No Pain, No Gain

Life can be only what you make it
When you’re feeling down, you should never fake it
Say what’s on your mind and you’ll find in time
That all the negative energy, it will all decease

Mary J. Blige has built a career off of channeling her inner demons to create some of contemporary soul music’s finest recordings, leading to her amassing a huge fan base that’s used her music as the soundtrack to their own lives. Over the years, Mary’s been quite candid about her struggles with love – of self and others – addiction, depression, and overall happiness. Not that we needed her to: My Life, her most celebrated album, is chock full of love songs, though all sounded incredibly melancholy, an obvious sign of the pain lingering in the artist behind them. Many eager listeners shared Mary’s yearning to let go of all that ails her with the hopes of obtaining the happiness each of us is owed.

Since that album she’s told us several times that there was no more drama in her life – even going as far to spell it out in an album title – though not many believed her until she finally seemed to breakthrough. “Be Without You,” one of the most successful singles of her career is just as honest as those released a decade prior, only this time she wasn’t trying to convince us that she was happy — we could hear it for ourselves. Because of that, The Breakthrough, reignited Mary’s chart muscle after Love & Life – which saw her dip back in time and reconnect with Diddy – largely fell on deaf ears.

But now that Mary’s finally let go, she’s alienated a faction of her fan base, who vocally express their displeasure with Mary’s new direction, pressing for more down and out Mary over back flipping out of glee Mary we’ve come to see in recent years.

What does Mary think of this? Judging from the line, “No time for moping around, are you kidding?” from the first single off her new album, Growing Pains, the aptly titled, “Just Fine,” she could care less. This new Mary wants to stop wallowing in her own self-pity and enjoy her life. On the energetic single, she even boasts, “And I’ma still wear a smile if it’s raining.” That’s quite a contrast from the old Mary, who painted the notion of wearing a smile to guise her pain as quite the burden on “Everyday It Rains,” a gem from 1995’s The Show soundtrack.

No longer second guessing herself at every turn, Mary’s not only happy, she’s content. With her age. With her appearance. With where she is in life. This is evident in tracks like the self-love promoting, “Work That,” which features Mary stressing to young women everywhere to be themselves and love who they are. Let’s hope the message resonates with the current crop of new artists male and female alike, who thanks to an image-obsessed music industry, work in an environment where individuality has become an anomaly.

If you haven’t noticed by now, Mary’s in love and finds a way to champion it throughout the album. It sounds great on most songs, like “Stay Down,” but falls a bit flat on others like “What Love Is.” The latter makes the mistake sometimes done by Mariah Carey: Singing about love in the same context it’s discussed in a Sweet Valley High book. Still, Growing Pains shows Blige is in love and through songs like “Talk To Me” and “If You Love Me,” we’re assured she’s dedicated to preserving it.

Take your time, baby don’t rush a thing
Don’t you know I know that we all are struggling
I know it is hard, but we will get far

Despite Mary’s transformation, old habits die hard, and as previously mentioned, not every Mary fan is on the happy train, so the Queen of Hip Hop Soul manages to acknowledge for them and for herself that the fight towards bliss is an ongoing struggle with “Roses” and “Work In Progress (Growing Pains).” Both songs finely articulate that despite Mary being in better place, it took a lot of fighting to get there, and it requires work (and the right attitude) to stay there.

While Growing Pains is a good addition to the Mary J. Blige catalog, listening to it makes me think those who long for the days when Mary sang of struggles over triumphs may be a bit misguided. In some respects, while Mary has no doubt evolved both personally and professionally, much of the music released over the years is a tamed version of the hip hop soul genre Mary is hailed for creating. This is a result of her growing popularity in the mainstream. She now caters to a varied audience that includes fans of the days she sang with K-Ci Hailey and those who are only recently hopping on the Blige bandwagon after seeing her perform with Bono. Pleasing everyone requires quite the balancing act, but Growing Pains confirms that while it’s not yet perfected, it’s doable.

If you looked at my life and see what I’ve seen
Oh you will see that I’m so blue
Down and out, crying everyday, don’t know what to do or to say

Thirteen years ago Mary sang about happiness almost as if it were almost an unattainable goal. Fortunately she’s proved otherwise. Whether or not you can stomach her now cheerful demeanor, you have to applaud someone that’s pulled themselves out of their own nadir. She’s on a new journey, and if Growing Pains is any indication, it looks to make for an interesting ride.

Watch Him Serve

Take an AKA stroll and mesh it with the uncoordinated moves of a retard and a voguing queen and BAM you have latest dance craze brought to you by Grammy nominated artist (Ha!) Soulja Boy.

