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50 Cent: Music of the Heart… Or Die Trying

No Estefan.

“What I fell in love with and inspired me to get into hip-hop is dwindling away. I’d like to be a representation of that, because there isn’t much of that left. I think people are so conscious of the numbers they’re not being creative anymore. I’ve received nothing but positive feedback on this collaboration. And it’s a surprise because it’s playing in a space where you wouldn’t traditionally hear 50 Cent. It’s exciting and it’s a whole new charge of energy for the person that is tuning in.”

50 Cent,

By “this collaboration”, 50 Cent means “Mujeres En El Club” with reggaetoneros Wisin Y Yandel. By “positive feedback”, 50 means, “I haven’t left the crib in a while, but Dre and Em think it’s cool.”

Amazing. Such poignant and heartfelt words to make music by coming from one of rap’s most deliberate forgery offenders.

I understand the notion of artists losing their drive or curtailing true artistry to advance in industry. I don’t think it’s necessarily effective or the right answer in most cases, but I understand why it’s done. Niggas are trying to get out of the projects and don’t believe they can really do so on the strength of who they actually are. Whatever. The present incarnation of 50 Cent is a different man than the scruffy, scrappy youngster pouring everything he had into Onyx guest appearances. His metamorphosis was gradual and, needless to say, fiscally successful.

It’s kind of sad to listen to 2009 50 Cent fall prostrate before his [former] audience lamenting artistic integrity sold. However, the nigga is lying to you as he tries to pass off “Mujeres En El Club”–which translates to “Women in the Club”, in case you couldn’t grasp that one by context–as the result of a soul search intent on reviving the kid Clyde Smith wanted to slap around on Supreme Clientele.

“–In the Club”, you say? Hmmm. That sounds so familiar. I can’t put my finger on where I’ve heard it before, though. Damn. Oh, well. Put a pin in that one. We’ll come back to it.

[Blogger’s Note: 50 Cent’s debut album is entitled “Get Rich or Die Trying” not “Damn, I’m Just Dying Inside and Can’t Wait to Share My Creative Vision With You“, as many assume.]

“Mujeres En El Club” is not only a blatantly forced and obviously desperate crossover attempt, it’s also terrible. If 50 didn’t drop a throwaway verse on the jawn, I might even be inclined to believe his bellyaching. Instead, he mailed one in on a weak crossover and is paying for it in the court of public opinion.

[Blogger’s Note: Wisin Y Yandel, on the other hand, are going as hard as their capabilities permit.]

It’s really easy to blame the same industry that made one rich beyond belief once the formula doesn’t work as well anymore. All 50 really had to do was make the shit dope. Then, we wouldn’t be having this conversation and I wouldn’t be making a few dollars off of his shine job today.

Interestingly enough, 50 Cent likens hip-hop’s evolution to that of rock & roll–with which I agree. But that’s an entirely new box of Triscuits to open. Eh, fuck it. I’m hungry.

Triscuit: Crossovers and cross-genre collaborations are nothing new. Part of a genre’s evolution is the eventual creation of what the music scholars like to call “sub-genre”. Hip-hop is big enough to maintain many of these, as rock does. However, I don’t give a fuck about the classification of my music. 50 could rap over a ukulele and accordion, so long as the shit is tight. If he makes a weak song using a transparent formula for commercial success, he should anticipate the pain associated with both musical and career cancer.

Damn. I fucked up the title. It should have read, “–Or Die Trying Too Hard“. Oh, well.

Questions? Comments? Requests? Need that cheap chemo?

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