Playing With Fire: A Review

[cosmo105]

sort of funny bloggish article being passed around about K-Fed's album. made me giggle.

http://www.bestweekever.tv/2006/10/31/running-diary-playing-with-fire/

Running Diary: Playing With Fire

In front of me I have a brand new, recently purchased, bright and shiny copy of Kevin Federline’s debut rap album Playing With Fire. The disc is 49:32 long, contains 13 listed tracks plus a bonus track titled “Middle Finger”, and it was all mine for the low low price of $13.99 at the local Virgin Megastore. Those are all facts and they cannot be argued.

This morning when I woke up I decided I was going to do something daring. I decided I was going to listen to Playing With Fire from beginning to end, no breaks, and keep a running diary throughout the entire thing. Co-workers called this decision “brave”, “terrifying”, and “absoutely f**king retarded.” I agree with them all. But I’m going to do it because somebody has to. And I’m going to do it with an open mind, too, because honestly; it can’t be that bad, can it? Can it? There’s only one way to find out. Wish me luck.

4:00:12 - “Grandpa, grandpa, can you tell me a story about what it was like when you were young?” That’s how it all begins, hinting that this album (or at least this song) actually comes FROM THE FUTURE! Deep! I’m crossing my fingers that music from the future doesn’t completely suck.

4:02:30 - So far in the first 2:30 I’ve learned a lot. I’ve learned that Kevin doesn’t give a f**k what we all think, the media tends to enjoy f**king with him and he has a f**king black gat in his backpack. Or a black cat. Either way, he’s dangerous. I think.


4:02:47 - K-Fed announces that Young Jeezy told him the world was his. So if this album turns out to be as bad as everybody says it is, I’m blaming it on Mr. Jeezy. He’s on notice.

4:05:31 - We’re into the third track now and K-fed just compared himself to a tsunami. Five minutes into the CD, I’ve enjoyed both equally.

4:06:12 - You know, I’m kind of liking the piano on this track. Honestly, I’ve heard worse. If the Beastie Boys released this track it’d be better than most of To The 5 Boroughs. Actually, that’s not saying much.

4:07:19 - We’re up to the fourth track, “Snap.” In case you haven’t been paying attention, He hates haters like the paparazzi. This one kind of sounds like Pharrell.

4:08:30 - Ok, this doesn’t just sound like a Neptunes track, it actually IS “Drop It Like It’s Hot.” I love that song, so by default I can tolerate this one. Believe it or not, we’re 4 tracks in and I still don’t want to kill myself (people have been placing bets on when that’s going to happen; the over/under is track 8.)

4:10:03 - K-Fed is hotter than a pizza oven. I just thought you should know.

4:11:10 - Oh s**t! Time for the first single! Lose Control! You know how sometimes when you get a new album you can’t resist the urge to skip over the tracks you don’t know so you can listen to the single. Yeah, that didn’t happen.

4:12:03 - Uh oh. I just had my first “I’m not enjoying this at all” moment. It was a flash, but it was real. “Lose Control” may be the song that makes me… lose control. Man, that K-Fed is prophetic.

4:13:10 - K-Fed announced that he’s “not here to brag.” But then he proceeded to say he’s worth more than my ‘budget’ and rides around in Ferraris. Somebody might have to explain to him what “bragging” is.

4:14:55 - Alright, track 6, “Dance With a Pimp.” Based on the title, this is the track I was most looking forward to.

4:15:30 - “Dudes hate K-Fed. Girls love K-Fed. It don’t matter to me because K-fed stay fed!” WOW! Hold the phone! Stop the presses! K-Fed just blew my F**KING MIND.

4:16:30 - My mind is still reeling from the “K-Fed/Stay fed” line. Kids, I’m begging you- if you’re in high school make this your senior quote. Seriously. I know you think your senior quote is supposed to be this big deep thing that defines your high school career, but it’s not. If you use this K-Fed line I guarantee you that 10 years from now everybody will remember you as the hilarious kid that ironically quoted K-Fed in the yearbook. I promise you. So please do it… make the K-Fed/Stay fed line your senior quote. For me.