He had me with the Superman, but I’m not about to go to the club and dance like I’m checking my compact or headed to a probate for four minutes. Unfortunately, I’m sure millions of kids don’t care, so expect to see the lot of them dancing around like victims of a car crash in less than a month. Mind you the mastermind behind this dance is someone that posts videos of himself pissing off a hotel balcony. His success is like the revenge of every special ed kid in the country.

By the way, thanks to Brittany for pointing out how hilarious (yet sad) this video is when you turn the volume down.

Riddle Me This

1. When did Sho’nuff have children?

2. Are they the new Bee and Jay?

3. How do you think Michael Vick is feeling right now?

4. Did Chaka eat something off that boy’s plate?

5. Why did she fall off so quickly?

6. Is this the future of Jet’s Beauty of the Week?

7. Did Janet really have to tell us she’s heavy like a first day period?

8. What’s sexier than this?

9. Will this urinary tract-deficiency having pedophile ever go to trial?

10. Isn’t it amazing what a few butt injections can do for a person’s career?

11. Rihanna’s dad spit her out, didn’t he?

12. Why do I get the feeling she’ll request to be buried naked?

13. Are you ready?

14. Shouldn’t she just go back to them already?

15. Pepa’s going to be dropping it like it’s hot in the club when she’s 60, isn’t she?

16. Who designed this dress? Target or CBS?

17. How many more “Irreplaceable” knock-offs do we need?

18. Have we found this decade’s version of Da Brat?

19. Are they reaching or could you really see Tina putting this out?

20. Can’t we just be happy that Mary’s finally doing fine, fine, fine, fine, fine, fine, just fine…whew?

I’ve Found The New D.A.R.E. Spokesperson

I tend to look at Lil’ Wayne as nothing more than an over hyped walking RAID commercial, but I realize I’m in the minority. Still, could some of you Weezy F(*cks) Baby fans find this man a publicist? I get that Wayne loyalists treasure his pill-influenced, Mother Goose swagger jacking rhymes, but I don’t think the “positive” effects drugs have on his lyrics translate over to his interviews.

No that’s not Nutty Negro-itis, that’s ecstasy and weed. How does guest appearing on anyone’s track so long as they have a Subway coupon warrant a comparison to Martin Luther King, Jr. and Malcolm X? One of these days the spirits of MLK and Malcolm X are going to come back and bitch slap a lot of people. Please let them start with hip hop’s version of Dr. Suess.

When The Itis Strikes

Nutty Negro-itis seems to be going around as much as the flu and herpes. Once you catch the itis, your mouth tends to develop some incurable form of diarrhea, forcing you to spout out nothing but shit. The itis’ latest victim is none other than Civil Rights leader Andrew Young.

Speaking on the local Atlanta program, Newsmakers Live, Andrew Young shared his views on Barack Obama.

It’s starting to smell. Who knew the ages of 46 and 21 were interchangeable? Never mind that Obama is already three years older than John F. Kennedy when he was elected President. Not to mention George W. Bush is 61 and has the same level of sensibility as a reject from the short yellow bus.

Damn, his mouth must smell like the inside of Karrine Steffans after a train ride. “Every bit as black as Barack?” What exactly makes Bill Clinton so black to people? They fact the he’s shown his love for black art forms on The Arsenio Hall Show? The fact that his political transgressions can be summed up by Pac’s “I Get Around?” That he smoked – er, I mean, didn’t inhale – weed?

In that case:

Someone’s owed a lot of back Image awards. Bill Clinton is not Black, and if you think smoking weed and playing the saxophone guarantee an automatic ghetto pass I suggest you send me your name so I can enter you in the racial draft. You must be traded.

Bill Clinton is a charming man, but even if he were a passing mulatto, clearly Zora Neale Hurston was on to something when she coined the phrase “all my skinfolk ain’t kinfolk” as more black men went to prison under the Clinton administration than any other time in history. Not to mention he cut several social programs that benefited people of color. Was he a good President overall? Sure. Is he Black folks’ savior? Read up.

All this talk of experience translates as a career politician to me, and as Oprah argued while stumping for Obama over the weekend, “If we continue to do the same things over and over again, I believe we get the same results.”

As for the Obama bashing from the 1960s enthusiasts: I appreciate the sacrifices of people like Andrew Young, but he, Rev. Big Perm, and Rev. Baby Daddy need to stop thwarting the very progress they all fought for. Your methods no longer work. Adapt or move on. The itis consumes you.

