Never Ever (Be Her)

I have had this long stemming debate with a friend of mine: Whether or not an artist’s personality should factor into how you feel about them and their music.

I get the feeling I don’t articulate my position well enough, so here it goes: I judge the music solely on merit, but as far as wanting to monetarily support an artist, if I don’t like you, I don’t want to support you.

But, I have to say, I do believe personality matters when you’re an artist to some degree. If you’ve never experienced anything, it’s evident in your material – particularly the way you perform it. Yes, that one is about Beyonce.

Anyway, another example would be if you don’t know who you are, everything about you – I’m talking image, sound…everything – will stick out.

The more I look and listen to Ciara, the more I think that one applies to her. She reminds me of what I can’t stand about so many contemporary artists these days. They all try too hard to get us to view them in a certain light versus simply being and letting us draw our own conclusions.

Why can’t artists wait for us to tell them that they’ve matured, that they’ve made a classic, that they’re icons in the making? If they’re so dead set on telling us everything, why don’t they go out and buy their own albums? (Edit: Some of them do that already, don’t they?)

It’s as if so many want all the accolades of their predecessors but don’t want to put in any of the time or work for it.

Ciara’s been dropping brick after brick for months now, and it’s funny to me how it has yet to dawn on Ciara or any of her handlers what the problem is.

When she made her way onto the scene a few years ago, she was different. Yes, she reminded people of Janet and Aaliyah. Indeed she did have the same blond extensions as Beyonce and those that sought to match her success at the time. But her music had virginal quality to it, and while she didn’t appear as polished as her peers, that actually aided her.

She looked like someone who didn’t know exactly who she was yet, but she loved performing and put her all into it. The ‘Crunk n B’ title was an obvious gimmick, but it worked because no one else was doing it at the time.

Now look at her. What has she done to her face? Don’t worry, I figured out what’s different about her chest. The face, however, is still a mystery to me. Her face has a “freshened up” quality to it now. Something you would find in a 40-year-old woman.

She looks like her name should be Cruella De Crunk.

She comes across as someone who doesn’t know what they want to be. You can as much by her new music, which has been all over the place.

If I were responsible for her, I would have told her to stick with the formula that worked. Remember when artists knew better and did just that?

Had Ciara let her natural progression into a sex symbol happen naturally she might not be in the predicament she’s in now: One flop away from total irrelevance.

I actually liked “Go Girl,” but I can see why it failed. Her image is way too contrived to come across as believable. Not to mention she made herself look silly appearing naked in VIBE then accusing them of digitally altering her pictures to make them look more suggestive. Does evidence of a thong make a topless spread appear classier?

Cici reminds me of that girl that went above and beyond to try to fit in at school. Those types are usually the ones everyone ends up laughing at. I would laugh along, too, if she and one of her producers would take themselves less seriously. Polow says he and Ciara are like Timbaland and Aaliyah.

If you’re old enough to remember all Aaliyah did in the 90s, you’re either laughing or sighing.

Have ya’ll listened to “Never Ever?” That’s Ciara’s third first single produced by Polow. It sounds like “Love In This Playpen.”

“One In A Million” it isn’t.

It is to Polow, though:

“And one thing people do say about when I work with Ciara is that I make her sound better than ever,” he continued. “I make her sound like a vocalist versus the other stuff she may do that’s more performance, where she can get on the dance floor. It’s kind of the same thing with Aaliyah. She may not have been the best singer, but her voice was so unique and her sound — she had her own lane, and I think Ciara is like that same thing.”

I get what he’s trying to say, but no all the same. OK, so Aaliyah wasn’t exactly a songbird on every occasion. I saw her in concert, so I know every once in a while she may have sung like a bullfrog was kicking in the back of her throat. But, Polow Da Don is a producer for Ciara. On Aaliyah’s worst day, Ciara still makes her look like Whitney at her prime.

Beyond the obvious vocal disparities, this is all yet another example of artists being way too self-congratulatory.

I’m tempted to lead a séance to try and get the spirit of Aaliyah to curse Polow Da Don out and give Ciara some advice on genuine artistic growth.

Anyone down for joining me?

Stan Game Not So Proper

Listen. Im guessing you some pressed queen that aint had no dick in a minute and is fiening but keep Janets name out your mouth mothafucka. Wack ass blog.

I would normally ignore these sort of comments, but since I need to keep the posts coming, I might as well entertain this.

I say this respectfully: Get a life in 2009. I know what it’s like to be an eager fan, but seriously, if the celebrity you’re stanning for doesn’t claim you as a dependent on their taxes, they probably could give two shits about you.

