mixtape maestro (2.0)

Back in 2008, 16-year-old Aussie Gabriella Cilmi emerged with one of the better Winehouse-wannabe tracks with debut single “Sweet About Me”, a seducing slow-burner that found her naughtily winking to boys that she wasn’t one of those goody-goody girl-next-doors.

Fast-forward a couple of years and Cilmi has conveniently done away with the retro-soul trickery for sophomore album Ten, trading in one overdone pop trend for another in a somewhat jarring makeover that sees her targeting the futuro-dance diva niche.

On first listen, Ten lead-off “On A Mission” registers overwhelming in it’s intent to throw everything (Hi-NRG electro pulses!!! ’80′s aerobics-pop synths!! Disco guitar flickers!! “I am woman/ Hear me roar” chutzpah done with a loud Anastacia growl!!! Cheerleader B-girl-isms!!) at the listener at once at rapid speed. But once you’ve grown accustomed to all it’s overdramatic, heavy metal-meets-Studio 54 goofery, the song enters the realm of being an irresistible slab of awesomely bad guilty pleasure Velveeta, the laughably determined combination of faster-than-fast tempo and hefty vocal firepower making like the aural equivalent to a loudmouth physical trainer trying to get you in tip-top beachwear shape for the summertime.

Loses points for Cilmi not being able to deliver lyrics that paint her more inside the joke though (cause the corny, self-serious “super-heroine theme song” songwriting fails miserably).

Catch the video below, then peep the Eve-featured remix (which should evoke a giggle or two out of it bringing to imagination Ruff Ryder’s First Lady being trapped in some weird, arcade game 8-bit hell).

DL: “On A Mission (Remix featuring Eve)” (alt)

Eve kicked 2010 off with the announcement that she was parting ways with long-time label Interscope and re-entering the studio to start piecing together a new new incarnation of her long-delayed fourth LP; in response, we couldn’t even muster up the mildest of shrugs.

Why, you may ask? Let’s just say it’s hard getting excited anymore over the potential release of an album that has been promised to drop every year for the past three years now (let’s not forget that the project’s one-time lead single, the still-amazing “Tambourine”, arrived waaaay back in 2007).

If the set (now entitled Lip Lock) does manage to make it’s way to stores sometime before we have to start shopping for 2011 calendars though, we hope it follows through on the somewhat intriguing idea of her going after atypical soundscapes (like the Salaam Remi/ Benga dubstep beat she pasted her vocals on on the ’09 leak “Me N My”), rather than feature ho-hum repeatings of the tried-and-true, a category in which the newly leaked “Fire” falls.

Don’t get us wrong, as far as re-igniting the interest of faded-away audiences, “Fire” does a decent job: Its backing beat gives a sleek, Southern(-rap)-fried spin to White Stripes’ “Seven Nation Army” instrumental; the hook (“All y’all can spell my name/ E-V-E, ain’t nothing changed”) carries a certain double-dutch chant charm; and, in Eve’s rhymes, there’s a flicker of that old “pitbull in a skirt” we first fell in love with over ten years ago as she coolly dismisses grapevine gab of her retiring from the rap game (“What, you thought I gave it up?/ Like I was done and over?/ Guess I done fucked up your luck/ Better throw out your four leaf clover…”).

It’s just that, in our heads, we’d much rather have this street buzz-ish banger be the jump-off for a comeback-themed mixtape collection, where it could help build excitement for an official LP full of true game-changing efforts in a similar vein as aforementioned delights “Tambourine” and “Me N My”.

DL: “Fire” (alt)

Bonus DL: Eve featuring Missy Elliott, Fabolous & Swizz Beatz “Tambourine (Remix)” (alt)

While we would have been perfectly fine with Eve re-entering the game with something on par with her brilliant 2007 single “Tambourine” (from that never-released Here I Am project), the once-self-proclaimed “pitbull in the skirt” has curiously opted on bringing her lengthy hiatus to a close instead with “Me N My”, a dubstep (!!!) record jointly helmed by Salaam Remi and genre beat-crafter Benga (it swipes the backing track from the latter’s Diary of An Afro Warrior album cut “E Trips”) that never quite gels into the left-field mind-blower it seems to think it is.

To be fair, “Me N My”‘s faults don’t necessarily fall on it’s fierce beat (a juttering riddim that grabs hold of a creepy, “creatures stalking you in a dark alley-way” type of menacing club vibe), but Eve’s inability to bring much to it. Soullessly rapped musings about how her and her bitches get down at the hot nightspot might work for a hook, but when stretched over two verses and choruses that numbingly meld into one long lyric, her contribution completely bores, making us long for a cameo from Missy Elliott, MIA or Santigold to help color the production with their own respective weirdo-chant pizazz.

