Music review
Coming soon to a stadium or arena near you … more prerecorded music by the Baha Men. The nine-piece Bahamian group behind “Who Let the Dogs Out” would be delirious if they could only make that come true and generate another theme song for college and professional sports. Forget about the hard work behind touring, just play their chants over the sound system and give them royalties.
The group’s new “Move It Like This” offers two possibilities for another “Who Let the Dogs Out.” The title track (reprised as a springier dance cut at album’s end) is a fired-up, overwhelming and cartoonish song with emphatic “ohs” and “ahs.” It’s a taxing bit of kiddie Euro-techno that just might kick-start a sports fan’s spirit, especially a sports fan who has been drinking.
The other promising cut, “Best Years of Our Lives,” charms with a buoyant mix of horns and percussion, a more honest style of island music to reflect the 20-year-old band’s history.
Ten dreadful filler tracks account for the rest of “Move It Like This” – embarrassing fare like an insipidly straightforward (yet somehow inevitable) cover of “Put the Lime in the Coconut,” and desperately amateurish party songs such as “Giddyup” and “The Wave.” The more energy the band expends with its stilted and dated maneuvering, the more enervating the effect.
Then there’s the lethal message song “Normal” that is both cutesy and heavy handed, and a dashed-out “Rich in Love” in which our randy heroes try to come to terms with a hot but mercenary woman. Oh, the cliches.
“Move It Like This” should be a two-song single because no one should have to endure the full length of this album … let alone pay for it.
Rating (five possible): 1-1/2
“Cinquieme As,” MC Solaar
Unless you’re an art historian, an unguided trip to the Louvre can be an overwhelming and eventually numbing experience. Sure, you can appreciate the artistry, but unless you understand the context of the works, they tend to blur together.
Unless you speak French, an untranslated listen to MC Solaar’s “Cinquieme As” likewise can be overwhelming and numbing.
Beyond a small-type acknowledgment that the title translates to “Fifth Ace,” the liner notes to the release from the African-French rapper, touted as “Europe’s Biggest Hip-Hop Superstar,” provide only untranslated French lyrics.
And even Americans with a little education in the language will be lost trying to navigate their way through the jargon and rambling passages of “Cinquieme As.”
The histrionic arrangements and Solaar’s earnest delivery give an indication that this is lyrically a more substantial album than the status quo American rap release. That’s partially true: There are mercifully no ridiculous skits about getting stoned, shooting guns and womanizing, and Solaar does explore heritage, culture and religion with more thought than the image-conscious gangsta.
Yet he is prone to exploitative tales about violence (as on the story of star-crossed lovers, “La Belle et le Bad Boy”), and he’s also given to braggadocio (as on his manifesto, “Leve-Toi et Rap”). It comes across well in French, a language suited to wrapping around the low-slung grooves, but in the one instance Solaar provides an English version of a song (“Solaar Weeps”), he sounds clunky.
Of course, OutKast would probably sound awkward if they gave French a whirl.
Considering the non-English-speaking world has always been forced to adapt to untranslated, all-English releases from British and American acts, it only seems fair that “Cinquieme As” is the way it is. However, the reality is that despite MC Solaar’s slick vocals and the polished instrumentation, his release simply won’t fly in the United States.
Rating: 3
“Van Wilder” Soundtrack various acts
They were on the right track for a while.
The soundtrack for “Van Wilder” is a 10-cut burst of jaunty rock energy that collapses into an album-ending streak of misfit songs.
The quality of that initial batch of songs varies from the catchy sing-along of The Living End’s anthemic “Roll On” and David Mead’s quirky/kicky “Girl on the Roof” to American Hi-Fi’s sneering haze “I’m a Fool” and 6Gig’s anonymous “Hit the Ground.” But the important thing is, all of these songs belong together – testosterone-fueled feisty rock tracks that also include Sugarcult’s defiant “Bouncing off the Walls” and Sum 41’s galloping “Makes No Difference.”
The compilation is both disposable and forgettable, yet at least it’s consistent until Fuzz Townshend’s incomprehensibly loose and impromptu-feeling “At Auntie Tom’s” wanders into the spotlight with no sense of purpose.
Even more jarring is Sia’s “Little Man,” a feminine slice of R&B that is completely out of place here. The soundtrack wraps with Abandoned Pools’ mopey “Start Over,” which should be considered an invitation to take the collection back to Track No. 1, never again to venture beyond the first 10 songs.
Rating: 3
(Chuck Campbell is the entertainment editor at the News-Sentinel in Knoxville, Tenn.)
(Contact Chuck Campbell of The Knoxville News-Sentinel in Tennessee at http://www.knoxnews.com.)