mixtape maestro (2.0)

Back in the day, you were damn near guaranteed something special everytime Busta Rhymes dropped a new record. His penchant for rousing hooks, otherworldly beatscapes built from obscure samples and kooky eye-popping music videos with multi-million dollar budgets awarded listeners with a slew of left-field bangers that still snatch up major props to this day. Unfortunately, as the years wore on, he seemed to lose some of that magic. His precious speedy flow remained intact and he could still pump out a hot chorus every once in awhile, but with the beats taking a sad turn towards the radio-friendly and his videos looking cheaper and cheaper (not to mention the image-tainting of numerous bouts with the law), what was once an extraordinary rap icon soon morphed into just another ordinary hip hop entity.

With the big bank bravado and drunk-friendly hysterics of new single “Arab Money” (a sort of companion piece to producer Ron Browz’ other Auto-Tune slathered current fave, “Pop Champagne”), Busta Rhymes had begun inching his way back onto the nightlife circuit; but the record was riddled with some major handicaps. Yeah, it carried the minimum requisite of song elements to conquer the dancefloor, but seeing as though any other rapper could have recorded it and came out with similar results, it definitely paled in comparison to the man’s heyday achievements. Even worse, “Money” held a hard-to-ignore offensive tinge in it’s make-up that drew head-scratching reactions from a lot of people.

But the promise of a career-reigniting track has proven too big a grab to let slip away, so Busta has opted to continue to push the record. What’s the obvious next step? An over-crowded remix featuring all the usual suspects so they don’t have to waste time rushing out their own bootlegged “freestyles” before the cut loses it’s heat.

Tardily attempting to appease the balkers, the remix sees Busta replacing the nonsensical hook of the original (one of the main sources of the controversy) with real Arabic words and the correct pronunciation of the word “Arab”, even getting his track-mates to pull out some authentic phrases on their own verses. It also serves the typical wealthy braggadocio of Diddy (“Bout to buy Dubai and swim in the shark section”), robo-voiced goofball antics of both halves of T-Wayne and an extended appearance by Browz (who has quickly leap-frogged over Pain, Weezy and Kanye as the worst artist ever to over-lean on the Auto-Tune).

Is it a solid enough addition within this Era of the Posse Cut Overkill? We’ll give it that. But revising a chorus and hiring on an A-list line-up probably won’t be enough to woo over those who despise the original, or just wish that Busta could stop fiddling around with all this sub-par material he’s been unleashing recently and really focus on figuring out a way to tap back into that mid-90’s appeal.

DL: “Arab Money (Remix)” (alt)

Uncategorized akon, busta rhymes, diddy, lil' wayne, posse cut, remix, ron browz, swizz beatz, t-pain

If Diddy “invented” the remix, Akon has overused it. Being the go-to hook guy for every other rap song doesn’t seem to be enough for the ever-present singer, he has now taken it upon himself to re-haul all of his songs that he’s either recorded for himself or produced for someone else. It’s just another hint that Akon wants to be R. Kelly, the R&B mastermind who started this trend many years ago. On the umpteenth makeover of his previous #1 “Don’t Matter”, Akon hands the romancing reggae ballad over to his female protegees, Jamaican sister act Brick & Lace, giving the cut a new kind of hit potential he couldn’t have achieved on his own.

On the original version, Akon soaked in the sunny rays of a swaying island lilt confident that though his current romance was in the midst of trying times, things were going to work out in the end (he was gonna fight, oh yeah he would fight, he believed he would fight for the right to love her for all eternity). On this alternate take, the inspiring sentiment remains but the situation is slightly different with the couple being split apart by his jail bid as opposed to random home wreckers. Hearing another Akon-oriented ditty centered on some jail scenario is beyond overkill (one song about being behind bars and now he feels all his other cuts must tie into the same theme), but the fluttery vulnerability of Brick & Lace’s adorable voices, and the notion that their faith-reliant dedication is being penned in a letter to be shipped to their imprisoned lover pulls at the heartstrings a bit.

An okay vocalist who gets by mainly on his talent for sculpting pleasing melodies, Akon, in another R. Kelly comparison, is best when he gives his material to women to sing. If he had sung “The Sweet Escape”, it still would’ve been a hit but Gwen Stefani had the dork-ish spunk to really make the song grab our attention. Much in the same way, Brick & Lace convey the emotions of “Don’t Matter” with a greater sincerity than the somewhat two-dimensional Akon could ever muster, helping their version carry far more meaning than his. Though tt’s appeal is slightly hampered by the “Konvict Mu-sic” crooner’s monopolization of all urban radio fare, this “Don’t Matter” re-do is too aurally satisfying to hate on too hard.

Download: “Don’t Matter (Remix)”

Watch the video for the original:

Peep Brick & Lace’s debut single “Never Never”:

Uncategorized akon, brick & lace, jamaica, reggae, remix

It doesn’t take much for T-Pain to fall in love. It seems any cutie that gives him the slightest bit of attention is prime for his next conquest. “Bartender” falls in the same vein as “I’m In Luv (With A Stripper)” and “I Wanna Love You” in which T-Pain ridiculously falls under the assumption that a working woman must be into him, never considering the thought that she just might be being friendly because she knows he’s a celebrity and can afford some big tips.

“Bartender” sounds no different than the rest of T-Pain’s vocoder-branded R&B and the hook carries the notion that the Tallahassee crooner could write a song about dingy shoelaces and end up with a #1 smash. The half-premise is this: Freshly broken up with his boo the night before, a downtrodden Pain hits the club and finds some sort of connection with the nice looking lady working the bar. The simple chorus (“She made us drinks to drink/ We drunk ‘em (Got drunk)/ And then I think she thinks I’m cool”), a dumb catchphrase waiting to be mimicked, indicates that this burgeoning “relationship” exists solely in his mind, but it’s enough from him to regain some of his self-esteem. It’s beneficial for the both of them: she gives him winks and smiles, he likes the boost to his ego and opts to return there everytime he’s feeling a bit lonely (“Everytime I hit the spot/ Baby girl takin’ care of me”). In return, she’s guaranteed a car note’s worth of tips every time he visits.

Akon offers a cameo and tries to add some depth to the story. He doesn’t drink or smoke, but hopes for his ex to walk in and get jealous when she sees him enjoying himself with his new lady bartender friend. It’s a decent, albeit belated, attempt as CEO to make sure his client doesn’t become such a one note joke.

Ferociously holding on to his elongated fifteen minutes of fame, T-Pain knows how to come up with a good enough guilty pleasure that’ll keep people interested in him for at least another few months. There’ll come a time when we’ll look back and wonder what the hell we were smoking when we allowed him as much mileage as he’s had, but for the time being, it’s absurd fluff like this that makes life worth living.

Download: “Bartender” (Amazon)

Watch T-Pain perform a surprisingly decent, though borderline maniacal, version of Gavin DeGraw’s “I Don’t Wanna Be”:

Uncategorized akon, auto-tune, R&B, t-pain