theworldismine13
God Emperor of SOHH
My Anaconda Don’t Want None
https://medium.com/@byroncrawford/my-anaconda-dont-want-none-f79b0e07332b
https://medium.com/@byroncrawford/my-anaconda-dont-want-none-f79b0e07332b
Or rather, two years ago. Nicki Minaj had what will likely end up being the biggest hits of her career with songs like “Starships” and “Super Bass.”
She was making the kind of money you can’t make making rap music that only appeals to black people. She was making that MC Hammer money. If the big Lurch-looking fellow who owns Cash Money Records let her keep any of it, imagine how many wigs she was able to buy.
With Whitney Houston out of the picture, only Beyoncé could claim to be as fortunate.
A meeting was held, not unlike the meeting in the early ‘90s at which the Illuminati decided to promote gangster rap in order to grow the prison-industrial complex. At this meeting, it was decided that they would find someone who makes garbage pop rap, like Nicki Minaj, who doesn’t look as much like one of the “models” from Kay Slay’s Straight Stuntin’ magazine.
Enter Iggy Azalea.
A white female rapper from Australia, Iggy Azalea was signed to T.I.’s Grand Hustle Records back when T.I.’s career was such that it warranted his own vanity imprint, i.e. a few prison stints ago. Now T.I. could almost be signed to Iggy Azalea, if a black male rapper being signed to a white female rapper was at all acceptable, and if a new T.I. album was at all necessary.
Iggy Azalea is at least as phony as Lana Del Rey, if not even more so. Like Lana Del Rey, Iggy Azalea was essentially a Britney Spears impersonator before she settled into the style for which she would eventually become famous. Video from that part of her career recently surfaced on the Internets.
Her bio, per the world’s most accurate encyclopedia, reads like the kind of corporate PR-concocted mythological origin story that should have long ago ceased to exist. It’s only slightly less ridiculous than Steve Martin’s bio in the movie The Jerk—and it’s not altogether different in substance.
Azalea travelled [sic] to the United States in 2006, right before she turned 16. She told her parents she was going “on a holiday” with a friend, but eventually decided to stay and shortly afterwards told them she was not coming back home.[…]
When she first arrived in the United States, she stayed in Miami, Florida, and afterwards lived briefly in Houston, Texas, Azalea settled for a few years in Atlanta, Georgia, working with a member of the Dungeon Family named Backbone.
Personally, I’m wary of stories of white girls who run away from home to live with black rappers no one ever heard of that don’t involve not being allowed to leave a motel room. Remember the scene in Hustle and Flow where Terrance Howard brought that white chick to a pawn shop to help negotiate a price on a microphone? My father is enamored of that film and will sometimes quote from it at the dinner table.
She’s with me, but she’s not with me, if you know what I mean…
Back around the time when Iggy Azalea was born, Vanilla Ice, her spiritual forefather, used to go around claiming that he grew up in the ghettos of Miami, probably near Rawse, and he once got stabbed in the butt. He was called out on this by Arsenio Hall, of all people, whose name is more or less synonymous with not being able to give a tough interview. It just goes to show how far the media has fallen in the “you should come on my podcast” era.
Eventually, Iggy Azalea became associated with T.I. He may have been brought in as her black public cosigner. Most white rappers, even in the age of Macklemore, have a black public cosigner. Eminem, of course, has Dr. Dre. Mac Miller has Wiz Khalifa. Justin Bieber, who’s not a rapper per se, has Usher. When it came out that Bieber has written a song about the dreaded n-word, Usher had to go on TMZ and “cape” for him. I’m sure it was a difficult thing for him to do, though perhaps not as difficult as the time his son died in a tragic jet ski accident.
Macklemore doesn’t have a black public cosigner that I’m aware of, but I’m sure he’ll bring someone in, as a temp, if/when TMZ turns up any dirt on him. He’s smart like that. He uses the same payola service the major labels use without having signed his publishing over for the privilege.
