Covered in Songs, Part 1: Criteria

February 2016 was probably the most eventful Black History Month I've experienced, both good and bad. One of the lowlights was discovering multiple crappy acoustic covers of Beyonce' Formation and Rihanna's Work in one day. The highlight was finding that Black Twitter and Black Tumblr made the same discoveries and decided to clapback with trap covers of beloved white songs like The Beatle's Hey Jude, Adele's Hello, and Nickleback's Photograph.

You can find one of the worst Formation covers here. You can find a compilation of the trap covers here.

This got me wondering what constitutes a good cover. I posed a request to my Facebook friends: supply me with the finest covers you've heard. I was overwhelmed by the amount of submission.

After a month of "research," I am ready to supply you with a fine crop of cover songs. But first, I feel it mandatory to explore what makes one successful.

It is important to note that cover songs are the highest compliment another musician can pay another. You know, imitation is the greatest form of flattery. Unless you're one of the white men that bastardized Formation because you wanted to be included. I suppose some people cover songs to one-up the originator, too. Those are usually the crappier ones, yeah?

When remaking a song, you need to decide how you want to change it, if at all. I learned from the Food Network you get penalized for not transforming the ingredients. How are you going to present the song in a way we haven't heard yet? Most people go about this by changing the instrumental, either by reimagining the original production or changing the genre completely. There's also the acoustic route.

If you're going to bend the genre, it should be one that makes sense. Changing a rap song to a country song, you better have a good reason other than being controversial. Although, if a song has the right meter, almost anything can be turned into a rap. Granted the lyricist will usually add in their own lyrics to show off their creativity, but the cover still holds if he or she uses more than the hook.

Acoustic covers are meant to show off one of two things: the lyrics of the song or the singer's vocal range. Either slay the song melodically or have a funny enough voice to make it amusing. The same goes for covering songs without changing anything at all. Either be Whitney Houston singing And I Will Always Love You or don't attempt it at all. If your cover makes us forget the original and becomes the new standard, kudos.

For moderate singers and performers, the more unconventional your fresh take the better. Beatles covers are far too common. How will you make us love yours and forget the rest?

Lastly, the most crucial criteria is respect. Harping back to genre-bending having a reason, the source material shouldn't be so far mutated that no one can recognize it. It's important to pay homage. If you do a great job, maybe the original artist will even cover one of your songs.


You can look forward to my list of great covers this Thursday. It obviously won't be all inclusive, but it should be enough to wet your palate. Until then, jam on, my good friends (and associates).


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Hot Takes with Wacko, EP1

Hot Take - an opinion based on simplistic moralizing rather than actual thought. Not to be confused with a strong take. [Urban Dictionary]

Hot Take - a journalism term derisively used to describe a "piece of deliberately provocative commentary that is based almost entirely on shallow moralizing" in response to a news story, "usually written on tight deadlines with little research or reporting, and even less thought." [Wikipedia]

Welcome to a new segment where I take something random I think and try to make sense of it. Will this segment actually return? Who knows. Not me, that's for sure. I know hot takes are usually seen as a negative, at least from my brief research. Some might argue my blog is nothing but hot takes. This may be true, but these hot takes still make you think, beloved.

It's no secret that we're a people obsessed with the past. Our parents might say the current generation is the one always trying to reclaim the 90s, but no, there's more to it than that. Everyone like to reminisce and think of days they once knew or heard about as children. Throwbacks are a national pastime. I'm sure nearly everyone reading this has played the "What Decade Would You Want to Live in Besides This One?" game. Some people answer the groovy 70s. Some want to swing pass the Great Depression into the 40s. Other want to go back further and experience the glorious Roman Empire. (Talkin about Caesar!) Most of these people are white. Playing that game isn't as fun for people of color.

