Jay Z
“Holy Grail” (featuring Justin Timberlake), #8
“Tom Ford”, #39
“Fuckwithmeyouknowigotit” (featuring Rick Ross), #64
“Part II (On the Run)”, (featuring Beyonce), #81
“Oceans” (featuring Frank Ocean), #83
“Picasso Baby”, #91
“Crown”, #100
Though it may have happened earlier, for me Magna Carta Holy Grail marks the moment when Jay Z makes the final switch from artist to brand. Whatever he has to say (and none of it is new) has become less important than the fact that he’s the one saying it and that by saying it he maintains his preeminence as a name, and art be damned (if he wants art, he’ll buy it). Rap is now just one of the holdings in his well-diversified portfolio, and though it may be the foundation for everything else, and therefore can’t be ignored, it’s no longer the most important.
Which doesn’t mean it isn’t a fine brand. “Tom Ford” is good, and the rest is passable, if sometimes just barely. There is one essential element missing, though: Kanye West. Besides his musical gifts, West brought an edge to Watch The Throne that Jay Z could never hope to recreate—certainly not with Timbaland, who’s been sitting on his genius even longer than Jay Z. Not that they don’t try, but without West there to push him, Jay Z settles too easily for what he already knows, what he feels safe with. In a sense, West has become Flava Flav to Jay Z’s Chuck D, the egotistic clown who makes Jay Z looks serious and distinguished, but who is also the true musical force behind the partnership (the comparison is reinforced by “Picasso Baby”, which sounds like a Public Enemy demo Flav didn’t bother to show up for). Despite all the great things he’s done in the past, these days, without West, Jay Z’s just a logo.
Justin Timberlake—“Take Back the Night”
#47
This pedantically crafted tribute to early 80s Michael Jackson makes two important points about Justin Timberlake: 1) he’s still immensely talented, even if his talent bores him a little; 2) he’s completely out of ideas (the same goes for Timbaland). Other than being too long, there isn’t much wrong with “Take Back the Night”, but there’s nothing exciting about it, either. It has less of the cellophane wrapped nostalgia of Daft Punk’s “Get Lucky”, but it’s in the same general area. The real difference is that Daft Punk made their misguided journey to the past out of love, whereas Timberlake needed to come up with something to fill a contractual obligation. Oddly enough, Timberlake’s disinterest may be what makes the record bearable. Imagine how overblown it might be if he cared.
Lana Del Rey & Cedric Gervais—“Summertime Sadness”
#72
I still don’t think much of Del Rey, but there’s no doubt that, at least as far as pop music goes, “Summertime Sadness” is her best and most tolerable record. I prefer the original version, though. By speeding up the tempo, Cedric Gervais’s remix removes most of the mystical languor Del Rey likes to wallow in, rendering the song catchier, but also meaningless. It is different, though. Instead of the usual high-energy diva vocals that populate most EDM, Del Rey’s non-voice creates real tension with the music. That only makes the record listenable, not meaningful, but it opens another crack for EDM to become the dominant sound in pop, if it isn’t already.
The FiNATTiCZ—“Don’t Drop That Thun Thun!”
#88
The references to jerkin’ and the dougie automatically bias me in this record’s favor, though the fact that it’s all about picking up women on ecstasy cools my ardor. Still, this is old school rap in the best possible way; that is, a bunch of guys stringing together as many words as possible to tell the silliest stories they can think of. The first verse is the best, but they’re all enjoyable. Just wish the chorus had more to it.
Karmin—“Acapella”
#98
The cynicism and self-importance are bad enough, but what’s really irritating about this duo is their belief that pop music is easy. Not just in the sense of the skills involved, but in the sense that anybody who wants to can fuck with it, and it will just lay back (or roll over) and take it. So in order to maintain whatever they consider their self-respect, they keep an ironic distance, fill their records with dumb jokes both musical and lyrical, and generally treat pop music like it was their bitch. Since pop music essentially is the pop audience, that may explain why they’ve yet to score a follow-up to “Brokenhearted”. They’re hateful in almost every way, and the audience they think they can manipulate on a whim is starting to catch on.