I am going to admit right from the outset that this is going to be one half-assed column. Actually, considering the size of the posterior of this Round Mound of Rebound, that would probably imply that there is greater quality here than in reality. So heed this warning, and tread carefully.
I had some trouble with finding inspiration for this article, at least until one of my friends sent me a link to the lyrics from the latest opus of our great national poet, Lil' Jon. The title of his latest epic is unprintable in this publication, but let me assure you, he truly keeps it "treal" (I can't believe this is an actual word now -- and it is of course used in the song as well).
Let me step away from the sarcasm for a second and tell you my true reaction to reading the lyrics -- I nearly had an aneurysm, and I couldn't even read the whole thing. This is not my first experience being appalled with Lil' Jon -- I just think of the times I'm at a hip-hop party and I hear the entire crowd sing along with the chorus to "Get Low" and how I can only stand there with shock. Mind you, this is coming from a guy, when not on the air, is guilty of possessing a mouth that would put the toughest sailors to shame (I have the natural gift of stringing together the most random of profanities; I'm considering listing this as a skill on my resume).
My point here is not to complain about explicit lyrics -- in fact, most of the time I revel in them. I am just questioning how people can continue looking to people like Lil' Jon as legitimate artists worthy of our attention. I foresee a time in the not-too-distant future, probably on some new VH1 special ("I Love the Aught's With A Vengeance!") in which we will mock him and wonder how we were all so stupid. In all probability, this will occur. And I believe in the back of our minds we all know this will be the case -- yet we continue on for now.
Of course this is not a new phenomenon -- just think back to the various flash-in-the-pans from our lifetimes: MC Hammer, Vanilla Ice, Master P; and beyond rap, from the boy bands of the late-'90s to the hair metal/butt rock of the '80s. You will be hard-pressed to find a legitimate defense of the artistic integrity of Winger or Stryper these days. The only people that pine for the glory days of these bands are sad and pathetic middle-aged no-good-niks. I know I shouldn't define a genre by the kind of fans that listen to it (I mean, am I an ideal fan? Survey says no), but if you are unconvinced by the mind-numbing lyrics and the repetitive riffs, maybe then you need to take a look at your peers and decide if you're making a good choice.
Is it just a matter of getting caught in the hype? Is this just an extension of the Pet Rock phenomenon (seriously, people lined up to BUY a rock? I can understand now how the state of Kansas didn't agree with the concept of evolution). To some extent, this can be said to be the case. I don't want to go into a discussion of "the madding crowd" or "if Timmy jumped off a bridge, would you do it too," but it's sure to play a part. Of course, if it did not play a part, we wouldn't be having this discussion -- no need to complain about certain subsections of the population loving crap. Unless of course we're talking about Insane Clown Posse fans, which are scourge that needs to be wiped from Earth.
I am not anti-fun or anti-pop -- I appreciate a good melody and a fun beat as much as the next dude, and understand the need for non-serious music. I just want to urge greater discretion from the buying populace. We all know we will regret some of the things that we love now; let's just try to prevent this from happening again.
