Saturday, October 24, 2009

Hate The Players, Hate The Game, Hate the World (Insomniac Edition)

Some days you just thank God Apple made it's superior mp3 player that allows you to listlessly space out continuously for days on end like the horrible (or extraordinary) aftermath of a junkie who won the lottery.

Besides Maxwell's latest attempt I'm hard pressed to find anybody singing who isn't visually backed up by what appears to be genetically engineered stripper-mimes in the last throes of a fatal epileptic seizure. Of course that could be due to fact Viacom won't let me watch anything that isn't soft porn, the last gasps of fame starved attention junkies, or the mewing whine of sexually confused young men.

Speaking of which, I have no hope that this Drake cat won't last long unless the unicorn and rainbows happy fun land promised by the president's supporters extend to the Hip-Hop consumer; rap aficionados have a low attention span for high yellow MC's, even ones with a noticeable screen presence.

Luckily Steve Jobs gave me the ability to quit my already ruined radio experience and the machinations of Al Gore made sure I can find new and forward-thinking music at my callous whim.

This month I've been busy devouring the latest incarnation of supreme band leader, songwriter, and influential musician Meshell Ndegeocello (I believe that's the latest spelling). Her latest album, Devil's Halo, has flown in under the radar of everyone who isn't already itching for another release of hers and will most likely stay that way due her music being very Prince-like uncategorical and most definitely dismissible to anyone without patience to listen to music.

For all those out there sick of hearing the same 80's hair metal effects and scale used in every other black artists' song featuring an electric guitar (looking at you Jigga), Meshell's newest is the aural wizardry that will allow you to momentarily forget the Disneyification of modern radio and record companies and possibly be left field enough to allow you to poison your enemies while they ponder what soundscapes they are being subjected to.

It's true, this time around Meshell made an album with a lot of indie aesthetic value while keeping it a Meshell LP. The reworking of Ready For The World's panty-dropping "Love You Down" to a modern focused bedroom groove speaks to the care she takes in her art.

Plus, you can probably play bits of the album around your older relatives and they won't look at you like you shat in their cereal cupboard like when they found out you may have bought that Three-Six Mafia album that one time in a moment of weakness and intoxication, and that has it appeal too.

Love You Down - Meshell Ndegeocello

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