mixtape maestro (2.0)

If Mariah had really wanted to boost sales and some chart longevity from the mostly public-ignored Memoirs of an Imperfect Angel (rather than quickly move on to it’s guest-laden, all-remixes sequel Angels Advocate), she would have been smart to unleash set highlight “Ribbon” as an official single: it’s seducing, slow-motion flow and chopped-n-screwed hook saw Carey and co-album collaborators The-Dream and Chris “Tricky” Stewart at the peak of their combined powers, and felt like a serious R&B smash waiting to happen.

Alas, she didn’t…but all is not lost, as the diva has only upgraded the track’s future hit potential greatly under this new Advocate revision.

It’s addictive hook sadly doesn’t make it’s first appearance until the track is half-way done, but it’s hard to fuss about that too much when the remix’ front-end is loaded with great turns at the mic from Ludacris (who, curiously, makes much more of an impact littering uzi-fire rhymes and animated vocal tricks atop “Ribbon”’s crawling midnight groove, than he does on his own oh-so-paint-by-numbers recent material) and Dream (who, as on “My Love” and the “Touch My Body (Remix)”, continues to prove to be one of Carey’s better duet partners [especially on the fade-out here], despite the huge gap in vocal ranges between the two).

Angels Advocate arrives, exclusively through Target & iTunes, March 30th.

DL: “Ribbon (Remix)” (alt)

Uncategorized angels advocate, ludacris, mariah carey, sex-rap, the-dream, tricky stewart

Oh Ludacris, where has your mojo gone to?

Like previous single “How Low”, the Atlanta rapper’s latest Battle of The Sexes drop “My Chick Bad” finds him once again wasting a solid, albeit elementary, vocal-tweaked hook with Auto-Pilot verses. The track’s premise, all about how his girl is better than everyone else’s, is already a tired one, but whereas Luda at his previous lyrical heights would’ve given such a been-there-done-that theme a fresh spin bulging with funny-bone-tickling one-liners, here, he comes up empty at nearly every attempt (with only a brief dig at Tiger Wood’s wife landing as semi-rewind-worthy).

Alas, “My Chick Bad” is ultimately rescued by the always-entertaining, animated pipsqueak flow of Nicki Minaj, who pops up on the tail end quickly taking home Best Couplet prize with her opening mic salvo (“Yo, now all these bitches wanna try and be my bestie/ But I take a left and leave them hanging like a testi”) while cleverly using the track’s horror-flick bassline cycles as songwriting inspiration (“It’s nightmare on Elm street and guess who’s playing Freddy?”).

Hate to say it, but this track would have been better served as a solo Nicki single instead with Luda given the one verse cameo (since that seems to be the only time he gives us his A-game these days).

Battle of The Sexes drops March 9th.

Uncategorized battle of the sexes, ludacris, nicki minaj, southern rap

Coming off what many considered 2009’s top R&B release (Love Vs. Money), it’s hard not to be left a little underwhelmed by “Love King”, the first single and title track to The-Dream’s next (and possibly last) album.

Built atop a floaty, snap-laden midtempo groove perked with candied piano plinks and punctuating “Ey”’s, the song is nothing more than a cut-and-paste patchwork of the singer/ songwriter/ producer/ “ey”-er’s usual bag o’ musical quirks, this time tied together by a thin concept (The-Dream has tons and tons of chicks at his beck and call) that’s in dire need of much stronger goofball lyricism than “Got girls with weaves/…Girls without it” and “Got girls on my Sprint/ My AT&T/ Got girls on T-Mobile/ Metro if it’s local”.

Yeah, it’s “Shawty Is The Shit”-meets-”Rockin’ That Thing” soundbed is perfect riding-to material, but if The-Dream really wants to finally nab some Grammy nods this time around (we, the people, can only endure so many Twitter rants), he’s going to have to conclude his solo album trilogy on the high note it demands with far better offerings than watered-down regurgitations from the same stylistic template.

Love King drops in May.

DL: “Love King” (alt)

If it’s any consolation though Dream, we’re definitely digging you’re rap verse on this all-star “How Low (Remix)”:

BONUS DL: Ludacris featuring Rick Ross, Twista, The-Dream, Ciara & Pitbull “How Low (Remix)” (alt)

Uncategorized ciara, love king, ludacris, pitbull, posse cut, R&B, rick ross, southern rap, the-dream, twista

It seems like only yesterday when Ludacris could be found consistently dropping dimes on hungry banger cravers, his seemingly endless supply of varied cartoonish flow inflections and XXX-soaked comedic rap banter pulling out some of the greatest hooks and sixteens throughout the ’00’s urban music landscape. Hell, to grant him a guest spot on your own record basically guaranteed you to be forgotten once he entered the frame.

