So this cockroach looking motherfucker Lil Wayne wants to release 7 albums next year. This guy looks like one of those voodoo shrunken heads. Bitch you look like my mop.
Similes aside, this is the problem with music today. Namely hip-hop and pop. What the hell happened to the artistic motherfuckin integrity of music? Correct me if I’m wrong, but music is still an art form. Art takes inspiration. Art takes hard work. Art takes trial and error. Art takes failure after failure. I can’t even turn the radio on anymore because the bullshit coming out my speakers sounds like two mating hippos in autotune. "Artists" like this guy put out albums in a day, talking the same stupid shit over shitty GarageBand tracks. I recognize that loop, I’ve got it on my iMac too, ho. I change the station and some other reggae-wannabee-POS was screaming “Me put me lighters in dee air. Me waive dem shits round like me juss don't care.” Bitch, I care. Put your fucking lighters away you’re contributing to global warming, ho.
I’m not really sure who to blame. Dumb consumers with no standards who think that grunting and repeating the same 3 words over and over equals a song? Dumb radio stations that don't have the balls to play one of the few artists that are actually creating something artistic? Dumb studio execs who invest in and endorse shitty artists that are more image and brand without the substance? Fuck all of you!
I think back to the days when we saved up some loot, rode our bikes down the local store, and bought that CD we were waiting for. Biggie Smalls. Tupac. Snoop. Dre. Outkast. Boys 2 Men. Jodeci. That good shit. We couldn’t wait to get home, spend forty-five minutes trying to break through all the seals, and put it into our big-ass boomboxes and blast it while our fobby-ass parents were downstairs telling us to turn it down and study for the SATs. WTF, Mom, I’m in the fifth grade! That CD would be on rotation 24-7 for a year until we knew every lyric of every song. An album marked a time in our lives and when we hear a song from it today, we’re transported back to that time and back to those memories.
The industry is bullshit now. Shit begits shit. Labels put out shitty music, consumers don't want to pay for it because it’s shit, labels put out even more shitty music, thinking quantity is the answer, and consumers are like fuck it I’d rather listen to some guy farting on command on YouTube. Now the industry is like WTF we’re in crisis mode. It’s because of Napster. It’s because of bit torrents. It’s because of Russian MP3 sites. You dumb fucks it's because of Justin Bieber. And all the fuktards like him who don’t have any goddamn talent...Britney Spears, Miley Cyrus, Lady Gaga, etc. The last thing I wanna hear is Rihanna's Jamiroquain-ass yodeling like a brain-dead llama, and the last thing I wanna see is J Lo’s obese brachiosaurus ass, shaking around on stage while singing a song completely out of tune. Jesus, get a new job. And these assholes (some of them formerly good rappers) have the audacity to get up on stage and physically and psychologically torture paying-ass-customers with their egomaniacal rants. Bitch, this aynt the Learning Annex and I didn’t walk my ass in here for free. So stop talking shit and start dropping hits. There’s just too much junk being put out that has saturated, convoluted, and destroyed the market and the beauty of good music.
Who am I to criticize this shit? I’ll tell you who. In the late motherfucking 90’s to the early 2000’s I was a hip hop DJ, raisin’ roofs and tearing clubs down in Beantown during my collegiate days. Two turntables and a motherfuckin microphone. My fee was free Long Island ice teas for the entire night. One time I got so drunk I took the needle off the record that was playing instead of the one that just finished. Fuck you, don't judge me. There was only like 2 people in the club when it happened, anyways. So in ‘98 I realized I had achieved that upper-echelon DJ level and decided it was time to officially release a mixtape. Me, DJ Skribble and Funk Flex...finally all on the same level. The problem was my crossfader busted on me and I was too damn broke to fix it. Also, there was only one mother fucker in all of Massachusetts who had the equipment to burn CDs cuz that was next level technology back then and I don’t mess with old antiquated shit. But none of that would stop me. So I put together a sick album using only the volume controls and hopped a train for two hours to find this guy. Burned the CDs, forced every friend I had to give me $10 a pop for them, and at the end of the day, I broke even. You see how ambitious I was? I put Volume 1 on the cover. And yea, there was subsequent-motherfuckin volumes but they weren't publicly released (on the real, send me $10 and I’ll get you one). I put my heart and soul into that CD and I would do it all over again so I know what I’m talking about, and to this day I still play some of those hits and reminisce about those times. We even added a sexual interlude to the CD where me and four other guys sang “End of the Road” acapella style. It was magical. Bottom line: if you don’t have a semi-successful mix CD with a sexual interlude on it then shut the fuck up and listen.
“Give me $10 or I will officially de-friend yo ass”
I heard that Wu-Tang Clan wants to release one single copy of their next album for 5 Million dollars. At first I was like WTF kind of bullshit is this, but now, I get what they’re trying to say. This is our work of art. We put actual work into this shit and we refuse to have it diluted. Artists need to get back to the art form and forget all this meat-dress and face-mask-wearing fuckery. I get it.
I was hip hop till I die until hip hop died. Now I’m listening to stuff I never thought I would cuz it’s slim pickings and I take what I can get. Folk. Bluegrass. Banjos and shit. Good music is good music. Deep down, I’m still hip hop, but I’m waiting for that revolution. Until that happens, we’ll always have our jams. So kick back, fix yourself a glass of thug passion, and let the melodic sounds of Jodeci hit you in your motherfucking eardrums.