The most horrific thing happened to me the other night. A friend of mine expressed her newfound affinity for Diamond of Crime Mob. Naturally, that automatically gave me the urge to turn on Ms. 32 Flavors classic, “Rock Yo Hips,” and feel the inspiration from her bars about her bootylicious bubblegum.
But, as I was I tried to soda, pop it, and watch it sizzle my body seemed a bit off. It wasn’t the shizzle, if you will.
Like, even homie here would’ve gotten me.
I told another friend that something seemed off and do you know what she said?
“You’re getting old, I bet you just can’t move like that anymore.”
With respect to the legendary status of Liza Minnelli, I can smell the Bengay seeping from this track.
On one hand, I like it because it further illustrates just how huge “Single Ladies (Put A Ring On It)” truly is. At this point, I don’t see how anyone can deny the impact the song and video have made on pop culture. Everyone from Bethenny Frankel to your too hot to trot granny still references this song as if it came out a week ago. I would’ve never guessed a fate for a song I initially dismissed as a generic version of “Get Me Bodied” before ultimately falling in love with it like everyone else. So while your favorite singer is somewhere trying to figure out how to work kegel exercises, mud, and the perfect squat into a video treatment, Beyonce’s still coasting on a two-year old video.
Yes, my stan game is still proper when need be.
Now that we’ve gotten the niceness out of the way, let’s be mean to old people, shall we?
Well, not completely mean. I don’t want the older white gay mafia to nix my screenwriting and book publishing ambitions. I’ll just say if you are old enough to remember cassette tapes being the original iPod then chances are this is your shit. Now if you don’t remember what a cassette tape is, chances are this rendition of Beyonce’s classic (give it up, that’s how it will be remembered) just made you appreciate the sweet sounds of Soulja Boy Tell ‘Em.
I’m somewhere in the middle. This song is bad, but is it bad in a way my ears need a first aid kit bad? Or is bad in I want to blast this in the middle of the hood and watch people look at me crazy bad? I’ll let you know the next time I ride down to Crenshaw. Should I not make it back to this blog, I’m sure Cameka Camry and I’s bodies can be found near a Chinese carryout.
You know, if Aretha Franklin can brilliantly cover “Touch My Body” I suppose Liza can do this. Now we just need to get Patti Labelle to sing Tela’s “Sho’Nuff” and my life will be nearly complete.
Nevertheless as late as Liza is and as awful as some may feel this cover is, Liza still comes across as the fun older lady who still wants to show she can jig, get it big. Give her a yasss, a couple of singles, and send up a prayer that she will dare to perform this somewhere with a video crew surrounding her.
There’s something about Christina Aguilera that grates my last nerve. It’s a pity, too, because outside of her last album, I’ve spent plenty of dollars on her projects. However, her undying need to try to convince others that she is some sort of feminist who is gyrating and thrusting her vagina into the camera in the name of freedom is annoying as hell.
She’s been singing this same song for about eight years now. We get it, X-Tina: You’re “dirrty,” you’re nasty, you like to hump people at random. Or better yet, you watched a whole lot of Madonna videos and you find that super duper cool. I understand, Chrissy — you’re not the only one who watched the “Erotica” video and became inspired to turn off your night light and practice junior-level hoe shit in the dark.
Yet, stop making your antics out to be more than what they are.
I must have missed out on the “controversy,” but apparently Christina felt compelled to speak out on her new video.
“Mama still has to be me. I never claimed to be a cookie-cutter soccer mom. That’s all good for some people. Not for me.
He’s going to grow up in a household where he knows mommy expresses herself artistically and some of that will have to reflect itself sexually too at times. He’s going to learn to respect the fact that women are allowed to express themselves and not feel shameful about their bodies or their sexuality.”
I think it’s about time YouTube gives their videos the 3D treatment, don’t you think?
I’m quite certain many of you are currently thinking: Jesus be a broken Internet connection.
Normally, that would be my reaction, too, but it’s something about this video. Maybe it’s the way she rolls her rolls, but I don’t want to be mean right now. Well, not that mean at least.