For “How Low” though, the curiously basic first single from Luda’s upcoming seventh studio album Battle of the Sexes, he’s the one being upstaged…and it’s by a chipmunk-ed chant hook no less.

On paper, “How Low”’s chorus doesn’t read all that interesting. A helium voice set to a double-time beat inquiring how close ladies can gyrate their ass to the floor without falling over? What is this, a late-’80’s/ early-90’s 2 Live Crew record? Yet every time it emerges, promising an instant break-out in good-time debauchery in it’s every repeat, it kills; it’s novel concept so ridiculously catchy, you’re anticipation for it’s return completely overrides the overall flatness of the verses’ horndog lyrical display (sounds like somebody’s in need of some re-inspiration) or how unnecessary it’s succeeding b-hook is.

The fact that a Ludacris record is in existence in which we actually wish it had less Ludacris does ring a tad alarming (triggering some worry of how the rest of the so far un-leaked Battles will fare), but with a hook as addicting as the one “How Low”’s got, we’re more than happy to give the emcee a passing grade…this time.

Battle of the Sexes is due this March.

Ludacris: How Low (Official Video) from DTP TV on Vimeo.

Bonus DL: Snoop featuring Jay-Z & Ludacris “I Wanna Rock (Remix)” (alt)

Uncategorized ludacris, make it rain, southern rap

With the return of Maxwell in 2009 giving male falsetto-led slow jam R&B it’s rightful throne-holder back, it almost feels unnecessary for Alan Thicke’s son to even be around anymore offering his comparably inferior take on the form.

Still, we’ll give Robin this: his fourth album lead single/ title track “Sex Therapy” slithers and seduces in all the right places, blending yet another retread of the steady-pulsing late-night R&B groove behind Ciara’s “Promise” (producer Polow Da Don helmed both), a brief lyrical nod to Twilight, and a hook inspired by Lesley Gore’s 1963 No. 1 “It’s My Party” (“It’s your body/ We’ll go hard if you want to/ As hard as you want to…”) with far more successful (and less hilarious) results than a merging of the three might seem on paper.

For the inevitable guest rap-laden remix, Thicke even has the smarts to employ Ludacris, who, even as he edges long-in-the-tooth rapper status, still manages to come out with goofy XXX winners like “Got the banana/ Now let me split you” that the tween-aged schoolyard set can no doubt appreciate.

Sex Therapy is in stores now.

DL: “Sex Therapy (Remix)” (alt)

Uncategorized blue-eyed soul, grown folks R&B, ludacris, remix, robin thicke, sex jam, sex-rap

What’s the hottest R&B sex jam of the moment? Well, that honor would probably have to fall on “Birthday Sex” by Chicago newcomer Jeremih.

It may not be the most original of it’s ilk-R. Kelly, T-Pain or The-Dream could have all tossed this one out in their sleep, and with better, more-outlandish XXX metaphors than “Girl without a broom I might just sweep you off yo feet/ And make you wanna tell somebody how I do”-but the combination of that sensual groove with it’s titular gift theme has enough going for it to get the mood started.

Of course, some horny-minded rapper would have to bless the remix, and while this would probably be the perfect opportunity for another raunchy Ludacris cameo, it’s Fabolous who jumps on board first, kicking off this 2.0 take with a mean-spirited (but kind-of cool) joke we wouldn’t dare say to any girlfriend (“My shorty called me like ‘You know what’s bout to come-come-come-come’/ I said ‘Your friend, shit, lemme come get some-some-some-some’”) as well as lines about “pussy reservations” and, in what’s disappointingly the lone B.J. reference offered here, the “blow”-ing out of “candles”.

DL: “Birthday Sex (Remix)” (alt)

Uncategorized chicago, fabolous, jeremih, ludacris, R&B, sex jam, sex-rap

We all know that Kells has some troubling personal issues and if the images from that infamous leaked tape are as true as they seem, he deserves to spend some time behind bars. Yet, because he is such a consistently satisfying musician mega-miles beyond his closest competition and able to milk creamy R&B confections and awesomely ridiculous hip hop anthems without breaking a sweat, we’ve opted on separating the predator from the artist to justify our continued support over his music.

