Ethel Merman, KISS, The Rolling Stones and Rod Stewart made disco records at the height of disco. Of course, each one of these artists grasped the concept of what made disco, well disco at varying levels of talent, which ultimately was one of the key reasons for the mainstreaming and demise of the disco movement. Of course, without disco as a precursor, we wouldn’t have house music or hip hop, so, in every logical progression, a little rain must fall. If MTV still showed videos, then I suppose we would’ve never had to deal with the alternating between ridiculously absurd and true cultural eyesore, the Jersey Shore, which intentionally depicts low culture stereotypes of rabid followers of electronic dance music. Maybe even as appalling as the conceptualization of Italian-American guidos and guidettes as gym, tan and laundry obsessed vapid egomaniacs is the characterization of fans of EDM as appearance obsessed fist-pumping cretins with gigantic physiques and violent predispositions. Proving the adage true that money is green and it spends, the Jersey Shore soundtrack has culled together some terrific lowlights and brief highlights of EDM culture, much in line with the ethos of how MTV views the culture of dance music and the longevity of the electro movement.
The album is highlighted by stellar production. From top to bottom, any album which includes Diplo, Tiesto, Paul Oakenfold, Richard Vission, Deadmau5, Nadastrom and David Guetta amongst the production credits is going to be on point. This album is not much for great feats of depth, but I’d like to see the concept of a Kid Sister and Nina Sky collaboration pursued considerably more. The hipster superpower girl group handled Nadastrom’s reworking of Debbie Deb’s 26 year old freestyle classic well enough, and I’d love to see them get their vocals on some original cuts, or even better, covers of artists like Lisette Melendez or Lisa Lisa and Cult Jam. David Guetta’s “No Getting Over You” was amazing when just a vocal workout for the bombastic Chris Willis. However, with Fergie and LMFAO added, it moves from the realm of exquisite electro to bloated pop, like watching Elvis sing “Love Me Tender” in Memphis in 1962, then watching him sing it in Vegas in 1974. However, even as an overheated pop ditty it still succeeds as a top track.
Now, to the lowlights. Namely, Will I. Am/Zupher Blaq and Lil Jon, but trending to Ludacris and now sadly Pitbull as well. Hip hop and electro fit together like a hand in glove. House music expanded hip hop like never before in the early 1990s, as the swinging beats of house completely livened up what was in danger of becoming an experimental yet still mundane industry. Will I. Am is a fantastic cultural identifier. He has credibility in all circles and is uniquely talented as a producer. Lil Jon is one of the best hypemen in musical history, combining the best elements of Rufus Thomas and Flavor Flav into a potent party starting blend. Pitbull merely became informed by suave Miami nightlife fashion sense and next level production, and mainstreamed his career. Ludacris is a dope emcee with no business coming within 100 feet of a record moving over 120 BPMs. Take Will I. Am out of the studio, have Lil Jon be six years past considerable cultural importance, strip away next level production from Pitbull, and have Ludacris rapping to swift moving electro, and you get one of the sadder wastes of four talented rappers ever recorded on one album. By lacking any sort of refreshing inventiveness, the tracks featuring these bona fide superstars sound stale, tired, flat and completely uninspired. As well, the latest crew of party crunkers, namely 3OH!3 and LMFAO are second rate copies of who and what they are imitating, and when divorced from good production that can hide their inadequacies due to under development as performers are perfunctory, if not pedestrian, which is an issue that flaws the entire album.
The album closes with DJ Pauly D, a show cast member’s very predictable “Beat Dat Beat (It’s Time To).” Outside of a great hook and an especially lush sample of Crystal Waters’ “100% Pure Love,” this track suffers from being crafted by a neophyte, and when in the hands of veterans Anthony Acid and DJ Skribble, treated like an afterthought instead of a hit. And that’s the problem here. In making electro a commodity for the mainstream, all of the soul has been effectively stripped from the music. How do you kill the blood sucking Dracula that hipster culture was on international dance movements? You drive a stake, firmly clenched by a fist-pumping hand, into its still beating heart.
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