I'll Be Your Black Panther All In Your Dreams, or, Blogging About Premo While Drunk From The Night Before

Remember how good Famlay's 'Skrung Owt' was? Where is Fam-Lay now? I just thought of that as the phrase "come on, space cadet" drifted through my mind. He also had this one other really great song the beat of which Noz once likened to the sound of a shipyard. I wish I remember what that was called. There's this amazing write-up on The Smoking Section comparing a song by A-Rab to a song by Lil B, flawed only slightly by its authors' apparent view that Lil B is some kind of bad rapper, that you should really read. Perhaps it's because I'm drunk but I actually laughed out loud when I read that in the Arab song, Arab actually says "you hard nigga? Faggot on the low/my money, my time." If I were not white and not surrounded by little gay law students (literally, little gay law students) I would so go around just saying that to everyone. Constantly. It's like, what in the world was he thinking linking these two concepts together.

Anyway, I saw this Premo mix from Sach on Passion of the Weiss and the whole shit was post-98 Premo except for two songs. All stuff from the era when getting a beat from Premo was like the capstone of a rapper's career and he'd scratch the rapper saying something into a hook and the rapper would ruminate on his long and illustrious career. Sorry I repeated a word there. Like 'Invincible.' (Seriously, you have to love rappers and their outsized sense of importance and self-worth. I mean, the invincible untouchable CNN? They made one album.... it was good.... kind of sounded just like certain other albums made by way more talented artists that were much better... and then that was that. And then they come back and they're the invincible, untouchable CNN? That's why I love rap.) So over there I wrote, fairly coherently (it's weird, I get more drunk as the day progresses):

The symphonic, sheeny, ‘Nas Is Like,’ ‘Sixth Sense,’ Moment of Truth Premo to me is just an infinitely less interesting producer than the Premo who made ‘Who’s Gonna Take The Weight,’ ‘Rappaz R N Danja,’ ‘Brownsville,’ ‘Black Cowboys,’ ‘ALONGWAYTOGO,’ ‘Supa Star,’ etc. Somewhere between Hard To Earn and Moment of Truth, his beats get a lot more predictable and to me basically become the aural equivalent of really good comfort food. Whereas listening to Hard To Earn or Livin Proof is a pretty challenging experience.

Which I think is very true. (I should think so, I said it.) And raises the always fun "what are Premo's Greatest Hits" question. In that regard, I'll tell you an absurd story about myself. When I failed out of Duke, I really wasn't that badly off, just depressed as shit (and not even that depressed by the end of the semester but enough damage had been done). Naturally, however, I wasn't too happy about being kicked out, and told no one I knew from high school, though people did eventually find out in a rather traumatic and upsetting way, but that's a different story. Anyway, on top of lying about still being at Duke, I started lying to people at Duke about what a great time I was having back home, and eventually lost touch with reality to a great extent, although I don't really think I was ever full-on delusional. One of the odd stories I made up, no idea why, is that I met a gorgeous girl who said she'd fuck me if I made her what she considered to be a perfect Premo mixtape. This never happened, but for some strange reason I actually started making the tape, and at this point it's hard for me to entirely remember that the girl never existed. Mental illness sucks. Fortunately no longer a problem (much). Anyway, to come up with a serious list I'd have to actually go back and listen to the Gang Starr/Jeru albums, but here is a very preliminary sketch of what I think are Premo's best tracks.

Too Short - In The Trunk (Premo Remix)
Jeru - Come Clean, Me Or The Papes
Nas - N.Y. State of Mind, 2nd Childhood
Bone Thugs - 1st Of The Month (Premo Remix)
Fat Joe - Shit Is Real (Premo Remix)
Group Home - Supa Star, Up Against The Wall (Getaway Car Mix)
KRS One - Rappaz R N Dainja
Crooklyn Dodgers - Return Of The Crooklyn Dodgers
Jay-Z - Bring It On, Intro/Hand It Down
M.O.P. - Brownsville, Follow Instructions
Craig David - 7 Days (Premo Remix)
Jaz O & The Immobilarie - Love Is Gone
Teriyaki Boys - You Know What Time Is It
Gang Starr - Manifest (Remix), Who's Gonna Take The Weight, The Place Where We Dwell, ALONGWAYTOGO, Mass Appeal, The ? Remains, Words From The Ghetto Child, Rite Where U Stand.

