Rolling Stone’s got a list up of the 15 worst albums by great bands.  That’s a great idea, something I’ve pondered a few times.  Once, I sat with Language Arts and Little Brother discussing a similar topic–greatest come ups and come downs in successive albums by hip hop acts.  Fun stuff.
Anyway, I’ve decided to list a few really bad records from really good artists.  Add yours.
But first, one record you won’t see on here is U2’s Pop.  My colleague Seth Wickersham–who referenced this list on his blog, which is where i found it–said that should have been on there, but I’ve come to disagree over the years.  Ben, the former Red Stripe Reader of the Month, urged me to give it a second listen, and I must say the record wasn’t as bad as I remembered it being.  Plus, I think “Please” is a great song.
Moving on.  No particular order, no set number.  Just rambling.
Goodie Mob, World Party.   This record is really, really bad.  Granted, I admit that Still Standing, its immediate predecessor, isn’t as good as I remember it being.  However, there are a couple of dope tracks–“Get Rich To This” and “Chain Swang,” for example–and a bunch of garbage.  Cee-Lo can try to put all the blame for this on Gipp, but I ain’t going for it.  Everybody involved’s gotta take the blame on this drivel.
The Roots, Phrenology.   How many of you tried your hardest to convince yourself that this record was good?  How long was it before you gave up?  Q likes it.  I still like him in spite of that, though.
LL Cool J, 14 Shots to the Dome.  I was weighing this one with Walking with the Panther.  The latter is better than people remember.  Just out of place with the time.  This one, however?  Stinkin’. Hot. Garbage.
Prince, Chaos and Disorder.  I don’t even want to talk about this one.  I’ve heard it called his definitive guitar album.  Whatever you say.
Raekwon, Immobilarity.  True story here.  My brother and I debated whether to buy this one because the reviews were so bad.  We went ahead and copped it, though.  We figured that Only Built 4 Cuban Linx was too good for us not to show him the respect of buying his next album.  After we got to “All I Got 2,” featuring a dreadful sample of “Penny Lover,” we took that thing out and never listened to it again.  Hell, “All I Got” wasn’t even his song in the first place.
50 Cent, The Massacre.  Or, as we call it, The Assacre.
Counting Crows, This Desert Life.  Stop telling me this is good.  Please.  I can listen to their other three records front to back without thinking twice.  Not this.  Give it up.  Yes, I’m talking to you, Jenn.
Common, Electric Circus.  OK, I’m hot a huge Common fan.  Think he’s a bit overrated.  Even still, this is the abysmalest.
Dr. Dre Presents…The Aftermath.  Because 2001 was so good, I think we’ve forgotten that Dre almost killed his own career with this one.  Goodness, this is turrrrible.
Eminem, Encore.  There are some good to great songs on this one.  But goodness, he mailed it in.  Totally lazy performance.
Ice Cube, War and Peace.  Both of ’em.  Cheeks.
Michael Jackson, Invincible.  By a nose over HIStory.  No idea how people don’t realize Mike hasn’t done a good album in 16 years.
Jay-Z, Blueprint 2.  Go ahead.  Try to defend it.  Try your best.
Lauryn Hill, Unplugged.  I admit this isn’t as bad as many people say.  But I must say I get uncomfortable listening to it.  Get a hold of yourself, woman!
Marvin Gaye, The Last Concert Tour.  It’s a live album, so it’s a bit unfair.  And, if I recall, it was a posthumous release.  Oh well.  This record is so bad that it’s funny.
Snoop Doggy Dogg, Tha Doggfather.  Someone please speak on this.

Business…here’s my solution to the Spurs-Suns dilemma.
SSP…check me out on Outside the Lines at 3:30 EDT, talking about sequels in sports and movies.  Should be fun.

My man Brew City Drew left a comment saying that he’s too light on his feet for his old man.  He’d float like a butterfly and sting his pops like a bee.
Granted, I don’t know his pops, but I feel very certain that wouldn’t happen.  I’m 26.  My father is 70.  There is nothing so important–at least nothing that would ever happen–that would compel me to fight him.  Absolutely nothing.
Has your father even put his hands on your shoulders to make a point?  If so, did you notice how hard it was to do much more than breathe?  That’s a little somethign that my man Bobo referred to in his comment.  It’s called “old man strength.”  My brother told me about it, and it’s real as steel.  There’s something about living fo ra long time that’ll turn you into a linebacker when necessary.
And take that a step further.  One time, when I was young and stupid, I said something to my mother that made her inform me that she’d leave me “picking up my teeth.”  Keep in mind that my mother’s the nicest woman I’ve ever met.  Also keep in mind that she was probably dead on right.  Old woman strength is no joke either.
And you know what part of it is?  Your daddy is not letting you kick his ass.  It just ain’t gonna happen.  If you think a whipper snapper is going to beat up an old man without htat old man summoning strength from the ancestors, you just don’t understand.  Reminds me of a story a buddy told me.  He was a defensive lineman on a college team, and he got into it with his position coach.  Now, this dude is about 6-5, and he was at least 300 pounds then.  He said he and the coach started yelling at each other over something.
“Man, next thing I knew, he just came into the locker room and kicked my ass all over the place.”
I mean, he said this totally matter-of-factly.  No embarrassment, no nothing.  And you know why?  Because there’s nothing embarrassing about getting beat down by a grown man.  Ask Robin Ventura about that.
Seriously, let’s make this an episode of Maury.  Father/Son Boxing Matches.  Instead of folks settling things on the People’s Court, let ’em go handle it in the ring.  I guarantee you’d see more settlements than you knew were possible.

Business…no way in the world I would.