The lovechild of Kirk Franklin and a catfish po’boy, Plies, has released a new single, and surprisingly, it doesn’t make me want to bang my head against a desk in anger. I know that technically because his music is beat-driven, vulgar, and twirk-inducing that I should love Plies. Plus, he has a background a nursing. My mama is an RN, so I have a soft spot for our hard working nurses.
Even so, I don’t usually fool with Plies. It’s just something about a self-professed goon who sounds like a horny slave in the studio but Olivia Pope’s speech coach during his off hours that irks me. Rick Ross may not be the plus-size Scarface as he purports to be, but at least the man commits to his lie all the time. Plies could take a cues from his fellow fronting ass Floridian.
That aside, I like this song. The beat reminds me of the classics. Say, The Ying Yang Twins’ “Wait (The Whisper Song).” As soon as I heard the beat I was transported back in time.
Picture it, 2005 and/or 2006. Me, inside of a gay club in the West Village. Dancing like I needed my rent paid. Good times were had. Plenty of alcohol was consumed. I had cab fare. Oh, youth, how I miss thee sometimes.
Also, the message of the song speaks to my soul. Listen, younger readers, one day you’re going to wake up and realize you’ve been living life as if you’re the first couple of tracks on Amerie’s debut album when you should’ve been behaving like vintage UGK. As in “Let Me See It” and “Take It Off.”
Plies might be as real as Kenya and Walter’s made-for-TV relationship, but he is rhyming a word in “Fucking or What.” I wonder what Jackée thinks of this song. It sounds like something right up her alley. Can someone ask for me?
Oh, and for the record, “catfish face” isn’t a complete insult. After all, one could easily took one look at me and say I look like fried rabbit. See that? I’m being fair all around with him today.