I Don't Care About Axl Rose
Da Shop Boyz: "Party Like a Rock Star"
At this moment there is less vitality, less excitement, less it, in mainstream rock music than there has been since the mid-'80s, when synth pop and new wave ruled (and even then U2 and Bruce Springsteen were releasing big, bold statement albums). But there is this perception, this gross, off-base obsession for some, that rock's glamour supercedes hip-hop's, mainly by hip-hop artists themselves. This splits in two ways: The first, an old trend, results in artists like 50 Cent and Timbaland gushing hopelessly about bands like Coldplay and their brilliance. This leads to the interpolalation of that band's work into modern hip-hop. Songs like 50's gooey "God Gave Me Style" which transposes the hook from Coldplay's "God Put a Smile On My Face," broadly attack the idea and nod at their muse, acting blatantly about rock's influence, as opposed to letting rock's relationship with rap, via sampling, play out. "God Gave Me Style" felt less earned or sharp than that. It felt like a stab at credibility, or for lack of a better term, musicianship. What it ignores is the untouted musicianship in all of hip-hop, from the simplest melodies of Dem Franchise Boyz to the grim-faced basement boom of the Boot Camp Clik to Timbaland's exotic, entrancing concoctions. For Timbaland, a pop devourer, to pray at the altar of Chris Martin (and later produce for him) is an unfair agreement. Tim, to his credit, has tried to blur those lines, somewhat unsuccessfully, on his new album, Shock Value. But the return in the agreement rarely feels equal. Marginal, even. Maybe that's because rock stars aren't willing to cede their white privilege, but that's a slippery slope. Or maybe they just don't care about hip-hop as much as they do their own art. More likely. Unlike their rap collaborators, who have an idolators' complex about the form.
The second direction of the split is the fetishization of rock's extravagance: In short — Girls, Cash Cars, all in abundance. Da Shop Boyz' "Party Like a Rock Star" is a regional hit now, but I suspect it will only grow in popularity. And the song, a riotous blast, works toward the same end. But it begs the question: Who, exactly, wants to party like a rock star right now? Furthermore, who are our rock stars? Chris Daughtry and Nickelback? Surely no one wants to hang with Daughtry, he seems like a surly asshole. Or maybe Hinder, whose blank-faced troglodyte hitmaking hardly inspires revolutionary music. Pickins, for rock gods, are slim.
The great irony here, obviously, is that in many ways, rock stars should be looking to rappers for cred and glamour. In some cases they are. Look at the way Pete Wentz of Fall Out Boy gloms on to pal Jay-Z (and he to him). Jay submitted a track to F.O.B.'s new album. Unclear if they'll appear on his new album. Travis Barker's association with Paul Wall says as much, too. Barker appears to get it, even if the music's he making is deplorable. But surely there is more the lead singer of The Fray or Saliva (though admittedly their lead singer Josey Scott is responsible for the "LAAAAAME" on "The Takeover") can learn from Young Buck about swagger and showmanship, than he from them. And yet, perhaps inspired by Eminem's rock-ish ranting and raving, Young Buck has made the last song on his new album, "Lose My Mind," a mawkish, angry rock paean. As if that final statement were a more accurate closing shot than the previous 18 tracks of gritty Southern rap.
Young Buck: "Lose My Mind"
from Buck The World (G-Unit/Interscope 2007)
But Buck doesn't need this. He need only look to himself for the manic excitement he's searching for — he's already an ecstatic force. But when coded in rock's text, he sounds like something he's not: Boring.

Comments
1.
King JEC IV says:
Rock should take a cue from rap/hip hop music? Given the negative impact that it's had on the black community, I think that would be a bad thing. I like substance to my music. In no way am I stating that rap doesn't have substance. I'm more picking at the mainstream rap that's popular right now. I don't want to hear about your money, clothes and cars all the damn time.
As for 'Party Like a Rock Star', do these guys even know any white people? When's the last time you heard a white guy say, 'totally, dude!' or 'Cowabunga"?! If you're going to party like a rock star, get your white slang right first!
04/06/2007 at 5:24 PM
2.
That Dude says:
Good shit. If only Buck's record sounded as good as it's clear he wished it did. More to the point, if only the rap records on his album sounded even better.
03/27/2007 at 6:06 PM