mixtape maestro (2.0)

As if the constant rotation of T-Pain’s solo singles and billion cameo appearances weren’t enough, it seems every new R&B male artist that enters the scene feels the need to emulate his style. From the robo vocals to the dumb hooks and witty, pervert-minded lyricism, recent months has unfortunately seen T-Pain replace Michael Jackson and R. Kelly as the modern day soul man’s main influence. The latest biter is the saddest, because he isn’t a newcomer nor even really recognized as a singer.

In one of his strangest releases ever, “Sexual Eruption” finds Snoop Dogg, of all people, buddying up with the inexplicably re-popularized vocoder and warbling his way into some girl’s panties for some mind-blowing intercourse. “She might be with him/ But she’s thinkin’ bout me,” he sings, bad karaoke-style, explaining the strictly-sexual relationship he’s currently sharing with some other dude’s girl.

Maybe the sex is so good it’s got Snoop feeling like he can only explain his inner glee in an R&B context or maybe all that marijuana intake over the years has somehow convinced him into thinking he’s the reincarnated Marvin Gaye. It’s the only way to explain this random detour into crooners’ territory with the swirly, psychedelic production (think Pharrell at his most spaciest) only aiding in the track’s odd, “Twilight Zone” feel.

Looks like someone took Nas’ “Hip Hop Is Dead” stance a little too seriously. Sorry Snoop, but Andre 3000 or Cee-Lo you are not.

DL: “Sexual Eruption” (YFH)

Beyond the “will he ever get kicked off?” drama of hairstyle-experimenter Sanjaya Malakar, the most exciting aspect of the dullest “American Idol” season ever was Blake Lewis. Sure, his singing wasn’t the best, his dance moves weren’t original and the beat-boxing shtick grew wearisome, but he had a cool sense of artistry never before seen on the big budget talent show, and it seemed very likely that his post-Idol album could tinge with guilty pleasure genius. After months of curious anticipation (“What will it sound like?”, “Will he beat box on every song?”, “Should Justin sue him for style-jacking in advance?”) we’re finally getting some answers thanks to the newly leaked “Know My Name”.

As expected, the track pinpoints him in the slick soul-pop lane he tended to favor while on the show (Maroon 5, Robin Thicke and Jamiroquai represented a few of his song choices). A summery, ’70′s-funk feeling cut with a modern-day electro sheen (what would Lewis do without some chopped-up elements somewhere?) finds the singer/ songwriter/ producer indulging in some celebrity beauty that’s caught his eye from the paper’s society pages. In one instance he decides they would be the perfect couple and he makes it his life’s duty to track her down and introduce himself, spawning dreams of joining her rumored “long list of lovers” over live drums and a steady stream of dotted synth notes.

Blake still doesn’t have a strong voice, but he shrouds his limitations in brief soulful wisps, layered studio effects and a staccato delivery that gives this record a neat, cutting edge quality. “Know My Name” really hits it’s stride, though, on the bridge, a delirious fusion of falsetto crooning, beat-boxed percussion, and semi-rapped promises of the ideal future he’s planned with “a dog, white fence, maybe couple of kids”. Within that thirty-second span of busy pop brilliance, he conjures a hooky sound a million times better than any all-pleasing country-R&B hybrid the depressingly bland Jordin Sparks could ever come up with. In the words of this season’s “Idol” winner theme, Blake’s time is definitely now and if A.D.D. holds more infectious cuts like this, the man could easily pull a Daughtry and end up one of 2008′s biggest sellers.

DL: “Know My Name” (YFH)

Usually after a quick dismissal of some new song as garbage, I’ll eventually come around to liking it. Maybe because the video was really cool or I heard it coming out of some club speakers while I really drunk and suddenly completely understood what the song was trying to accomplish. That never quite happened with “No One”, Alicia Keys’ grandiose return. I could never get past the strained belting or the fact that she was offering what essentially represented every Akon midtempo song ever.

Besides the synthesizer accents that creep up every now and then, the one part that I did find striking was the way she bellowed “WHEN THE RAIN IS POURING DAAAAAAOOOOWWWWWNNN!” That last note especially had an engrossing reggae vibe that got me wondering if I would like “No One” better when an island twist. As if Alicia had tuned into my private thoughts, she drops this fantastic reggae remix with Junior Reid.

Replacing the original’s plodding piano base with a sparse, rocksteady swing, Alicia’s upper range shouts seem more fitting. Since she’s not fighting against a layered foundation for aural supremacy, a newfound sparkle is unearthed from her epic love plea. We could do without Junior Reid interrupting her verses, but his endearing solo contribution, in which he calls his lady love his “empress” and states that she’ll “always wear my crown”, and lovely fade-out chants become the magical final ingredient to make this alluring revamp gel so well.

Now, you think if I close my eyes real tightly and wish for the beautiful Ms. Keys to marry me, she’ll suddenly knock at the door, or is that pushing it a bit?

DL: “No One (Reggae Remix)” (YFH)

As much as rock bands with female leads try their best to earn respect as an entire unit, they should know from the get-go that their musical efforts will almost always be overshadowed by the vixen with the mic. The production might have a macho bite, but the songs are usually sung from the feminine perspective and when it comes to photo shoots, they could kiss any kind of attention goodbye.