4:17:38 - Alright, the thrill is over. His rapping is beginning to wear on me a little. Although I did learn that if Kevin is ever missing, Britney can either find him in VIP holding a blunt or where there’s “jumpin” at. So that’s good to know.

4:18:52 - It’s time for “Priveldge” featuring Bosko. The whole black guy/ white rapper “chocolate milk” joke is going to have to wait because I’m a little upset right now. I immediately recognized this song because it’s the one that he peformed on the Megan Mullally show this morning. i hate myself for knowing that, and I kind of hate my life right now.

4:19:41 - I just had that moment you get when you’re on the treadmill and you look down and realize you still have a half hour to go. This isn’t going to be easy.

4:20:05 - I just caught myself singing along. You know, if 50 was singing this song and if the beats hit a little harder and if the lyrics weren’t so stupid and if they didn’t have that annoying little guitar lick repeating over and over again in the background, i bet it’d be a huge hit. If.

4:22:45 - It’s time for “Crazy” featuring Britney Spears. “And they say I’m crazy for loving you for feeling you. And maybe I’m a little crazy but they don’t know all the things you do.” Am I the only one who doesn’t want to know?

4:24:31 - I’m pretty sure he just compared himself to Tupac. I’m going to pretend that didn’t happen.

4:26:10 - Track 9: “A League Of My Own. Turns out this isn’t about the movie starring Geena Davis and Rosie O’Donnell. I think it’s about how much money he has and how girls love him and how we shouldn’t judge him. You know, for a change.

4:27:45 - Alright, it’s happening. The initial amusement has worn off and I’m ready to agree with everybody else on the planet: This is bad. I’m shifting around in my chair and starting to get really tired.

4:29:00 - K-Fed just helped me understand why I’m not enjoying this by declaring that he’s on another level that we’ll never reach. Whew. For a minute I thought it was me.

4:30:52 - Ok, the title track is killing me. There are too many annoying things going on right now. I think there’s a lute, a synthesizer, drums, and Kevin’s rapping about pancakes again (note: I can’t believe I’ve gone a half hour without mentioning this- the man loves rapping about pancakes. Seriously. I hope it’s not a metaphor.)

4:32:48 - K-Fed is “coming out like Janet’s titty at the Superbowl.” Sadly, not like Lance Bass.

4:34:10 - I can’t do this anymore… i need a break.. oh, Thank God, it’s time for an interlude. That means 56 seconds of no rapping. Thank you lord. I don’t even care what they’re babbling about right now, it’s a welcome break.

4:35:23 - And he’s back. S**t.

4:39:00 - Okay, we’re almost there. Last track… then the bonus track.

4:39:50 - K-Fed makes another pancake mention. He must really be banking on an IHOP endorsement or something. If he says “pancakes” one more time I’m only eating eggs from now on.

4:40:10 - Okay, he just made me laugh out loud. As I was writing that last update he yelled “Pancakes Pancakes!” like an excited autistic boy. He just made me love pancakes again. That was a close call.

4:42:04 - Still yelling about pancakes. It’s almost endearing.

4:42:56 - Okay… it’s over. All that’s left to conquer is the bonus track. I have a couple of minutes now to relax before it starts. i’m gonna check out the linear notes. For the record, this CD is so fly there are 2 booklets, not 1, and 14 pictures of K-Fed. Including a pull out. Wow.

4:44:24 - In the linear notes he thanks “the haters. Without you this wouldn’t have been possible.” So that means that, in a way, this has all been my fault. By hating Kevin Federline, I’ve been responsible for his subsequent success. So all the pain that listening to this album has caused me could’ve been avoided by loving him. This would make a great John Hughes movie.

4:45:48 - I’m dreading this next track like a conversation with an ex-girlfriend who “really needs to talk about something.”

4:46:38 - It still hasn’t started. Maybe it’s a joke… maybe there is no..

4:46:44 - S**t.

4:47:22 - Ah, “Middle Finger.” I’m glad he’s using this bonus track to address issues he didn’t during 13 tracks on the CD. You know, issues like how much money he has, how much people love him, how he hates the media. It’s about time he shared his thoughts on that.

