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Years ago, before we moved to Oregon, a kid came to the door selling magazines so he could go to Disneyland or M.I.T.-- I forget which. At any rate, my wife bought the rap and signed on. I think she spent like three hundred dollars on magazines. When she ran out of things she would read in the bathroom, she picked
Rolling Stone, for me. It was a selfless and now we see, an unnecessary gesture. It took a long time before we got any of the magazines and we thought for sure we had been ripped off. We contacted the Better Business Bureau. And then they started showing up in the mailbox, beginning with the bonus magazine:
Black Enterprise.
I've been reading
Rolling Stone, off and on, for like 40 years, since it was a folded up tabloid, with John Lennon on the cover. Recently, he was on the cover again. God rest his soul. This week, the new issue arrived in the mail. Lil Wayne is on the cover. After I picked up the mail and laid it on the dining table, I went through it. There on the cover of the
Rolling Stone (to paraphrase Dr. Hook), was Lil Wayne. Something came over me. I looked at it and a second later, ripped off the cover, balled it up and tossed it into the recycling bin. Kind of like Belushi ripping the guitar out of Stephen Bishop's hands in
Animal House and smashing it to bits. Only I didn't raise my eyebrows for the camera. It was an internal move. Shortly after, I spat out a letter to the magazine, which in all probability, will never see the printed page. I sounded, and, to me, justifiably so, like some cranky old man, kvetching about kids today and the shit they listen to and all that. Being that part of my brain is wired like an old Wurlitzer with the bubbling lights with no new music loaded into it, I just heard Tom Petty...
Yeah, my momma was a rocker way back in '53
Buys them old records that they sell on TV
I know Chuck Berry wasn't singin' that to me, oh no
But you know, Chuck was singing to me. And so were Don and Phil, and Buddy and Bobby and all that. And they still are. Lil Wayne ain't singing to me. Shit... he ain't singing at all. He's slinging out out this mad tirade with 10 letter curse words and rhyming to a computer driven backbeat. I didn't like Sinatra and Sammy when I was a kid, but you know what? I grew up and learned to appreciate what they did. On the other hand, I doubt I will ever "grow" to like any of what passes for music today. I find very little of it that moves me. Frank, and Sarah Vaughn and Ella Fitzgerald never needed Autotune to sing on key like Britney.
Am I my parents? Punk and power pop wasn't my music but I think that the Clash was one of the last bands that mattered. My wife can't really stand the fact that I still listen to doo-wop. Sorry, babe, but they don't sing like that anymore. Not on American Idol and not on the radio. The Moonglows and the late great Johnny Ace. That's when music mattered.
So I pick the world up and I'm a drop it on your fuckin' head, yeahh!
Bitch, I'm a pick the world up and I'm a drop it on your fuckin' head
And I could die now rebirth mother fucker
Hop up in my spaceship and leave Earth
Mother fucker I'm gone
Mother fucker I'm gone
Just like Rogers and Fucking Hammerstein, huh? How about this:
I'ma hustla so I be on the grind
I always got the money and the bitches on my mind
And I was born to dine so every where I goes at
The first thing I wanna know is where them hoes at
Where them girls that be takin off they clothes at
And where them girls that be slidin down them poles at
... and so on. So, call me old fashioned, but I still think that Rap Music is an oxymoron. The few things I've heard by Snoop Dogg have been kind of cute. He could be a comedian, and may very well be. I can't take him seriously. I even like a couple of Eminem's older things. But I won't call them songs and I won't buy into 50¢ or any of these other miscreants that believe part of stage attire is a 9mm. Smokey didn't pack heat. And, yeah, Johnny Cash and Merle Haggard went to jail but, well... it was different. I swear it was different.
Rock 'n Roll meant the world to me when I was growing up. It was the voice I struggled to find. It annunciated my alienation and sense of not belonging. And maybe for the kids today Lil Wayne and all the rest speak for them. And maybe there's no maybe. And you know, that's too bad.
When I was coming up, there were songs about teen angels and dreams come true. Today, they're called bitches. That ain't right. Call me old fashioned. Call me obsolete. Whatever. I would love to hear some new music that moves me. Something that aspires to reach me and take me to a higher place. Something that speaks the words I can't find. Something like Bomani D'mite Armah...
Read a book! Read a book! Read a muh 'fuckin book!
Read a book! Read a book! Read a muh 'fuckin book!
Read a book! Read a book! Read a muh 'fuckin book!
Read a book! Read a book! Read a muh 'fuckin book!
R-E-A-D, B-O-OAHH-KAYYY!
R-E-A-D, B-O-OAHH-KAYYY!
R-E-A-D, B-O-OAHH-KAYYY!
R-E-A-D, B-O-OAHH-KAYYY!