They don’t know you’re alive, and even if your existence were brought to their attention, they’re not hooking you up for defending them on the internet to someone they don’t care about either.

Repeat after me, Dioni: “I, Dioni, super stan of Janet Jackson, will stop acting as if Janet Jackson nursed me at birth.”

If you’re stanning for Janet Jackson in 2009, chances are you remember buying cassette tapes. And if you’re old enough to remember that then there’s no way in hell I’m taking you seriously simply because I know you’re too old to care so much.

Besides if you’re going to get e-gully with someone via font, be better at it. A Janet Jackson stan trying to emasculate me doesn’t hurt my feelings. No, it makes my dick laugh.

Think of something else to say. I don’t know, tell me the next time they play “Feedback” in the club (ha), may I get kicked in the head. Whatever. You get what I’m saying. Or maybe learn to take a joke. Whatever’s clever, homie.

Now go forth and have a Happy New Year, Jermaine Dupri and/or Randy Jackson.

Do Yo Dance


It’s a shame that Aubrey’s career is officially on death watch now. As of yesterday, this fun animation was brought into my life, and naturally, I’ve fallen in love. I have a special affinity for people who can drop it. I myself have been known to get low on occasion. I believe my favorite moment doing so was at an ATM station in the Village somewhere around 3 in the morning. I gave it to the ATM machine and the random people walking by watching me seem to enjoy it as well. To be honest, it wasn’t even my best, but it doesn’t matter. It was so much fun. Ahh, the good ole days with the Queen to Be.

I figured somehow, someway, Puff Puff Diddy and MTV would find some way to salvage Danity Kane or at the very least, think of a clever way to milk another season out of all five girls. Apparently that’s not going to happen. Aubrey is about to do Playboy, which means the next step for her is trying to land another reality show that likely won’t be anywhere near as entertaining as Making The Band.

That is, unless she does plenty of dancing like that. That I can get with. In fact, I’d love to find her at a club. I’ve never danced with a white girl that can get low like that and stay there for a good second. I’m an equal opportunity twirker. That seems like something Barack Obama would appreciate, right?

I was talking to my friend, Brittany, and she feels after a certain age you should nix sweeping in public. I can understand that point-of-view, but I’m down for doing it as long as I physically can. I haven’t really been dancing like I used to. I was beginning to think I had lost it. Thankfully, I caught up with an old friend who was visiting for Christmas. She and I danced a lot, and I was back to using the rail as some sort of pole. I still have it. I only need to work on preserving it. It would probably be in my best interest: You never know where this recession will lead you.

Perhaps that’s why Aubrey’s doing Playboy. Ha, who am I kidding. She’s an attention whore and a freak. She would likely do it even if she already had millions in the bank. Too bad she didn’t have a real friend. She was such a cute girl when the group originally formed. Now she looks like she’s in an abusive relationship with coke and Grey Goose.

Here’s to hoping whatever she ends up doing, she gets her face and body back together. If she were to get all of that together and still drop it like that, I’m sure she can squeeze another 60 seconds out of her fifteen minutes of fame and get a show. She should bring D. Woods along if she does. Oh and this woman:


I don’t know who she is, but she is a TV star in the making. Look at her: She’s showing those boys no love. I’d watch her. Maybe they can get that Asian chick from Soul Train, too. And if the show gets good ratings, maybe I’ll show up for an episode. Must see TV, ya’ll!

Some Things Seem To Never Change

You know, to tell you the truth, I don’t know anything about Ryan Leslie. I know he’s responsible for bringing Cassie to music — that fun fact alone makes me not want to expand my knowledge about him. Anyone who listens to Cassie sing and thinks she belongs in the music industry as an actual singer is either a sadist or just really cruel. Or you know, deaf or something.

Then again, if you take one look at this video, you can imagine why a girl like Cassie would be able to wrangle a record deal and hit song out of him. Homie looks like MC Urkel. If you’re wondering, that’s pronounced Ur-kel. I’ll give him Stephan Urkel before straight Steve Urkel. See, I’m definitely nicer in 2009.

Anyway, someone sent this video to me (good looking, Jason), and I would be wrong if I didn’t share it with you all. I don’t know why, but I actually feel pretty guilty about making jokes about him. But c’mon nah, he is really serious about rhyming in this video, ain’t he?

If you ever meet a ‘good kid’ that wants to rap, don’t show him this video. It will have becoming a Blood in about a week.

