10
THURSDAY, MARCH 30, 2006
Brit rockers wish upon ‘Stars’
Pond-hoppers: the next big thing?
BY ORR SHTUHL
STAFF WRITER
Hard-Fi is the new Killers.
Before you fire up your hype
machines, consider this: The
Killers are nothing special.
But mediocrity is not what these
two bands share. Rather, Stars
of CCTV like Hot Fuss is a
punchy pop album with more hits
than B-sides and nary a weak song
in sight.
Since its U.K. release last sum
mer, the band’s debut album has
peaked at No. 1 on the British
charts and includes four Top-20
singles.
Of course, commercial success is
no substitute for quality.
But Stars is the real deal.
Washed-up rapper nets failing marks
California crunk attack gets stupid
BY SAM NEED
STAFF WRITER
Detention is in order for hip-hop
veteran E-40, who at the very least
deserv es academic probation for
his most recent album, My Ghetto
Report Card.
A West Coast mainstay notable
for inventing the “izzle” popularized
by Snoop Dogg, E-40 is a respected
veteran with a flair for inventive
linguistics. That’s what makes this
spectacular failure so surprising.
From embarrassingly immature
lyrics to beats that sound like they
were ripped from a Nintendo 64
to a sluggish flow stumbling on
overly active tracks, My Ghetto
Report Card leaves no potential for
cacophony unused.
Worse still, it highlights all of
the forces within mainstream hip
hop that continue to marginal
ize and alienate the genre on the
national stage.
The album goes from inauthen
tic gangster lyrics to unnecessary
misogyny to tired beats you could
have sworn you heard yesterday on
someone else’s track.
My Ghetto Report Card reads
less like a report card and more
like an ominous status report of all
of the things that neM to change
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Even at first listen, the record’s
opening six tracks emerge as obvi
ous singles.
Hot Fuss is hamstrung by lifeless
vocals and a persistent new-wave
sheen.
But in six songs Hard-Fi wears
as many styles, keeping things
dynamic and interesting.
“Cash Machine,” the album’s
lead track and breakthrough hit,
has a slithering Mediterranean
sound that contrasts with the
fast rock of its follow-up, “Middle
Eastern Holiday.”
“Tied Up Too Tight” stomps
along with dramatic strings. “Gotta
Reason” follows with an up-tempo
shot of taurine forget caffeine
in the vein of the Caesars’
if hip hop is to regain its former
relevance.
While a vibrant underground
hip-hop scene never fails to pulse
with dynamic energy, albums like
this from hip-hop “veterans” fail to
live up to the promise of the genre.
Instead of Atmosphere or Little
Brother, E-40 gets pushed as a rep
resentative of the craft, |nd with
tracks such as “Gimmie Head,”
expect more than one potential fan
to be turned off.
E-40 is pushing 40 years of age,
but his lyrics make him sound like
insecure and young. Songs such
as “Muscle Cars” would be more
appropriate in a Hot Wheels com
mercial than a hip-hop album,
while tracks such as “I’m da Man”
bring into question E-40’s self-con
fidence.
He does make an attempt at
a song with a conscience, but it
comes too little too late.
After 19 tracks that could have
been written by a pubescent 12-
year-old, E-40 finally attempts
some critical thinking with “Happy
to Be Here,” but by the time it
arrives, it rings completely false.
What’s worse, on the immature
tracks that make up the bulk of the
album, E-40’s flow is horrendous.
Diversions
“Jerk It Out” or even the Swingin’
Medallions’ “Double Shot (Of My
Baby’s Love).” (Look it up, you’ll
know it).
Then comes the sexy ABBA-style
disco of “Hard to Beat,” on the heels
of “Unnecessary Trouble,” soaked
in trombone ala “Dragnet”
Piano ballad “Move on Now” fol
lows, resurrecting the feel of The
Verve’s “Sonnet” while giving lis
teners a breather.
And the album’s hardly half
over.
Hard-Fi does fall prey to the
missteps of most chart-topping
Brit rock.
Lyrics fall short of memo
rable, especially when address
ing politics on “Middle Eastern
Holiday.”
But while The Killers and peers
stick to themes of dance-club love,
Watching the once vocally dex
terous emcee struggle to keep up
with the beats is uncomfortable,
like watching a current Rolling
Stones concert.
E-40’s style would better be
characterized as spoken word,
given his propensity to casually
stop rhyming in the middle of
verses.
When E-40’s flow is lacking,
one would expect his guests to
pick up the slack, but with the
exception of Mike Jones, all of E
-40’s cronies sound like asthmatic
fiends, delivering strained verses
that suggest they have as much
trouble breathing as they do rap
ping.
The unfortunate contributions
from UGK and Juelz Santana
should work perfectly with Lil Jon
production, but the it seems like
MOSICREVIEW
HARD-FI
STARS OF CCTV
Hard-Fi has a distinct working
class perspective.
