THE SONGS THAT CONTINUOUSLY PLAY IN MY HEAD
Songs in the key of my life
The fact that I've spent the better part of this millennium in therapy probably shocks no one. I've only written on this VIBE blog a little over a month and my penchant for violence and the christening of big bootys in church buildings has possibly become old hat to many of you. I've seen a mental health professional about my temper, interesting sessions where the therapist claimed that my violent outbursts stemmed from my father's mistreatment of me. Our last meeting ended very weirdly with the guy proving to me that he watched entirely too much Good Will Hunting - he hugged me like a madman while whispering, "It's not your fault, HumanityCritic!!" in my ear. (Hitting him in the chest and screaming "No touching!! No touching!!" still cracks me up now.) After that, it was suggested to me that I see someone about my father issues, which I did, and that crazy head-shrinking broad wanted me to go to Arlington National Cemetery and have daily conversations with my father's gravesite over the course of a week. Even though I wound up going to the D.C area, I spent that entire week getting shitfaced at local watering holes and ordering hookers from the comfort of my hotel room like they were Chinese take-out.
But one aspect of my mental health has always troubled me, especially over the past decade or so: the soundtrack music accompanying the rather chubby existence that is my life. Some people hear voices. Many men equipped with Styrofoam cups and ghastly smells claimed that they indeed died for our sins, I'm just a guy who hears songs inside his head that seem to fit certain situations. I'm telling all of you this because I'm sure you'll just chalk it as me attempting to make my VIBE post quota, but I'm scared to tell my family because I'm worried that I'll end up in a padded room somewhere, with Rockwell's "Somebody's Watching Me" playing in my head on a constant loop.
M.O.P, "Downtown Swinga": There's nothing like introductory music that makes a statement, sort of like how wrestling fans go completely apeshit after just hearing the first few notes of their favorite spandex-wearer theme music before he reaches the stage. I always wanted that sort of excitement. So much, in fact, that any time I'm introduced - whether for was the spoken word poem I delivered last year where I jokingly declared my love for white women in front of a sea of dashikis and sarongs, or at the local community college that asked me to read some of my writings in front of twenty 40-50 year olds who wore lifelong regret on their faces like spectacles - M.O.P's "Downtown Swinga" is what I hear in my head before I make my presence felt like Santa and shit. Matter of fact, if the world can overlook my pro-whore stance and my intense marijuana habit, and somehow I can be president of this fine land, this is the music that I will broadcast before giving presidential addresses.
M.O.P feat Guru, "Half and Half": While we are on the subject of M.O.P, I have to tell you about this particular tune that plays in my head during physical altercations. I know, I'm a 33-year-old man who doesn't need to be fighting anyone, and I'm aware that the last thing on my mind should be me strategically placing a throat-chop to some random asshole's voicebox at such an advanced age. But it is my humble opinion that there are just too many Lil Wayne fans out there to let such indiscretions go with a simple warning slap on the wrist, and this is the song that plays in my head as I beat someone senseless with my copy of Wild Style.
Fat Boys, "Jailhouse Rap": I don't claim to be a hardened criminal or anything - I've never been shot or seen time inside the walls of one of those "drop the soap at your own peril" institutions, so being a gangsta rapper is completely out of the question. But I have been in enough drunken brawls in my lifetime to have seen far too many city jail cells. How depressing - being in a cell with a handful of other drunken degenerates who share the same lack of decision-making skills. It's enough to break a straight man out in song (literally). So every time I've been locked up - from everything from punching out an old man to public drunkenness - I break the monotony and simply share the song that's already in my head with my cellmates. Sure, they hate it and threaten my life sometimes, but they always admire my commitment as I perform every beatbox part.
Eric B and Rakim, "Mahogany": Physically I'm not repulsive, but I've turned off women with the shit that I've said so much that on most weekends I spend my late nights drunk dialing all my happily married ex-girlfriends and screaming, "You could have had it all!!!" ad naseum into the phone. That said, when some woman I'm chatting with seems to be buying my brand of bullshit, legitimately laughing at my jokes, and flashing a "come hither" look usually reserved for the woman whose drinks I spike, Eric B and Rakim's song "Mahogany" is what's played in the back of my head.
Marvin Gaye, "Trouble Man": Even though Virginia Beach is a fairly big city, it becomes increasingly smaller when you take into account all the people who know each other. That's why whenever I have met the parents of a woman that I planned to marry at the time, I always felt obligated to run down my dark and sordid past with them piece by piece. I'm not a bad guy - I have a soft spot in my heart for puppies and the movie Cooley High for Christ's sake - but hearing about my past (a thing of legend around these parts) from me might be a lot easier to take. As I break down the fighting, the arrests, the inappropriate speeches I've given at weddings, women that wanted me dead in the worst ways imaginable, Marvin Gaye's "Trouble Man" is what I hear while watching a father's face turn to nothing short of disgust.
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Comments
1.
Brother Omi says:
MOP is the joint. Downtown Swinga is that primo joint that never gets mentioned...
04/06/2007 at 1:19 AM
2.
Simplenigma says:
LMAO...Interesting choices.
I think that's why I like Scrubs so much...Songs are always playing in my head. They usually go with the current scenario, but a consistent one is Musical Youth's "Pass the Dutchie"...which is ironic, considering that I don't smoke. LOL.
Recently though, my brain has been bombarded by SNL's "Dick in a Box" at the most inopportune moments (like in a meeting to discuss strategy moments after a colleague was "let go"). I ended up having to fake a coughing fit and excuse myself.
04/03/2007 at 4:40 PM
3.
Odhis says:
damn...i thought i was the only one that has songs playin in my head continuously.....nice to see that i am not crazy...as i type this Lupe's I gotcha is playing in my head...."come in hip hop/ we come to resurrect u, u , u/
pamoja!!!
04/03/2007 at 5:05 AM