I say that to say this: Hollywood is racist and wants to make as many reenactment and period piece movies and television shows to keep out actors of color. Think about it. Most studios aren't going out of their way to colorblind cast actors in their reenactments. Even Drunk History stays true to color lines for the most part. I've never seen Titanic, but I hear the only color you see during those three hours is on a canvas and in the band as they play while the ship sinks. Or you could just watch this video. At best, minority actors and actress play bit parts or stereotypes because that's what they were seen as during the time. Or on the other side, you get slavery pieces. Those are the successful and popular reenactments we have to choose from, because lord forbid we're cast in films set in Ancient Egypt or anywhere else set in Northeastern Africa. Looking at you, Gods of Egypt.

Luckily, change is in the air. The 90s were a prominent time for black people in the media, and granted it's about an athlete's murder case, I'm happy American Crime Story started its first cycle with the OJ case. It gives me hope the Jimi Hendrix bio-flick didn't.

I couldn't end this hot take without mentioning Hamilton the Musical. It's proof that you can take historical figures, plug in multicultural actors and hip-hop, and have success. It's so successful, it's sold out until the end of the year. You know why it's sold out? Because there was a void for something of this caliber. The viewing public is ready for more diverse and daring works of art. So Hollywood, don't be afraid to take risks on us. We can tell our stories while telling yours. Hopefully you can do the same.

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And the President of 2020 is...

And now, another actual monologue from my upcoming show You're Not My Step-Mother and You Never Will Be! coming to a stage near you this Neveruary.

~~~

Listen, I love Kanye, adore him. He's a mastermind. Music as we know it wouldn't be what it is without him. So imagine what the States will be like if he actually runs for president in 2020. The entire world would never be the same!

Now, I hear you. Why would we want Kim Kardashian-West as our First Lady? Well, I'm personally hoping he divorces her, but don't allow her to dissuade you the same way Sarah Palin did. We can work around that package deal. I mean, wouldn't it be everything to have North and Saint West as the First Children. [gasp] Jay-Z could remix My President is Black again!

Stop giving me those crazy eyes! Yes, future President West is nuts. Bonkers. He's come after people when they weren't talking about him or his family. He's messed around with supporting Cosby. But look what he's been through. Such humble beginnings as an aspiring producer and rapper from the south side of Chicago. He made his way unto the Roc-A-Fella team. He survived a car crash that could have taken his life away. He survived the emotional trauma of his mother passing. He's almost done surviving his breakup with Amber Rose. No matter how big he gets, he's still an underdog. You want him to stay in his lane; the fashion industry wants him to stay in his lane. And granted, his latest collection seems like a ripoff, but that's the true sign of a businessman and mogul. He's literally doing better than selling water to a whale*.

All I'm saying is, I want Kanye to win more. He inspired me in high school. I wanted to be Kanye. In some ways I still do; I aspire to his levels of confidence and success. I want to see him go as far as possible. Because the farther he goes, the farther I can go. He's paving the way, and I shall follow him until I can make a path of my own!

That's how you sound when you talk about Trump, Trisha. Don't lie, you love his "humble" beginnings, too. You think if Trump can be as irreverent as he's been, as racist and unapologetic as he's been and succeed to the highest office in the land, so can you. You're pushing a man you know would be terrible for this country because you believe things will start going your way. He's convinced you to buy into his brand. He's spent close to two decades brainwashing you between all his scandals and time on television. And yes, he's entertaining. Damn, is he entertaining, but in the same way Jafar is entertaining, Trisha. In the same way that got Dubba Bush re-elected, Trisha. I'm sorry, but I just can't support that. Separate the character from the gotdamn person!

And if all you took away from this conversation is that I would actually want Kanye West to be my president, then you're denser than I thought.


~~~
Previews start in my living room next month.


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*Jay-Z lyric from U Don't Know, Blueprint 1 era

Hillary Dabbin for Votes

Likability shouldn't play this large a role in a presidential campaign, but unfortunately we tend to favor the candidates that can relate to us. Hillary Clinton and her team recognize this, and have been doing everything they can to capture the youth demographic. Luckily for many [sigh] millenials, we've been able to see through her bullshit.

