Edd’s MANtra: Guilty Pleasure Artists

Last week, many of you probably saw the wifey’s post in which she tried to con me into liking a Lady GaGa song by having a couple of Changing Faces clones sing it.

And it almost worked. I would download their version if it were on iTunes or if I wasn’t deathly afraid of Limewire. I’m scared it’ll give my already raggedy computer cyber syphilis.

To show I’m not a total stick-in-the-mud, let me share my all-time favorite guilty pleasure album – an album from an artist who admittedly kinda sucks.

Believe it or not, Biggie’s butler always has been one of my favorite rappers. His flow is stilted, his rhymes are simplistic, and he’s extremely juvenile. But look at that album cover – you can’t hate on a man who willingly looks that ridiculous.


And check out these quality lyrics:


From “Work It Out”: (in fake Jamacian accent) “Aaahhhh! I luv a pret-ty gurl! Dats sexxxie!” Don’t ask me why he uses an “accent” for that one line, which has nothing to do with the song anyway.


From “Girlfriend”: “Cats getting deals and I ain’t aggie/got Regis round the world and they ain’t Kathy.” Ten years later and I still have no idea what that means.


And later in the same song:


“Are you shyless, or are you guyless?/OR ARE YOU STRAIGHT UP POSING TOPLESS?” Stop yelling, Cease, we hear you! We don’t understand you, but we hear you.

See, not even I am immune to liking ridiculous artists. Music is supposed to be fun.

But I would have more fun smashing a Lady GaGa CD with a sledgehammer than I would by listening to it.