Respect Authority

In the opening of “Hailey’s Song,” Eminem, who had already broken down barriers in the rap world by virtue of being white (and lyrically innovative), says “I can’t sing/I feel like singing/I wanna fuckin’ sing.” And at the end, after what is a vocally atrocious but still very endearing song, he says “I told you I couldn’t sing/Oh well, I tried.”

Were “Hailey’s Song,” in all its experimental glory, an entire album – it would be Lil Wayne’s Rebirth: daring, bold, endearing, and not entirely …good.

As a preface, I should say I’ve been listening to an illegally downloaded ultimate version of Rebirth, which includes all of the tracks officially released this week, as well as a few that had been leaked months ago and were later pulled from the CD. In all, after more than few delayed releases, Weezy popped out nearly two-dozen songs for Rebirth, which was marketed as (and is) the rapper’s attempt to merge his own hip-hop style with rock influences. I don’t have the energy to figure out which songs were part of the final release and which weren’t—moreover, all of the songs were arguably intended for inclusion on a professional album—but I figure having a few extra ones to go off of just means Wayne gets a more comprehensive chance at impressing me. Read More ›

"Thank God they're paying me."

Worry not, dear readers. We’re not dead. It’s just that, you know, bloggers need vacations too — vacations from…sitting in front of our computers…writing snarky commentary on topics about which we already care way too much. That shit is hard!

Speaking of which, it’s taken me two days, but I finally managed to get through this year’s MTV Movie Awards, which are about as relevant to the art of filmmaking as winning the fifth grade science fair is to one’s adult career. I don’t know why I chose to watch this year, except perhaps for three reasons: 1. I watch a lot of movies. 2. It came on right after The Hills, and the remote control was probably out of reach, and 3. I may or may not have been roped in by promises of an exclusive sneak peak at Twilight sequel New Moon. 

Having now sat through the show in its entirety (I tapped out after two hours on Sunday and had to DVR the rest) I have a couple of observations to make, the first of which is that despite its numerous attempts to revamp the show in a more audience/humor/trend-friendly way, MTV continues to miss the mark, instead serving up four hours or so of exceedingly awkward live interaction. This year’s issues: Read More ›

If your brain’s become a continuous loop of economy, election, economy, election, econolection, then it’s time for some distraction. Things are getting too serious in these parts, and since we’re all going to have less free time next year anyway (bread lines are time consuming), now’s when we should be keeping our hearts as light as our wallets.

Respect Authority planned The Future Freaks Me Out in advance this week, maybe because we’re organized, or maybe because we attended a wedding on Saturday, so Sunday is all about rest, red Gatorade and recovery. Enjoy. Read More ›

As infamous rapper Eminem once said of Dr. Dre in his subtly-titled “White America,” “Every fan black that I got, was probably his in exchange for every white fan that he got. Like damn, we just swapped, sittin’ back lookin’ at shit, wow, I’m like ‘my skin, is it starting to work to my benefit now?’”

Outside of being one of Eminem’s less innovative and more Yoda-like lyrics, the idea behind this statement is true: Eminem, ridiculed during his early days in Detroit for being too motherfucking white to rap, has surely ascended to the throne. Earlier this week, and just three weeks before the first black man in American history steps up to the presidential plate, a three-month online survey of Vibe magazine readers named Mr. Marshall Mathers the “best rapper alive.”

The most ironic part of Eminem’s win, however, isn’t actually his race. Mathers, who followed the “I’m retired, just kidding, no I’m not, yes I am again!” trajectory of many a rapper before him, hasn’t put out an album in four years. In fact, until Vibe’s announcement, I wasn’t even confident he was still alive. Moreover, also-living rapper Jay-Z, who has self-proclaimed himself “best rapper alive” more than once, lost out to Eminem in the competition’s final round, as did Lil Wayne, who consequently has a song called “Best Rapper Alive.” One can only hope the solution to these contradictions isn’t, you know, making someone the best rapper …not alive, a title Eminem could never claim anyway since as far as I know Biggie’s still dead.

Either way, a black man running for (and please oh please oh please) winning the presidency and a white man snagging the title of best living rapper gives me a great deal of hope, and not just that someday our society might escape out from under hundreds of years of deeply entrenched racism. But also hope that I too might someday be able to accomplish some of my less stereotypical dreams: professional bull rider, Murderball competitor and, naturally, best rapper alive.