Alyssa Rosenberg was kind enough to invite me to guest-blog this week over at her eponymously titled site. Because I’m interested in world domination, grateful for the opportunity and a glutton for punishment, I accepted her offer.
My first post just went up over there, where I attempt to digest and contextualize the disaster that was Jay-Z’s set on “Saturday Night Live.” Here’s a sample:
I truly can’t fathom Jay-Z recording this song in a studio somewhere, listening to the finished product and thinking that, ‘hey, that’s actually alright.” Let alone, “wow, that could be a hit!”
I don’t care that he dedicated the performance to “the most incredible Betty White”: Jay-Z was bad, Mr. Hudson was worse, and the song itself is prom night-quality pablum.
And of course, I never saw this coming.
If Jigga was alive, he never would have allowed that song to happen. Can you imagine Shawn Carter giving the thumbs-up to “Young Forever”? Blueprint-era Hov would have laughed that track out of his studio session.
But not anymore. And that’s when you know it’s near the end for your favorite artists.
Try to bear with me. Read the post in full. Comment over there and then back over here, if you’re so moved.
And of course, this is the lead-in for my eventual full-throated defense of Beyonce and her substantial talent in the face of the peanut gallery. You’ve been warned, home skillet.