I’ve been reading about this supposed Ciara ban by BET. I tend not to believe video ban rumors and usually dismiss them as transparent attempts to drum up press about a given project. But you know, I’m perceived as such a Ciara basher that I don’t want to continue to act as if I curse the day she watched her first MC Hammer video.
Actually, I want to give her a compliment: I like a lot of the new material I’ve heard from her thus far. Songs like “I Run It” and especially “This Is What Love Is” make me consider buying her album. That is, should they make the final cut.
However, two points for Ciara inspiring people to get their body roll on. I may or may not have one night found myself dropping it in front of my homegirl when she came to visit after a couple of alcohol-infused Arnold Palmers. If you’re curious, yes it might have been made with Seagram’s Sweet Tea Vodka and Simply Lemonade. No, she didn’t leave a tip. Unfortunately.
I was smart enough not to record myself, but hey, maybe this girl is just trying give her shape some shine.
And obviously, Ciara has inspired her to exercise. Move that body around, sweat some excess off and be comfortable in her own skin. Hoe shit with a heart, if you will.
She may be a little ashy, but that’s besides the point. Whether or not her video is getting as many spins on TV as people think it should, it’s obviously still making its mark. CiCi stans, stand up.
This is what happens when singers lie to producers while in desperate need a hit. I wouldn’t call myself a fan of The-Dream as an artist. He has a few catchy songs – my favorite being “I Luv Your Girl.” I am a big fan of The-Dream as a producer.
However, you would think a producer of his stature at this point would know that some things are better left untouched. Then again, we live in an era of music where the producer is so ego driven that he just has to be in front of the camera — even if he sometimes sings like he hasn’t gone to the bathroom in seven years.
As a fan of Aaliyah I can’t pretend to be offended for her. When you take a classic record like “One In A Million” you have only two options: Make it good and make it better. Making it sound like one of the worst R&B songs of the previous decade shouldn’t even be thought of.
Teddy Graham, why would you do this?
He answered via Twitter:
“No one will ever [sing] Aaliyah’s ‘One In A Million’ like she did! Deff not me lol. I did it because I Reilly miss her still and it was out of respect! To her I’m still just a fan not a writer not an artist a Fan! Calm down the worlds not over. But [at least] y’all will remember how dope she was and still is to this day!”
Yes, we remember and we didn’t need an awful rendition of one of her best tracks to revisit that fact. He could’ve fooled me calling this a tribute. It sounds more like an audible demonstration of the pains of puberty. Something you show in the few health classes left to scare young boys into submission.
I’m sure he had all of the best intentions in the world, but when I pay tribute to Aaliyah via an improvised performance of “Rock The Boat” I do so in private. Or, I’m at least kind enough not to tape me working the middle while on a public sidewalk on a random afternoon and upload it to the Internet.
Some things are better left unseen and heard.
This is the type of nonsense that has you wanting to snatch a processed curl from Terius’ skull and getting at a voodoo priestess so she can conjure up a good case of strep throat. I would expect this sort of behavior from a uncivilized teenage queen on YouTube. Shame, shame ya’ll.
Hello, all. I know, I know: I’m on a break. If it helps, I finished at least half of my writing goals for the month. However, before I dig really deep into the next script I have to write I have some bullshit to comment on.
To her credit, Mo’Nique is a really sweet person. She’s one of those people who likes to see the good in everything. Someone could fart and Mo’Nique would say that’s your divine spirit passing that gas for the blessings of God to enter your body. In most cases, it’s an admirable quality. In others, not so much.
Take for example her using the name Waka Flocka Flame to explain the importance of having visionaries around you. This inarticulate (even by the deep south’s standards) rapper took Fozzy Bear’s catch phrase and Gucci Mane’s fire reference and meshed them together to create his stage name. While it’s certainly an interesting name, did Mo’Nique really just refer to Gucci as a visionary?
