Ahhh, summer. It’s the season that most people look forward to. School’s finished, it’s warm out, and the beach is open (not that it ever closes, but it’s cold as fuck any other time). Usually, I find myself working for what seems like an eternity in Southampton. I know what you’re thinking “Whoa is me. You’re in Southampton! That must be soooooo awesome!” Right? No, it’s not sooooooo awesome. It suuuuucks. I do irrigation. Ya know, lawn sprinklers. Yes, as in the thing that automatically waters your grass. That’s my doing. Anyway, my days usually consist of digging with a Hispanic fellow while I watch people enjoy themselves. Some people are surprisingly nice, but most people, if they acknowledge your existence at all, will be assholes. It never ceases to amaze me how much rich folk detest the people that make their property look amazing. I digress. The point is that summer also brings about a slew of new “songs of the season.” When I drive around, the radio stations consist of classic rock, “Spanish people music,” classical music, and 3 stations with the EXACT same format (Top 40). Interestingly enough, one of the stations maintains that “no one else brings you the hottest hits,” yet these three play the same songs. Why would you go and make a claim like that? IT’S TOP 40!!! As in the 40 MOST POPULAR songs these days. Of course someone else is going to be playing these songs. That’s like saying “no one else brings you cars but Ford.”
Anyway, I usually listen to the classic rock station, but I can only listen to “Sweet Child of Mine” and “More Than a Feeling” so many times. So I also bounce around the Top 40 stations. Some of the songs, I admit, are catchy. That “Sexy Can I” song? Pretty decent. “I kissed a girl?” Awesome. And Kanye also shows up, which always feels like the time when your older brother came back from college and brought you stuff he couldn’t show to your parents. HOWEVER, some of these songs are just straight-up puzzling to me. Below I’ve taken the liberty of outlining some of the confusion.
Usher ft. Young Jeezy – Let’s Make Love in The Club
Now I understand that these days, you can make anything sound awesome so long as it has a nice beat behind it. Domestic abuse, infidelity, anything. But Usher jumps it up a notch. Not only does he want to get you shitfaced and then fuck you, he wants to fuck you in the middle of a (I’m assuming crowded) club. Don’t worry, he’ll make sure you’ve got plenty of drinks in you so that you throw all inhibition to the wind and have no qualms about giving it up while your best friends watch. I get that dancing these days can be pretty sexual, but if someone was literally fucking in a club while I’m trying to enjoy myself, I’d get pretty upset. It’s ok though, because Usher doesn’t care who’s watching, which says either of two things: you’re hot and he’s showing you off, or you’re ugly but he doesn’t care because he’s currently fulfilling a lifelong dream with someone who has no self-respect. And by the way, there’s no making of love in there. There’s no way that any of that “two souls becoming one” bullshit is going on. There’s only one thing that could be going on: Drunken sex (maybe drugged up sex). And if she’s so willing to rail in the club, that could lead to a bigger issue: the clap.
I wanna sexually violate you in this club…in this club
So Leona Lewis has apparently found love. But uh oh, her friends are filling her with all sorts of doubt. I mean, she was closed off from the world of love, but this guy just HAPPENED to stick his head in and melt her frozen heart. It sounds cliché, right? But then Leona goes ahead and pushes the envelope on this guy. She starts bleeding love. Better yet, this asshole cuts her open. If the girl that I loved tried cutting me open, I wouldn’t write a song. I’d call the police. And I sure as hell wouldn’t be bleeding love. I be bleeding…blood. Because that’s what people do. No wonder people try to “fill her with doubt.” That’s because Patrick Bateman over here just cut you open and your heart is now crippling. This also begs another question: Why the fuck doesn’t anyone call for help? This girl’s heart is failing and she has a giant gash across her chest. O yea, and she’s bleeding “love” profusely. This is girl is about to die, and no one is prepared to do anything about it. Nothing says love like “I’ll let you kill me.”
Notice the picture doesn’t capture anything that would be “bleeding love”
Sean Kingston – Take You There
In case you have never heard that voice scream his name right before EVERY one of his songs begins, Sean Kingston is a Jamaican “reggae” artist. For the record, I didn’t realize that reggae stopped being about steel drums and chilling and started being about sampling “Stand By Me” or Led Zeppelin. That’s like NASCAR suddenly rejecting its redneck fanbase and opting for a more white collar approach. Anyway, this crazy little bastard who somewhat resembles the fat kid from the Nutty Professor is responsible for the Summer 2007 gem “Beautiful Girls.” This time, he’s offering a lucky girl a trip with him, and that trip is in her hands. It’s either: a trip to the tropics, featuring the beach and piña coladas, or the slums, where people are in the middle of dying. I ask you…who the fuck isn’t choosing the first one? Who’s sitting there being like “paradise sounds enticing, but I think I’d rather watch a motherfucker get hanged!” Why is there a song based around this decision? He insists that he knows the area, and if you stay by his side, you won’t get harmed. However, he also mentions that there’s 15 year-old kids with guns riding around. So either he’s also packin’ or your sorry ass is getting shot. Doesn’t sound too safe to me. No thanks, Sean. If she does choose to go with you to the mean streets of Jamaica, take a look at Paradise. I’ll be the guy passed out on the beach laughing his ass off with alcohol in hand while you two are running from gunfire.
I’m gonna be responsible for you getting shot!
New Kids on the Block – Summertime
This is probably the most confusing song of the summer. Well, the song itself is pretty catchy. But then we remember that it’s New Kids on the Block singing it…15 years later. I have no problem with the content of the song, but the fact that men who will soon be consistently taking Enzyte are singing this song worries me. This isn’t Music & Lyrics. We’re not dealing with Hugh Grant here (if it was, this wouldn’t be an issue). I don’t care if it’s Mark Wahlberg’s brother. It’s not Mark Wahlberg. Donnie, was Saw 2 really that bad for you? Did Annapolis leave a bad taste in your mouth? I’m not even going to pretend that you enjoyed your time as the crazy guy stand in Bruce Willis’ bathroom in the Sixth Sense. But has your movie career bothered you so much that you had to rehash old flings in the summertime? I mean, we all know that the other 4 have certainly run out of money by now and will do anything to get out of the dumpster. I can tell you, boys, that if she does remember, and wants to do it again, she’s bringing the kids in the minivan down to the beach for it. And don’t forget, you guys have kids too. So you have to watch after your little ones. Try grinding against mommy while all those kids wanna build a sand castle and subsequently annoy the hell out of you. Or you could just try for a new girl…and get arrested. And then you will have to go door-to-door saying “I think about your daughter in the summertime…and I’m a sexual predator.”
I think about YOU in the summertime