Double Up album track “Freaky In The Club” is one of the reasons why we have chosen such a blind, semi-forgivable stance. The song might carry an uncomfortable title for a man in his position, but beyond it’s silly, sex-crazed imagery, the track rides a eloquent melody that blankets your soul in the same happy warmth that steppers’ grooves like “Step In The Name of Love” and “Happy People” pleasantly delivered. Illustrating the stimulating body language of today’s forbidden dance: slow winding, Kelly flirts with a tidy, reggae two-step comfortably nestled in romancing horns and jerky drums. It’s utterly magical and testament to the man’s amazing ability to find something new within the same soul man parameters he’s mastered in the past fifteen years.

On “Rock Star”, Robert takes a cue from the Shop Boyz’ heavy metal-meets-crunk idea, producing an addictive “rock, hop & b” fusion as the basis for more pornographic pleasing. Unlike “Freaky”, the track’s dark, guitar-addled edge welcomes it’s mature subject matter, Luda’s XXX-rated, animated flow (“I’ll strip you/ I’ll strip you down to your bare minimum/ And I’ll lick you/ I’ll lick you down/ Ya taste like cinnamon”) a perfect partner to Robert’s typical horny fervor. An out-of-nowhere appearance from Kid Rock in the third quarter invites a brief burst of cock rock posing that’s a little beyond Robert’s reach (What?! Something he can’t do well?!), but it quickly rights itself towards the fade-out as the guitars hit a new intensity level and Robert puts on his best MJ impression, bellowing “I’m a rock star baby!!” amidst high-pitched yelps and whoops that don’t nearly get as campy as they sound on paper.

With tracks as solid as these, it looks like R&B’s top dog will continue to remain just as beloved, overriding our better judgment with stand-out material we can’t help but enjoy. Hopefully, when that sentencing ever does reach it’s day, the R. will have enough gems like these stashed away to keep us entertained even while he’s forced to confront the psyche behind his sick crimes within the inner sanctum of a prison. How crazy is a wish as that? No other artist today could leave us as flustered in self-conflict as Robert Kelly has.

Download: “Freaky In The Club” (Amazon)
Download: “Rock Star” (Amazon)

Uncategorized double up, grown folks R&B, ludacris, r. kelly, rock & b, sex jam

Release Therapy was a decent enough album, but Best Rap Album Grammy worthy? Naw, that honor should have befallen Ghostface Killah’s much more impressive Fishscale. But even if Ludacris hasn’t quite figured out a way to construct a great album, when it comes to singles (and cameos), few can touch him.

“Slap” finds Luda in the midst of a bad day. Thankfully he avoids Daniel Powter piano mope, but he does trump the textbook seriousness of his “Brenda’s Got A Baby”-knockoff “Runaway Love” with a much more convincing look at the dark side of human nature, finding a way to embed his signature off-the-wall banter to offset it’s depressive content.

A slow-paced banger heightened with G funk whine and electric guitar riffs that bristle with the feeling of a man about to blow, Luda teeters on the edge of extreme violence as everything seems to be going wrong around him. As the song continues, his anger ascends in scope. He hates his job, his baby mama is irritating, gas prices are too high and someone just broke into his car (“How am I supposed to survive/ When I know that my stereo’s taken away?”). Wine might grow better with age, but your problems don’t and Luda’s battle with Father Time is getting the best of him (“I’m where I wanna be in my life/ But why am I so behind?/ Is it cause I’m wasting my time away?”) while an increased political awareness has made the future loom much more darker than ever. It’s enough to drive a man to drink, so how ironic that this yearn to slap random people is Luda’s most sobering offering yet. For those perturbed that Luda will always be more about style over substance, “Slap” convinces that a change is on the horizon.

“Slap” may bring about more versatility in Ludacris’ artillery, but we all know what we want from a Luda rap: songs advertising society at it’s most raucous and nasty. He delivers that on “Girls Gone Wild”, a relentless freaker that celebrates life’s wild size. The Neptunes produce an electrifying arrangement of spaced out funk over farting basslines and it’s nothing but a playground for the rapper’s acrobatic flow, slowing down and speeding up in an effort to get strippers as many dollar bills as possible. “You’re wetter than a storm/ Like you was takin’ X”, he sinfully rhymes, gleefully throwing Bill O Reilly a new bone to bust a vein to.

As effortless as “Girls Gone Wild” is pulled off, though, you can’t help but feel that Luda has little interest in such debauchery anymore. Tired of being looked at as rap’s go-to comic relief, look for him to focus more on “Slap”-type songs in the future. This shifting of the guard proves somewhat worrisome, given Luda is at his best when he’s giving us something fun to chant to, but as long as he entertains us every once in a while with his expert riotous anthems, he won’t feel the sharp pain of consumers slapping him across the face with diminished interest.

Uncategorized ludacris, neptunes, southern rap