Please excuse me while I watch my rainbow colored bridge burn.
Seriously, though, I can't get those 4 minutes of my life back. The entire experience compelled the following thoughts:
- Oh, Beyonce. Even J-Lo wouldn't sing this. Not even if she could, you know, sing.
- If the soundtracks to "Slumdog Millionaire" and "Drumline" got together and had (really, really awkward) sex and we were within earshot, this is what we would hear. That's a really long-winded way of describing this as a pop music mess or whatever you call it.
- Is Alicia not letting you play with Swizz anymore?
- If the above is not the case, what are you doing hanging out with Diplo and Switch? Don't screw too much with your sound. You saw what happened when Janet stopped messing with Jimmy Jam and Terry Lewis, didn't you? (Can't just blame #nipplegate) Think about it.
- Lil Jon? Are you serious? I know you're probably not that good at math, but I think you forgot to add a decade. 2001 wants its favorite rapper back. I thought they had buried Lil Jon under some crunk rock and here you come resurrecting him. 2011 Lil Jon isn't even a poor man's version of Lil Jon. He's not even on the top ten list of "Rappers Who Go by 'Lil'" anymore. Was Wayne busy? Is T.I. in jail (again)? What about Drake? Or your husband?
- If you're going to put Lil Jon on a track, you might as well call Ja Rule.
- I generally ignore your Jekyll and Hyde pseudo-feminist but soooo not act, but this is beyond pathetic. If this is your new independent women anthem, I'd rather you tell women to put a ring on it. (Because it's still the jam. Oh-oh-oh!)
- I cannot two-step to this shit!
- If I may echo the homie, Moya B., Sasha, this is so not fierce.
- Thank you for ruining my summer. I can't believe I ever quasi-jokingly defended you.
Enjoy your week, folks.