Now I know I don't have many reviews here. I just don't do them, because I don't like writing them and there's a hundred other people out there doing them far better than me. Despite all that, however, occasionally I come across something so face-meltingly bad I just have to make a comment. And by 'make a comment', I mean swear a lot.
In this case, its the album 'Soulja Boy Tellem' by, well, Soulja Boy Tellem.
There is a time and a place for incredibly bad hip hop, and unfortunately it seems to be the British pop charts. I doubt many of you have managed to escape 17-year-old Soulja Boy telling you how he's going to 'superman' your 'ho' for the last couple of months (internet research - alright, UrbanDictionary.com - tells me that to 'superman' a 'ho' means to either shoot your man-fluids on her back and then throw a cape on her, to fist her up to the shoulder thus leaving your arm in the 'Superman' position, or to sexually gratify her for a superhumanly long time. Which one Soulja Boy is referring to is left to your doubtlessly fertile imagination), while those among you of an American bent have been trying to avoid him talking about his report card. At least I think that's what he was talking about, I can't actually tell, as he talks like there's something wrong with him. I know that these rappers have a language all their own, but this isn't like that, he genuinely sounds like a special kid rapping through an old sock.
Apparently the clever thing about Soulja Boy is that he produced his own album, using just the demo of FL Studio, the music production package that used to be FruityLoops. The thing is, I've got FL Studio, and I'd be ashamed to put out the simplistic crap he does and I'm the worst amateur musician in the entire world. In any case, no software package in existence, no matter how sophisticated, can make you stupid enough to bounce around in outsized sunglasses with your name written on them in Tipp-Ex. As if that wasn't bad enough, every single track on his album consists of a catchy 10-second ringtone-marketable loop, repeated for three and a half minutes, over what is essentially the same beat. 'Crank Dat Soulja Boy', the song about fisting people (or whatever) that you've been hearing for two months, is 3 minutes and 48 seconds long, and about three minutes of that is the previously-mentioned instruction to Superman your ho, with the other 48 seconds being a slurred guide to the 'Soulja Boy dance' rapped like he's just got back from the dentist's after a particularly nasty filling.
After this brain-numbing opener, the horror truly sinks in as you realise that the beat for every other song on the album is based around samples from this one song, and the lyrics themselves all consist of the same routine of would-be catchy chants and verses consisting of lyrics so pointless and devoid of anything worth listening to that it's not worth a tenth of the effort required to get past his rediculously exaggerated 'Southern gangsta' accent and understand what he's actually saying. It's not good hip hop. It's not even reasonable hip hop. It's not even so bad it's good, like Randy Savage (yes, that Randy Savage)'s rap album, 'Be a Man'. It is just shamefully bad. He's even got a song about how great his phone is. I'm not even kidding, no matter how much I wish I was.
Also, before anyone accuses me of being the kind of unhip square who probably listens to Moby, I'm not. I fucking hate Moby. Well, I like the keyboard breakdown from 'Lift Me Up', but apart from those three and a half seconds his entire musical career has been based around annoying me in other people's title sequences. Anyone who inserts political essays into the inlays of their albums is a pretentious cunt, especially when they include things like, apparently from 'The End of Everything', "Could you look an animal in the eyes and say to it, 'My appetite is more important than your suffering'?". Yes, Moby, yes I could. I could also dropkick a marmot.
Moving on, if you want something new in the rap/hip-hop/R'n'B meta-category, leave Soulja Boy walking into things in his ludicrous painted sunglasses and listen to Mutya Buena - she used to be the pretty one in the Sugababes, who was replaced by... nobody, actually, the rest of them are fucking shocking. Anyway, surprisingly for a pop singer, she can actually sing, and is also helped by being gorgeous, despite the fact that in this video she looks like she's wearing my settee. Apparently she was nominated for a MOBO award last year, despite being absolutely everything else other than black, but then again I suppose when you're Filipino-Spanish-Jewish-Irish-Chinese, you're not exactly going to get your own Music of Extraordinarily Specific Origin awards - unless you make them yourself out of milk bottle tops - so you take your awards where you can get them.
In any case, if she's what global racial harmony looks like, is there any chance we can get Iraq sorted out so we can have some more of it? Ta. Any time now, lads.