The Tiger Ad

What is the Tiger sex scandal about? I think it's always been pretty obvious that the only reason Tiger's affairs are a scandal is that he's a black man playing a white man's sport, and married to a white woman. Emphasis on white man's sport and white woman. Nobody cares that Michael Jordan cheated on his wife; most people don't remember he had a wife. No one cares that Kobe cheated on his, that Shaq cheated on his, no one cared when Superhead talked about fucking a married Allen Iverson in her book. No one even cares that there are people in the NFL who killed people. That's just what basketball and football players do. And fine, it is, and I'd be okay if the reason white people didn't care was because they just didn't care about athletes' infidelity (why should we? These guys aren't preachers or even politicians), but I'm afraid the real reason is something way more along the lines of, "those guys are animals married to other animals, who cares if Animal A is unfaithful to Animal B, I still enjoy watching him jump with his freakish animal skills." How else do you explain Tiger? It isn't even that golf's this more genteel sport and that we expect more of golfers or tennis players, no one gives a fuck if Phil Mickelson cheats on his model wife, if Andy Roddick cheats on his long-time model girlfriend. It's not that Tiger's such a big star that he plays by different rules, no one cared about Muhammad Ali's infidelities. It's that he's a black guy playing a very white game and married to a seemingly nice, non-bimbo Swedish woman and therefore he's got to be extra well-behaved. I mean, when else in the history of the fucking world has a man given a press conference to talk about cheating on his wife? I can think of Bill Clinton and 80s televangelist Jimmy Swaggart. If you actually think about it for a second it's utterly absurd. People act like 20 cocktail waitresses is a lot of cocktail waitresses. How many times have you heard some idiot on TV say that "the women keep coming and coming"? We're talking about 20 women over a six year period, that's about a new waitress every three months. And that's a sex addiction he needs to be in a clinic for, when maybe 50 such women throw themselves at him a day? It's pretty absurd.

So Nike stands by Tiger, and why the fuck not, who can better sell sports gear and golf balls, and now that they have a hold over him, being his biggest and only huge sponsor deal left, they actually get the guy to stand for 30 seconds and sniffle into a camera while audio of his dead father plays asking him what he's learned. If you were going to lose respect for Tiger, now is the time. Imagine if someone came to you and said they'd found some audio of your deceased father and they'd like it if you'd stand there while dead Pops gave you a little talking-to about cheating on your wife on national television. If you do that for them and consent to your father's voice being used in this way, they'll give you a ton of money. Who accepts that? And the worst part of it is, you know damn well that Tiger didn't put up a fight, probably didn't even mind the idea, but rather is thinking, "aw shit, what a clever idea, this can build up my brand back because now I'll seem HUMAN. As I have not in my insanely robotic and overcoached statements on this matter." A lot of commentary on this ad tomorrow will say that Nike is pimping Tiger, that this is all about the (white) corporation doing really sick shit so they can salvage the value of their black pitchman, but Tiger acquiesced and probably for the same reasons that Nike thinks this is a good idea. Which of course it is, the ad is brilliant. Through this ad, Nike becomes not only the brand of Just Doing It, but of life as the school of hard knocks, of learning your lesson and facing up to shit like a man (which is another flavor of Just Doing It), of painful defeat and the big comeback. It's probably the best sports ad in years. And easily the most reprehensible. Then again, maybe not. Consider Tiger's agency in this regard. Let's suppose that Tiger is sincerely sorry about what he did, and wishes he knew how to say so more articulately. Maybe he likes this ad, not just for the sake of the money it will save him, but because it's his way of saying he's sorry, the only way he knows how, through the voice of an ad agency. If so I think you have to respect his choice, though I don't see why he need apologize to us, and I'm not crazy about the use of his father.

....

