A three-part series, takes a closer look at one of the most popular music genres in the world. In the aftermath of the Don Imus controversy, the public’s focus has shifted to offensive lyrics in hip-hop and its impact. On Tell Me More, listen to conversations with industry insiders and some of the largest consumers — to ask the question, is it time for the music to change? -NPR
MC Lyte’s take on hip-hop
Music Video Models’ point of views
Christa Bell’s slam poetry performance
I’ve been following Eng’s racial issues ever since he wrote a column in AsianWeek entitled “Why I Hate Blacks.” After reading “Sharing in the Gory” and listening to his remark on the VT massacre, I think this motherfucker needs some serious counseling.
Damn, another Thuy Tien? Damn, another Trinh Cong Son album? Damn, another Xin Cho Toi? Despite her name has already been taken by two young popular singers, her album concept has already been recorded by numerous singers, and her album title has already been used by Cam Van, Thuy Tien brings a sweet sensation to Trinh’s music.
Like most Vietnamese singers, Thuy Tien doesn’t dare to ruffle Trinh’s compositions. She sings them the way they were written. What makes her performances stand out, however, is her so-beautiful-it-hurts voice. On the title track she soars like a dove with a broken wing begging for peace over a fine and mellow keyboard companion. On “Mot Lan Thoang Co” her vocals float like chill wind around the cascading piano ostinato. The rhythm section also added a subtle mysteriousness into the tune. The best part is on the break where the violin saws along her vocalization creating an enticing effect.
While her delivery on “Doi Cho Ta The” is free and effortless weaving in and out of the fun strumming guitar and lively plucking bass, she performs “Hay Cu Vui Nhu Moi Ngay” as if she is forcing herself to enjoy life. Her stilted flow comes across as if it is still raining inside even though the sun has shined. The album offers no novelty, but rather another fresh voice on Trinh’s work.
Even with the recent controversy on hip-hop language, I doubt that the word ho will be banned from rap music, but just incase it does, let’s enjoy Ludacris’ “Ho” before the word gets dropped for good. Although the lyrical content is impossible to defend (and I am not trying to defend it), the wordplay is so damn hilarious:
Can’t turn a ho into a housewife
Hoes don’t act right
It’s hoes on a mission, and it’s hoes on a crackpipe
Hey ho how ya doin’, where ya been?
Prolly doin’ ho stuff cuz there you ho again
It’s a ho wide world that we livin’ in.
At I-Dressup, you could drag and drop dresses onto a model who wears nothing but bra and panties. It’s pretty neat. Check out the Gucci spring 2007 collection.
I put hoes in NY onto DKNY
Miami, D.C. prefer Versace
All Philly hoes, dough and Moschino
Every cutie wit a booty bought a Gucci
-Biggie
“Spottieottiedopaliscious” is the title of a funky tune from Outkast. Damn damn damn, I can’t get that trumpet hook off my head.
Yes, when I first met my Spottieottiedopaliscious Angel
I can remember that damn thing like yesterday
The way she moved reminded me of a Brown Stallion
horse with skates on, you know…
smooth like a hot comb on nappy ass hair.
Ella and Louis Jordan made even a violent tune, “Stone Cold Dead in de Market,” sounded entertaining with their playful Jamaican accent.
Last night I went out drinking,
When I came home I gave her a beating.
So she cotched up de rolling pin,
And went to work on his head ’til I boshed it in.
I lied stone cold dead in de market,
Stone cold dead in de market.
I lied stone cold dead in de market,
She killed nobody but her husband.
Originally written in German by a jazz journalist Thomas Fitterling, Thelonious Monk: His Life and Music is divided into three parts. The first part on Monk’s life is rather brief since Monk was an introvert who lived in his own world and could go on for days without speaking. The only language he would speak was his music. Because of his strange personality, Monk’s music reflected his idiosyncratic character. His style was full of angularity and way far from the standard sound of bebop. Beside his original compositions—”Epistrophy,” “Straight, No Chaser,” “Well, You Needn’t,” “Bemsha Swing,” “Blue Monk,” “Brilliant Corner,” “Crepuscule With Nellie” (a hymn for his wife), “Criss Cross,” which became jazz standards—Monk’s recompositional technique made him an unmistakable ballad player. Monk’s catalog, the third part of the book, featured Fitterling’s listening guides to Monk music. Although his writing is a bit technical, it would be helpful if you have the albums to accompany his commentary. This book is a pleasurable reading material if you would like to learn about Monk.