All that is good is nastay...

but all that is nasty is not necessarily good. I'm way behind on new music, but I just heard the cop car song by Lil Wayne yesterday and am completely crazy about it. While familiar with Lil Wayne as a figure from New Orleans and aware of his general schtick, I had only heard some mutated children's version of "Lollipop" (don't ask) as far as his actual tunes were concerned. I've read great things about his latest album, The Carter III, but nothing prepared me for the brilliance of this song.

I hesitate to say brilliant every time because the lyrics are pure trash, but damn they're clever. His homage to NWA somewhere before the first chorus, I think, made me squeal with absolute delight. While I thought to myself, come on, it's not that smart I realized that the cleverness wasn't the appeal, or even that unique. NWA was kinda clever, but its trail-blazing dirtiness was what drew me in as an adolescent. But why did I like it better than 2 Live Crew? And then it hit me: it's the triumph of the underdog.

Think about it. There are all of these super dirty rap songs with angry, growling, grunting rappers. They're dark. You feel dirty just listening to them, and can almost hear poor little teenage girls crying among the sounds of ass-slapping and dog fighting. It's disgusting. It's not fun. Listening to guys like Eazy E and Lil Wayne talk about getting busy-- now that's fun. Just the sheer tones of their voices brings a lighter vibe, and you can't help but enjoy the fact that these guys have made it into the baller club because otherwise-- well, I won't say it out loud. It ain't right.

So now for the hypothesis busters: first, Big Pun. I love Pun, but sometimes he gets pretty dark. I almost wrecked my car in an effort to clap my hands over my ears when I heard him say something about knocking a fetus out of place. But really, if this guy didn't rap, he would never-- well, you know.

Next buster, but not a rapper: Morris Day. Now anyone that knows me knows that I am crazy about Morris and give the creation of his persona far more credit than it really merits. I do honestly think the song Chile Sauce is truly brilliant. It's hysterical. Totally tongue in cheek, definitive clownin. But have you seen Morris close up? Dude's got mad freckles all over his nose and cheeks. Too adorable. Like, puppy adorable. If he hadn't ridden on the purple coattails, he would never have gotten so much-- yeah. Well, maybe. That band is damn tight. But for all of the light and funny lady killin, I had another tire-screeching, ear-clapping moment of absolute horror while listening to their second album, What Time Is It? The tune is called The Walk, and it describes a dance move named as such. (To be later referenced in their next album Ice Cream Castles, during the aforementioned epic, Chili Sauce: "Say, do you know how to do The Walk?" "Why certainly! Everyone can do The Walk!" "Well why don't you just Walk yo ass to the other side of the room!") But back to the horror-- as Morris explains why he wears baggy pants, "...zip, snap, and drop! Easy access baby, before they get a chance to holler stop!" I swear I almost died to hear such violence. The whole line is even spoken with an entirely different air. It's angry, dark, and scary; there's even an ominous-sounding echo on the word "stop." It makes me uneasy to the extent that I don't even listen to that album anymore. When I do its only for 777-9311, and Gigolos Get Lonely Too.

So my point isn't bulletproof, but it works in general: Dirty lyrics coming from someone that typically wouldn't have the repertoire to reference for such things kinda warms one's heart in a way. Like Eazy E's Christmas album....

(We'll save the topic of misogyny in black music for another day.)

KJ