The Odd Juxtapositions of Life

Drake (featuring R. Kelly)--"Best I Ever Had (Skeemix)" (mp3)

I laid a big turd the other night, a big, fat, musical turd. We were playing a casual game of "Ipod Wars," a contest my friend created wherein everyone takes turns trying to pick a song from their pod that is somehow better than what was previously played. In its serious form, each song actually gets a rating from 1 to 5, not exactly for how great the song is or isn't, but for how perfect that song is for that Ipod War at that moment.

So into the mix of Ukranian folk punk, 90's rehash, classic stuff (no ladies, please!) and several guys just spinning through their Iphones, looking for the perfect song but not actually competing, I went with the song "Best I Ever Had" by Drake and featuring R. Kelly. That's right. Hip-hop. You'd have thought I farted in the room. And I suppose in the context of the game, I shouldn't have played it--the room was kind of loud, the music wasn't quite loud enough, you couldn't hear the words.

What? Couldn't hear the words? It's a hip-hop song! Are you kidding me? No, I'm not. I'm here to tell you that Eddie Murphy was wrong when he criticized white people for listening to the words. In rap, that's where the fun is.

You know, it took a long time and a fair amount of help for me to come to terms with rap. It used to really piss me off, offend my sensibilities, all of that. Because I used to, in my serious white-boy way, take it seriously. I don't recall when it finally hit me that rap is all a joke, a big posturing, but when it finally did, then I got it. Rap, a good bit of it, is laugh out loud funny. Rivals, smackdowns, East vs. West Coast, champagne in the hot tub, street cred from a rough upbringing (which is why Usher tried to pretend he was from Atlanta, not Chattanooga), smoking weed all the time, 24/7, while cruising down the street. And I mean, if you're going to be a decent rapper, you've got to be a misogynist about the entire race of females cause all them bitches and hoes be throwin' themselves at you all the time, but you still want to find that perfect lady and treat her with the respect that she deserves.

Check out Mr. Drake, for example:

Baby your my everything,
your all I ever wanted,
we can do it real Big
bigger then you ever done it
You be up on everything
other Hoes ain't never on it
I want this forever
I swear I Can spend whatever on it.
Cause she hold me down every time
I Hit her up when I get right
I Promise that we gon' live it up
She make me beg for it till
she give it & I say the same thing
Every single time I say you the Fucking best,
you the fucking Best, you the fucking best,
you The fucking best,
you the best I Ever had,
best I ever had,
best I Ever had,
best I ever had,
I said you the fucking, etc.

It ain't elegant, but it's from the heart. Unfortunately, if it is meant to be sincere, it's also very funny, at least funny in the sense that these guys are sitting around making this stuff up and someone suggests the bare-bones, stripped to the core sentiment to the woman he loves. "Look, man, just say it like it is: 'You the fucking best.'" And I can see the nods going all around then thinking maybe we can get R. Kelly to come in and sing it. It's straight, it's real. I mean, what woman wouldn't want to hear that from her man? Or vice-versa.

But wait, there's more. By the second verse, Drake has gotten a bit more expansive, maybe has forgotten his original mission stated at the start of the song:

You know a lot of girls be thinking
My songs are about them,
This is not to get confused
This ones for you .

Because by the end of verse 2, it's all spinning together:

You the fucking best,
And I'm the fucking best,
So we the fucking best.

Whoa! Do you mean, Mr. Drake, that the song isn't really about her? Is it quite possibly about your own sexual prowess? I thought we were going toward "you complete me" here, but I'm sensing a shift towards "I complete you." You don't even need her to tell you that you're the "fucking best" because, darn it, you already know it, you've always known it.

As I was thinking about all of this, I was reminded of the spam in my mailbox. I don't know if you ever look at your spammed email, but here's a sampling of the subject lines of some of mine recently:

Be Her Love General
Don't Let Your Rod Fall
Right Packs for Night Acts!
Carnal Revitalizer
Immediate Hot Rod Reviver
Increasing Your Instrument Means Enlarging Your Masculinity
Your Bedroom Doesn't Smell Like Intimacy Anymore?
Lost Your Libido and Strength? We Will Help You Look For It!
Now You Don't Need a Crane To Life Your Instrument Up
With A Monster Device You Will Feel A More Important Man
Take Her From Above
How To Measure That Long Tail





Yes, we remain a society obsessed with sexual prowess, so much so that the concept of "snake oil" seems to take on a whole new meaning in the context of what these Internet offers promise they can do for your God-given manhood. You know, now that I look these emails over, I realize that with just a little Internet online shopping help, I could be the "fucking best" myself. Maybe I could give Drake a run for his money. But, naw. Wanna know why? Because here's what Drake throws down at the end:

She call me the referee
Cause I be so official,
my shirt Aint got no stripes
but I can make ya p---y whiiiiiiiistle
Like The Andy Griffin theme song

Man, that's outta my league, just like them Ipod Wars. Drake, in my head right now I can hear Aunt Bea scolding you. That ain't right, man.

I don't think Ipod Wars are ready for rap just yet. Cock Rock, AC/DC, that kind of stuff, is always going to go down well, get the knowing nods and the "good calls" and all sorts of affirmation, but cock rap, hmmm, I don't know, maybe too threatening. Or maybe the music, the backbeat, everything is too manufactured and repetitive. All I know is this: if they ever invent Ipod Song Lyric Wars, my man Drake will be in my corner. He's the best.

Drake is available at Itunes.