Songs like “Feltham Is Singing
Out,” which is about a friend turn
ing to robbery to get out of debt,
give a bottom-up view of the South
England streets.
The coherence of the record’s
attitude provides a base for 11
potential hits, each one excelling
in a different direction.
For those with a penchant for
CD singles, Stars of CCTV would
be a worthy investment.
Contact the AHE Editor
at artsdesk@unc.edu.
NOSICREVIEW
E-40
MY GHETTO REPORT CARD
the artists haven’t studied enough
to pass the test.
And it couldn’t be worse, right?
Unfortunately, this review hasn’t
yet touched on the beats, mind
numbingly terrible efforts with
about as much crunk as a bottle of
Smirnoff Ice.
The production value is street
level at best tracks intended to
bump trunks instead sound like
they were recorded in trunks.
E-40’s first single, “Tell Me
When to Go,” sounds like it sam
ples “Donkey Kong,” while tracks
like “Go Hard or Go Home” would
be more appropriate as accompa
niments to “The Electric Slide.”
The only good beat on the
album, “U And Dat,” sounds
uncannily like Usher, but Usher’s
name is nowhere to found on the
album.
It’s emblematic of the album as
a whole that the only pleasurable
sound on it would be unfaithfully
stolen from another artist.
E-40 gets straight F’s.
Contact the ACSE Editor
at artsdesk@unc.edu.
Latest Lee joint
a box-office gem
BY WILLIAM FONVIELLE
STAFF WRITER
Spike Lee’s “Inside Man” is the
kind of movie that quote whores
dream about.
You know what a quote whore
is someone from a no-name
media outlet such as KGNU-FM
in Boulder, Colo., who, typically
in exchange for a gift bag from the
studio, supplies a juicy quote for
the newspaper and TV ads.
And with “Inside Man,” the pos
sibilities are endless.
“Spike Lee’s best film in a
decade.” “Denzel Washington oozes
movie-star cool.” “A taut, edge-of
your-seat thriller that crackles with
wit and intelligence.”
Shameless? You betcha.
But what makes the situation
so damning is that such lines are
actually true.
At one point in the movie a char
acter says, to paraphrase, “You’ve
seen ‘Dog Day Afternoon.’ You
know how this is gonna end.”
Indeed, writer Russell Gewirtz,
on a remarkably confident first
screenplay, knows our expectations
for a heist movie and plays to them,
producing a story that, although
not as much about character as
it is plot, at least puts both in the
same ballpark.
For the audience, that provides
a vantage into the action, and
although the story doesn’t demand
you to be an active participant, you
aren’t encouraged to simply sit
back and watch everything unfold
in front of you either.
Clive Owen, shielded behind
a mask for a large chunk of the
running time, serves as the mas
termind behind what he calls
“the perfect bank robbery,” with
Washington playing one of two
police negotiators and an atypi
cally snide Jodie Foster as an
extra hand brought in to protect
the secret interests of bank owner
Christopher Plummer.
You know you’ve got a crack
erjack cast when an appearance
by Willem Dafoe as an aggressive
captain barely warrants a men
tion.
The words “Spike Lee joint” are
typically a signal for gung-ho mes
sage pictures, films that are intel
ligent and thoughtful but don't
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MOVIEREVIEW
'INSIDE MAN'
exactly stun you with their editing
and camera work.
That direct a mainstream
Hollywood thriller a surprising
choice for Lee, being the sort for
whom style over substance is gen
erally considered blasphemous.
Lee proves himself to be quite
the adept genre director, though,
steering his ship with such an
unflagging pace that its plot holes
don’t even become apparent until
your.walk back through the park
ing lot.
Who knows maybe he
hopped on this project purely for
the money. But regardless of the
underlying motivation, he hasn’t
had this much fun behind the cam
era in ages.
This is a tight, sharp narrative
that exhibits none of the earmarks
of his recent overstuffed endeav
ors.
There’s a distinct difference
between selling out and going
mainstream, however, and Lee
still retains some elements that
mark his filmography while mak
ing them accessible to a wider
audience.
Searing elements of racial ten
sion, corrupt politics and power
struggles are bubbling just under
neath the surface, but Lee is in
complete command of his craft,
and he never allows this to over
shadow his heist story.
Critic Emanuel Levy made the
comparison to David Cronenberg’s
“A History of Violence,” and that
seems about right.
The ability to appeal to the
masses without losing what makes
you unique should be considered
artistic growth, not a cop-out
No, “Inside Man” marks new
and exciting ground for Spike
Lee, a fresh playing field that he
should feel unashamed to bat
on.
And for those studio folks who
care (read: no one), that’s The
Daily Tar Heel, four words.
iv. Contact theA&E Editor
,Nwv, rtv. at artsdesk@unc.edtL