When Lou Adler was producing father of soul Sam Cooke back in the '60s, he didn't know that the prospect of music was in his hands. Adler wasn't aware that his efforts would soon be the face of the civil rights movement, or that his direction would aid the passion of a generation.
Neither did he realize that his own son would be the jackass who MTV is currently making him out to be.
I speak of none other than Whitestarr (don't worry, I've never heard of them either) front man Cisco Adler and his deadweight partner in crime Shwayze on MTV's new show "Buzzin'," lethargically named after their single. Given that the general collegiate populace watches MTV, I present to you the attention-craving Shwayze, a duo hailing from Malibu, California, with sunshine grooves that reek of rum and daily wake-and-bakes.
So when a Spicoli and a Fresh Prince wannabe come together, they bring you the new self-titled album "Shwayze," released by Geffen Records. It's a intermingling of heavy bass and kick, acoustic and hip-hop.
It seems to them the formula is simple: catchy chorus plus clever rapping equals teen hit. Although Shwayze may claim to speak of the ardor of a generation, they lack substance and more importantly, direction.
Rapper Shwayze probably made one of the better decisions by keenly decideding to hook up with Adler. Together they present to us the unnecessary favors of West Coast imagery and pacific blunders (we speak of the gaffe of illustrious women and calling in sick to buy pot).
In "High Together," Shwayze raps, "I live by the 'W's, Weed and women, I live on the beach down the street from Cheech, I can't buy you a drink and it's not that I'm cheap, I'm just broke ma." You get the idea; perhaps a little harder to relate, but you get it.
Cisco Adler, known for his Hollywood antics, has saved us all the trouble of producing the album but plays the role of a bubbly savior when it comes to the record's lasting value and marketability. Shwayze banks on this guy for sure. If he's sober enough, at least Adler has the aptitude to conjure up decent hooks.
Songs like "Corona and Lime" and "Don't Be Shy" are filled with catchy hooks that sound like an old Sugar Ray album.
Some of the hooks' self-indulgent lyric content will make you cringe, but you'll get over it when you realize that Shwayze is inhospitably rapping his way into the afterthought.
The sunshine grooves eventually start to blend together and soon the rapping begins to all sound the same. A rapper for the ladies, Shwayze has little versatility in his flow and he quickly drowns into the hollowness of his words. This is until Adler's beguiling chorus juts in to save the day.
One of the better tracks, "Mary Jane" features a little more Adler than usual. He croaks, "Her name was Mary Jane, She sang, like Etta James, She came and went to easily, and it's strange how times are changed, I seen Mary yesterday, and she don't look the same to me." The metaphors are witty and give a peek into what a solo career might hold.
Shwayze is another example of record labels pushing an artist out because of the success of another artist similar with a
sound. It seems that Gym Class Heroes and Flobots
have done this already and we don't need to fuse that with a Sublime palette. Just because Shwayze sounds like Lupe Fiasco's younger brother doesn't mean that you can compare them. Adler, a man with a lifestyle of glamour with too much time on his hands, needs to go solo and attempt bolder music.
Shwayze is an extremely monotonous record that is packaged with fabricated ignorance and a bad sunburn.
Unless you're already watching "The Hills,'' then I would advise you to stay away from the unmemorable "Buzzin'"
in any form. I'm pretty sure the whole album is on YouTube anyway.