A Boring Tray Weekend Story

I was going home from the gym to change into something to wear at our one bar when I was stopped by a familiar voice that asked, "is 23 your favorite number?" And I was like, what, why, and she was like, because your screenname is traydeuce on toplawschools. It only occurred to me, like, 20 minutes later that she should've been asking me whether my favorite number was 32. But anyway I explained that my name was Asher which became Ashtray which became Tray and one day when I was listening to Cam's 'Family Ties,' by no means one of my favorite Purple Haze songs but a song with its moments to be sure I heard Cam say something about a trey-deuce and I was like, THAT'S my new AOL screenname! (Plus some numbers I'm not giving out here.) And she said, I think I know that song, and I was like, ohmygodareyouaCamfan? And she said sort of, and then compared him to Drake... which was a relief because I don't really want to become infatuated with anyone in the weeks before I leave so any huge flaws in this quite charming girl, like liking Drake, were quite welcome news to me. After changing into my douchey preppy outfit and loafers, I walked over to the bar and on my way what do I hear but a nice Drake song. Dear readers, I was just appalled at what a bad rapper Drake was. Drake, not, like, really being a rapper, but rather more of some kind of robot who seems to have applied the lessons he learned in acting class about enunciation and clear diction to his recording career, says everything so clearly that if a car is speeding by you you can hear everything he says exactly and go home and google the lyrics and find the song. This is actually pretty rare if you think of all the times you've turned on the radio and heard some cool song by Gucci or OJ you wanted to download when you got home and you listen and listen hoping to hear some clear understandable phrase you can type in to Google, and it's just like, ssdfjsdwgesdgfBRICKSsdfwewettesyeahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. Which is cool, that sort of thing has grown on me. Now some rappers have clear diction, like Nas or Jay, but none sound like they're on a stage heeding the lesson of their high school theater teacher to say everything twice as slowly as they think they should so the granny in the back can hear. Drake however does, and this really underscores how much his lyrics suck. He also has this habit of EMPHASIZING every word at the end of every line, sometimes because these words are supposedly clever punchlines, but sometimes just because that's just what he does. So when the car passed by blaring these lines my jaw just dropped at the suckiness on display:

We just took our first trip to the AMALFI COAST,
couple days on the beach then it's ADIOS,
killer, just look what i DONE ALONE,
you would swear we planted trees the way the MONEY GROWN,
we been busy like some bees no HONEYCOMB,
and you could probably feel the breeze when the MONEY'S BLOW'N

We been busy like some bees no HONEYCOMB?? You can't be serious. On that note, see this hilarious list of top ten fake Drake lyrics. Favorites include "you only move grams - wheelchair," "I run this paper business - Michael Scott," "Just do it. Nike," and really best of all, "[corporate slogan] [corporate name]." Can't you really hear him doing the last one? Corporate SLOGAN, corporate NAME... jump around, you are in the house of PAIN....

Those Are Not For Suzi, Those Are For The Gentleman

I've been meaning to do a full-scale piece on Saboteur, probably Hitchcock's most underrated film (nobody, not even the French critics who liked Topaz, has ever to my knowledge mounted a defense of it) and sort of an intriguingly off-key minor masterpiece, but as exams come, and then the week after that I'll be working for a judge on the Third Circuit, I don't know if I'll have the time. So in the meantime I wanted to leave you with these frames. Saboteur is one of Hitchcock's many wrong man thrillers (a crime is charged to the wrong man), though it's not very thrilling and we never feel much sympathy for the wrong man. In this scene, the wrong man is arrested at the home of the right man, the titular saboteur. As the right man, the bad man, exchanges smarmy pleasantries with the police, his baby granddaughter reaches to the handcuffs on the wrong man's wrists, as if to remove them, and begins to cry. To which the bad man creepily says, "no Suzi, those are not for Suzi. Those are for the gentleman," as he gives an evil look at the wrong man. It strikes me these images are among Hitchcock's most powerful and haunting of evil, injustice, but most interestingly, and this is a theme that comes up throughout the film, a kind of intuitive, innate sense (here on the baby's part) of right and wrong. Which raises really interesting questions as to how this Rousseauvian belief in man's innate decency fits into a filmography that's generally been seen as putting forth a pretty pessimstic and dark view of humanity.

I Still Have A Few Thoughts On Music (And Healthcare!)