It’s OK To Stay In


I don’t know where to begin. Is that what marriage does to you or is this simply a case of when not giving a fuck goes wrong?

Wait, let’s start off on a positive different note: At least she’s not wearing a lace front. I think that was the point of her roots making such a grand appearance, so I think it’s appropriate that we acknowledge they’re present.

Hi, Beyonce’s roots. Good to see you. It’s been a while. Were you humming “Breathe Again” in this picture?

There. That’s that.

I remember Beyonce mentioning something about her hair being natural. That’s great. Go you. Fight the perm. Where’s the comb, though, homie? Did you just wake up? Are were you and Jay doing newlywed things on the car ride there? What’s the problem?

Alright, moving on and moving down, there’s the thing about Beyonce’s choice of clothes. I’m not a fashion critic so I’m not about to pretend that I’m Andre Leon Tally. Having said that, what’s good with the old lady wear? She looks like she ought to be singing background for The Gap Band? That or a 90s era Vanessa Williams after a fight.

I’m not understanding. You’re Beyonce, and thus, you should be extra fly. Especially when you just put out a song talking about how hot you are.

This is not the best way to kick off the new year. Maybe she thought, I don’t know, it’s not my movie premiere. I understand, but if didn’t you want to go why didn’t you stay your ass at home?

I bet Rihanna is looking at that picture of Beyonce and singing to herself, “Ego so big, you must admit, I got every reason to feel like I’m that bitch.”

2009 is already looking like a struggle. C’mon nah, Bee. Don’t let Crisco Cheeks outdo you.

P.S. Let this be yet another post that proves I am not a bedazzled stan . I’ll admit when she looks, acts, or sounds like a damn fool. Mmph.

Getting Up

Music provides the greatest escape for me. My mood can usually be altered depending on the song. Yesterday – or maybe the day before that…everything this week is somewhat of a blur – I put my iPod on shuffle and hoped for the best. I realized years ago that I have a knack for finding the right song to capture exactly how I’m feeling at any given moment. First song to play on shuffle was a good one: “Didn’t Cha Know.”

For a minute, I felt a little different. I can’t remember many of the 298 songs that followed. I know “Everyday It Rains” came on, and I know I danced along to a couple more, but nothing sticks out. And then song 299 came on and I’ve been playing it ever since. It’s something I definitely needed to hear.

You’ll have to forgive me for not being the best blogger over the last few weeks. I haven’t had as much creativity running through me as I would like. I’ve either had to dedicate myself to other tasks or I just couldn’t come up with anything to say. I feel really drained. This entry is not meant to serve as my personal pity party, but I figure if I can’t think of anything in particular to muse on, I might as well rant on what’s real.

I had every intention of kicking 2009 off with a lot of optimism. New things are in store for me, but my excitement simply isn’t there. I guess in a way, I feel defeated, and thus tired.

Over the last year-and-a-half I’ve gotten plenty of emails from different readers telling me my words have either helped them past the time or aid them in taking their minds off of something in their lives they needed a distraction from. I love when people tell me that because it gives me the incentive to keep writing. I have to say, though, I wish I had given myself my own distraction.

I don’t know what it is about me that’s intent on being my own worst enemy sometimes, but I am far too hard on myself. I’ve always been someone with big dreams, and I’ve worked really hard and sacrificed to get myself to the level I’ve always aspired to be on. And with a lot of disappointment comes a time to reflect on what you should’ve done, or what you still need to do and sometimes it can all be too overwhelming. Everything seems so much more difficult than it has to be.

Or maybe it doesn’t. The other day I saw one of my friends put up a status saying they believed again. Yesterday I sent a text asking what got them back to that point and they told me they reflected on happier times and recalled a happier version of themselves. She said she made a vow to not criticize herself.

That’s exactly my problem: I’m way too critical sometimes, and I criticize no one harsher than I do myself. If I would only stop doing that I would leave myself room to reflect on the things that I have done, be proud of that and look forward to all the things I can still do. Like the homie or anyone who knows better. And someone else brought something to my attention: You’re supposed to enjoy your 20s. Everything isn’t going to happen exactly how you want it to, but that doesn’t mean you should hold off your happiness until you get it.

These are all things I know, but at the same time, they’re ideals I’ve yet to fully embrace. And that’s probably why I’m still stuck on Amel Larrieux. Everything rests on me. I’m the only one that can snap myself back. It’s that simple…or at least, should be.

So I won’t sound like a complete dreary Sade ballad, I did read this quote that put things in perspective. “When you feel like giving up, remember why you held on for so long in the first place.”