4:48:30 - I wish he would’ve ended with the Pancake! Pancake! song.

4:49:36 - And I did it. It’s over. I listened to K-Fed’s Playing With Fire in it’s entirety. I’d like to wrap everything up with a fun little antecdote, or a cute “what I learned,” but honestly I don’t think I can. I’m a beaten man. I’ve been through a war. I’m tired, I’m bruised, I’m hungry and I’m alone.

And I can really go for some f**king pancakes.

[abcdefz]

For what it's worth, I really liked the review on AMG. It's too long -- I haven't heard the CD, but I don't think it's worth this much thought -- but it seems very well-reasoned.



Review by Stephen Thomas Erlewine (http://www.allmusic.com/cg/amg.dll?p=amg&sql=10:pt508qccbtn4~T1)

One day, either in this life or the next, Britney Spears will have to atone for unleashing Kevin Federline upon the world. A onetime backup dancer for Justin Timberlake, LFO, and Britney herself, Federline was not just a nonentity prior to romancing Spears, he was a nonstarter, a cog in the machinery of the lower rungs of the pop music industry and destined to be nothing more. But Brit-Brit, reeling from her momentary marriage to childhood friend Jason Alexander, saw something buried behind the skeevy look in his eyes and decided that Kevin Federline was her soulmate. This was something that shook her to her core, so she decided to share him with the world, so we could all see just how special he is. Foremost among her efforts to explain the inexplicable was the unwatchable 2005 reality series Chaotic, which chronicled their banal courtship in numbing detail. A cursory glance at the show -- and, really, it was impossible to watch it for much longer than that -- revealed how desperately lonely Britney was at the moment she fell for Federline, who swiftly seduced her with a charm detectable only by Britney herself. He left his pregnant fiancee and young child, joined her on tour, and she fell completely under his spell, quickly marrying the former backup dancer, dragging him along to tabloid stardom and the delusions of grandeur that accompany such status. Well, stardom might be overstating it: notoriety is a more accurate term, since the average person on the street did not know who he was, and those who did -- mainly gossip mavens -- reveled in his loutish behavior, which was the only accomplishment outside of paternity he could call his own. Like Paris or Nicole, he was a celebrity, celebrated for nothing more than being Kevin. And, like Paris or Nicole, he wanted more than just headlines to his name; he wanted something tangible to justify his stardom, something like a record. When there are millions of dollars in your family -- either by blood or marriage -- such dreams are attainable, so Kevin was on his way toward a recording career. Soon, he was dubbed as an "aspiring musician" in the tabloids, which soon gave way to "aspiring rapper." The fruits of his labor were first tentatively revealed when a portion of "Y'all Ain't Ready" was leaked on the Net toward then end of 2005. It may have lasted no longer than a minute, but that minute was jam-packed with memorable absurdity, most notably his timeless malapropism of calling paparazzi "Pavarottis" and his boast that his style was "straight 2008" when his sleepy drawl and backing track recycled every white wannabe-gangsta cliché from the past 15 years. Bloodied but not beaten, K-Fed -- which he was now being called, with absolutely no irony on his part -- unveiled his first full-length single on New Year's Day 2006. "PopoZao" -- a celebration of Brazilian ass -- was let loose on the Internet, where it was greeted with unfettered and deserved ridicule, as it lived up to the promise of "Y'All Ain't Ready." Both singles were awful, but they were gloriously awful, the work of a hack who believed he was a genius and was surrounded by yes-men were either too well paid to tell him otherwise, or were laughing behind his back as they gave him enough rope to hang himself high. It was the kind of music that was a marvel because it was so naturally, inadvertently funny, and these two early singles raised expectations for Federline's debut, since they suggested that this had the potential to be a comedy classic -- something that would finally reward all of us who have had to put up with his smirking rat face for two years that have felt like an eternity. Alas, such hope was in vain. Federline's debut album, Playing with Fire, is indeed bad, but it's bad in an uninteresting way; it's as dull and predictable as its title. Clearly, the early ridicule bestowed upon "PopoZao" and "Y'All Ain't Ready" had an effect upon Kevin -- not to inspire him to do better, but rather to not stray beyond the watered-down Snoop Dogg impression that turns out to be his signature. Ignore K-Fed's bragging -- to a synth line borrowed from "The Final Countdown," no less -- that he has that "hip-hop flavor mixed with a little bit of rock & roll"; there's nothing but outdated G-funk and West Coast beats here, music that's been heard countless times before, usually as the generic soundtrack to inner-city crime on CSI or Law & Order, and his stoned, self-satisfied drawl disappears into the repetitive, bass-heavy throb of the music. Indeed, whenever a guest is brought into the studio -- Ya Boy on the charming "Dance with a Pimp," Bosko on "Privilege," or Britney herself on "Crazy," where she sings the hook on the latest attempt to mythologize their pedestrian romance (not coincidentally, that hook is the only memorable piece of music on the record) -- they draw attention away from the man of the hour, because unlike him, they have some degree of presence and charisma. But if there is anybody listening to Kevin, they're not listening for the music or his skills as a rapper: they want to hear his lyrics, they want to laugh at him, not with him, as he strives to top "I know y'all wishin' you was in my position/Cause I keep gettin' into situations/That you wish you was in, cousin." And although he's "coming out like Janet's titty at the Super Bowl," he's not nearly as shocking as he'd like to believe or as amusing as his haters would hope: he just comes across as a big boob. He has some moments of insight ("I know I'm not a nerd/But I know how to calculate them birds"), has a way with a simile ("It's going down like a fresh pair of panties"), and a flair for left-field pop culture references ("I'm like Val Kilmer how I'm bringing this heat"), but throughout Playing with Fire Federline is far too serious about being taken seriously to get unintentionally silly, and the album is a bore because of it.

