Saturday, November 11, 2006
Clintster vs. K-Fed
I’m sure by now you’ve heard about it. The Election Day shocker that had people questioning their faith in our nation, our Constitution, and the existence of an ever-loving God.
Democrats winning Congress? Pshaw! I’m talking ‘bout Britney filing for divorce against K-Fed!
In a one year span of time, Britney Spears went from being a pop princess going steady with Justin Timberlake (who knew he’d be the better end of that relationship?) to a quickie marriage to her high school bud Jason Alexander to marrying a backup dancer with stars in his eyes and money on his mind.
When I heard that Britney had decided to divorce K-Fed, I decided to seek a little insight into the world of this Fresno “king of the world”, so I got a hold of his debut album, Playing With Fire. I had heard his first single at the first of the year, so I wasn’t expecting a magnum opus on a par with Enter The 36 Chambers or even To The Extreme, but I was hoping to at least get some campy, William Shatner’s The Transformed Man value out of it.
No such luck.
We start with the Intro, which starts with a plethora of kids’ voices, which fade into one tyke asking the “musical” question, “Grandpa, can you tell us a story about when you were young?” It’s pretty obvious that Grandpa is K-Fed, although we’re not sure of where these grandchildren come from. Are they Britney’s or are they Shar Jackson’s (the woman that Kevvy left pregnant to run off with Ms. Spears. My guess is this is the progeny of the offspring of the next superstar that K-Fed is able to mooch from; let’s call the rugrat “Firecrotch Lohan-Federline”.
Sadly, the first 15 seconds of this track are the most entertaining of the entire album, as we dissolve into a babbling montage of faked news reports talking about the troubled marriage of Mr. and Mrs. Federline. Good thing they were able to put those scurrilous rumors to rest, eh?
The rest of the album just goes downhill from there. Basically, Kevin’s songs can be broken down into four themes:
• I’m so rich and popular that everybody flocks to me when I go to the clubs.
• All those hatin’ haters hate me ‘cause I’m so rich and popular, yo.
• Y’all just jealous ‘cause I married Britney Spears, but we’re gonna be together forever, no matter what you say.
• If I wasn’t so high off this primo weed right now, I’d whup all y’all ass.
He usually puts at least two of these concepts into every song, sometimes combining all of them into one verse. K-Fed also manages to slip the sound of someone inhaling everybody’s favorite herb at least once in every song. That was cool as hell back when Dr. Dre made The Chronic. In 1992. Now, it’s almost as cliché as the “yo man, you comin’ to the club?” interludes that also pepper the album.
By the third track, “America’s Most Hated”, it’s pretty evident that Kevin Federline is nothing but a wannabe trying too hard to fit in with the hip-hop artists he gets stoned to. The album is unimaginative, painfully lame, and not worth playing more than once, even for camp value.
The only satisfaction the listener might receive from Playing With Fire is the sense of Schadenfreude in his now painfully dated boasts of the solidity of his marriage to Britney Spears. One rhyme, on his single “Lose Control” says:
I’m a superstar
And I married a superstar
Can’t never come between us
No matter who ya are
I guess it’s technically true, since it was Brit herself who sent the text message to Kevin letting him know his marital services were no longer required.
Oh, and just in case you were curious, here are a few more nuggets of wisdom from PWF:
• He’s hotter than a pizza oven.
• “Dudes hate K-Fed. Girls love K-Fed. It doesn’t matter to me ‘cause K-Fed stay fed”
• He compares himself to Tupac at one point. Yes. He went there.
• He’s comin’ out like Janet’s boob at the Super Bowl. At least hers was talented.
• He loves pancakes.
I kid you not. Kevin mentions “pancakes” about 7 or 8 times on this album. At least we know what to give him when he has the munchies, but just when you think he’s done rapping about them, he brings them up again. Insert your own IHOP joke here.
This was truly painful. 98% of the time I had a look on my face that I can only describe as “incredulous.” At one point, he brags that he has $50 million, so he can rap about whatever he wants. Proof positive that money can buy lots of things, but talent and respectability are not two of them.