I come to a real difficult crossroad with T-Pain lately; due to his near ubiquity, the Busta Rhymes of our time has managed to creep into my radar and actually make music I will not only listen to, but look forward to hearing. It's one thing to sit around with your buddy's complaining about Mr. Hair Extension.
Now Kayne had to do it....a matter of a fact, who else could do it...But I can't deny the good life.
But that could all be attributed to an inferior artist lucking into a guest appearance that puts them in a good light. And to be perfectly honest, the use of his voice mirrored the ghostly voices used in house music for year, which meshed perfectly with Kayne's new emphasis on swooshing house synths instead of soul samples.
But then Piles had to come out with Shawty, totally smashing my preconceptions into a smoldering heap on recriminations. I checked my underwear to see if my period had started.
This couldn't even be attributed to a superior artist. Piles is a serviceable MC, at his best. This wasn't exactly Aesop Rock spitting couplets: This just showed that pop music lives in another universe from serious artist. Talent just isn't a part of the equation, with the subjective experience trumping everything you like.
During the time I first heard Shawty I was extremely horny. Summer fever had struck in the worst way and I was single. To complicated matters I wasn't going out to solve my woman problems. You can add to the problem, (and yes, it is a problem) that there has been a dearth of good lovemaking songs coming from R&B (R. Kelly's Zoo doesn't count, that's comedy) and you had the formula for a grand masturbation song.
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