Tennessee punk-pop outfit Paramore are one of the break-out success stories of 2007 mainly because of the adorable Hayley Williams, a fiery-maned teenager with a big voice and a notebook filled with boy-centered woes. Her male bandmates should be thanking her presence, cause without her charming girlishness, their slick, punk-pop blasts wouldn’t stand much of a chance of sticking out on it’s own.

New single “Crushcrushcrush” is an obvious sing-a-long anthem with it’s perfected verses and the all-important big chorus delivered through Williams’ clear-cut vocal. The song finds Williams and her latest boy obsession caught in a checkmate situation. Both obviously pine after eachother, but he seems to have let his friends talk him out of making any move (“They taped over your mouth/ Scribbled out the truth with their lies/ Your little spies”). Hayley finds amusement in the distanced attraction (“I’d rather waste my time pretending than have to forget you for one whole minute”), but soon grows tired of their stagnant relationship, left to only dream that they can one day get some alone time to let their true feelings show.

Had a guy been singing this, the song would’ve felt run-of-the-mill, but Williams carries a magnetic spark that makes her silly little high school drama matter to the most maturest of listeners. Sorry boys in the back, but look at it this way, you get to be rich and keep your anonymity.

DL: “Crushcrushcrush” (YFH)

Taking a cue from The-Dream (and who’s not loving him these days?), Jay Z bites the line “I don’t need a hook for this sheee-it” and turns it into a hot song, “Takeover”-style.

A lyric lover’s dream, “No Hook” (it asserts “This is not for commercial usage”) see Jay delve deep into the reasons that led to him entering the rap game and why the fight to prosper doesn’t end with a record deal and millions of albums sold. “Poor me/ Dad was gone/ Finally got my Dad back/ Liver bad/ He wouldn’t live long/ It snatched my Dad back,” he opens, later declaring “This music is where I bury the ashes at”. Amongst other reasons, his father’s sudden passing sparks a desperation to escape the hopelessness of his humble origins (“Fuck rich/ Let’s get wealthy/ Who else gon’ feed we?”) and with sharp, rhyme-spewing precision he reveals the pressure he was under in making his dreams a reality (“Her fear her youngest son be a victim of homicide/ But I got to get you out of here Mama or I’m-a…die…inside/ And either way you lose me Mama/ So let loose of me”).

Still, reaching the upper echelons of the annual Forbes listings doesn’t alleviate his ambitions. He only finds more bridges to cross (“Homeboys/ Own your masters/ Slaves to mentality/ I carry with me to this very day”) and though he may dismiss the haters looming larger (“Other niggas ain’t in the game/ So they practice hate/ ‘Leave that boy Hov alone’ why don’t you?/ You don’t have to if you don’t want to/ But don’t say that I didn’t warn you”), he uses that surrounding jealousy to strive harder.

To think…an album ago we thought the man had lost his hunger and his recent output has been proving us wrong left and right. For that, we should tip him…we should tip him. AAAAAYYY!

DL: “No Hook” (YFH)

In these days of month long marriages and quickie divorces, it’s common knowledge that the idea of eternal matrimonial bliss has become sort of a myth. On “Girl U Know”, Houston rap icon Scarface bitterly flashes a middle finger to his main squeeze after he reaches the conclusion that she is no longer the woman he wants to spend the rest of his life with.

Over a well-chopped loop from Lenny Williams epic soul ballad “Cause I Love You” (sampled for the hundred-millionth time), ‘Face starts off fuming, lambasting Eve (of Adam & Eve fame) for initiating the downward-spiral of the opposite sex (“Figured Adam had a weak spot and she was right”). Turns out his relationship’s honeymoon period is over and he’s woken up one day to see that he’s trapped in a union with a constantly mad, wack in bed, whore of a significant other. Turned off by the fact that “she’s got more miles than a F-350″, ‘Face decides that women are too un-trustworthy for him to be a “one woman man” ever again and bears a warning to all fellow males to watch out for their hearts (“With a bigger whip and longer bank/ Bro, she gone”).

The song all betrothed soon-to-be-ex-bachelors should be required to listen to before taking that trip down the aisle.

DL: “Girl U Know” (YFH)

We’ve gotten so used to hearing Britney sound like her voice is being transmitted from another dimension, that hearing her hiccuping chops slightly unaltered is a little jarring at first. Vocally, the Pharrell-produced “Why Should I Be Sad” (Requisite answer: too many reasons to mention) reminds us of the pig-tailed Lolita who urged her beau to slap her across the face once more while shimmying her way down the private school hallways. Thematically, it’s the type of revealing song we’ve anxiously awaited her to record since the whole K-Fed thing went kaput.

“They couldn’t believe I did it/ But I was so committed…Thought I’d be plenty for you,” Spears confesses over Pharrell’s spacey synth and drums constellation. Now that’s it all over, Brit feels like a fool for not listening to advice (“My friends said you would play me”) and naively spending her own dime on his lavish lifestyle. One verse even documents a trip to Vegas she sent him on to give him a little matrimonial space. Guess Mr. “Popozao” literally took this as a break from his husbandly responsibilities, obliterating her trust with tabloid-heavy coverage of his scandalous antics (“I thought ‘what could separate us?’/ But it just seemed that Vegas/ Only brought the pimp out of you”).