We Still Don’t Care

After all these years, the closest Ray-J has gotten to escaping the shadow of his sister Brandy is a three-year-old sex tape with a celebrity-lusting ‘socialite’ with the personality of a blow up doll.

As you can see from the cover, Ray-J doesn’t plan to let that dabble in sexual voyeurism go
anytime soon. That makes him an even bigger lame than I ever gave him credit for. I suppose the adage, ‘if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it,’ applies, but all and all, it says a lot about you and your talent if a sex tape is your only legitimate shot at maintaining relevance.

I’m no fan of porn, so I’ve been reluctant to watch the much buzzed about sexual escapades of Brandy’s little brother and one of O.J. Simpson’s old defense lawyer’s offspring caught on tape. I think we’ve all noticed the wonders the tape has done for Kim Kardashian’s career. Though she claims to be “horrified” and “completely embarrassed” by the tape, she pocketed a cool million from the whole deal, which helped cover the cost of the butt injections needed to land herself the cover of King magazine — taking her goal of bedding every black male celebrity on the D-List to new and greater heights.

She’s also managed to score a reality show for her and her family, proving to America that attention whores are created, not born. With her little sisters skipping homework to practice swinging around the stripper pole in their home, and her mother latching herself onto to her celebrity – going as far as proposing a mother/daughter nude pictorial in Playboy – I understand where Kim gets it from. Sex sells…obviously.

It hasn’t done so much for Ray-J yet, hence the cover for his mix tape. The mix tape not-so-coincidently is being released just in time for the re-release of the infamous sex tape, complete with 60 minutes of additional “bonus footage.” To all of you out there that believe these two planned this whole thing out, shame on you. It’s such an invasion of privacy, why would they do it? Because no one cares about them, thus the only way those two could ever entice interest from the general public is to play off America’s obsession with pornography? Noooo, that couldn’t be it. Ray-J comes from a religious background and Kim, well her father represented O.J. Simpson: it’s clear these two come from two high moral backgrounds.

Last week I finally watched this nude publicity stunt, and that’s ten minutes of my life I’ll never get back. I only watched for ten, because I quickly became bored out of my mind. This is what people have been talking about? Kim just lying there, cooing like Malibu Barbie come to life while Ray-J “ironically” keeps looking at the camera, saying both of their names over and over again, surely hoping that this tape is never ever released to the public.

I’ve been more turned on by Blanche, Rose, and Dorothy discussing geriatric sex. That tape is yet another reminder of why Ray-J hasn’t been entertaining since The Sinbad Show. It’s a shame that anything remotely distasteful, desperate, and pathetic can be rewarded in this country no matter how boring it is so long as it includes crotch shots. May fate screw these two better than they screwed each other.

Bozo Battles The Pre-Op

In case you didn’t know, the self-professed Black Barbie is hood again. After spending a year in jail for not snitchin’, Lil Kim is now trying to reclaim her spot in a world of hip hop where in 2007, female rappers sell about as well as cassette tapes. So what is a girl to do? Beef, of course.

Who is Lil Kim throwing her publicity-generating venom at? Miss Conceited rapper shimself, Remy Ma. Is it wise to beef with someone known to shoot you in the stomach over the change from her order at Taco Bell? I would think not, but the Queen Bee doesn’t seem to care.

Somebody do what you do and translate this for me because at the end of the day, I can’t make out what the hell she’s saying.

I do know that either she’s a much better actress than Gang of Roses suggests, or she’s just that chick and isn’t scared of a woman who looks like she wears Magnums. Don’t let the duck tape fool you, Kim. Anyone else noticed that at the end of the video the most Kim could do with her face was squint her eyes really hard instead of actually frowning? Don’t get plastic surgery on sale, ya’ll.

If you head on over to Real Talk NY, you’ll hear Remy Ma not sound the least bit concerned about Kim.

Best line: “How you conceited? Like you don’t even like your own face. What are you talking about? Are you serious? I don’t believe you. You don’t like your nose, you don’t like your lips, you don’t like your cheek, you don’t like your chin, you don’t like your skin color, you don’t like your titties, you don’t like your stomach, you don’t like your teeth.”

Sorry, Kimmy, but Remy’s got you there. Though neither femcee appears to be afraid, I for sure am.

I don’t know which is scarier: Lil Kim’s face or standing next to Remy taking a piss and feeling embarrassed.

Umma Admit It

Back in August, I called Monica’s boyfriend and baby daddy, Rocko Da Don, black people’s answer to Kevin Federline. As you can see in the clip, I’ve been proven wrong as Rocko has scored a major recording deal.

