no High spot this week: tracks 8-14 are all songs I've already reviewed. Just as well, since it's taken me a long time to try and write about “Aston Martin Music,” and I'm not sure why. Either it's basically a dial-tone that just refuses to make any marks on my brain, or I've got a teflon coating for this kind of thing.

Shame, because the branding in the title works for me; I was looking forward to this song. I get why, like Scarface and the Corleones, Bond lives large in hip hop culture: he's unbeatable in a gunfight, irresistible to women, and lives the high life (tailored clothes, the finest food an drink, and a slick car). Even if most of the movies are lousy (out of over 20 movies, there's about a 1-5 quality ratio), the character himself is always an ideal: James Bond is SuperGangsta.

This song is desperately lacking in its Bondness: not smooth, fancy, or dangerous. The music doesn't evoke an Aston Martin... this is Honda Accord music. Honestly, if you stripped all the vocal parts away, it's a track Kenny G would have no trouble soloing over. Designed to be medium-tempo and non dynamic, it's one real flourish is a hard stop (“Ballin!”) that sounds so awkward it makes me feel bad for complaining about the lack of changes: if that's what you're doing for variety, we can probably do without. They sweep down some filters on the beats for the chorus... but I doubt that would throw Kenny G's game.

I kept listening to the song trying to focus on the lyrics, but the whole thing is... just... so... boring. I get that the verses are all Bond: guns, girls (who take orders from you, no less: she calls you “boss” while you “listen to the yeah yeah yeahs”), convertibles, and lots of money, but Rick Ross never seems to complete a thought. The verses switch from one idea to the next without any connective tissue, as if Ross is as bored as I am, tuning out after a line and a half and starting over. The chorus is just a constant repetition of the song title in robotic monotone: no melody or rhythm at all.

There's no way to work up any real hatred for a song so bland you can barely remember it as soon as it's done playing, but I have to give this one a Run because it's a lousy song without any redeeming qualities (at least Wiz Khalifa and Blake Shleton were so bad they were funny). Does “Aston Martin Music” have an excellent video? I must be missing something, because I have no idea why this song is popular.

RUN!

Stay with the song, walk away, or run like hell: