The 50 Worst Songs of the ’00s, F2K No. 10: Fieldy’s Dreams, “Baby Hugh Hef”


F2K is a countdown of the 50 worst songs of the decade. Track our progress here.

Korn bassist shouldn’t quit his day job. No wait, he should do that too.

You know that nagging voice in your head you hear right before you post your totally insightful blog entry, or your 300 awesome photos from the show, or your hyped-out two-hour dubstep DJ mix or your totally spot-on five paragraph Yelp review? The voice that says, “Yes, my input is valid, but I have no illusions of my talent or worth.” That voice is called reality. Korn bassist Reginald “Fieldy Snuts” Arvizu lacks any concept of it whatsoever.

It’s got to be a magical feat of drooling dickhead science to make the most misguided rap album of the decade–and you have to remember that this decade featured rap albums from Kevin Federline, Bill Cosby, about 70 professional basketball players, and one from Steve-O considerately called The Dumbest Asshole In Hip Hop. But it’s Fieldy’s over-earnestness that makes his album the saddest of all, a blind confidence in what he assumes is limitless talent, the rap equivalent of the kid who breaks his neck jumping off the monkey bars because he thinks he can fly.

“Shit in a bag, set it on fire/Open your door, there’s a bag on fire”

You drove to a studio, paid someone money, got inside a booth, recorded that line, pressed it to a CD, handed it to a record label, and nobody told you it was anything but the second coming of Proust. Well, Fieldy, I think it’s about time you do an inventory on who your real friends are. And then leave a flaming bag of shit on their collective doorstep.

But I digress. Under the name Fieldy’s Dreams, Fieldy released his first and only rap album, Rock’N Roll Gangster. Opening track “Baby Hugh Hef” is misguided from the get-go, a drumbeat concocted from the clatter of pistols that can’t even shoot on beat. The first taste of Fieldy rapping is enough to turn you off rap, music and coherent thought for eternity:

100-spoke rims on my Benz
Black-on-black escalade Cadillac
’64 rag
A hundred girlfriends that I’ve already shagged

That’s right, “shagged.” Fieldy was totally the dude showing up to the Halloween party dressed like Austin Powers in 2002. Do you think Hugh Hefner considered suing for trademark infringement? You wouldn’t want anyone to confuse the suavest motherfucker who ever lived with a bumbling, sweaty walking nerve-boner tip-tapping on a bass pickup.

Baby Hugh Hef, that’s my name
Korn brings the porn and a little of the fame
Baby Hugh Hef, that’s my name
Fieldy’s got game so you better be warned
Baby Hugh Hef, will mack in the sack
Dr. Dreams got game, that’s my rep
Baby Hugh Hef, that’s my name
Fieldy’s Dreams… that’s part of my game

Argh! Fuck you! Fucking rapping Hamburglar in the McDonald’s commercial stopped rhyming “name” with “game” somewhere in 1987.

I’m like a kid in a candy store if everything was free
It’s a dirty job, but someone’s gotta do it

OK, I officially have no idea what this guy is talking about. I honestly think he threw a bunch of words in the air and some of them rhymed. Thankfully this was Fieldy’s last attempt at rapping in public. I hear he really wants to direct though.

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