Being a real Simon LeBon head, serious excitement had been brewing within me since the news that they’re latest effort, the extremely Duranly named Red Carpet Massacre, would see Timbaland and Timberlake at the producer’s desk. On paper, that looks like the Boston Celtics bringing in Garnett and Ray Allen — a textbook upgrade that’ll do nothing but help the franchise.
Unfortunately, unlike the Celtics, the Timbaland-Timberlake-Duran triple threat seems to have suffered from some serious chemistry issues. The songs aren’t there. Perhaps, I thought, the problem lies with me; was I expecting too much of a group that had its greatest success before I was born? Was I asking too much for the band to top 2004’s surprisingly reasonable Astronaut?
Alas, my lofty expectations are not to blame. The album just isn’t very good. Justin’s production efforts on Falling Down sound like one of the fucked songs you skipped on Justified. Timbaland phones it in (does he really get paid half a million per song? Of course not. If he did, his efforts on Massacre would have him charged federally with fraud). And, worst of all, Duran Duran seem to have forgotten a key element of pop song penning: make the songs good.
If there’s any good Duran news, it’s this: John Taylor and Simon LeBon are still totes good-looking. Woop!
MP3: Duran Duran - “Red Carpet Massacre” (from Red Carpet Massacre, 2007).
In the midst of that shocking mediocrity, thank the lord for Jay-Z. Just when I was starting to tire of repeated Kingdom Come listenings, he comes along with a goddamned scorcher in American Gangster. The beats are ridiculous - think Curtis Mayfield jamming with Just Blaze - and the rhymes are as good as ever (’let’s stop the bullshittin’: til we all without sin let’s quit the pulpittin”).
MP3: Jay-Z - “Pray” (from American Gangster, 2007).
The only problem with the album? Jigga didn’t ask 30 Odd Foot Of Grunts to contribute. Weird, I know.
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Dude, Duran Duran’s never going to make another Rio, Girls On Film, or Hungry Like The Wolf. Never gonna happen.
But you’re right. Dudes look like they’re frozen between albums. It’s creepy, if you ask me.