As you can tell, it’s another exciting evening of show preparation here at the Estate. If you listen close, you can hear me playing the Kool and the Gang in the background.
Actually, it would be Bubba Sparxxx tonight. Bubba’s the oddest of cases. You’d think white folks would love another white rapper, right? Not this one, jack. All the people I know that hate Bubba are white. Yet they like the Black-Eyed Peas. I swear, I’ll never understand this race shit.
Anyway, Deliverance might be the most underrated album of this millennium (way up with it is Ray Cash’s “Cash on Delivery”). Love it to death so, even though it’s really morose, I decided to bump it tonight. Something hit me about the record.
There are no skits.
Thank goodness.
Straight up — there were a lot of great skits. Wyclef was the master, giving unequivocal classics on “The Score” and the entire series of ’em on “The Carnival.” I could name a million of them (and may do a 25 list at some point).
But then, cats got a little out of hand. For an industry where being taken, shall we say, seriously is such a big deal, a whole bunch of dudes tried to be funny. Felt the need, in fact. It was kinda incongruous in most cases. And, often, the skits sucked.
That would be so bad if there were three or four of them per album.
But I can cruise through this here record and just hear songs. That’s pretty much SOP at this point. For some reason, skits went away and nobody really talked about it. Or, if they didn’t they didn’t talk about it with me, which would leave me feeling pretty left out. That’s not cool, hypothetically.
For some reason, that just crossed my mind.