It's also a bore because he's a boor, writing endlessly about the same three topics: his alleged superstardom, his hatred of the media, his love of parties and dope. While the old rule that writers should write what they know may hold true, the unspoken part of that maxim is that the writing should either be interesting or done well, two goals that are well beyond Federline's reach. Never mind writing well: competence is barely within his grasp, as it often sounds like he can't quite understand the meaning of what he saying, whether he's casually blaspheming ("Like Jesus in every way/I'm crucified every day"), suggesting that he loves dope as much as he loves his wife ("fell in love with the herbs just like my wife," which could indeed mean that Britney also loves ganja; either is possible, and it doesn't really matter which is true), serves up his career plans ("got tired of the drugs so I switched to rap"), and offers up a self-description so pungent and succinct it could stand as his epitaph: "This marijuana has got me heavily sedated/I'm Kevin Federline, America's Most Hated." He's onto something there: America does indeed hate him, but it's not an active, consuming hatred, it's a mild, persistent annoyance, the way that a dumbass brother-in-law gets on your nerves. And that's really what Federline is: the guy in your life that you wish would just quietly disappear, but he won't, since he's married into your family and you're now stuck with him. K-Fed may not be related to America by law, but as long as he's married to a superstar, we're stuck with him popping up a couple times a year, as if he wants to remind us that he is just as shallow, tasteless, and stupid as we remember -- and there is no greater testament to his utter emptiness than this stultifying record. Years, or perhaps months, from now after Britney has finally left this guy and he's disappeared to wherever Carlos Leon now spends his days, perhaps we'll all look back and laugh, but the worst thing about Playing with Fire is that it's too stale and inept to inspire laughter: it can only elicit weary groans, just the way another Pavarotti pic of K-Fed on the cover of US Weekly or Star does.

[beastieangel01]

K-Fed is hotter than a pizza oven. I just thought you should know.

“Dudes hate K-Fed. Girls love K-Fed. It don’t matter to me because K-fed stay fed!” WOW! Hold the phone! Stop the presses! K-Fed just blew my F**KING MIND.

I’m pretty sure he just compared himself to Tupac. I’m going to pretend that didn’t happen.

I wish he would’ve ended with the Pancake! Pancake! song.

ahahaha! HI-larious.