Wednesday, November 23, 2005

From the Vault: "Candy Shop"

Earlier this year, Worker #3116 attempted to secure work writing a hip-hop cassingle review column for a MAJOR PUBLICATION. Earlier this year, Worker #3116 failed at what he attempted. Here is one of his sample reviews.

50 Cent (feat. Olivia) – "Candy Shop"

Do you remember that scene in Willie Wonka and the Chocolate Factory when the fat kid falls in the chocolate river? That part is SOOOO funny. Fat people cannot control their ever-insistent need to EAT EVERYTHING THEY SEE. I bet that fat kid would have drank the whole chocolate river by himself if he hadn’t got sucked into a pneumatic tube. But that’s not the part I want to talk about. I want to talk about the part at the beginning when Charlie is really poor and walking home to his hovel, and passes by the candy shop where all the normal kids (who don’t have a fetid bed full of invalids in the middle of the kitchen) are indulging their desires for candy. In this scene the owner of the candy shop goes into a nearly psychotic state, raging around the room, throwing fucking candy everywhere and you’re like "wait, that’s the adult in this situation?" Michael Jackson at least had the decency to pour his wine into a Diet Coke can when he was around children. This candy guy would surely have no qualms about tucking his box of Franzia right under his arm and going all beer bong style with his cheeks stuffed full of gum drops and candy canes. Well, apparently this is 50 Cent’s favorite scene in any movie ever!

See, even when you get a million dollars and your own line of Reebok shoes, your success is still measured in how many delicious treats you can stuff into your face. Now, those treats may be vaginas instead of everlasting gobstoppers, but even when this is the case, the only way to express your ability to overindulge in these "sweets" is by literally translating them into delicious candies. At least, this is what one must conclude from 50 Cent’s "Candy Shop." When he says, "I’ll let you lick the lollypop," I mean, I get it, but I also don’t. Just take a moment and imagine yourself in an intimate situation. You clear the empty beer cans, wadded tissues, and gentlemen’s magazines from the other side of the bed, your friend lays down, the lights are low, and you whisper "I’ll let you lick the lollypop." I promise, within fifteen seconds you can put all that shit right back where it was, feel grateful you didn’t waste time changing the sheets, and dim the lights all the way to off because what you’re about to do to yourself is between you and God.

But that’s where you and 50 Cent differ. 50 could rap the phone book and make it sound good. He’s the Avril Lavigne of rap. Let me explain: you may think that wearing a man’s necktie over a white tank top, and having jelly bracelets that come up to your elbows is about as punk as the time your mom was singing along to Cyndi Lauper at your cousin’s Bat Mitzvah, all drunk and embarrassingly touchy with your step-dad out on the dancefloor shouting "girls just wanna have FUUUUUUUNNNNN, Dave!" But personal style and ability to speak in teenage-angsty Our Bodies Our Selves platitudes aside, what Avril does is create absolutely irresistible pop songs, just like 50 Cent creates absolutely irresistible pop raps. The more you try to dislike either of them, the more likely you are to find yourself up in the middle of the night, illegally downloading one of their songs just so you can get the goddamn thing out of your mind and get to fucking sleep. 50’s new 4.1 million dollar house in Farmington, Connecticut is almost as thug as Avril buying that totally rebel-style studded belt at Hot Topic was punk. But if you’re looking for a song to make your ipod go all wet in its ports, you can’t do much better.

At one point in "Candy Shop," 50 rhymes "I touch the right spot at the right time." First, you’re like, Wait, there’s more than one? But then you realize that at least as far as his music is concerned, it’s true. If you’re having an Elliot Smith day, then go write another email to your mom and brew some Constant Comment tea, but if you want to have a Planned Parenthood type scare with a real woman, there is only one CD you need playing in the background. "You can have it your way, how do you want it?"

B

1 Comments:

Blogger New_Dawn_Fades said...

I aspire to be a music journalist.

Your review brings me to shame.

Bravo, sir, bravo.

3:49 PM  

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