Ill-informed man presents roundup of urban music scene.
Since starting my new job a couple of months ago I've had the pleasure of listening on a daily basis to Choice FM, which bills itself as "your favourite urban station". Obviously this isn't true in my case; my favourite urban station is Euston. In fact I don't know if I've ever mentioned this, but I once saw Melvyn Hayes from It Ain't Half Hot, Mum getting trapped in the ticket barriers at Euston. Well I imagine that you're like me, and when someone mentions urban music you immediately think of things like "The Lambeth Walk", "Let's All Go Down The Strand", "Can I Take You Up The Camden Passage?" and so on. Well you couldn't be more wrong, you ignorant waste of space. No, urban music is a modern genre, aimed primarily at young people, and comprising elements of pop, hip hop, R&B, dance & reggae. Now I've cleared that up, I thought it might be interesting to present you with a roundup of the current urban music scene. Then I realised it probably wouldn't be interesting to present you with a roundup of the current urban music scene, but decided to do it anyway, beginning with:
Ludacris - My Chick Bad: Strange as it may sound to our ears, young people today frequently use the word "bad" in a non-pejorative sense. Thus when Ludacris sings "My chick bad, my chick 'hood, my chick do stuff yo' chick wish she could", his words should be read not as an admonishment to his chick, but instead as a paean. But what precisely does his chick do that other chicks wish they could? We hear that "She rides that dick and she handles her liquor". Well that hardly distinguishes her from most of my female acquaintances. Later we discover that "She slides down the pole like a certified stripper", suggesting that there exists a recognised certification system for strippers, like the Corgi scheme for gas fitters. Sadly we have no time to discuss whether such a scheme represents yet another example of the entrepreneurial spirit being stifled by red tape, or whether instead it provides valuable and much needed protection for consumers.
Jessie J - Do It Like A Dude: Before you start thinking "Ooh, at last! Finally a song about weeing standing up!", this isn't what Jessica is referring to. Nor has she composed an ode to the pitfalls of attempting to put together Ikea furniture without having first thoroughly read the instruction manual. No, Ms J wishes us to know that she is every bit as sexually voracious as Ludacris and his chick. And addressing us dudes, she informs us that she can "Grab my crotch, wear my hat low like you". As a man, I'm slightly affronted at being crudely stereotyped as a slavering, low-hat wearing lech, forever ogling women's knockers and grabbing my crotch. I wear my hats at a jaunty angle.
Juelz Santana - Back To The Crib: Here Mr Santana's attempts at luring his female companion back to his boudoir are, in my opinion, undermined by a series of lyrical faux pas. Firstly he claims he stays "polo down to the socks". For heaven's sake, Santana, don't mention your socks. The sight of a man naked except for socks is exceeded in silliness only by that of a man naked except for socks and shoes. He then claims his watch "cost more than Fort Knox". Well I don't know about you, but I'm perfectly happy with my Casio AQ-230A Combi, and I'm sure you'll agree that a watch costing more than Fort Knox represents a quite vulgar display of ostentatious consumption bearing in mind the current economic climate. But Santana's most ill-judged boast comes when he says "Yeah just call me Mr Orgasm, and if you come with me I guarantee you gon' have one". ONE? I mean, I make no claims to be a latter day Don Juan - that's for other people to say - but for heaven's sake, one is nothing to write home about, is it.
Usher - Daddy's Home: Oh I know what you're thinking. You're thinking "Ah, that's more like it, after all this unbridled smut and sexytalk. Usher's written a song about how he likes to come home after a hard day's work showing people to their cinema seats - HIS NAME'S USHER, YOU SEE - and spend some quality time with his 3 year old son, Usher Raymond V". And at first you'd be right. "I just wanna get your attention", he sings. "That's nice", you think. "What an attentive parent Usher Raymond V has." But hang on: "I won't knock, or ring no bells. You just float that bottom up in the air." WHAT? "I know you've been waiting for this loving all day...girl tonight we gonna do a lot of sexin'…Do that damn thing let the neighbours hear." Oh, it's more sexytalk, isn't it.
Gyptian feat. Nicki Minaj - Hold Yuh: Gyptian, or Windel Edwards, as he's known to friends and family, is a sneaky so-and-so, and no mistake. He's deliberately tried to confuse me here by adopting an exaggerated form of Jamaican patois, reasoning no doubt that I'd be unfamiliar with that dialect. Well, Edwards, you reasoned wrongly. And while I can't provide an exact translation of what Gyptian means by "Me want a gyal who cyan wine pon me, wid it good and mek mi feel it. Gimme the mekka van and the fat tun tun tun, me na rampaz mi nozzle and get my boom boom", I'm 99% certain that it's yet more sexytalk.
