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June 09, 2006


The bitch is back. Oh, sorry, I mean the crazy bitch is back. That's what former friends/employers/co-workers/even some relatives call Miranda Jane in front of her back.


But hmmm....never to her face.

Love the video for DRIVE SLOW. The space-time continuum hits a vortex-varial for the cameras when Kanyeezy, Paul Wall Baby, KING T.I., and friends meet shifty camera angles of glistening rims, diamonelles in the teeths, RIMS, slick-appears-wet paint, and of course fo'sho the Vegas strip. Sort of stop-action photography for a cinescape to fast for the lense to capture.

To MY homies and ex-homies, in the literal sense, drive slow...but please don't drive syrup-slow. Lean to the side...but don't lean to far, babies.

So, loved the video, but is anyone listening to the song? Or have we stopped paying attention to the words altogether? It's kind of an anthem/anathema for man-hoes...SLOW down, drive slow homie, watch for "hoes". Since we don't know which came first - the chicken, the egg, or the chickenhead - maybe it's wise to leave the responsibility up to men. Isn't THAT a novel concept? Since we were made from their rib and all... (Love to Bambaataa, but I always followed moreso the Knowledge Wisdom school of thought anyway.) Ahhh..1,2...1,2.

The hallmark of a Kanyesque track is apparent, even if you don't pay attention to the rhythmic american poetry part. The sample is ear-catching, indeed. Oh but did you know - it's one of many versions of the classic old-school soul jam, WILDFLOWER. Most know the standard by The New Birth, true heads know the illy live version by the O'Jays, and even I don't know who did the version sampled for the Drive Slow beat.

But it IS ill that today's nod to the men to Drive Slow utilizes that classic soul ballad which came from so many male singers, also a cautionary/pre-cautionary tale in a way, that Wildflower. Moreso a song from a male perspective, about a woman, directed toward men, to take heed/listen and SLOW DOWN (DRIVE SLOW HOMIE)...

She's faced the hardest times you can imagine

And many times her eyes fought back the tears
And when her youthful world was about to fall in
Each time her slender shoulders
Bore the weight of all her tears
And a sorrow no one hears
Still rings in midnight silence in her ears

Let her cry, for she's a lady
Let her dream for she's a child
Let the rain fall down upon her
She's a free and gentle flower growing wild

And if by chance that I should hold her
Let me hold her for all time
And if allowed just one posession
I would pick her from her garden to be mine

Be careful how you touch her for she'll awaken
And sleep's the only freedom that she knows
And when you look into her eyes you won't believe
The way she's always paying
For a debt she never owed
And a silent wind still blows
That she can only hear
So she goes...

Don't know who wrote the lyrics, don't feel like looking it up. It mighta been slick-talk R&B preacher-pimpin', but that's just my 21st century millenium thrust mechanism kicking in (for my own protection). More likely, WILDFLOWER WAS A LOVE SONG.

I remember MEN who used to play that song for me, and listen to it with me. The two that most quickly come to mind are both passed away now, their lives cut short. One from a brutal murder, the other from an equally brutal suicide. Actual MEN, now deceased. Much like love.




MIRANDA "Insane in the Membrane" JANE


At 9:58 AM, Blogger mr.kamoji said...

Welcome back MJ, I have missed your insight.

At 9:36 AM, Blogger mr.kamoji said...

Good to see you back MJ

At 12:32 PM, Blogger Muhammad said...

Damn This blog is tight! Keep on Keepin' On!
Lots of Love from South Africa.




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