Music – Essay
The Music section of Wusgood is to discuss all things musical, or life through a musical perspective
A Not-Review of an Album that Shouldn’t Be
By Amber Flame
Black Twitter has proven that the average Black person has access to a semi-professional recording studio, given the alacrity with which they respond with shade in song to any circumstance calling for it. And I, for one, am here for it. Do it. So when the girl I’m fucking tells me we need to hold off on kicking it because she was working on her album, I was 100% supportive. There wasn’t much we had in common besides music, particularly Prince, but we had fun fucking in cars and talking about concerts. I respected her focus on her art and listened supportively to her ideas.
Weekends passed, no booty. But I was going through my own shit and when I did see her, I was impressed to hear she was doing it all herself – the instrumentation and beats, recording and mixing, and all the vocals. I was… a little confused when she bragged about no hooks, saying, “I just say what I want to say, and that’s it.” But you know, I respected her giving up pussy for her art. Can’t say I’d have it in me.
And then the album dropped.
Look y’all. I know this is a music page. For reviews n’ shit. This is where I give you a couple of sentences about the hottest tracks, the ones that have potential. But this album was trash. 22 minutes I am never gonna get back. Each track, I had that squint of Black women everywhere when they trying to listen through something they already know is garbage. The face of patience ill spent:
And I wanted to make this a positive come-up for a local artist, an opportunity for people who would never heard of ________. I listened to the whole thing with the intention of finding the good. There are some good beats, some potential in working with people who… know how to write songs. But if you ignore the monotonous drone of semi-rap talk, if you don’t anticipate a hook to pull it all together – look, if you always wanted to know what someone thinks about with two blunts and a microphone, look her up. Or as she said:
If you lookin for a friend to eat dinner with/ Call me/ If you lookin for somebody to stunt on your ex on/ Call me/ If you lookin for a good time outside, girl, go on and just/ Call me/ I’m down for the night, but if you lookin for a main thing/ Don’t… call me
–
“Call me… Maybe” by Nerdoc
Fam, I ain’t been able to bring myself to call her since. That shit should have been fire. My pussy is offended, and I’m not going to be able to bring myself to fuck her ever again.