We’re all for American rappers trying to experiment with different styles (especially long-missed female ones), but when it sounds like your heart’s not really all that into it (both the track and re-entering the game), we say step aside and let an actually hungry emcee have the honors.

DL: “Me N My (Up In The Club)” (alt)

With her lean, athletic build and pure tone, Kelly Rowland managed to build an audience of her own in Destiny’s Child’s later years even though she repeatedly came up distant runner up when Beyonce was in close proximity. But now that she’s going back down the solo route, why is she having such a hard time breaking out of her shell, like she can’t shuffle the background role?

Avoiding the alt-soul accents that riddled her mostly ignored debut, Kelly attempts a more accessible urban guise on it’s important follow-up Miss Kelly, insuring herself good fortune with a surrounding of the hip hop bankable. Lead single “Like This” features sudden top gun Polow Da Don in the producer’s chair and a recently returned Eve offering their support on a semi-charming anthemic record that re-defines the singer as a smoldering, sassy diva.

Tossing off weak-kneed boyfriends with the ease of the independent woman she once claimed to be (“The ring/ Let it go bout three months ago”), Rowland orders a ladies night out to celebrate sisterhood while the boys ogle on from the sidelines too afraid to dare interrupt them. Rocking an understated cool, she knowingly winks at those who underestimated her on a laidback hook (“Y’all didn’t think that I could bump like this”), but the inner fire she seems to hint at never comes to fruition. Only a sharp one-word outburst during the delightfully, jangly portions of the chorus find Rowland acting like she’s paid her dues and is ready to shine.

The rest of the track makes her feel hidden, stuck behind the curtain like if she truly goes for her all, Beyonce will erupt out of nowhere and trump her with some over-embellished note and sizzling booty shake. She even takes a backseat to Eve who brings a nondescript verse to the table she could’ve wrote in her sleep.

“Like This” still has the potential to be a modest hit, it’s wayward groove carrying a nice crunk-lite feel, but Rowland annoyingly doesn’t announce herself the way she had on DC smashes like “Soldier” and “Lose My Breath” or on the sexy “Like This” video clip. It’s true, she might not have as convincing a larger-than-life presence as her DC sister, but having a guarded up presence a la lesser singers Cassie and Lumidee isn’t a befitting move either. If Kelly wants to have a notable career away from the group, it’s time she drop the coy act and really bring it, or she’ll see her window of people actually giving a damn close indefinitely.

Every once in awhile the planets align just right and Swizz Beatz unleashes a banger that solidifies him as one of hip hop’s strongest producers. That time arrives once again on his reunion with Ruff Ryder’s First Lady as she gets ready to release her first album in five years. Behind “Tambourine”, Eve’s first single since she took a liking to memorizing scripts, Swizz ends up doing too well of a job, though, relegating Eve to the sidelines on her own comeback track.

A tasty club joint, Swizz pulls together a collage of busy sounds that hold together nicely. Loud sirens, click-clacking percussion and infectious vocal chants grab you from the beginning, pushing a party atmosphere that’s undeniably ear-friendly and hard to sit still to. Swizz feels like he’s having fun, tooting his own horn as he cut and pastes the layers in subtly tweaked formulas without ever messing up the song’s central bite.

As the production is so overbearing, Eve should’ve hit the ground running, but she barely registers, popping up here-and-there like she’s double-dutching and looking for a good enough opening to start doing her thing. Swizz’ delirious beat doesn’t afford her much breathing room and so when she does hit the mic, her contribution never truly affirms itself. It doesn’t help that she’s showing no growth since her last outing, stuck in amateur “no haters allowed” rhetoric that’s too simplistic to steal attention away from the track’s polyrhythmic soundbed.

Things fare much better on buzz single “Cash Flow”, a nice duet with TI that instills hope that the glare of Hollywood hasn’t completely blinded Eve from remembering the “pitbull in a skirt” she defiantly entered the rap game as. Swizz is on board yet again (sirens still intact), but here he takes more of a backburner role giving TI and Eve the space they need. Though she feels a little stiff in comparison to TI’s always effortless flow, she still drops sharp lines (“You can’t act crazy thinkin it’s a game/ But it”s too clear gimmicks in yo lane/ Tricks, it’s ova/ This is my year”) that prove all is not lost.

“Tambourine” could’ve rightfully caused worry that one of the few likable female rappers out there had lost her touch, but the arrogant “Cash Flow” shows otherwise. Thanks to her return, we have more than the ladies from Crime Mob to look forward to in giving 2007 some much needed femcee perspective.