Damn you, “Beautiful Girls”
You know what’s an awful song? “Beautiful Girls” by Sean Kingston. The first time I heard it was on the radio in my car a couple of weeks ago on the way to see the Police (no, the group) down at the Scottrade Center. I was just flipping through the stations and there it was, on the white people’s hip-hop station. Fortunately, the song was damn near over. Otherwise, I probably would’ve damn near swerved the car off the road trying to change the station.
It’s been on a couple of times since then, when I was on my way to cop a burrito or a 30 of Bud Light or whatever, but yesterday marked the first time I actually forced myself to listen to it in its entirety, for the sake of journalism. How in the world this managed to become popular to the point where it seems to be on the radio more often not is beyond me, but who knows. After all, look at how many songs on the radio these days feature people singing through a motherfucking vocoder.
First of all, the guy’s singing about motherfucking suicide. Who even knew you could sing about suicide on the radio? Remember that time Ozzy Osbourne got sued because dumbass kid blew his head off after listening to “Suicide Solution” from Blizzard of Ozz. (Don’t play dumb.) You’d think this kid’s label would be hesitant to even opening themselves up to that kind of liability, but I guess they’re gonna take their chances.
Granted I realize the suicide rate in the black community isn’t nearly the same as it is among white people, but I’ve heard it’s going up. It used to be the case that black people were far too depressed to even consider suicide. So I guess in that sense this could be viewed as a sign of progress, but I don’t know. Thank god KRS-One’s stepson went ahead and offed himself when he did, or else this shit might have pushed him right over the edge.
To be sure, I can appreciate the sense of dread that comes with realizing that a broad is just plain out of your league. For a man of my means and my… um, personal appearance (I would argue that I’m at least better-looking than Sean Kingston, but who would listen?) this tends to be the case more often than not. But at the same time, it’s like, what are you gonna do? My ego just won’t allow me to consider any broad less than an 8 for anything other than the paper bag treatment after a night of hard drinking.
But still, I’m pretty sure that’s why god invented self-medication. All this going on TV and singing like a fruit about how your going to commit suicide over a girl is just teh ghey, and I can’t help but think that the ridonkulous success of “Beautiful Girls” is yet another example of the pussification of the black male. One day you’ve got guys walking around in tight jeans and silk shirts with the chest hairs all out and now there’s this. What’s next a guy rapping about how he kisses his father? Oh wait.