Park across the street, laughing
Topics for your consideration:
Stylus Magazine has a great and obsessively complete report on the summer in American teenpop running right now. That kind of shit makes me want to write for them. One of the groups featured is The Jonas Brothers, who are 2006 Hanson Brothers with better writers. I can’t imagine they actually played on many of these recordings, but the image is cute and not too groomed. This has got to be a shit your pants cool lifestyle for these kids, which is apparent in how damn excited they are to be making music. If you’ve never associated Jesse McCartney with being a decent singer, turn away now. It’s fun, not perfect.
You know just when you forget about Royce Da 5’9″ he pops back up and looks at you eye-level. The beat of “Ding,” his new single is classically-styled DJ Premier, blushing melodrama with tough ass samples. Rarely does a bassline have so much bounce and resonance in hip-hop these days. At times Royce works his rhymes tightly and characteristically strange, like Nas not taking himself seriously (or perhaps later day De La Soul?). A few times he drops T.I. catchphrases (“I’m a stand up guy,” “what you know about that?”) without reason, and doesn’t take them anywhere. It’s his own images, like killing like a proverbial ice storm (and not Jacob the Jeweler, ok) that score Royce the love. The samples dry out a few repetitions in, but the song is great layed back hip-hop from Mr. Undercover.
At first I thought it was my laptop speakers and now I’m hoping it’s just a bad .mp3, because the new A.M.P.s remix of Pharrell’s “Number 1” is tragic. My copy first off sounds like it was recorded from a tape dub, a broadcast from clock radio speakers. But that’s not the problem. I acknowledge that Pharrell picks slightly unusual key signatures to sing in, but as the A.M.P.s signature solution is to rewrite the entire instrumental, they had the chance to fill all the key signature crags with notated putty. Unfortunately the A.M.P.s chose an unflattering key to write in, and Pharrell’s voice creaks in and out of focus on the track. The snap drum and slick funk don’t sit well with me either — it sounds too much like a cheesy mash up for giggling white boys. I suppose ol’ Skateboard P deserves a nod for writing a song few others can back as efficiently as he.
If I were to have a party tomorrow, the first person I’d ask to slang vinyl is my friend DJ Tornado. He’s got a bunch of mixes up on his site, but tonight’s bluelight special is the Hall & Oates greatest hits slab. Twirl your moustache and dance!
The automotive love of hip-hop videos finds its stoner metal mirror in the clutch masturbation that is the video for Earth’s “Tallahassee.” The woozy doom riffs plod along to sweet footage of motor cars and, gasp, a plot. Thanks to Karl (read 8.22) for pointing this out to me.