“i’m in luv with a stripper” is an absolutely depressing odyssey, insofar that t-pain is dropping this great gossamer fantasy-ballad for this woman (“body of a goddess”) who is clearly descending from a pole in stripclub slo-mo, like wim wenders (/hype williams) directed her, a pedestalized angel from above, highly stylized, and glossed up w/baby oil or something. but t-pain falls for it, the oiled-up camera trickery, mesmerized by this one shot. he is mesmerized (/”in luv”) because he is clearly lonely, to be in luv with a woman he doesn’t even know. (or the character is lonely–apparently the real t-pain is married to the woman he wrote “i’m sprung” about). i picture him (his character) in the strip club, three tequilas in, blubbering to Mike Jones (who has accompanied him on this particular strip club excursion), “i’m so in luv with that stripper over there.” Mike is not drunk, he is absentmindedly going “yeah she cool, check out her ass” or something, but he doesn’t get it. t-pain is beer-goggled, alone, and probably not fetishizing her naked body qua naked body so much as he is fetishizing the life he wants to build from luv (not love) with her (“i’m not goin nowhere girl/ i’m stayin”). However, because he is, at present, emotionally stunted (either via life-hardship or BNRZ), he cannot relate to her in any way other than how well she wine it down the pole. So he vocodors the shit out, plays a luv song in his mind (with a ballady gtr in bckgrnd), we are totally swept away by his (terribly) self-coined “hard & B” which is the audio equivalent of eating cotton candy while floating through clouds–not empty, but surreal. t-pain is the loveless of hard n b.
or maybe it’s just this one-minute dude visual sexuality shit and i am reading too much into it, under the HEFTY INFLUENCE OF QUANTUM PHYSICS!!!
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wow…you went very deep into this song. now i have to start looking at what i listen to differently.
wow. you went very deeply into the meaning of this song. i suppose in the ’06 i have to start analyzing the music i listen to far more complexly. thanks.
friend,
i was initially going to leave you a much longer screed here, discussing how the aforementioned t-pain’s masterful “i’m in luv with a stripper” is very much moving the black feministing mvt (or at least approximating healthy relations btwn negroes and negresses in 2005, thus serving as a beacon amidst the murk, and, in turn, imagining a better world for our children) more than quasi-conscious tunez like, say, “me or the papes,” which is something i haven’t thought about in years, like napster. but in any case, i think as much is pretty obvious: no less a “prophet” than jeru’s unconditional love and respect is reserved for the “queens,” as opposed to da bitchez, who are, apparently, much more common.
it, however, bears questioning: when and where, in hip-hop, do these “queens” occur? in other words, why don’t rappers record songs mostly describing attributes of said faceless “queens” (if they really feel that way) rather than those of the inevitably classicist (and despised), babymama/slut construct, so at odds with our still-anonymous “queens” that these half-baked, patronizing records purport to celebrate? (“me or the papes” glorifies blk women in much the same way ’80’s, made-for-tv, black history bio-pics “glorified” the black, civil rights leaders, who usually ended up starring in minor roles–at the expense of some YT reporter covering the scene–in films that were supposed to be about them in the first place.) could it be that jeru or mc get-busy, both informed by our everfuckingly patriarchal, amerikkan social order, purposely (or, better yet, subconsciously) uphold an ideal of this inanimate, holymother/water-bearer, so as to more comfortably surmise that da bitchez ain’t shit? (after all, if your auras don’t scream “queen,” for which we have no terrestrial equal, than you are all surely bitchez, no?) almost no one is extraordinary or, for that matter, interesting. and with that said, what we have with hip-hop is a failure to except blk women on their own, often homespun terms.
which is why “i fell in luv with a stripper” is the jawn. t-pain’s desirable stripper is, more or less, one of da bitchez. yet he feels no shame, despite the fact that mike jones is also present and–remember!–he’s decidedly sober, and is staring at said stripper’s ass; to jones there exist goddesses and bitchez. t-pain, however, equates this dancer’s body to that of a goddess, thus superimposing the holy/otherworldy onto the profane/pedestrian, while acknowledging her as a very tangible woman, worthy of his luv. and while he recognizes that all blk women aren’t strippers, hence the song’s self-conscious title, as opposed to the stripes-esque “i fell in love with a girl,” t-pain knows that some are. ultimately t-pain rejects the concept of the “queen,” because clearly he’d rather luv, however prematurely, somebody’s daughter/girl/mother/niece/ sister/aunt/maid than surreptitiously hate via an ideal that doesn’t exist.
Also: RE: blacklove . . .
“i flow for chicks wishin’/ they ain’t have to strip to pay tuition/ i see your vision, mama” >>>>>> “brown skin lady” in its entirety.
true story.
dear j-shep,
i regret that i missed you on the evening of dec 11th. i hope you can assist me in obtaining remy ma’s press/contact info.
will dukes
new york, ny
january 9 in the year of our lord 2006
Bitch, i’d like to fuck you so hard that your tongue melts!