What we've learned here is that the artistes on Choice FM could do with a cold shower and a brisk walk, and - I've just realised - I've basically ripped off Baaad Dad from The Adam & Joe Show, not particularly well.
Anyway, I've also realised that many of these songs refer to a female who goes by the name of "Shorty". Assuming this is a specific individual, does anyone have her phone number?
Ludacris - My Chick Bad: Strange as it may sound to our ears, young people today frequently use the word "bad" in a non-pejorative sense. Thus when Ludacris sings "My chick bad, my chick 'hood, my chick do stuff yo' chick wish she could", his words should be read not as an admonishment to his chick, but instead as a paean. But what precisely does his chick do that other chicks wish they could? We hear that "She rides that dick and she handles her liquor". Well that hardly distinguishes her from most of my female acquaintances. Later we discover that "She slides down the pole like a certified stripper", suggesting that there exists a recognised certification system for strippers, like the Corgi scheme for gas fitters. Sadly we have no time to discuss whether such a scheme represents yet another example of the entrepreneurial spirit being stifled by red tape, or whether instead it provides valuable and much needed protection for consumers.
Jessie J - Do It Like A Dude: Before you start thinking "Ooh, at last! Finally a song about weeing standing up!", this isn't what Jessica is referring to. Nor has she composed an ode to the pitfalls of attempting to put together Ikea furniture without having first thoroughly read the instruction manual. No, Ms J wishes us to know that she is every bit as sexually voracious as Ludacris and his chick. And addressing us dudes, she informs us that she can "Grab my crotch, wear my hat low like you". As a man, I'm slightly affronted at being crudely stereotyped as a slavering, low-hat wearing lech, forever ogling women's knockers and grabbing my crotch. I wear my hats at a jaunty angle.
Juelz Santana - Back To The Crib: Here Mr Santana's attempts at luring his female companion back to his boudoir are, in my opinion, undermined by a series of lyrical faux pas. Firstly he claims he stays "polo down to the socks". For heaven's sake, Santana, don't mention your socks. The sight of a man naked except for socks is exceeded in silliness only by that of a man naked except for socks and shoes. He then claims his watch "cost more than Fort Knox". Well I don't know about you, but I'm perfectly happy with my Casio AQ-230A Combi, and I'm sure you'll agree that a watch costing more than Fort Knox represents a quite vulgar display of ostentatious consumption bearing in mind the current economic climate. But Santana's most ill-judged boast comes when he says "Yeah just call me Mr Orgasm, and if you come with me I guarantee you gon' have one". ONE? I mean, I make no claims to be a latter day Don Juan - that's for other people to say - but for heaven's sake, one is nothing to write home about, is it.
Usher - Daddy's Home: Oh I know what you're thinking. You're thinking "Ah, that's more like it, after all this unbridled smut and sexytalk. Usher's written a song about how he likes to come home after a hard day's work showing people to their cinema seats - HIS NAME'S USHER, YOU SEE - and spend some quality time with his 3 year old son, Usher Raymond V". And at first you'd be right. "I just wanna get your attention", he sings. "That's nice", you think. "What an attentive parent Usher Raymond V has." But hang on: "I won't knock, or ring no bells. You just float that bottom up in the air." WHAT? "I know you've been waiting for this loving all day...girl tonight we gonna do a lot of sexin'…Do that damn thing let the neighbours hear." Oh, it's more sexytalk, isn't it.
Gyptian feat. Nicki Minaj - Hold Yuh: Gyptian, or Windel Edwards, as he's known to friends and family, is a sneaky so-and-so, and no mistake. He's deliberately tried to confuse me here by adopting an exaggerated form of Jamaican patois, reasoning no doubt that I'd be unfamiliar with that dialect. Well, Edwards, you reasoned wrongly. And while I can't provide an exact translation of what Gyptian means by "Me want a gyal who cyan wine pon me, wid it good and mek mi feel it. Gimme the mekka van and the fat tun tun tun, me na rampaz mi nozzle and get my boom boom", I'm 99% certain that it's yet more sexytalk.
What we've learned here is that the artistes on Choice FM could do with a cold shower and a brisk walk, and - I've just realised - I've basically ripped off Baaad Dad from The Adam & Joe Show, not particularly well.
Anyway, I've also realised that many of these songs refer to a female who goes by the name of "Shorty". Assuming this is a specific individual, does anyone have her phone number?