I have danced plenty of times at a stop light to Gucci Mane’s music on full blast in my car, Cameka Camry, but I wouldn’t call that man a visionary. Somebody fucked with that Burrprint a little too hard, huh? Or maybe she was talking about Jim Henson although I suspect his soul isn’t singing over Waka Flocka Flame. No disrespect to his mama, who I fear would shoot me on sight if I looked at the tip of her colored hair funny.
It’s too bad no one around him had the vision to get him media training before he decided to go on national TV. He didn’t even know how to explain his own music, ya’ll. So what does he fall back on? The same thing most people do when they have no where else to turn: The Lord.
I’m not going to pretend to know God’s taste, but based on what I was taught and picked up along the way I’m not so sure God would attribute Flocka’s music to himself. I mean, all he talks about is beating people up and shit, right? Well, on second thought, maybe Old Testament God had a trap house or something. As Keith put it, “O Lets Dost It.”
Regardless, I still don’t see it. I can see God bumping some Yolanda Adams, “God In Me” screwed and chopped, the Harlem Boys Choir, or maybe some of that traditional stuff that used to put some people to sleep in mass (but my mama loves it, and I do appreciate the ceremonial aspect of it). I can even see God doing the hand wave and pointing to Saturn while listening to “Single Ladies (Put A Ring On It).”
I can’t see him smiling about this, though.
And after he says this Mo’Nique the comedian fails to show because Mo’Nique the self-help guru is too busy saluting him. She took his words and said, “Baby, when you say you surrender” and proceeds to mouth off something she probably heard at the last service.
I’ll leave Mo’ alone, though. She’s sweet and she’s just being positive. You know, because saying anything else – even if you’re right – makes you Satantic to the eyes of many (who would rather not be called out on their bullshit).
I still have something for Waka Flocka, however. I don’t knock his hustle (completely), but I need people in general to aim a little higher and try to think of something to say other than some cliche that doesn’t make a lick of sense.
And while we’re at it, since God is the subject of this post can we pray to God to bless Fozzy’s play cousin with a speech coach? I’m all for not downing a southern accent, but enunciate, Negro. He speaks as if he can barely open his mouth. You know, like his tongue is too tired from bench pressing that it won’t even bother to lift itself even a little bit to help him get out the words. Or a word.
God, since you’re apparently doing it can you help fix that?
Another day another jealous aspiring female rapper using Nicki Minaj to garner attention for an otherwise dead career.
This time up to bat ready to strike out is Gloria Velez. To her credit, Gloria had the video vixen credentials Karrine Steffans exaggerated in her book. However, to her detriment, Karrine Steffans is the one who figured out how to flip her time spent on various video sets into something that could sit on the New York Times best-seller list.
Instead, Gloria pursued a rap career. She’s had deals. One at Cash Money. One at some other label I can’t remember. Ultimately, none of those deals mattered given neither manage to matriculate into her delivering a full fledged album. Shoot, not even first single.
I gather with Nicki’s career soaring Gloria obviously feels a certain way about it in relation to her own failures. It’s just too bad she didn’t save those sentiments for her diary. Gloria cannot rap. At all. Or maybe she can rap, but not come up with a competent diss record.
Whatever the case, this is corny. Embarrassingly corny. In fact, after you listen to this it’s no longer surprising that the sole hit Gloria has ever had was delivered via Aaron Hall’s semen.
Gloria’s a pretty girl and I’m sure her potty mouth has worked to her at advantage in certain places. The studio doesn’t seem to be among them. At this point everyone and their favorite video girl from ten years ago is throwing shade at Nicki Minaj’s way.
Although I get why she won’t respond to each and every person looking to milk her press for their own self-gain, I wish Nicki would drop the Barbie act just for a second and light these people up. I often find contrived beef rather corny, but considering the rampant opinions floating around I think it’s about time Nicki take it back to herearlier mixtape days and respond.
It might actually help her career given the largely tepid response to her debut solo single. C’mon nah, Nicki. Say something. If not, I have a feeling the lil’ sassy girl from Positive K’s “I Got A Man” will crawl up from under rock with her own Nicki Minaj diss record.