the urbanguy chronicles

It’s the humiliation of it all that keeps you going, don’t you know. That niggling sense of, “This could be the one!” that drives you to the shower, makes you use the expensive body wash that mother always gets you at Christmas. It’s the sheer baldness of routine, the rote sense that you should be in a higher station in life that makes you shave your nether region for this very occasion.

She sounded okay on the phone but that too is deceiving. Voice and visage rarely align, all too often falling prey to off-kilter machinations that make you realize just why justice is blind. But there is simply no justice in meeting someone that you’ve only previously seen in pixels.

The Funky Snob™ was feeling sorry for himself y’all. Hey it happens.

Sensing yo boys’ predicament, some Norman Connors and Jean Carne swooped in on the iPod random with the quickness.

Lush instrumentation, relevant lyrics…a Snob can dig it.

It upped the mood from world-weary to reflective…introspective even.

Charlie Wilson doesn’t get the props that he should for holding it down for so long and influencing today’s R&B.

His latest, Uncle Charlie, will probably stay under the radar but does have a couple of cool joints such as this one (written, incidentally, by Babyface and Calvin Richardson).

Props go to Snoop as well for continuing to show Charlie some love.

It’s been a full week since Michael Jackson passed on and I still can’t believe it. Usually when I hear about a celebrity dying, my reaction is nowhere near as it was when I heard this news.

Dude was only 50…I shouldn’t have been hearing this for at least another 20-30 years.

This honestly feels like a relative passing…it’s a truly strange feeling. Everything that could be said has already been written (and arguably more eloquently), but for me he was a supremely talented individual who stands as a tragic genius, a symbol of the transformative power of music…that and the fact that we typically don’t appreciate something ( or someone) until it’s gone.

It’s weird that listening to his music now adds a richer context, a deeper sense of meaning…a growing realization that we will likely never witness someone so musically talented in our lifetime. His achievements will likely never be topped, and the chance of an individual so thoroughly dominating and captivating the music culture consciousness will never be duplicated.

For me, the favourite MJ songs are the underrated ones, the ones that you probably won’t hear in any mainstream tribute. This list is by no means definitive (or in any particular order), but here is five of my  beloved and underrated Michael Jackson tracks:

Heaven can wait: 2001′s Invincible was vastly underrated. Poorly promoted (MJ was in the throes of a huge public/media backlash) Heaven Can Wait is a testament to the fact that even through he was prone to screaming his vocals rather than singing at this point in his career, he could still throw down when he wanted to. Great lyrics, fab production (check out that amazing bridge where his vocals get progressively stronger before it climaxes). Great track.

Butterflies: If you’ve heard Floetry’s demo version of this, you greatly appreciated Michael’s uncanny knack for making any song his own. Another one off the Invincible album, Floetry’s version is good but MJ’s emoting on this joint makes the song for me. Just a great song.

Happy: “Suspended between time and space…” Love, love this song that people not many people have heard from the Music & Me LP. Listen to that classic 1970s orchestral sound…haunting and beautiful at the same time. If you don’t smile while listening to this track, something is seriously wrong with you.

Get on the floor – This track from the seminal Off the Wall just could have easily been a single. Off the Wall was Jackson’s groundbreaking LP but that are more a  couple of tracks that should have been more popular. This is one of them for sure. Just a damn cool funky disco groove…sounds like a song that would have been played early to get the party started.

Morning glow: Michael transforms a sappy track from a 1972 Broadway musical into a hidden gem of a song. Even if you don’t know who Pippin (son of Charlemagne) is, you know that Mike sings the hell out of this song.  Off his Music & Me solo album, the vocal control and range for someone so young is magical. Even the backstory (Pippin is a young princely lad looking for something to make his life worth living for) is vividly ironic.

Thanks for the great music Michael.

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Not a huge fan of Jay-Z but this song is, in the words of Borat, vera niice.

Classy, post-modern headnod hip-hop over here…

Asian dude sits at the end of the subway car, casually and deftly twirling a butter knife in one hand.

White woman next to him stares intently. Impressed.

Her curiosity overcomes her and she points and inquires about his skill. Receptive, mutual smiles and and a friendly (and likely awkwardly cultural) discussion ensues that lasts the rest of my trip.

Me? I’m sitting several seats away, bumping some LTD featuring Jeffrey Osborne.

Concentrate on You.

I crick my neck to hear this conversation. Too loud – the dissonant sounds of a rickety-crickety subway car and ineffectual commuter chatter drown out my desired aural destination.

I would have gladly paid a few bucks to eavesdrop on that convo

Up until a few days ago, I didn’t even know this song existed.

Lack of push and/or marketing? No doubt.

That said, not feeling this song. At all. The Funky Snob says you’d think these two artists (great on their own) could put together a more satisfying effort than this middling and perfunctory duet.

EDIT: It’s the hook that bothers the Funky Snob. The verses have a nice flow but the hook is just too cornball.

Another video so soon? Cool.

But heavy on the CGI a la the previous joint? Really?

Although the garish CGI suits this song so much better..its still a bit too literal. I like some subtext in my videos please. Still like the song though.

It doesn’t matter how matter times I’ve taken the train…I still get a nervous feeling standing at the platform as the metal snake slithers into the station.

So I naturally take a step back. I look about to see if anyone’s set to shove me into the abyss.

They say at least one person lands on the tracks each week….I wonder how many incidents aren’t publicly reported. As it stands, I’m content to have my back up against the wall.

Trust and inches reside in the space between me and oblivion.

This is good stuff. Superheroics, pulp-fiction style.

Phillip’s art is pretty (per usual) and Brubaker’s prose is gritty noir that doesn’t dip into parody. Check it out.