So I [was] home for spring break and [was] listening to new music for the first time in two months (I don't drive down here; if I did I'd constantly be tempted to drive away). The most striking thing about pop radio at the moment, from a rap-centric perspective, is how little rap there is on it. Aside from 'Bedrock,' 'How Low,' 'Say Something,' and 'Nothin On You,' and I don't even know if I would categorize those as rap songs so much as pop songs with something that sounds like rapping on them, there's really no rap out there. And even on rap stations, there's incredibly little rapping. I've heard 'Women Lie Men Lie,' 'Lemonade,' and 'O Let's Do It' a total of three times, the above-mentioned pseudo-rap songs about a hundred times, and then the rest is Rihanna and all these Chris Brown imitators. Perhaps surprisingly, I don't see this as a bad thing at all. Instead of looking this in the old stupid terms of, "the only rappers who sell these days are the ones who sing into autotune, and that's why all my favorite rappers either have no career anymore or are being forced to make these terrible pop concessions," I think this is an opportunity for rap. With the genre as unpopular as it is, trend-chasing becomes futile for all but a mostly undeserving few that still manages to move large amounts of product, freeing rappers up to make their own artistic choices in an attempt to at least hold on to their core fans. You see this with projects like Cuban Linx 2 and The Stimulus Project, not that I liked The Stimulus Project much. Of course, the risk is that rap will become a little too traditionalist and everybody will start to sound like a bad imitation of themselves (see The Stimulus Project). But that's better than the old superproducer potpourri approach to making an album. So for the first time in a while I'm kind of optimstic about rap's future, although I don't really hear any actual music bearing that optimism out and it is a little scary when you can spend a week in Philadelphia and the only verses you hear on the rado from a rapper born above the Mason-Dixon line (and below the U.S./Canada border) are Jae Millz's on 'Bedrock' and Nicki Minaj's countless crappy guest spots. (Oh, and one kind of solid Cassidy comeback attempt, and that awful song with Lloyd Banks and Juelz.)

So on to some actual songs. I really do enjoy 'Bedrock,' Drake's verse notwithstanding. My Drake-hatred currently centers around the line, "I love your sushi roll, hotter than wasaaaaaaabi," but truthfully that line, while dumb, wouldn't bother me at all if put in the mouth of Gudda Gudda. The issue is more that Drake just exudes "this guy has no business being a rapper"-ness every time he speaks. Does he sound too suburban, too privileged, too Canadian? All of the above, I guess. What it comes down to is that I believe that rap is really about the poor to lower-middle-class American black experience and people who sound like Will Smith's nerdy brother from Fresh Prince should not be rappers. Unless you want to honestly rap about your background and how that makes you different from other rappers. But you can't just sneak in to the genre and pretend that no one notices you don't belong. It'd be like if one of Obama's daughters joined the 2020 equivalent of Crime Mob ten years from now. I would also append my comment on somanyshrimp's excellent post on Drake's sucky rapping:

I think you could find some equally embarrassing punchlines from some much-beloved 90s rappers, to say nothing of people like Jeezy or Wayne before, not after, your opinion of him soured. So I wouldn’t say the real problem with Drake is how lyrically deficient he is, as someone else could pull that crap off. (Though maybe no one can pull off two thumbs up, ebert and roeper.) I think it’s actually more the laser-guided delivery that Dombal praises that, like you say, hangs them out there for the picking in this really self-impressed, self-congratulatory way. I only heard the song we’re talking about once, but I’m sure he pauses between two thumbs up and Ebert and Roeper for half a beat in a “wait for it, it’s really good, here the punchline comes… Ebert and ROEPER, wow, I killed that!!!” way. While Wayne can say he’s in the building like the audience (bad example, but he did much worse even in his prime) and it’s okay because it’s just a part of his train of thought, not this pseudo-aha moment.

