The Wrap Up 2006 - Worst of the Worst

Farewell, 2006. Please know that you won’t be missed. This is usually the time to prep a “Best of…” list to highlight a year’s elite moments, but the last 365 days have made that job extremely difficult. Finding positives in ’06 is like finding a Hollywood “It” girl who embraces the wonders of underwear.

The sixth year of this third millennium yielded few great moments. Sure, it was nice to see the Democrats take control of the Legislature. But we also had to watch the horrors of Iraq, hear Foley’s audition for Dateline to Catch a Predator and use language not fit for Church whenever gas prices increased. Small victories came with big price tags this year.

Kam’s Worst of 2006 Extravaganza will pile on those woes even more. Forget arguing about the best albums or movies of the year; let’s shed light on the trends and products that made wayward souls buy into the hype that Hip-Hop is dead. Everyone will greet 2007 with open arms, but now is the time to celebrate this scornful year’s less than stellar offerings.

Music: The Movements & Moments

Lil’ Wayne’s Love Drama. A few “jealous” brothers had hate in their eyes every time they saw Lil’ Wayne with his lovebird Trina. Plenty of guys wanted to see if Da Baddest Bitch is really about what she says in her lyrics, and it seemed like Wayne was the only person getting a first-hand account.

But every heterosexual male in the country expressed comedic shock and disgust after learning that Trina’s weren’t the only lips Wayne was kissing. Though there have been rumors for quite some time that the Cash Money Millionaires share more than a label, few were prepared to see pictures of Wayne and Baby kissing. The sight of two grown men unapologetically kissing each other on the lips, especially in the macho-fueled world of Hip-Hop, was too much for many people to handle.

CMR tried to do damage control and claim they picked up the kiss of death from the Italian Mafia, but Tony Sopranos across the country put down their calzones, gave the gas face and asked, “Who is this guy?”

Sagging SoundScan. Hip-Hop isn’t dead, but keep the respirator charged just in case. Despite heavily-promoted albums from industry vets and previously successful rookies, 2006 was unkind at the register. Only two rap albums released this year -- T.I.’s King and Jay-Z’s Kingdom Come -- went platinum. The rest of Hip-Hop’s un-anointed albums didn’t fare so well. The Clipse, Game and even Mr. Hey, Look at Me (Diddy) all flopped.

Overall album sales in 2006 fell five percent compared to last year. But sales in country music, which Hip-Hop dethroned in the late 90’s as the top selling genre, reversed course and increased five percent. With two Disney soundtracks likely to rank among the best selling albums in 2006, Nas may have to resuscitate Hip-Hop after all.

Legends of the Fall. Speaking of Esco, he’s guilty of another lowlight of 2006. Though he and Jay-Z were supposed to carry the banner for Def Jam in the fourth quarter, both artists fumbled and dropped albums below their potential. A half-hearted Nas performance may be better than most rappers performing at their peak, but listeners should expect more from someone capable of creating a classic. It’s too bad Nasir’s incredible literary talent is rivaled only by his questionable ear for beats.

Jay-Z’s inevitable return gave fans less time to build expectations but Kingdom Come still fell short. The script called for a rap Rocky Balboa saga: the legend would make a triumphant return and steal some shine from the youngsters in his shadow. Kingdom Come was unfortunately a Tommy Gunn tale, sputtering weak, whispered lyrics instead of loudly firing the street-clearing heat Hov has delivered in years past. The Hustler’s Hustler has lost a step.

Rappers Who Can’t Rap. I understand and embrace Hip-Hop’s need for mindless entertainment; you can’t party to Canibus waxing poetic about the complexities of space travel and astrological algorithms. Even so, how did we reach a point where rap became so void of substance that literally anyone can do it? The game is so saturated with sucker MC’s that you can stick any loser off MySpace into the studio with Scott Storch and he’ll churn out a hit. If Yung Joc, MIMs and Lil’ Boosie can do it, anyone can.

2006 was the year listeners said, “INSERT NAME can’t rap, but his music bangs in the whip.” Disposable music was so common that it became forgivable because of whipbangability, which is a sad sign of the times. No other genre of music supports artists who have absolutely no talent (except R&B…hey, Cassie!), so why is the ability to rap not a prerequisite for a record deal?