Tuesday, November 22, 2011

modern poetry

what it is: modern poetry
where i found it: "urban radio"

Apparently the music industry is dead. Everyone I know who runs a record label doesn't anymore. Yet somehow rap is still riding high with no regrets. In a lot of ways it's the most audacious, psychedelic and hormone driven stuff out there, sort of like rock and roll used to be. I've had a few favorite asinine "urban radio" hits over the last few years. Here are a few selections:

This is Why I'm Hot
This one gets award for the best logical ourobouros.

This is why I'm Hot:
I'm Hot Because I'm Fly
You Ain't Because You Not
This is why, this is why I'm hot.


Blame it on the A-a-a-a-a-alcohol, Baby
Speaks for itself



Trying to Catch Me Ridin' Dirty
This one was by an artist with the amazing name of Chameleon-aire (get it, like a cross between a chameleon and a millionaire). I don't know what "riding dirty" means. It's something about cruising in a car all high on cough syrup and getting pulled over.

She Wanna Lick Me Like a Lollipop
Kind of speaks for itself, but it should also be mentioned that it seems kind of amazing that the number one hit of the Summer was blatantly about oral sex.

Also by Lil' Wayne, I'm not sure about the title of this one
I'm a Pill Poppin' Animal
A Syrup Sippin' Nigga
I'm So High You Can't Catch Me with a Fucking Antenna

Birthday Sex
Who the hell writes a song called birthday sex? This song seems like it took about four minutes to come up with. Check it out:

It's your birthday so I know
you want to ride out,
Even if we only go to my house
Sip mo- weezy as we sit upon my couch
Feels good, but I know you want to
cry out


You say you want passion
I think you found it
Get ready for action
Don't be astounded
We switchin' positions
You feel surrounded
Just tell me where you want
your gift, girl


Don't need candles or cake
just need your body to make

Birthday sex
Birthday sex 

[It's the best day of the year, girl]

It feels like, feels like...
lemme hit that...g-spot g-spot


We grindin' wit passion, cuz it's yo birthday
Been at it for hours...I know you thirsty
You kiss me so sweetly...taste just like Hershey's
Just tell me how you want yo gift, girl


First I'm gonna take a dive into the water,
deep until I know I pleased that body (body ah oop)
Or girl without a broom
I might just sweep you off your feet


Or maybe we can float on top my water bed,
you close your eyes as i pry between your legs
We work our way from kitchen stoves, and tables
Girl you know I'm more than able to please, yeah
Say you wanted flowers on the bed (on the bed)
But you got me and hours on the bed
(it's the best day of the year, girl)
(lemme know what it feels like, feels like, when I hit that G-spot, G-spot)


This employs one of my favorite lyrical devices: rhyming a word with the same word, somehow increasingly popular as of late. Could he really not think of anything that rhymes with bed?

Irreplaceable
In this break up anthem, Beyonce uses the same lyrical device mentioned above:

You must not know 'bout me
You must not know 'bout me
I could have another you in a minute
And in fact he'll be here in a minute

She also begins the song with the lines

To the left, to the left
Everything you own in a box to the left 
In my closet
Let me call you a cab

This seems inordinately well organized and considerate for such a passionate heartbreak moment. I brought this up at rehearsal shortly after the song was released and the drummer in my band had a good point: In the closet to the left? What ever happened to throwing the shit out the window or burning it?"