The BEST Songs #3

In which Lil’ Wayne becomes The Best Rapper Alive.

The thing that’s going to be most difficult with this song is trying to choose which lyrics are the best. Because, in all seriousness, every single word that comes out of Wayne’s mouth in this song is just fucking incredible. From “Call me automatic Weezy, bitch, I keep spitting” in the first verse to “I take you to the shootout, baby, win, lose, or draw” as he raps over police sirens, Wayne’s verses are short, tight, and perfect. It’s a song that allows the rapper to breathe, with guest hook-singer Robin Thicke taking his sweet time, and letting Weezy run circles around him.

The middle verse, a lyrical bombing of radio stations, reads like a Best Of Lil’ Wayne list, highlighting pretty much everything that he does best. First of all, his flow switches twice in this song, and it works perfectly going from the fast-paced assault in verse one to the laid-back, confident drawl in the second. That isn’t to say that he isn’t still on the offensive in the second verse. Nothing could be further from the truth: Every word he says is another slug in the chest. “Stop being rapper racist, region haters, spectators, dictators, behind-door dick-takers. It’s outrageous,” he says to radio stations across America. That he can even say that line with such serious delivery (because it’s fucking hilarious, in a good way) is amazing to me. It’s not just the image of radio executives getting fucked in a back room somewhere, it’s all the unanswered questions that make me love that line: Why are they being fucked? Rape? Pleasure? Bribery? Who’s doing the fucking? Corporate America? Clear Channel? G-Unit?

Even more amazing to me is that this song is a single, which by definition demands radio play. But, as if to prove Weezy’s point or just to spite him because he hurt someone’s feelings, the song barely charted on the U.S. Hot R&B/Hip-Hop Charts at number 97. It didn’t even touch the Hot 100.

So, yeah, Wayne insults a lot of people in this song, but he does it in a way that makes his jibes fact instead of speculation. Like the masterful Jay-Z diss track “Takeover” (which causes me to think Nas is a total pussy whenever I listen to it) “Shooter” works its magic by hitting all the right buttons and making its author sound like a champion of the people and making everyone else a fucking joke.

“This is Southern. Face it: If we too simple, then y’all don’t get the basics.”

Pow.

The BEST Songs #2

For every rap song about love, there are 400 about anything else. Hell, I think there are more songs commemorating dead homies than there are ones about being in love. Sure, there’s Cannibal Ox’s “The F Word” (which is awesome) and a handful of songs from The Streets’ A Grand Don’t Come for Free (depending whether or not you call that rap), but you can probably hear 52 Cam’ron songs on MTV Hits about “hymen grinding” before you hear one song about love, and it’ll most likely be by Ne-Yo.

To me, it’s fitting that Ghostface Killah, the most critically acclaimed rapper who you’ll never hear on the radio, is one of the MC’s with a rare love song. By the time The Pretty Toney Album came out in 2004, I imagine Ghost must have been confused and angry. Ma$e’s new album was selling better than his, and Method Man had a TV show while all Ghostface had was this short (albeit genius) series of clips on MTV2. So Ghostface dropped the “Killah” from his name, told Raekwon to wait outside for a little while, and wrote a song about his girl. Because, fuck it. Nothing else was working.

Not that “Save Me Dear” blew up the charts or anything (it wasn’t even a single, sadly). Hell, The Pretty Toney Album didn’t even cause popguns to go off. This was the year “Jesus Walks” was making everyone a little more holy, and when forced to choose between asking Jesus and Ghostface’s Girl for salvation, the Big Guy upstairs had a longer reputation for reliability. So “Save Me Dear,” a simply remarkable song, went unnoticed.

Until now (Oh Snap).

The first thing that’s great about “Save Me Dear” is that Ghostface himself produced it. Ghost is by no means a producer by trade (or else the RZA would have nothing to do), which is why it’s something of a minor miracle that the production sounds as good as it does. It’s got horns, but not in a “MY NAME IS JUST BLAZE HAVE SOME FUCKING HORNS” kinda way, more like a Madlib, jazz-sampling way. The fact that Ghost thought this song was important enough that he wanted to create every aspect is something special. That’s love right there, man.

The hook, sung by Old Jazz Dude, gets extra endearing when Ghost himself sorta warbles along with him after the second verse. And, speaking of Ghostface’s warbles, the lyrics here do something that few, if any, other Ghostface songs do: They make sense. Pitchfork’s Jamin Warren, in his awesome capsule review of Supreme Clientele for their “2000-2004: The Top Albums of the Decade’s First Half” feature, wrote, “To be honest, I understand Toney about 40% of the time, and anyone claiming to do better can kiss my mulatto ass.” So to have “Save Me Dear” make pretty much perfect sense all the way through and not fuck up anything that makes Ghostface’s lyrics or delivery Supreme

One cool thing that he does, lyrically, is devotes 70% of the first verse to narration from his girl’s point of view. This allows him to escape his thug persona for a little while and lets his listeners see Ghostface (as a character) in a new light.

