"no lie--i'm higher than i ever been. (born rich born uptown born to win.)"

Birdman. Yesterday, Today, and Tomorrow. I mean, endless love. And this hook is hotness. But where is the signature bird call???!!!! I want to become a pop star just so I can cut a track with Birdman constructed solely of his bird calls. And is that Drizzy getting dim?

Addendum: I was premature in posting this entry yesterday, having yet to make a close listen. But since last night's commute, "Money to Blow" has been repeat-oned on my iPod and...the hook (chorus?) is clearly supreme, the reason for the track's stupid listenability. But Drake's verse is kind of AWFUL. What's all this talk of roofies?! Roofs? And that "constantly seducing ho's" line is awkward. And oddly, I find it tough to suspend reality with this cat. He says, "I'm on a 24 hour champagne diet." And I get sober. I say no no. I used to be on one of those and it sucks. You get headaches and you blackout and crowds are fine but most one-on-one interactions are total disasters. Generally anti-human, non-life-affirming. And I'm letting it slide because, as stated, I like this part, but that line about money falling on skin...I dig the mention of skin (I'm probably wrong but I think 'touch' is not called upon enough in English-language musics), yet klar-ly he is not talking about hisself--he is throwing money at a woman. The worst. What a punk. And around 8:20 this morning I realized, Birdman (my darling) would not be getting this kind of airplay without this fresh, young thing being attached to the project. And that hurts my feelings.

Reunion (Early March Jam)

Senior year of high school was awash in 50 Cent (and Cam'Ron and Lil' Kim and Missy and Jahiem and Mr. Bigg and Beyonce and Justin Timberlake and Sean Paul and Pharrell). "21 Questions" (Nate Dogg, I love your work.) was the radio song of lazy, hazy, dazy, teenage truant spring afternoons. Or, really this was...but still, hearing any of that G-Unit stuff (from between 2003 and 2006) makes me feel like a happy, dancey fool, like I want to bob my head and snap and sing the hook and drink pink wine, like I'm at a reunion, like I'm forty (or 18?), like I'm listening to a pop relic. The sound is easy and shameless and always/already past.

"Hate It or Love It" was a hit collaboration between 50 and The Game released amid stories of the rappers' (non-event) falling out. The Trammps sample and nostalgic rhymes are evocative of this general "reunion feeling-notion," the whole, familiar and right. Oh the pure, aughtsy aspirationalism of it all! Dig that last shot of the black and red limited edition U2 AIDS Ipod. GGG-G.

She Works in Deutsche Radio

August Sander
Secretary at West German Radio, Cologne
1931
















I am not used to seeing such glamorous, indefinite characters among Sander's sitters. This picture drove me to verify my suspicions about the word secretary--

(sĕk'rĭ-tĕr'ē)
1387, "person entrusted with secrets," from M.L. secretarius "clerk, notary, confidential officer, confidant," from L. secretum "a secret" (see secret). Meaning "person who keeps records, write letters, etc.," originally for a king, first recorded c.1400. As title of ministers presiding over executive departments of state, it is from 1599. The word is used in both Fr. and Eng. to also mean "a private desk," sometimes in Fr. form secretaire (1818).