September 21, 2009

My Whitney Dilemma

I’m always amazed at how much people still care about Whitney Houston.  It goes beyond the fact that I’ve never really been into her music.  It’s the fact that I’m not sure anyone’s really that into her music.  Her voice?  Yes.  Her music?  Not quite.

I mentioned on Facebook and Twitter that I don’t think Whitney’s music has endured.  Someone asked what “endured” meant, which was something I had to think about.  For one, I may not be the best judge of that; after all, I never liked her that much in the first place.  Second, what measures do we have for the longevity of music?  Playlists on the old folks’ stations?  The opinions of music critics (like me, kinda sorta)?  How do you measure that?

Good question.  Not sure if I can.  I can, however, say what I meant.

There is no definitive Whitney Houston album.  There isn’t even one I’ve heard someone refer to as a classic.  I’ve never been around cats making beats and heard them break out the Whitney looking for samples, vocal or instrumental.  Even her biggest hit, “I Will Always Love You,” got mighty stale the second it went off the charts.

When’s the last time you went to someone’s house and heard someone just playing Whitney Houston while they vacuumed?  Who just wants to hear “So Emotional” right now?

Yet, when Whitney’s on Oprah, the world tunes in.

The truth is that Whitney’s an icon of an era, not so much of music.  Whitney’s sales numbers indicated how far reaching her appeal was.  Again, I don’t purport to understand it.  Stellar as her voice was, there’s somebody at every church that can say the same thing.  Maybe this is the genius of Clive Davis, even though Clive’s real gift was finding geniuses like Carlos Santana and Sly Stone, not interpreters like Whitney.

I really don’t know.  But the truth is that Whitney is far more interesting in 2009 talking about getting high than she is as a musician.  Don’t believe me?  Would you rather listen to her debut record or hear more stories about her and Bobby?

No, her music hasn’t endured.  At least not as far as I can tell.

What’s interesting, though, is the personal attachment people clearly have with Whitney.  It throws me off because people normally get that way because they feel a heartfelt connection to an artist, a connection they found in his or her music.

I can’t see how that’s the case with Whitney.  Or am I missing something?

Her music hasn’t endured.  I was born in 1980, so her heyday isn’t really mine.  Maybe she’s not for me to get.  However, Al Green’s heyday wasn’t mine, but I know I’m Still in Love With You track-for-track.

But you all feel something toward Whitney.  Guess she’s a part of your childhoods.  It’s really not for me to judge, and I don’t care enough to really dissect it.  I just don’t think it’s because of music.  She’s an icon of her time, and that’s fine.

But compare her to another icon of his time and tell me this — has her music held up as well as Frank Sinatra’s?

She’s great.  Her voice is incredible.  But your kids probably don’t know a Whitney song, making it so interesting that so many of you love her so much.

September 16, 2009

Maureen’s Mistake

I’m getting the show ready, and there’s someone on Imus disagreeing with Maureen Dowd’s assertion that Joe Wilson’s “you lie!” was really “you lie, boy!”

This disagreement is exactly why I wish she hadn’t written that column in that way.  Ultimately, it produced nothing but misguided chirping from both sides.

Right now, there’s a public discussion of whether the fervor of many anti-Obama folks is based on race.  The answer to that, of course, is duh.  Since it’s duh, the best move is to stop posing this as if it’s a question and state it as fact.

(If you wanna test for racism, btw, here’s a great way — how much of the rhetoric Obama is facing makes absolutely no sense at all?  I mean ZERO.  I’d argue that quite a bit is totally preposterous.  Racism’s defining characteristic is that, on a micro level, it doesn’t make any sense and is largely irrational.  See a black man, see that much irrational hatred, and you probably see racism.)

Here’s the thing — whether or not it’s fact has nothing to do with Joe Wilson, Angie Harmon or anyone else.  South Carolina’s racial legacy is somewhat inconsequential.  It has to do with the one fact that I’ve never heard denied by anyone credible — that racism exists in America.

Now, if you think racism exists in America, then why do you even need to ask the question of whether or not race has something to do with the national dialogue on Obama?  I mean, he is black and has power, right?

Duh.

There’s a danger in writing columns that attempt to itemize every example of racism.  It’s missing the forest for the trees.

When you write something like Dowd did, all you do is open the door for rationalization of each individual action.  It can be done in just about every situation, save for those where someone overtly claims his or her racism.  And, until Wilson says, “I just get so tired of seeing a black man sassin’ us,” he’s got plausible deniability.  And since saying someone’s racist is seen as damning, people are reluctant to say it about someone.  Never mind how quick many of those same people felt free to call Michael Jackson a child molester, even though a racist is much easier to spot and less dangerous on a micro level.  People are remiss to say something or someone is racist.

Sorry, but I’ve been tired of the stories and excuses for a long time.  I’m tired of people that know racism is there but never, ever seem to know it when they see it.  And I’m not really in the business of giving those people a reason to rattle off that same ol’ nonsense.  I’m too busy for that.

Don’t talk about the racism Obama faces in the form of a question.  State it as fact.  Then talk about that fact, one that is not open for debate.

Instead of talking about this act of racism and that one, we need to continue having a larger discussion of just what racism is and how it manifests itself.  The truth is that most people have no idea what racism truly is, which partially explains why those people explain its symptoms away.

But that’s a lot harder to do than point a finger at Joe Wilson, and the results of that discussion, if it is productive, would be more chilling and jarring.

Oh well.  We gotta do it.

September 3, 2009

Let’s Talk about Blueprint 3

The knee-jerk response to the…advance copy of The Blueprint 3 that…uhhh, the label sent me over the Internet…yeah…

Anyway, it’s been fascinating to observe.  Before I even took the (virtual) plastic off my copy, I’d been told how mediocre the album was.  That’s always possible with Jigga.  He’s dropped his fair share of stinkers, perhaps a natural byproduct of dropping an album every year.

(FYI, Prince dropped an album just about every year from ‘79-92, and Jigga probably dropped more ughhh records from ‘98-2000 than Prince did over those 14 years.)

Now, when I used to say that Vols. 2 and 3 were wiggy wack, people would say I was a hater.  I had to admit that part of why I’d diss those albums so gleefully was because of how the fuckers from New York at Clark talked about him, as if that Hovah thing was on the birth certificate St. Pete keeps on file.  Drove me crazy.  Absolutely mad.

But here’s the thing…I go back and listen to those records now, and they’re still extra average.  I think I passed the hater test.  Few of the four million people (!!!) that bought Vol. 2 are bumping it now.  Vol. 3?  Keeps the rings off your table when you set your drink down.

That said, I ask this question to those dissing Blueprint 3 — WHY ARE YOU HATING?   Continue reading Let’s Talk about Blueprint 3…

September 3, 2009

Chris Brown Confuses Me

I mean, I slept on it, and I still can’t figure it out.

I’m not sure if I wanna go paint Easter eggs or give him a noogie.

Money, not you again.  Go that way.