British guys don't have to try very hard to be attractive. They look like they never bathe, spit profanity into innocent conversation and clearly don't believe in the best dental hygiene -- still, we American girls swoon. Even the toilet-hugging heroin addicts in "Trainspotting" seem sexy.
Knowing this, one would think Mike Skinner, aka The Streets, would have no problem turning out an album that is aurally appealing to an American audience. Sorry mate, but that assumption is bloody wrong.
As the newest release from Britain's belligerent hip-hop, pop-rock bad boy, "The Hardest Way To Make An Easy Living" is an aggressive attempt to mix soul-less R & B with hip-hop-rock that loses The Streets' well-established charm and swank that made him so strangely appealing in the past. It could more appropriately be named "The Worst Way to Make an Easy Follow-Up Album."
What's truly aggravating about this smudged-up album is that we know what The Streets is capable of -- 2004's "A Grand Don't Come for Free" was a fun, witty, bloody brilliant blast. Skinner's lyrics were original, compelling and fun; they also observed social situations with a nice mix of biting criticism and poignant humanity. It is anyone's guess how that seemingly effortless commentary somehow morphed into the seemingly forced verbal idiocy behind this latest endeavor.
There are a few redeeming parts to "The Hardest Way To Make an Easy Living," for sure. The music is upbeat and invigorating. The lyrics are intriguing and sometimes rhyme in surprising, clever ways. On the whole, it is diverting, humorous and, well, not at all boring. But the good aspects of the album just come across as less clever or bombastic versions of previous work done by Skinner and company. Honestly, it is not worth the time to salvage those few good parts from this cumulative train wreck of cacophonous junk.
The album starts off with "Prangin' Out," an ominous, dramatic oh-no-I'm-addicted-to-drugs! song that sounds a lot like Eminem at his most pissed off. Unfortunately, the chorus is too distracting and high-pitched to listen to without wincing. The next track "War of the Sexes" is incredibly catchy and well delivered but troublesome in other capacities. Starting with a Carl Sandburg "Daddy, what is war?" moment, it delves into the game-playing mating rituals of men and women with biting bitterness. Yep, it's clever and chuckle-worthy in parts ... and borderline offensive in others. While 2004's single "Fit But Don't You Know It" played with a similar female-male flirtation game, "War of the Sexes" loses the former song's levity and adopts an uncomfortable aggressiveness. Plus, the background music sounds like it belongs in "Space Jam."
"All Goes Out the Window" won me over with its piano-based simplicity, and calls to mind a great Streets song of the past, "Dry Your Eyes." The playground theme works well, and I nodded approvingly as the song waddled on. "Memento Mori" quickly smashed that contentment with its greed theme and consumerism-loving chorus, "Memento mori, memento mori / it's Latin and it says we all must die / I tried it for awhile but it was all boring sh*t / So I buy buy buy buy buy." It's in jest (I guess?), but that doesn't compensate for sounding ridiculous and simply annoying.
The album's promoted single "When You Wasn't Famous" starts with Skinner ranting that camera phones prevent him from "doing lines" in public, because people are able to snap his picture. It's new; it's edgy; it's different from most music today. But is it as good as The Streets' previous work about drugs, sex and unabashed hedonism? Well ... not really.
The Streets is experimental, as usual, on "The Hardest Way To Make an Easy Living," and that bravery should be praised, but the overwhelming shift to R & B overtones and sensitive-guy crooning doesn't fit with The Streets' usual in-your-face playfulness. It's different -- too different -- and most of the time I found myself tempted to fast forward through the cacophony to make the pain subside.
The Streets' newest endeavor in musical mayhem simply doesn't live up to past achievements. It sounds like a schizophrenic hybrid of Eminem, Boys II Men, Ali G and the boys from "Trainspotting." The main redemption of the album is that it is always interesting. Even though their music may have disappointingly evolved, they are still a bunch of British boys -- bad teeth and all.