By no means am I Hillary hater. I think she's a love lady and politician. But the way she's been campaigning towards the young adults of America is insulting. First there was the Vine.

It's like watching your mom trying to relate and keep you around, which ultimately pushes you away because you can't tell she's not genuine nor is she finding out what you're actually interested in.

But have no worries, kids. Hillary soon realized one of our super cool interests: dancing. And what dance is oh so popular right now? That's right, the whip and the nae nae. At least they were before she attempted the moves with Ellen Degeneres. It's almost as if she's trying to distract us from her actual platform. She's not talking to us.

That's when the unthinkable happened. Last night on Broad City, Ilana stumbled upon one of Hillary Clinton's campaign centers and joined the team. I appreciated the nods to the harsh critiques of Hillary ranging from sexist comments to demeaning questions. They were some jokes at her expense as well, but nothing we hadn't heard before. Then a moment happened that I thought was a dream. Hillary appeared before Abbi and Ilana, causing them to fangirl an obscene amount while Hillary stood basking in adoration. For the majority of the scene, the duo weren't even in the same shot as Hillary. It was only during Abbi and Ilana's awkward hug session with Clinton while she stared into the camera that I realized what happened: they'd been bought.

Granted, Abbi and Ilana have met Hillary prior to this episode in real life, and I have no doubt they are fans of her and possibly supporters of her campaign. But last night's episode of Broad City bordered on pandering from Hillary's appearance onward. Little about it felt natural. It's like the tone of the show shifted for five minutes. It made me feel sorry for the actresses more than anything.

Maybe this is being an adult: realizing that your favorite actors and tv shows have political alignments that differ from your own and learning how to properly react. I would like to think I would notice if the same was being done for Bernie - Lord knows I'd notice if it were for Trump - but I could possibly be blind behind my rose-colored glasses.

In any case, I appreciate Hillary's enthusiasm. I just don't think she's spent enough time marketing her policies to young voters in a way that they will understand and respect her. Perhaps this is because she knows what she wants to accomplish won't appeal to young voters. Perhaps she's done more than I realize; I'm only but so educated on all of her rounds. My only hope is that if Hillary is our Democratic nominee this election year she stops shucking and jiving for our votes and relates to us a personal level. ...or at least hire a running mate who can.


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Touch and Me

I'm not a very touchy person. Ask my friends; I give horrible hugs: leaving room for the holy spirit, never lingering for more than two seconds, occasionally hover handing. If I'm forced to hug outside my set parameters, best believe I'm squirming internally. If you're in my mental top 8, I probably won't touch you at all. We have an understanding deeper than physical contact.

It's hard to say where or when my aversion of touching originated. My family hugged me as a child, occasional kisses on the cheek, but my developing mind didn't think it was enough. Perhaps I watched too much Full House and Family Matters. Actually, I think I can pinpoint one factor. When I was four, I tried to kiss a girl on the playground and she slapped me. That was the day I also learned consent.

For the most part, I have no problem poking friends if I'm trying to crack a joke or make them uncomfortable. We all know I have no problem touching white people's hair. I just really prefer if they not return the favor. That definitely makes me a hypocrite, but my higher power is working on me. I honestly feel goosebumps popping up as I type (though it could just be the wind passing through my house).

Being so unfamiliar with touch in general, I'm able to take even the lightest brush against my shoulder the wrong way. In my mind, if you lay a finger on me, you either want to fight or make out. Obviously I know this isn't true, but you won't believe how long it took me to get rid of that black and white way of thinking. It's definitely gotten me in trouble plenty a nights in college. I'm honestly surprised I was never beat up.

