F2K10 is a countdown of the 20 worst songs of 2010. Track our progress here.
Lil Wayne’s rock album was as “eagerly anticipated” as tax season, a divorce court hearing, or the icy embrace of death itself. Watching the gifted rhymer aimlessly dick around with a guitar was like watching Picasso toss his brush in a dumpster and say, “You know, painting’s cool and all, but I’d really just like to build model ships.” To anyone who’s ever seen someone hold a guitar pick, watching Lil Wayne rock was as awkward as watching Joe Biden kick a freestyle. Ultimately, the “greatest rapper alive” deaded his inhuman momentum by making his own audience-alienating Metal Machine Music—though the formless squealing on MMR is definitely closer to a working definition of “music” than Rebirth, a funkless, Aquanet Autotune gargle session that Universal didn’t have the good sense to lose behind a filing cabinet. The only way Wayne could have fucked his career up worse is if he went to jail. Oh, right…
In my January review for the Voice, I said that “Wayne’s stiff, glossy glam-funk sounds like it crawled out of that long-forgotten, pre-Nirvana hole where shaggy-haired, party-ball-suckin’ Headbangers Ballers started experimenting with groove-related scamboogery and psychfunkapussery—think White Trash, Scatterbrain, Mind Funk, or Extreme’s ‘Get the Funk Out.'” All of which sounded pretty articulate since Harvilla was kind enough to edit out the blocks of random text-gibberish from when I barfed on my computer and then punched it. Like how unlistenable does your album have to be when the high point is a Nicki Minaj cameo? I think the guys in Wolf Eyes might want to schedule a business lunch.
Of all of Rebirth‘s torn-jeans and blacklight poster low points, the Ugliest of all his Kid Joes is “Paradice,” a mawkish soft-metal opus straight from the White Lion playbook. It was co-produced by Kevin Rudolf, who is an adult man who dresses like this. His solution for everything seems to be “add more AutoTune” to the point where I’m not even sure whether Lil Wayne actually showed up for this session or whether Universal’s R&D department just imagineered some whiny robot to do his emo bidding. Finally we know what Poison’s “Fallen Angel” would have sounded like if Bret Michaels screeched “bullshit” through the T-Pain iPhone app.
This article from the Village Voice Archive was posted on December 3, 2010