There are no simple truths here. There is just a millionaire recording artist with time on his hands, recording songs that he enjoys singing.
All of these songs were ubiquitous. They were in the Top 10 of the US charts. They permeated the culture and colored everyone’s life.
If Nicki Minaj wasn’t appearing to simultaneously appeal to primary school children and your lap dance-loving dad, she could be a role model for rebellion with her penchant for swearing like her breath depended on it. She sounds hardcore. She looks I-Don’t-Even-Wanna-Know-What-Core.
He won’t win, of course. He’s not third rate enough.
There is snow, and there are words. This lengthy, seven-track record, successor to this year’s deck-clearing Director’s Cut, is an album that loves language every bit as much as it loves snow; you can feel delight soaking through the syllables.
You ratchet up the intensity with breakbeat and raver music. This is absinthe and lemonade.