Isaac Hayes: Tough Guys
From Tough Guys (Enterprise, 1974).
I don’t know what the Ying Tang Twins have to “offer the game.” The fact that they seem contractually obligated to showcase their gold dentalwork in all promotional and publicity related photos notwithstanding, I don’t think of them much. Hell, I reviewed their album and I didn’t think about them much. But now I hear that they’re remaking one of my favorite Al Green songs. Exo is not amused. Not at fuckin’ all.
Songs from these albums are somewhere in this post. Really.
Anyway, when the G-O-Dizzle offered me this opportunity to prove that I basically have very little knowledge of music, I was a bit perplexed. Surely, I have been able to fool editors for years with shibboleths and pleonasm—mainly through my bromidic use of platitudinous truisms. These are the types of tricks you learn when you get paid by the word and your boss is a socially inept academic trying to make the Dean’s list (shoutout to Bob Xgau). But O-Dizzle? O-Dizzle is a thinking man. Did I manage to pull the extra-virgin lambswool over his four astute eyes as well? Did he think that I actually knew anything regarding writing about music? At first I was like, “Nah. Holmes has to be wrong.” But he was like, “Sun, you promised. Pulling out’s really no fun.” So I asked, “Can I use Jay-Z?” He said, “You can use Jay-Z.”
At this point, exo was perplexed. I mean, should I use this opportunity to plug my own never-launched MP3 blog? Should I tell you that the dream
is over has evolved? Or should I just prove to you ungrateful free music-seeking urchins that I, too, have stacks o’ Stax? That my Ubiquity is ubiquitous? That I can get my N’Awlins shine on like I was the numba one stunna? Oh yeah, trust the kid got iTunes for days—78 and counting. That’s not even taking into account the joints I got on stash waiting for the terabyte to come thru. (Feel free to step your game up.)
So what was I to do? Get random like Lady Ess-Oh-Vee? No, I have my own blog to do that. And, besides, if I tried to get obscure, you’d probably realize that I get most of my facts from Allmusic and liner notes. So I’ma keep it simple for now: The new Geto Boys album dropped last week and your Pushermania, Matt Sonzala has been chronicling the foundation of da good, da bad and da ugly while grippin’ it hard on a whole ‘nother level, so I thought I’d revisit a classic.( Who knew that there were reasons to admire Chef aside from his libidionus attitude towards pinktoes?)
Well, either my mind is playing tricks on me or beguiling you with specious fanfaronade was easier than I thought. (Would it be redundant to point out my pleonastic repetition at this point?) I may have let on that I know absolutely nothing about the history surrounding this post’s Easter-egged musical offerings, yet you’ve learned so much, haven’t you? Now, if you would tap that snowflake on her shoulder for me . . .
[GunYoga: And for the right price, I can make your shit tighter.]