Now, usually we don’t do this, but it’s the freakin’ Valentine’s Day weekend, so go ahead and run your hands through the GloNo ‘fro.
Washington DC still buzzes with the hubbub (hubboob?) over Janet and Justin’s winking wardrobe malfunction act. Inside a stuffy congressional conference room, uptight white people out-moralize each other with high horse personal vignettes about the obliteration of their Norman Rockwell home lives by the pure evil prurience of Viacom’s boob tube. Self-righteous Neocons are convinced of a homosexual cabal, coming like scud in un-bloused work boots to ensnare the sanctity of marriage in a net made from mesh tank tops. And somewhere, in a church basement adorned with misguided renderings of a good looking blue-eyed Jesus, a modern-day Carry Nation gathers her army of teetotalers, prepared to wage a war on fun.
Where’s the love y’all?
Last year around this time, Glorious Noise wondered whether 2003 would be the year junk broke. And well, it didn’t. The Hedgehog’s still hanging with Tammy Faye on the WB, and sex tapes have become official currency for obtainment of celebrity. But all this Puritanical sputtering is pretty puzzling, because from the view out Jake Brown’s corner office window, GloNo can see that the bad stuff has largely stayed in its digitized holding pattern. The tease is still the real money shot in 2004, and that makes Valentine’s Day safe for the USA leather jacket’d couple shopping at Wal-Mart for Precious Moments, right?
Well, as Dave Chappelle would say, “Wrong, bitches!”
“Fuck what I said, it don’t mean shit now / Fuck the presents might as well throw ’em out / Fuck all those kisses / They didn’t mean jack / Fuck you, you ho / I don’t want you back”
After twelve weeks on Billboard’s Hot 100, “Fuck It (I Don’t Want You Back)” (listen to the song here), Staten Island-based R&B guy Eamon’s sailor-mouthed kiss-off to his two-timing old lady, has climbed to #16 on the charts, winning “Greatest Gainer/Sales” honors in the latest chart posting. It fits into the current mainstream R&B trend toward sparer arrangements with increased vocal presence; indeed, Last summer Amanda Perez broke through with the slight urban lilt of “Angel,” while the hook to Baby Bash‘s more recent “Suga Suga” is a soothing, almost mournful loop of tasteful jazz guitar. “Fuck It” deconstructs the formula even further, reducing the instrumentation to a halting, clicking beat and a slowly building synth line. And then there are those lyrics, and Eamon’s nasally doo-wop warble. He sounds like a Frankie J impersonator singing over Biz Markie’s rejected backing tracks. Still, despite its lo-fi R&B plod, the strangest thing about “Fuck It” is how it sounds on the radio:
“F___ what I said, it don’t mean s___ now / F___ the presents might as well throw ’em out / F___ all those kisses / They didn’t mean jack / F___ you, you h_, I don’t want you back”
It’s Monday morning on I-295, and John Ashcroft spits steaming hot coffee all over his new suit.
“Fuck It (I Don’t Want You Back)” is novelty at best. It’s unlikely that additional singles from Eamon’s Jive debut – perhaps “I Love Them Ho’s (Ho-Wop),” or the emphatic “Get Off My Dick!” – will be able to sustain him. But amongst the recent clamor for purity, howabout giving the kid some love for even getting it on the radio? And amidst the pink satin and teddy bears of Valentine’s Day no less! The prurience meter in the GloNo breakroom is all out of wack, what with the Prez laying waste to legions of heathens with his flaming sword of sanctity. Who rules 2004? The prudes or the panty raiders? We’ll see. But in the meantime, we’ll take you out with a lovely Valentine inscription idea from Eamon himself.
“You thought you could keep this shit from me / You’re burned bitch / I heard the story / You played me / You even gave him head / Now you’re askin’ for me back / You’re just another hack…”