Chingy f. Jermaine Dupri "Dem Jeans"
Tuesday, October 3, 2006
I’ve come to the point where I just refuse to hide the extreme pleasure I get listening to rap songs like this. I’ve got like one or two friends who tolerate it, but the only time I really get to enjoy a song like this is either on headphones or over the PA at a bar that I could never go to unless I was conducting ethnographic evidence or something. It’s not like Chingy is something I can listen to while having friends over for drinks or something, and not even because of the intolerance, but because this stuff only fits situations where people are already drunk and singlemindedly commited to having sex. So I’ve only listened to Hoodstar in my living room, I think each time by myself. And don’t tell me that the context doesn’t alter the meaning, because I’ll disagree with you if you say that. I listen to a song like “Dem Jeans” (mp3) in a different way, I’m assuming (hoping) than it was intended. The song is a mid-tempo, sweaty banger that can only really come from St. Louis in the 2000s: a rubbery, two-note rhythm changes from major to minor and back, and aside from some scattered synth banners, handclaps and high-pitch tinkling, it’s all about Chingy. And what I like about Chingy is exactly the same thing I love about Nelly—that he doesn’t rap or recite lyrics as much as he proclaims stuff, like a town crier or a guy in a musical or something, and punctuates his songs with “heys” and “hos” that give it a high-school pep-rally chant feel. Specifically to this song, Chingy’s a dude either at a bar or outside a convenience store that creeps behind a girl, but not talking to her as much as delivering a monologue in her general direction. The questions are the unanswerable ones: “Damn, girl, how’d you get it all that in dem jeans?” isn’t exactly “what’s your number?,” and “betcha had to lay back on the bed just to zip ‘em up” isn’t quite “where you stay at?” The girl does get a voice in the song, if only as timbre variance—”Is you talkin to me?,” she asks, before later confirming Chingy’s speculations that she indeed did put a lot of work (literally) into her apparel, by saying “you right.” It’s objectifying, sure, no denial there, but then again so were huge paintings of women in corsets. And where Chingy succeeds is where the Victorians failed—he revels in symbolic abundance and freedom instead of chastity and repression. So yeah, that’s what I get from this song, which means I need to get my ass to a club, please.
In the meantime, buy Hoodstar here.
“but because this stuff only fits situations where people are already drunk and singlemindedly commited to having sex”
not quite. it also works as background music for: running, ruminating about the importation of british tv shows in the 1960s/70s, cooking, cleaning.
and the best part about it? i almost like the beat on the next song better so i just cant wait to get there. admittedly, ‘brand new kicks’ may be ever better. and i found a way to defend hip hop against cheap arguments about sensationalism, sexism, and commodification. i am brilliant.
i hope i can be among the few friends you can listen to chingy around.
Wow – that track is awful. But, you know, good awful. I was hooked by the second verse.
Great post.