Hopefully I can prop myself up by Friday. Things could always be worse. I could be George Bush’s new neighbor/target, Janet Jackson’s last album, or Sheree Whitfield’s rationale for alimony.

You Need To Get

Far be it from me to tell someone when to let go of someone they’re likely not to have to themselves, but I can say if you’re going to cling to hope, it may not be in your best interest to reveal some obvious unresolved feelings at the club over a microphone.

What’s that line she usually shouts the loudest when performing “Let It Go?” “If he ain’t gonna love you/the way he should/then let it go?”

Yeah, maybe. Or not. Whatever. Like I said, I’m in no position to talk about anyone in that area. Still, Keyshia has a lot going for her. She doesn’t look like Big Red’s daughter anymore, she has two platinum albums under her belt, and she’s managed to go gold with her third album already without the benefit of a hit single. Oh and her show is making people across the nation go, “Damn. I thought I had it bad.” Do you know what kind of numbers that sentiment probably pulls in for a show? It must be high because every episode I turn on features a new relative being taken in and a new condo purchased.

Keyshia ought to be happy…in public anyway. You can tell Old Jeezy really broke her heart by acting as if their thing was never that heavy. I know what that’s like. You tend to become a little obsessed about it.

So much you start going into random tangents about how you’re single in front of strangers.

That’s OK, Keyshia. You’re gonna be alright. You only have to remember this: “If he ain’t gonna love you, the way he should, then let it go…or at least sob in private.” That and you have to realize after one too many drinks microphones are your mortal enemy.

P.S. I know some of ya’ll are watching this, smiling to yourselves thinking, “YES! I’m about to get a sad Keyshia back!” Quit that.

Time To Be Canceled?

Ren and Stimpy decided to throw out a little video to remind Making the Band fans why this season will likely suck in comparison previous ones. 

Now I’m not one to shun Black love, but damn I wish both of them belong to some other race. OK, so maybe they’re not that bad but they aren’t that good either. One of the biggest drags of last season was watching these two cornballs gush over each other week after week. That time could’ve been better spent watching Aubrey get cursed out for asking when she’s going to be paid by Bad Boy or finding out why Willie is really Diddy Puff’s favorite member of Day 26. 
Or, they could’ve shown the members of Danity Kane staring at a wall for five minutes. That would have provided much more entertainment to me than watching these two act like this. This video makes me worry about the future of this show. I don’t find Day 26 particularly interesting, and if the two more intriguing members of Danity Kane are out of the group then what are we left with? The online adventures of Lilo & Stitch?
I think I’ll pass.  

The Request Line

Am I the only one who finds himself bombarded with these ASPCA commercials on a Saturday afternoon and left wondering what the hell is wrong with them and Sarah McLachlan? Don’t get me wrong, I am not an animal hater. In fact, I have swerved plenty a time on the road in order to avoid hitting Rocky, Bambi, Roger, Heathcliff, and Benji. And not just because I didn’t want to have to wipe blood off anyone’s car. No, I actually cared about the animals.

But then I see one of these commercials and I’m creeped the hell out. Isn’t it a bit odd to use a song like “Silent Night” to make a case for animal cruelty? The song is about the birth of infant Jesus and they’re using it incite guilt over strey dogs and cats. Doesn’t that seem a bit extra? It reminds me of the time PETA dared to compare animal cruelty to slavery. Not to knock anyone’s personal cause or anything but there are actual humans still suffering, aren’t they?

That being said, shouldn’t they go with a different song? I suppose the theme song to Scooby Doo, “Circle of Life,” or “Under The Sea” would be anti-climatic, but c’mon nah, “Silent Night, holy night, all is come, all is bright…round young poochie, kitten, and mice?” There has to be something else out there.

Am I making any sense or you hoping I get bit by a dog later in the day?

Off Switch


This is about as close to a genuine scream as I’m going to get. It would be really nice if I could turn everyone off. Not even for long. Just enough time for me to think in silence. Actually, I don’t want to think so let’s change that. Hmm, how about simply be in silence? Does that sound better? Yeah, much.  

I’m sure you can tell by now that I’m not in the best mood, so how about you just enjoy the video for now? Please enjoy it — it took me a long time to find a copy I can actually embed. Those Jackson stans on YouTube have blocked every attempt to embed it anywhere else. I have no idea why it’s that serious to them to watch “Scream” on YouTube only. I wish Randy, Jermaine, and ‘nem knew it’s never that deep. 
Whatever, I’ll be back after I come from the doctor. Maybe.