But back to 'Bedrock,' a few things. Lloyd is head and shoulders above all the other r&b singing young men and I wish he would put out more music. When he first came out, I was like, who is this clown who sounds like the black sixth member of the Beegees, but then he made 'Get It Shawty' and 'Girls All Around The World' and now I'm a huge fan. The rapping... I mean, the rapping isn't really rapping. They're all basically singing along with the melody of the beat. You hear a lot of this day in pop-rap, these super gimmicky only for one song flows. But that said, it works here and if you think of this as a pop ditty rather than worrying about whether any of these people can rap the song works much better. Nicki's the only one who tries to get outside the box a bit and that fails. I don't get why she randomly changes her voice 3 times a verse. Like what's with the "me on my LOW STARCH" part? She's really just becoming the same collection of the same three gimmicks on everything she does. Gudda Gudda, on the other hand, gets more fun to listen to the worse he raps. And I enjoy Jae Millz's almost Bob Dylan-esque emphasis on everything ("Miss Indepennnnnnndent, and yeah she got her ownnnnnnn").

'Nothin On You' is kind of indistinguishable from a Drake song; the only thing that gives it any personality is B.O.B.'s accent and the fact that he raps a lot like one of the guys in Field Mob, I forget which. There's a sincerity there. But lyrically it's extremely autopilot. A few details about this girl whom all the beautiful girls all over the world have nothing on would be appreciated. Otherwise why is one supposed to listen? For the awful hook from the guy who sounds like Matthew Santos?

'Women Lie Men Lie' is a fantastic song. There's a reason Yo Gotti is one of the last five or so rappers standing who can actually get his shit on the radio; he's a really good rapper.

'Tik Tok,' 'Blah Blah,' etc. If you took one of the girls off Jersey Shore and locked her in a room with some okay house producers, do you really suppose the results would be any worse than this? I can't be down with someone this talentless and dumb.

'Do You Remember' is a solid 'Forever' remake. Good to hear Lil Jon on the airwaves.

I'm a huge fan of the last two Rihanna singles. As I've said in the past, I used to feel that Rihanna was a video model/softcore stripper who sang, and up until and including 'Run This Town' that was still very much my assessment. What the fuck is she talking about on 'Run This Town,' she sounds like one of those girls you sit next to in class whose life consists of looking at facebook pictures of herself taken the night before. Like oh my god, I was sooooo the 823rd hottest girl in that club. I really ran the town last night. Such vapidity is just objectively uninteresting to hear about when put into song. But with 'Hard' and 'Rude Boy' I feel she's taken a huge step forward towards having a personality and a non-detestable one at that, sort of a Terminatrix of pop look. To the point where her singing about sex has become this "I'm bored, can't you get it up already" shit, as opposed to the skankiness of Rihannas past.

Timbaland has obviously run out of gas for the moment, but you already know this.

I'm starting to become reconciled to the dribs and drabs of Blueprint 3 I hear as this sort of rap starter kit for rich white children who know nothing about rap to get into rap. I just see too many Facebook photo albums from friends at Columbia Law or wherever who know absolutely nothing about music but are really really pumped to go to a Jay-Z concert and caption all their photos with lines from 'Young Forever.' Yeah, it's really terrible rapping, but maybe we can forgive him that because (a) he's not trying anymore and is basically creating some kind of new pseudo-rap over Coldplay-esque beats genre, (b) because he is actually saying something in his dim, bloated exec, 50,000 feet above Earth way.

Finally, on healthcare, I have no idea if that crap will actually work or not, there are bajillions of ways the whole thing could blow up, but I do think it's really admirable that the Democrats went ahead and did it, many of them risking their jobs. It's reassuring to see that it's still possible to pass major legislation, and frankly I felt almost a little patriotic for a couple days after it got passed. Of course the whole thing is a grand bargain between insurers and drug companies and doctors so it's a little hard to see it as a shining idealistic moment for American democracy, but in a way it is, and I was actually pretty thrilled to see the House Democrats prove me wrong and pretty dismayed to see how hopelessly retarded the critique of this thing from most conservative quarters has been. Though to be sure if you look around there are some really bright conservative economists who can tell you why the bill may be a disaster, but their arguments aren't what you're hearing, whereas "it's socialist" or "the founding fathers [the fucking founding fathers!] would have disapproved" are. Pathetic. The worst to me, as a philosophy major, is when I hear that there's no right to healthcare, ergo we shouldn't be doing this, or at least, ergo there's no moral argument for this. Yeah, no shit people don't have some kind of natural right to live till they're 80 instead of 60, much less get procedures paid for which may or may not effectuate that outcome. But since fucking when are things only good things to do if they guarantee people some right that they have? I don't know that dogs have a right to be treated kindly, but I sure think that it's wrong to beat a dog and good to treat a dog well. Not all theories of ethics are rights-based. Somehow people seem to not realize this.

