I have a bad habit of categorizing things too quickly. For instance, I hear a song and almost immediately have to assign it a rank. I listen to a song on the radio or television with what I consider to be an open mind, and classify it to one of two bins in my brain: “garbage” or “worth listening to again.”
At this point you may be thinking, “One time? You’re not giving it much of a chance.” But I only do that because the music industry has made me bitter and pessimistic over the years. I’ve been burned too many times by giving songs a second chance, only to realize that my initial reaction was correct.
Of course, a song that makes it to the “worth listening” bin may work its way up to superstardom on my list of quality music. Or it may strike out on the very next listen. It’s like a reality TV show in my mind. And whack!, songs get kicked off on a daily basis. It’s sad. These days you really have to search for the compelling artists.
So what’s quality and what’s garbage? The No. 1 song on the ring tones chart, according to billboard.com, involves our old friend Paul Wall. You may remember Paul from earlier. He’s the one with diamond teeth. And he enjoyed having diamond teeth so much that he decided to do a song about it!
For too long the uncomfortable subject of diamond teeth has been one of hip-hop’s deepest rooted and most enduring taboos. Leave it to a trailblazer like Paul Wall to address this sensitive issue with equal parts candor and caring. Now if only someone would step forward to tackle the issue of rappers who prefer velour teeth. Off in the distance, Nelly, doing his best Forrest Gump impression, screams, “Let you see my whuuhuut?”
And for anyone who ever wondered why music always occurs in clusters, like all the new hip-hop from Texas, the boy bands from Orlando, the grunge from Seattle or the crunk music from Atlanta, I’ll tell you what happens. One artist attracts attention, and all the labels who can’t sign that artist scramble to find somebody who fits the template. In short, one or two artists are the real deal, and the rest are lucky to fall in the same category.
I remember Houston’s first little rap renaissance, back when Suave records was selling Crime Boss albums, and UGK had just put out Supertight. Big Mike from the Geto Boys put out a solid debut solo LP. And then Master P put together his Down South Hustlers compilation, which I believe went a long way toward putting the South on the hip-hop map.
At the top of Billboard’s Hot 100 is Beyonc‹¨’s “Check On It,” which sounds like a typical Beyonc‹¨ song. I’ll admit the girl has talents, and making hits is one of them. But you can only recycle the same formula so many times.
At number eight is Jamie Foxx’s song “Unpredictable.” Which is an ironic title considering his album is anything but. What’s the easiest way to make an R&B album go platinum? Line up the hottest rappers you can get to appear on the album and market the impression that the R&B artist would have chosen those exact same rappers to collaborate with, even if they couldn’t pay a DJ to play one of their horrible records.
On the topic of horrible records, how did “Laffy Taffy” ever become popular? It’s like my man said, it seems like anybody can make a hit these days. All you have to do is stop playing the music you want to play and start playing the music that people want to hear. Appeal to the lowest common denominator. Which in this case are the girls who like to shake their butts to songs about girls shaking their butts.
T. Pain has a song out called “I’m N Luv (Wit a Stripper).” This song is garbage on a number of levels, but I’m not even going to get into the social implications.
First, 90 percent of songs with phonetic spellings in the titles are disposable. It’s been over 10 years since anybody was impressed by writing a song title the way it’s pronounced. I imagine the practice began with people trying to make their song titles stand out due to their spellings. Now all those song titles blur together.
Second, this song was written to appeal to the “Laffy Taffy” crowd. Once again, songs about girls shaking butts.
I know that any creative endeavor can be referred to as art, so this song is actually somebody’s artistic vision. But let me make a comparison for you based on this concept of what is or isn’t art. If a well-written, well-performed, well-recorded song is the musical equivalent to a Picasso or a Rembrandt, then T. Pain’s song is the equivalent to Web site pictures of cartoon characters in inappropriate situations. One type of art is meant to be taken seriously, the other is not.
We should all demand art on a higher level.