Dudeman: It's pronounced "Wa-lay" (apparently).

Wale Folarin








Mark Ronson sans velvet


Mark Ronson playing the electric sitar with Danie Merriweather's band


Daniel Merriweather and the Dap Kings


Daniel Merriweather

Alright. The comments on the last post established the fact that I can't decipher lyrics: "illegal woman" for "mean, evil woman," "secret Asian man," for "secret agent man," etc. Whatever. There's a lot of people who are similarly afflicted. If I may refer y'all to the Friends episode where Phoebe mistakenly combined John Elton's Tiny Dancer with Who's the Boss "Tony Danza" which resulted in the bastard lyric "Hold me closer Tony Danza."

But after last night's show at SOB's, I've come to the realization that I'm not so good with names either. Wale Folarin's first name is pronounced "Wah-lay" not "Wally" and is most certainly NOT a homophone of "whale," (as in Moby Dick, Willy, and Shamu), which is how I've been pronouncing it. Alex, the PR guy for SOB corrected me at last night's show.

After we finally got in (we had to wait outside for half an hour because SOB was at capacity since Allido records added 700 people to the guest list at the last minute), we scored a sweet spot close to the small, raised stage, right behind photogs from legit publications. They had their "professional" black Nikkons and I had my Sony Cyber-shot that Judy and Kathy gave me for my 24th birthday. Despite my amateur equipment, I think that I walked away with some pretty good shots.

I'm there as long as Wale doesn't brag about the Redskins.

DC rapper Wale Folarin has a high opinion of himself. Listed after “Sounds Like” on his myspace page, Folarin wrote:
“Think of what a deaf person’s interpretation of very good music would sound like ...multiplied by your favorite song’s impact when you knew you loved it, multiplied by what would happen if music never existed until you heard it, add a million to that and you’d be 1/100000 of the way to understanding my sound.”

So Wale’s music is lyrically mind blowing and inspirational….like Dangerous Minds mashing with Mr. Holland’s Opus; Coolio over Gershwin; band director’s paradise indeed (hold the Astroturf). That’s the kind of impact his music has on one’s tympanic membrane: His rhymes makes them bust faster than flying at 30,000 feet above sea level without any gum to relieve the pressure. That shit be booming…or so he claims.

Rappers talk game; that’s what they do. They can only talk about weed, prison, bitches, head, Cadillacs, lip gloss, booties, Superman, dollar$, sex, and mammas so much before the discussion veers onto bigger and better things: their sheer awesomeness.



But my jealousy is getting the best of me. I have a healthy respect for the bionic wordplay of rap superstars and I’m being unfair and snarky because I find myself opening rhyming dictionaries and looking up entries for simple monosyllabic words like “cake” or “purse.” There’s no way I can perform rhyming social commentary that’s entertaining and on beat. Yet Folarin in “WALEDANCE” manages to allude to the steroid epidemic and brag about his lingual prowess in the second verse:

“And I must admit
I bring creatine to the scene
Your developmental league don’t see a team
I got a stitch lil nigga
You can see my seam…”

Or brag about his “headspace:”
I get brain everyday, I’m a know-it-all

Or drop names:
“My climate is way higher then Lindsay Lohan’s nostrils on powder
Sorry Mark I don’t want offend your sisters good friend
But when my pen get in
It pretends it’s a soul and an entity,
And it interferes and gets the best of me…”

He’s good times and I’ll be at SOB’s tomorrow at 8 PM to see if Folarin can c-walk the walk, and talk the talk. Check out www.myspace.com/wale for more info and some awesome pictures of Miss Lohan and company.

Folarin, Daniel Merriweather, Rhymefest, the great, velveted Mr. Mark Ronson, (and perhaps some pop tartlets) will be shaking things up go-go style tomorrow night. Fun times and facebook photo ops to be had indeed.

The BRIT is BACK.

What can I say besides I told you so!

It's not surprising that Brit's team decided to piggyback off the video's debut before releasing "Womanizer" on iTunes. We all know that she's more of a performer than a vocalist anyways.

At last...WOMANIZER

Britney's new single from her upcoming album (set to drop on her birthday) is certainly catchy and that's putting it kindly. It's the most infectious, no, most ear-worming of all her singles. It enters the ear canal, tunnels into the cerebellum and sets up house. Before the second chorus is over, the song has house plants, matching bathmats, and plastic covering on the couches. The beast is a squatter.

And I consider myself a loyal Britney fan.

It's not the droning beat (if you can even call it that. It's more like a buzzing airplane than a beat)
that bothers me. It's the fact that "womanizer" is half-sung/half-spoken 40 times in three minutes.

Chorus: Womanizer, Wo-womanizer, You're a womanizer, Oh--Womanizer, Oh--You're a Wo-womanizer,
You, You-you are, You, You-you are,
Womanizer, Womanizer, Womanizer, Womanizer.
Boy don't try to front, I know-know just what you are.
Boy don't try to front, I know-know just what you are.
You, (you got me going), You, oh so slimy.
But I can't do it. You Womanizer.

Boy don't try to front, I know-know just what you are.
Boy don't try to front, I know-know just what you are.

You say I'm crazy, I got you crazy.
You're nothing but a womanizer.

Seriously?

AND. If you count the title, "Womanizer" (shocking!), it's 41 times.