The NBA Can Still Surprise Us

Yesterday I claimed that we are approaching the end of history in the NBA as the league progresses towards an era of family-friendly, fully realized superstars whose talents are so beyond question that they leave no room for debate or surprise. But the NBA still can surprise us, if only because the previous generation of stars has not quite left the building yet. Tonight Tracy McGrady made a stunning and indescribably poignant debut for the Knicks. Of all the teams in the league, no teams' games are as inconsequential as the Knicks. Of the current Knicks, only one, Gallinari, seriously figures in their future plans. (Chandler figures, I suppose, but not very seriously, and Lee may not be back.) They're simply playing out the string until free agency comes. It doesn't even help them if they lose; their draft pick is Utah's. I have no idea why Knicks fans watch the games. It's into this malestrom of meaninglessness that McGrady got traded, his contract the mechanism by which the Knicks could lure a second max player and thereby lure LeBron (since otherwise he'd be coming to play with absolutely nothing). In return for his cap-clearing services, McGrady gets to showcase his skills for the one NBA franchise that can afford to let an ex-star put on a purely self-seeking showcase. Some teams couldn't afford a successful showcase because they're trying to tank; other teams couldn't afford a McGrady showcase because he might shoot them out of games in efforts to impress future employers. New York's the only team that could give McGrady this opportunity. It's quite a convenient confluence of circumstances.

The same factors that make New York such an ideal destination for McGrady make McGrady's new home an ideal one for NBA fans. Because McGrady plays on the most meaningless stage of all, we're free to focus our attentions solely on his play, without any nagging concerns about the outcome of the game or the actual efficacy of what he's doing. It's star-watching without the guilt that usually attends star-watching, or at least attends star-watching for those of us who think that winning, rather than the soap opera-like clash of personalities and styles, is the most important thing in sport.

So it was with great pleasure that I watched McGrady's improbably successful comeback. T-Mac is not back; athletically he's deteriorated to the point where he can't split a double team, blow by anyone, or even dunk for all we know. But he got to the rim somehow or another, finished with great accuracy, shot the ball well, passed beautifully, took only one bad shot, and managed to put up 19 by halftime. Not only did he look miles better than the shaky, diffident player we saw in spot action earlier this season in Houston, he played better than he did at any point last season, maybe even the season before that. Gone was the McGrady who spent most of his last years in Houston lazily launching arcless jumpers from the top of the key. Time and time again he went to the basket, in spite of looking even more hobbled than he did a year ago. I know it's only been a year since McGrady got real playing time, but I was almost reminded of Tom Watson's nearly winning the British Open two months shy of his 60th birthday, turning back the clock to his 30 year-old self in spite of very visibly being trapped in a 60 year-old body. Shades also of 'Mama Said Knock You Out.' At one point McGrady even shook his head at a defender who let him can a 17-footer in a gesture of "I'm still Tracy McGrady" pride.

Perhaps the most touching part of the night, though, was when Jonathan Bender and T-Mac were on the court together. Bender's a veteran of the high school era; picked fifth in the 1999 draft straight out of Picayune, Mississippi (McGrady went ninth two years prior), he was touted as the next Garnett. He was a 7 footer with guard skills and immense leaping ability, shot the three well, and could block shots, a rare combination. But he never did figure the pro game out, became an injury problem, and retired four years ago, leaving only legends of what he did in practice, where teammates said he looked like the most talented player they ever saw. Then this season the Knicks unexpectedly signed him. In his comeback, he's shown flashes, but ultimately has looked even spottier than he did in Indiana. D'Antoni's using him primarily as an outsider shooter hasn't helped, and he didn't look particularly good last night. But there was a certain synergy between him and T-Mac, as seen on the play below where he gets the ball from McGrady, fakes the three and delivers a perfect pass back to McGrady under the basket that McGrady converts for his flashiest score of the night. Nothing could have been more fitting than the sight of these two players, both young men (30 and 28) who seem much older, trying to hang on to their careers in a league that's passed them by.