There's a decent chance my preference is a result of my own psyche. Though I'm more open (especially through writing), I'm still a fairly guarded person. I won't come out and say certain things unless you ask the right question. Multiple walls and locks have been strategically placed in order to keep others at arm's reach. Perhaps I'm enclosed in a bubble like Jake Gyllenhaal so I don't fall apart on impact with another human being. But what if much like his character, I had been lied to. What if letting people close to you does more good than harm? Being vulnerable is gross, but perhaps it's necessary so you don't end up destroying yourself.

By no means is this an invitation to touch me at your disposal! However, I will be more open to natural interaction and won't spin move out of the way when you try to rest your hand on my shoulder. May my next group hug be the warmest feeling I've ever known.

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A-Z Flash Fiction 2

Six years ago today, I shared an in-class writing assignment under the banner A-Z Flash Fiction. Though it wasn't my best story, I did appreciate rereading it. Seeing as one post this week has already been inspired by my past work, why not keep up the trend? It's also a decent writing prompt. Let's see if we can make anything worthwhile.


Anywhere but her bedroom seemed like a great place to crash for the night.
Brody had already taken the bathroom floor or else she'd have taken the tub.
Candles lit her path through tired friends and too-comfortable associates.
Did the seance really summon a spirit, she had no clue, only that it called upon more guests than she cared for.

Elliot vanished at the mention of ghosts and still hadn't returned home.
Freezing temperatures and a sudden winter storm were the only thing keeping her from waiting on the porch.
Gross men with hands down their pants and spooning couples served as a reminder to wash dishes first thing in the morning.

Holding down the kitchen where four hooded gentlemen passed out on the table, cards and the Ouija board under them.
Irate not even a stiff chair was available to her, she checked the basement again.
Jenny and her crew of flunkies draped every piece of furniture.
Kennel of dogs, she thought, never welcome in my home again.
Lamenting gets you nowhere, Elliot had always told her.
Miracles happen everyday.

Nearly passing out on the steps, she ventured back to where she belonged.
Opening a can of worms seemed her only option if she wished to have a good night's sleep.
Peaking into her bedroom, she saw the teal outlined figure resting his head on the bed where she left him.
Questioning the legitimacy of her situation still, tiptoeing seemed a logical option.

Rising from playing dead, Elliot greeted her.
She froze in place, prompting him to believe she was mocking him.
Tired of the confusion, he went to embrace her.
Unions of marriage shouldn't stop just because death did them part.
Veils of emotion covered her face.
Weeping, Elliot vowed he'd never leave her side again.
Xenophobia is all too real in the ghost community, he explained.

"You and me for all eternity.
Zion can wait; you're my Serenity."


...I swear I didn't mean to write another sad story. Oh well.
Word.

Bechdel Testing

It's happened yet again, my dear friends (and associates). I've reached another block in my creative writing, so I decided to turn to my younger self for inspiration. Back when I had no problem inspiring myself, seventeen year old Charles wrote a stage play inspired by Shawn Carter's Heart of the City. It was called Heart of the City, because originality. However, I noticed something disturbing. Of the three female characters, none of them lived for themselves. They all had a love interest. Worst yet, I purposely made a scene for the women to shine, and they talked about their relationships the entire time.

I can't blame myself too much, though I will. Gender politics were but a blip on the radar in 2006/2007, let alone to a high school student questioning his sexuality at an all boys institution. Though I was becoming more comfortable with homosexuality, I wasn't ready to represent it in my work. Apparently this meant stripping women of their independence as well. Even the one strong female character that starts off questioning male leadership eventually succumbs to her interest in a friend. Obviously this isn't to say women shouldn't have relationship in media, but it shouldn't be their sole purpose. Besides that, I think teenage Charles was on the right track. Oddly enough, it felt like a Boondocks/Tyler Perry joint venture. That would be fun to watch.

I'd like to think I've become more conscious of the issues of the world and work towards representing everyone in my work, but I've come to realize I still focus on men in my writing. Of course women are present and play a major role while passing the Bechdel Test, but besides a handful of college short stories, I haven't even thought about using a woman as the protagonist. Lesbian best friend, sure, but rarely the hero. I want to blame it on gay-man-vanity, but I think it may be deeper than that.

