It's my turn and I'm starting right here today." And so on- it's one of those black-and-white-to-technicolor moments after which, if you still don't believe in Wayne, you're just lying to yourself. Wayne breaks: "I'm trying to tell you what I am, baby- listen." And after almost two minutes of no talking he bursts the song open: "So many doubt cos I come from the South, but when I open my mouth the best come out. "They want me with my hands up," sings Thicke, doing that stupid "raise the roof" thing. If Thicke's the crybaby here, Wayne's the stick-up kid. Wayne was holding us at bay, all our presuppositions about his career, his music, his age and color, his responsibility qua artist post-Katrina. ![]() This young New Orleans rapper bouncing around on stage with Real Musicians but not much else, good for a laugh or a breakdance or whatever Other-approved televised woop-de-doo- "cute" and "rap's not so bad after all" but also "rapping is easy," "rap=only good as the sample it swiped". ![]() What a tense performance so far music played, but you could probably hear a pin drop.
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