Album Review: Soulja Boy – iSouljaboytellem

January 3, 2009

Photoshop hell yeah.

Concept: Soulja Boy turns on a preset keyboard beat and tells people to give him money. Millions respond in hysterical obedience.

Sound: Start with a little story, a little guitar, a scratch, something that sounds like it’s going somewhere, something to distinguish the tracks from each other, and then duhbuhduhbuhduhbuhduhbuhduhbuhduhhhhhhh.

Lyrics: See Soulja Boy. See Soulja Boy swag. Swag, Soulja Boy, swag! You can’t do it like I have done it, man, why would you hate me, man, you are lame, man, swag, man, Gucci©, money, Soulja Boy, man, Soulja Boy, swag swag why you hate swag man money what.

Quick And Dirty: Literally any normal adult could have pulled this album out of their butt in a week. It is not just the album, but the fact that it sells, the fact that it is an object of international observation and even interest. Rolling Stone gave it two stars — that’s two stars more than zero. It is worse than a high school rock band. It is worse than a T.V. celebrity’s pity record deal. It is worse than Limp Bizkit. It is worse than GG Allin. It is worse than an instructional music video for new Perkins employees. Every time a song from this album plays, the spirits of Bach, Beethoven, Bo Diddley, and Om Kalthoum collapse in each other’s spirit arms like spirit children and cry tears of spirit blood. DeAndre Ramone Way represents the cumulative smug and willful idiocy of nearly an entire century of algorithmic pop music production, and the nadir of all music ever. (Zero)

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