Keep supermanning those hos. Or something.
Goodnight.
In this case, its the album 'Soulja Boy Tellem' by, well, Soulja Boy Tellem.
There is a time and a place for incredibly bad hip hop, and unfortunately it seems to be the British pop charts. I doubt many of you have managed to escape 17-year-old Soulja Boy telling you how he's going to 'superman' your 'ho' for the last couple of months (internet research - alright, UrbanDictionary.com - tells me that to 'superman' a 'ho' means to either shoot your man-fluids on her back and then throw a cape on her, to fist her up to the shoulder thus leaving your arm in the 'Superman' position, or to sexually gratify her for a superhumanly long time. Which one Soulja Boy is referring to is left to your doubtlessly fertile imagination), while those among you of an American bent have been trying to avoid him talking about his report card. At least I think that's what he was talking about, I can't actually tell, as he talks like there's something wrong with him. I know that these rappers have a language all their own, but this isn't like that, he genuinely sounds like a special kid rapping through an old sock.
Apparently the clever thing about Soulja Boy is that he produced his own album, using just the demo of FL Studio, the music production package that used to be FruityLoops. The thing is, I've got FL Studio, and I'd be ashamed to put out the simplistic crap he does and I'm the worst amateur musician in the entire world. In any case, no software package in existence, no matter how sophisticated, can make you stupid enough to bounce around in outsized sunglasses with your name written on them in Tipp-Ex. As if that wasn't bad enough, every single track on his album consists of a catchy 10-second ringtone-marketable loop, repeated for three and a half minutes, over what is essentially the same beat. 'Crank Dat Soulja Boy', the song about fisting people (or whatever) that you've been hearing for two months, is 3 minutes and 48 seconds long, and about three minutes of that is the previously-mentioned instruction to Superman your ho, with the other 48 seconds being a slurred guide to the 'Soulja Boy dance' rapped like he's just got back from the dentist's after a particularly nasty filling.
After this brain-numbing opener, the horror truly sinks in as you realise that the beat for every other song on the album is based around samples from this one song, and the lyrics themselves all consist of the same routine of would-be catchy chants and verses consisting of lyrics so pointless and devoid of anything worth listening to that it's not worth a tenth of the effort required to get past his rediculously exaggerated 'Southern gangsta' accent and understand what he's actually saying. It's not good hip hop. It's not even reasonable hip hop. It's not even so bad it's good, like Randy Savage (yes, that Randy Savage)'s rap album, 'Be a Man'. It is just shamefully bad. He's even got a song about how great his phone is. I'm not even kidding, no matter how much I wish I was.
Also, before anyone accuses me of being the kind of unhip square who probably listens to Moby, I'm not. I fucking hate Moby. Well, I like the keyboard breakdown from 'Lift Me Up', but apart from those three and a half seconds his entire musical career has been based around annoying me in other people's title sequences. Anyone who inserts political essays into the inlays of their albums is a pretentious cunt, especially when they include things like, apparently from 'The End of Everything', "Could you look an animal in the eyes and say to it, 'My appetite is more important than your suffering'?". Yes, Moby, yes I could. I could also dropkick a marmot.
Moving on, if you want something new in the rap/hip-hop/R'n'B meta-category, leave Soulja Boy walking into things in his ludicrous painted sunglasses and listen to Mutya Buena - she used to be the pretty one in the Sugababes, who was replaced by... nobody, actually, the rest of them are fucking shocking. Anyway, surprisingly for a pop singer, she can actually sing, and is also helped by being gorgeous, despite the fact that in this video she looks like she's wearing my settee. Apparently she was nominated for a MOBO award last year, despite being absolutely everything else other than black, but then again I suppose when you're Filipino-Spanish-Jewish-Irish-Chinese, you're not exactly going to get your own Music of Extraordinarily Specific Origin awards - unless you make them yourself out of milk bottle tops - so you take your awards where you can get them.
In any case, if she's what global racial harmony looks like, is there any chance we can get Iraq sorted out so we can have some more of it? Ta. Any time now, lads.
Keep supermanning those hos. Or something.
Goodnight.
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