While this could have easily gone down a “woe is me” path, “Why Should I Be Sad” instead takes a more inspiring route (“I’m tired of singing sad songs”), allowing Spears a chance to finally offer her heretofore shielded perspective on her adventures with the ultimate user. Her matured acceptance of what their marriage was and desire to wash herself of the past and start anew should sway the majority opinion that she’s completely bonkers.

Now if she could only find equally-as-good songs to explain this, this, that and this.

DL: “Why Should I Be Sad” (YFH)

After the dismal response to “Amusement Park”, 50 Cent would want to avoid any more tired “Candy Shop” retreads, but in yet another questionable business move, he launches the new holiday G Unit release, Shoot To Kill, by recreating what “Candy Shop” was essentially a remake of.

The duo that brought us “Magic Stick” re-team for another game of raunchy back-and-forth flirtations with the newly re-friended Lil’ Kim and Fiddy (where’s the rest of G Unit?) challenging eachother on who has the best tasting groin. Surprisingly, the winning chemistry that made their previous collaboration a smash remains on “Wanna Lick” making this a no-brainer future hit.

Kim never disappoints when topic turns below the belt and she dominates the soulful track with X-rated glee (“Act like it’s Christmas and put me on your wish list/ When you go down I’m-a help you grow your whiskers/ Put your lips on my lips/ Come taste my honey”), promising she’ll be so wet it’ll leave him seasick. Interestingly, Curtis really isn’t in the mood, much too distracted by the thought of making money to even commit a full verse to the subject matter at hand. One second he’s engaging in foreplay, the next rhyming about his “fetish for the cheddar”, further cementing the notion that he’s ready to officially retire from being an artist so he can focus on his many business dealings.

Nevertheless, “Magic Stick 2″ proves he can still unleash decent material, even if he only seems half-involved these days. If anything else, “Wanna Lick” at least sets the stage for the Lil’ Kim comeback we’ve been anticipating.

DL: “Wanna Lick” (YFH)

With the unmistakable alto of Stevie Nicks providing a unique harmonic touch, Vanessa Carlton’s album highlight “The One” poignantly follows a union destroyed by her beau’s inability to fully commit to her.

As interesting details are strewn about with the honest pen of her poetics, the song satisfies the tabloid scoop hound in all of us as it possibly scripts the demise of a romantic relationship she once shared with producer Stephan Jenkins (of Third Eye Blind fame).

To him and to others all may seem fine (“You’re always a golden boy/ And I’m the girl that you enjoy”), but Carlton can’t help to yearn for much more than he seems able to give. All she wants is for him to admit that she’s ‘the one’, but he shies away from such a solid declaration (“All the ways you say to me/ Sweet version of ‘let’s wait and see’”), not realizing how much the dismiss pierces her heart. Still, Vanessa sticks around, anticipating that he’ll mature soon enough. But time flies by without change and Carlton finally decides, to his dismay, that it’s time to cut her losses (“Came to say that I’ve moved/ I see your face/ You don’t approve”).

Through it’s span, “The One” strikes you with it’s many juxtapositions: her hopeful chirp paired with Nicks’ rugged voice; her loyal piano pumping out tones that interchange between the somber and high-spirited; and the teeter-totter of happy/ sad emotions the coupling bears on her. Even after she’s freed herself of him, her newfound felicity is continually thwarted by the depressing indie tunes that play on the radio (“The songs they plague me more than I can say”) and thoughts of whether he ever mourns his loss when he listens to the mixtape she made him.

Nearly succumbing to frustrating industry execs that didn’t understand the value of her classic artistic expression, it’s nice to see Carlton continue to fight against the comparably lame, hyper-sexualized trends of the marketplace with pure, honest gems like “The One”.

DL: “The One” (YFH)

There are certain songs that just make you fall that much deeper in love with your significant other. Songs that remind you of the warm comfort that rushes over your body when he/ she holds you in their embrace, the first glances of each other when you awake in bed or the ease that blankets your soul when you’re holding hands while walking down the street. The Maccabees newest single, “Toothpaste Kisses” is one of those.

Delicately plucked to a pleasant Hawaiian sway, “Toothpaste Kisses” imprisons you within it’s gentle spell. It’s starry-eyed allure nestles in that part of a relationship where the rest of the world doesn’t seem to matter, when you are living that fairy tale of a romance you were told doesn’t really exist.

“Lay with me/ I’ll lay with you/ We’ll do the things that lovers do,” singer Orlando Weeks croons, his dreamy tenor floating above the acoustic melody with a tranquil vintage presence. He sings only briefly and it’s much appreciated, cause the soothing arrangement (and extended whistle solo) says far more than any words can.

Being involved with someone may seem to invite too much needless stress and drama in one’s life, but “Toothpaste Kisses” is a reminder that it’s all worth it once you experience that sense of peace when in eachother’s arms.

DL: “Toothpaste Kisses” (YFH)