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Quantum Meruit & Unjust Enrichment
on November 25, 2003
Not since jam master Slicey Dice proffered unalloyed alluvial capacities in his 1989 masterpiece "Eat Da Meat, B*tch!" has the music industry heard anything quite like this reticulated casus belli, wherein slap master F*cky G takes a long, hard look at society's natatory polymorphism and decides he doesn't really dig it after all. Well, my good man, it's too friggin late. You should have thought of that before accepting their well-marked enjoinment. Now you're stuck with it...which means we're stuck with it, too. Take, for egregious example, his gallinaceous ballad "Crack *ss 2 da Mouf" (track 27) which consists of little more than simple anfractuosities congealed by means of elementary thematic groups, which in turn are assuaged by reiterated expositional functions of the most sartorial kind. Hardly the stuff of revolutionary import that the foolish reviewer from Toledo (see below) keeps proclaiming, against all auditory evidence. Maybe if F*cky G would listen to how a real master does it, he could come up with something worth fortifying. (Hint: Listen to street genius Spunk Man P for clues as to how it ought to be done. For all his rash and irreverent dicta, Spunk Man's got the genuine goods. His persuasive manipulation of rhythmic shift, dynamic contrast, and best of all, intermotivic correspondence are worthy of Webern himself. And that's as high praise as can be offered to mere mortal man!)
All in all, it's just another sick in the stall.