Increasingly, lending your credibility to talentless white children for a fee is becoming a popular career move for rappers who can’t otherwise get a label to answer the phone. Some song Nelly did with a group called Florida Georgia Line is supposedly the best-selling country song of all time. T.I. was sorta kinda on “Blurred Lines” by Robin Thicke, which dominated radio in 2013. I couldn’t tell you anything else he’s done so far this decade, other than going to jail.
Floyd Mayweather will occasionally mock both Nelly and T.I. and also 50 Cent on Instagram for being washed up. I think Nelly and T.I. both banged his baby’s mother, and Floyd may have returned the favor to T.I. I’m not sure what the beef between Fiddy and Floyd is, but whatever it is it led Fiddy to challenge Floyd to read a page from a Harry Potter book. Floyd responded by posting a check for $72 million on Twitter. I checked—it really does say $72 million.
You’re fancy, huh?
Iggy Azalea may have gone down in history as a footnote, like any number of white proteges of black rappers who don’t have a career anymore, if she hadn’t arrived at this particular moment. White people playing black music is hot right now. White artists dominated Billboard’s Hot 100 to the point where not a single black artist reached number one, for the first time since 1958.
Azalea’s song “Fancy,” featuring Charli XCX, and Ariana Grande’s song “Problem,” on which she’s featured, have dominated radio this summer not unlike “Blurred Lines” did last year. At one point, they held the top two spots on the Hot 100 simultaneously. Azalea was the first artist to have her first two hits achieve such a feat since The Beatles.
Of course she didn’t achieve that level of success solely on the basis of her perfect body and her “flow.” Her label pulled a few strings. “Fancy” was selected to be part of Clear Channel’s iHeartRadio “On the Verge” program, in which each of Clear Channel’s 840 radio stations was required to play the song at least 150 times—at which point they could choose to continue to play it, if it somehow became a hit.
Meanwhile, I’m not sure how a song that’s been played 150 times on 840 radio stations could not be considered a hit. A Little Brother song could have been a hit in that program!
I did the math just now, using the Calculator program on my computer. If each station only played “Fancy” the required 150 times, that means it got played 126,000 times this year.
“Fancy” was actually the fourth single from The New Classic. The other three you’ve never heard of, because the label wasn’t spending enough on payola.
Before she had a song anyone ever heard of, Iggy Azalea was probably most famous for pages and pages of GIFs of her twerking in concert, on Tumblr. GIF, thankfully, don’t have any audio. There may have also been a video or two on World Star.
In one of the clips I saw, she bent over near the edge of the stage and let guys touch her ass. I half contemplated buying a ticket to an Iggy Azalea show just so I could arrange myself near the stage and see what happened. I came thisclose to “dropping a digit” on Lady Gaga maybe a year before she became famous, and the fact that I didn’t has been one of my life’s greatest disappointments—which is saying something, if you know me.
Around the time her album came out, earlier this year, Iggy Azalea went on the radio and complained about guys trying to fingerbang her. Guys, who may have seen the same video I saw, were hitting her up on Twitter to let her know they’d be at the show and they were hoping to get their fingers wet. I took this to mean that Iggy Azalea was going out on tour, and if you copped a ticket, there was a slight possibility you could put a finger on it.
Of course there were any number of “think pieces” about the fact that not a single black artist topped the Billboard Hot 100 in 2013. In one of the ones I read, maybe the one at Slate, it said that Nicki Minaj, who was planning to drop an album this year, represented the black community’s best chance of reclaiming that number one spot, which of course is near the absolute top of our list of priorities.
That hasn’t happened. Well, Nick Minaj hasn’t done it yet. That Pharrell song “Happy,” which literally no one really likes, topped the Hot 100 for several weeks earlier this year. He was riding the wave of both “Blurred Lines” and “Get Lucky” by Daft Punk, both of which also suck balls, and numerous appearances on awards shows, late night TV and what have you. There may have also been some sort of “Harlem Shake”-esque scam in which he was able to juice the YouTube stats—which count on Billboard now.