Public saturation of Lil Wayne's fourth album in his Tha Carter series is still on high, it could sell somewhere between 700,000 and 850,000 copies in its first week of availability, but it's already figuring to be something a lot of folks want to completely forget about a disc loaded with "canned retread" already.
So far, when it comes to reviews of the Tha Carter IV, Billboard is the closest to providing a step-by-step guide for "How to Love" the inner-workings album that, by most accounts, was not helped by delays, provides better moments for the guests than Weezy himself, and is filled with clunker tracks and stupid rhymes about Burger King. Pretty much all of the reviews are couched in disclaimers about how great Lil Wayne has been throughout his career -- and I'll agree with that general sentiment -- but it still doesn't escape yet another general sentiment that we're hearing "an album that is dotted with reminders of better days." LA Weekly's Ben Westhoff has even outlined the album's 60 worst lines.
And yes, it's also dotted with some stinkers, but which one is truly the worst? We think we know.
Boston Globe: Wayne makes no attempt to be inventive. "Megaman'' sounds like
"Ransom,'' a three-year-old throwaway that was used more to introduce
ballad, "How to Love," that sounds like the work of a milquetoast
soft-rock band with a shaky lead singer.
SPIN: ...on the methodical "Nightmares of the Bottom," he sounds a bit like a
child affecting daddy's voice while calling in sick from school.
The biggest whiff comes with "President Carter," an Oval Office fantasy
that tingles with promise... Instead of punching the gas, he spins his
wheels. His verses are nothing
more than roundabout boasts, rote tough talk and a few malformed policy
initiatives. "I change the stars on the flag into crosses," he raps.
"So now, instead of pledge, we pray." Then he congratulates himself with
a stonery giggle.
Grab a listen to all of those and see which one wrinkles your nose the heaviest.
Actually, based upon the level of disappointment dished from most corners, I was expecting much worse. Perhaps the Washington Post has spent too much time near the actual Capitol Hill influence to enjoy "President Carter," and sure "How to Love" is teeth-rottingly sweet, but that's what it aims to be.
Naw, the real offender in this bunch is undeniably "How to Hate." It's cold-hearted while still remaining lukewarm. This is about as angry as we get when we get cut off in the Publix parking lot, not when there's a life paradigm shift. It only gets as clever as "I guess I'm single for the night/ and you can sit right on my middle finger for the night." Neither T-Pain nor Lil Wayne brought more than the bare minimum for this mid-tempo yawner, and it shows.
Which of the lesser-loved moments have we omitted here?