“She said, ‘If you shoot, you ain't the real Pretty Tone / Baby, come home, you not alone, be strong whether right or wrong’…” he raps in the middle of this first verse. And then, at the end, “‘And, hey, don't worry bout that jam, you gonna smash 'em / Whose asking? You're still to come / Stay focused, keep it cool, you know I love you’” to which Ghostface responds, “Love you too, babe, thank you.” It’s a tenderness that you can almost never find in rap lyrics, and it really works to Ghost’s advantage.

But, as any good writer knows, it ruins your story to betray a character’s true nature, so Ghost walks a very fine line, like Tupac in “Dear Mama” or “Thug’s Mansion”, between gangsta and sweetheart. In fact, the best line in the song is the one that finds that exact balance: “I'ma sell my guns, and with the cash I'ma bring you to Vegas.” Touching, n’est pas?

In short, Ghostface has written a song that masters a nearly untouched niche in rap music, and one that deserves further exploration. If rappers want to stay relevant as their music becomes more and more mainstream, they’re going to need to take a cue from Ironman: Show some love.

The BEST Songs #1

As opposed to "Download This Song," where I'll be highlighting more current singles/songs that I happen to be, as the kids say, "bumpin," "The BEST Songs" will be a recurring department where I gush over slightly older/much older songs that make my life a little bit better.
That said, on to Number One!


I'm not even sure where to begin with this song. It is the opinion of Swim Through Frequencies that Ms. Carlton has penned three of the greatest pop singles of the decade: The universally-adored "A Thousand Miles," the less well-known (even, until recently, by me) "Ordinary Day," and, most importantly, the exquisite "White Houses."

Of her albums I know very little, because I'm sure that they will only disappoint. As is the problem with Sir Robert Kelly, it is very difficult to spread the glory of a perfect pop song over the span of an entire album. The thing is, girls like Vanessa never sell albums. Whereas Britney Spears and Beyoncé sell roughly a thousand million copies, for some reason, girls who write kick-ass piano riffs backed by full string arrangements and sing their little hearts out only get their songs played on Kay Jewelry commercials and rapped over by Raw D.I.

There is no justice, so Swim Through Frequencies is about to get all vigilante up in here.

"White Houses" begins with a single piano note, which plays five times before Vanessa floats in. The first few lines set everything up pleasantly enough: Girl gets some new roommates, has a lot of fun with new roommates, expects to be BFFL with new roommates. They start drinking, and playing co-ed games of spin the bottle, which is always fun, (as far as I know from that one episode of Full House.)

The best part about the beginning of this song is the way the instrumentation builds up. Carlton's voice bursts with emotion and volume one second and quietly rides the melody the next. After the first note is hit five times, vocals and piano carry the song for a few lines, before being joined by a steady high hat roll. Thus ends the first verse.

The second verse explodes as a full drum set and string section attack the melody, taking Vanessa along for the ride. The line "Jenny screams out, and its no pose," is so vocally dynamic it makes me fall in love a little. Carlton's vocals manage to reflect her lyrics wonderfully: She is loud when her characters are loud, but immediately reverts to something that sounds a lot like regret for the narrator, who is shy at the beginning of the song and ashamed near the end.

"White Houses" tackles a lot of shit, something that most contemporary pop songs don't. Yeah, every once in a while you stumble across an "Unpretty" or that fucking Ludacris and Mary J. Blige song. But, most of what pop artists consider "reflection" sounds like Brittney Spears' "Lucky," in which Brittney sings about how it's lame to be Brittney, even though everyone loves her and she's rich. And pretty.

"White Houses," on the other hand is about a shy and naive girl who somehow falls in with a group of people who are in to boozin' it up and steamy make-outs. She tries to take it all in at once, tries falling in love and partying and not getting hurt, but it all sorta backfires.

And like, goddamn she makes it work. It's not heavy-handed, it's not preachy. By focusing the perspective on the specific people in her memory, she avoids spouting some sort of "Wish I had stayed abstinent, kids!" diatribe while still expressing her regret for making herself so vulnerable so quickly.

In the end, the song just works on every level. Sonically, it forces the listener to go on the journey with Carlton, whose lyrics do the job of getting her point across while taking some HUGE emotional risks, especially for a pop singer.

We here at Swim Through Frequencies are honored to have Vanessa Carlton's vastly under appreciated "White Houses" be the first on our list of "The BEST Songs."