It serves me right. When someone can kick off their single with, “Listen to this track, bitch!” and deliver clever lines like, “You make it sprinkle, I make it tsunami,” it should be no surprise to anyone that person is destined for stardom. What was I thinking? Too much haterade that day.

I heard “Umma Do Me” and considered him nothing more than a fake ass Jeezy, who coincidentally, appears on the remix, but Jermaine Dupri and the general public obviously see otherwise. Even MTV is catching on. We know how good MTV is at scoping music talent — just ask Lauren Conrad and Tila Tequila. Shame on me.

So, umma do me, and admit Rocko is a ringtone star in the making. I can’t wait to see Monica and Lil’ Rock in future videos. Speaking of Monica, I suppose with Rocko’s looming rap fame, it’s only a matter of time before these two are christened the new T.I. and Tiny.

Sweet James Jones

‘You ain’t never seen, how a pimp be oh so clean’

When you can be hailed as a legend at the age of 33, it says a lot about you and the contributions you have made to your craft. Though the masses may only know Pimp C., for his contributions to Jay-Z’s “Big Pimpin’,” and more recently, the single “International Players Anthem” with Outkast, southern rap enthusiasts know him as the main producer and most charismatic member of legendary southern rap duo, UGK. Before the mainstream caught on with “Big Pimpin’” those of us born in the Texas and other parts of the South were long reciting lyrics to “Take It Off,” “Diamonds and Wood,” “Front, Back & Side to Side” and “Pocket Full of Stones.”

I discovered UGK through my older sister and looking back, I was probably too young to be listening to them, but ahh well – I turned out alright. If you’re not up on UGK, know that they are pioneers, understand the fiery duo proved that not all southern hip hop is created equal, and realize without Pimp C. there would be no T.I. and a number of other southern emcees enjoying the mainstream success that UGK helped paved the way for, and was only recently able to partake in themselves. I’ve never embraced all of their lyrical content, and I’ve even written about Pimp’s sometimes nonsensical, possibly drug-fused rants like “Atlanta isn’t a part of the south,” but at the core, he’s a talented rapper and a pioneer.

It’s really odd timing to learn of Pimp C.’s death, since I was only reading the homie, Jason’s [interview with Bun B.] the other night. Bun spoke fondly of his friend, and revealed the two were planning to release another album next year, which would have marked their twentieth anniversary. The duo was also due to be featured on LeToya Luckett’s first single from her sophomore album. But, I suppose when it’s your time, it’s your time.

R.I.P. Pimp C. and R.I.P. to one of the greatest groups in hip hop, North and South.

Frankie Saves The Day

“Now pause for that Kodak/You hot, girl/You know that”

Now that Being Bobby Brown is nothing short of a distant memory in pop culture, and Paula Abdul’s tribute to denial, delusions, and depression on Bravo is over, I’ve had to search for a new show to make my guilty pleasure. Thankfully, that void in my life has been filled by Keyshia Cole, and specifically, her mother, Frankie.

Frankie has gone from the penitentiary to the pinnacle of reality of television. She may have smoked rocks, gone bald, and lost her teeth, but she is a bona fide star. Thankfully, the sales of Keyshia Cole’s debut album helped pay for her veneers and a few packs of wet and wavy so she could start anew. I bought Keyshia’s first album, so a part of me feels as though I’ve made a small but meaningful contribution to Frankie’s transformation. It’s just like donating to the Make a Wish Foundation, only for D-listers.

You can’t really tell in this pic, or the one above, but Frankie has been looking a lot better since her first appearance on Keyshia Cole: The Way It Is. On the first season’s finale she spoke as if she had an order of mashed potatoes stuck in her mouth, but new teeth has given her better diction. Somewhat.

I will say that Frankie needs to stop leeching off the daughter she abandoned (but don’t bring that up — she hates it) and put her new hair and teeth to use at someone’s temp agency. If Neffie can get a job, so can Frankie. Sometimes I worry that season four of this show might chronicle Keyshia’s new found struggles in the poor house after spending too much money on her kinfolk. Coattail riding aside, Frankie is engaging.

She’s loud. She’s angry. She’s spontaneous. She sometimes makes you want to dip your head in shame, because you realize the world is watching this, partially molding their perception of all who look like you. But then you pick your head back up long enough to see what she does next.

And if you missed it the first time it was posted:

Need I say more? She’s battled her addiction and found a new lease on life, which includes providing me with my latest fix. She’s an entertainer. I might even be down for a spin off. As Frankie would say, Holla!