When I consider my favorite songs of 2007, I have to give a certain nod to “International Players Anthem,” the UGK (featuring Outkast) track that lit up my stereo this summer. You see, I’m not a huge connoisseur of pop music, so I largely rely on suggestions and recommendations and that moment when you accidentally tune to a top 40 radio station and hear a near-perfect hook. It was this sort of misdial that brought me to “International Players Anthem,” but I wasn’t caught by the hook so much as the massive lyrical disparity in the song.
Play the video below and listen to Andre 3000’s intro (which kicks in after the opening conversation… and, I’m digressing, but has anyone researched the origin of the “skit” in hip-hop records and videos?), which really highlights his strengths as an emcee. I’ve done my best to transcribe the verse, but you really need to listen to appreciate Andre’s delivery:
So, I typed a text to a girl I used to see
Sayin’ that I chose this cutie pie with whom I wanna be
And I apologize if this message gets you down
Then I CC’d every girl that I’d see see round town and
I hate to see y’all frown but I’d rather see her smiling
Wetness all around me, true, but I’m no island
Peninsula maybe, makes no sense I know, crazy
Give up all this pussy cat that’s in my lap no lookin back
Spaceships don’t come equipped with rearview mirrors
They dip as quick as they can
The atmosphere is now ripped
I’m so like a Pip, I’m glad it’s night
So the light from the sun would not burn me on my bum
When I shoot the moon high jump the broom
Like a premie out the womb
My partner yellin’ “Too soon! Don’t do it! Reconsider!
Read some litera – ture on the subject
You sure? Fuck it
You know we got your back like chiroprac – tic
If that bitch do you dirty
we’ll wipe her ass out as in detergent
Now hurry hurry, go on to the altar
I know you ain’t a pimp but pimp remember what I taught ya
Keep your heart three stacks, keep your heart
There’s so much to dig here: CC’d coupled with see see, “premie out the womb,” “glad it’s night” which = Gladys Knight, the way he verbally breaks chiroprac – tic and litera – ture, the complex use of internal and end rhyme… I could go on. But, from a strictly linguistic and poetic sense, this is one of the most dexterous and inventive rhymes I’ve heard in a while.
Andre, however, owes a particular debt to Pimp C, because when the “UGK” section of the song kicks in, it’s all hip-hop cliches and unimaginative rhymes set to a weak beat.
By bitch a choosey lover, never fuck without a rubber
Never in the sheets, like it on top of the covers
Money on the dresser, drive a compressor
Top notch hos get the most, not the lesser
trash like the fuck for 40 dollars in the club
fucking up the game, bitch you gets no love
She be cross country givin’ all that she got
A thousand a pop, Im pullin’ Bentleys off the lot
I smashed up the grey one, bought me a red
Every time we hit the parking lot we turn heads
Some hoes wanna choose but them bitches too scary
Your bitch chose me, you ain’t a pimp, you a fairy
I can point to the AABBCC etc rhyme scheme, or maybe that the most imaginative offering here is coupling most against lesser. Yeah, pretty paltry. But, again, what this does is paint Andre as a much more imaginative and realized emcee.
Now, in the interest of additional comparisons, I’d like to list some of Outkast’s most recognized hits:
“Hey Ya,” “Miss Jackson,” “So Fresh, So Clean,” “Rosa Parks,” “B.O.B.,” “The Whole World,” “Elevators (Me and You),” “ATLiens” … I could go on. And I know Outkast get consistently labeled as hip-hop for white boys, but let’s put that bullshit aside for a moment. In the world of pop music and major label hip-hop, Outkast have made some serious strides as a group—as the above singles attest. And though I’m using Andre 3000’s “Players Anthem” verse as an example, I could just as easily pull random stanzas from any given Outkast record to illustrate my point.
And my point is this: Whether opening doors for other emcees or just redefining the way hip-hop sounds today, I’d put Outkast on a level with Timbaland/Missy Elliott, Jay-Z, Nas, and the Wu-Tang as artists who have clearly changed the art via radio, MTV, and other conventional avenues of distribution.
Now, as a point of contrast, let’s take a look at Andre (3000) Benajmin’s filmography as an actor: Idlewild, Revolver, Be Cool, and Hollywood Homicide. He also has two films in post-production. Now, however great you think these films might be (they aren’t), I don’t think there’s any way to argue that they compare to Andre’s musical output. And I think you could also easily argue that Idlewild would’ve been a much stronger record if Outkast could’ve focused on it as a record… and not as an intertwined soundtrack.
So my question becomes this: Why do so many contemporary pop musicians feel the need to dabble in other mediums… particularly film? Sure, Elvis did it, and the Beatles did it, but those films were mostly marketing vehicles for their music. Where did we find the concept of musician as a capable actor? Is this another product of our celebrity culture? Or is it simply another example of American narcissism and the contemporary pop artist’s need for maximum recognition and exposure?
Better yet, how much great art have these mediocre performances cost us? Trust me, I’ll listen to the first verse of “International Players Anthem” many more times than I’ll watch even two minutes of Be Cool or Idlewild.
And maybe this comes down to selfish desire, but I need artists like Andre 3000 to put maximum effort into pop music, to steer the music industry away from its continued obsession with Bentleys and bitches. While hip-hop once had so much to say about disparity in American culture, it’s now mired in cliche… and, honestly, isn’t there a serious problem when our generation’s most powerful and inventive form of social commentary seems content with rehashing the same talking points? And did I just find a link between the problems with our political system and the problems with our popular culture? Damn.
I often suggest songs or records to friends, and I often offer a “three listen” clause: play the song three times, and I promise you’ll dig it. However, I don’t think “International Players Anthem” needs even two listens: the hook hits hard on the first spin. But so does that cringe-worthy moment between the intro and the first verse, when the beat kicks in and reminds us that hip-hop, like so many of our contemporary art forms, could really do so much more.