I question if I respect women like I think I do. I must, because I've allowed my growing feministic ways to dissuade me from rap songs I loved as a child. But then why don't I feature them more in my work? It's almost fair to say that beside my time in high school, women have comprised most of my friends - often being the friends I'm closest with.

My only solace is that I stray away from female protagonist because I don't fully understand their struggles or how they think. I've been learning about their sexual experiences and relationships and menstrual cycles. Though, I have to admit, I may have been listening to them more like a white journalist focused on an exposé in a predominantly black neighborhood than a friend. Damn subconscious and your ulterior motives.

As a man, I shall continue to apologize for being the worst while making strides to better represent and relate to my sisters in humanity. May the Bechdel Test succeed in improving the passing percentage in Hollywood, by Susan B Anthony's glasses! ...that's what we're supposed to shout, right?*


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*NEXT TIME ON CHARLES APOLOGIZES TO WOMEN: black and white feminism. Are we really all in this together? With Special Guest Leslie Jones!**

**Leslie Jones, the guy down the street. Not the hilarious SNL cast member. What, Leslie can be a man's name too?!

Pass/Fail

Wentworth Miller, of Prison Break and The Flash, half black/half white.

Since I learned about it in middle school, I've lived my life according to the One Drop rule: if you have even one drop of black, hispanic, asian, or native american blood, you aren't white; you're part of the struggle. However, I caught myself being hypocritical. I wasn't extending the rule to people who passed as white.

For some, passing as white may seem to have unlimited benefits - and there are benefits - but there are drawbacks as well. Consider it the ethnic equivalent of being bi: you exist as a legitimate person but catch flack from both sides.

Imagine you're a girl from an upper-middle class upbringing with a vaguely Hispanic last name but with a - for lack of a better term - fair complexion, so people think nothing of it. You hardly bring up your Puerto Rican heritage, let alone speak Spanish. There's hardly any need to. Until you repeatedly hear everyone call you white. Until being white becomes being basic, a default. And sure, you may have started playing up your love for Qdoba, but you've become generally interested in your family's history and background. You meet up with your cousins who don't pass and spend time in Puerto Rico any opportunity you get. Still, people still scoff at you, as if the 1/4-Irish-Dutch-Greek-French is all you are and will ever be in their eyes. The jokes they make about your UGG boots start to hurt and you wonder if people will ever respect all of you.

Or perhaps you're a guy who can pass for anything: asian, black, hispanic, native american, white, and everything in between. In honesty, you have a little bit of everything. You are the American mixing pot that the future will be, but you're stuck in the present and people are ignorant. Your hispanic friends call you mixed, black friends call you mulatto, and your white friends call you "other." You can never be sure if they're just being safe or making fun of you to your face (except your black friends; you're aware they have no chill). You live your life explaining that you aren't defined by your background but you are proud of it, and for some reason this is confusing to more people than it should be. You wonder if you will ever be able to stop fighting.

Ultimately, I think part of the ridicule comes from jealousy. To be able to code-switch your ethnicity in a society that looks down upon anyone that isn't white is a gift. But it can also be seen as a person not being appreciative of who they are, as if they aren't being true to themselves. The best way I knew how to cope with this was by making jokes at their expense.

It wasn't until I saw the tired expressions in my friends' eyes that I realized what I was doing to them. Joking around like that was something I learned from an all boys school in the hood, but not everyone plays the same way. By now, I've nearly trained myself to recognize my friends for all they are comprised of, especially if they wish for it to be acknowledged.

Obviously I'm not trying to blacksplain*, simply wishing to be an advocate for others. I heard teamwork makes the dream work. I like to think we're working towards MLK's more and more each day.


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*blacksplain - like mansplaining or whitesplaing but when a black person tries to explain something for a different race or ethnic group.