What the hell is wrong with Pitchfork?
Pitchfork has really jumped the shark in the past year or so. Why do they waste their time to write a track review of a Paris Hilton song. They give it one and a half stars which in itself is retarded. Why give it any stars. You know it's going to be trash. I guess they are just trying to draw in a different crowd to their flash ad infested website. And this isn't an isolated incident with the Paris Hilton song.
Another example is their new love affair with Lil Wayne of all people. Here is what they have say about his 2005 effort Tha Carter II:
Wayne dabbles scatological throughout ("Dear Mr. Toilet/ I'm the shit"), sometimes even elaborately so ("You niggas small bubbles, I burp you/ I'll spit you out and have your girls slurp you")
What the hell are they smoking? They should seriously think about setting the pipe down and checking themselves into a clinic. They must have put an ad into the bubble gum pages looking for a new reviewer because of stuff like this. Again another review of trite pop bullshit and they give it one star. What is the point of this? On the same page they review a song by Rick Ross and give it three and a half stars. But you know that's a load of crap when you read the description.
Contrary to hater-instincts, we here at Pitchforkmedia Inc. don't get righteous boners every time a rapper mentions cocaine in a song (Lil Wayne excepted)
I just don't understand this infatuation with Lil Wayne. They need to hire some new Hip Hop reviewers that have a clue. But even if they are falling off they are still on top of a lot of good happenings in music. So I'll continue to visit until they start giving Paris Hilton songs three stars
Pitchfork like what
This is where Claytron and myself differ. Obviously Claytron's mechanical brain cannot handle the lyrical mastery that Lil Wayne offers. While this blog entry inspires me to write a letter to pitchfork to change Paris Hilton's previous rating to at least three stars because of her previous work in home porn and a smoking body to boot. Now that's marketing baby! And don't even get me started on Rick Ross. Everyday he's hustlin'! When a rapper's lyrics about cocaine gave me, the listener, a nosebleed I couldn't believe how much realness was allowed to be put on one CD. So move over Ghostface and Rae. Take me to the Port of Miami. There are new drug dealers in the hizzzeeee and finally a magazine like pitchfork acknowledges it too. Peace and don't let your meatloaf.