Every once in a while, a song comes along and changes your life. For me, and for 2010, B.o.B.'s "Don't Let Me Fall" may be that track.
Before I explain why, let me backtrack. Summer of 2004 (remember, I'm late to everything, be kind), I was living in a slightly disastrous group house in New Haven, trying (and sort of failing) to learn to cook, and feeling kind of intense about culture but in a sort of naive way--I spent a lot of time doing things like watching all three extended editions of the Lord of the Rings in a row. And then, by accident, I downloaded a track that I thought was...well, something else. I don't remember now. Instead, it turned out to be Cee-Lo Green's "Die Trying." I don't know if a track's been more important to me, ever. By that I don't mean that it's the best song I've ever heard. But it radically expanded my understanding of what hip-hop could be (yes, even beyond OutKast--the friend I lived with that summer and I can do "Ms. Jackson" with me rapping the verses and him singing the hooks, if you get up in the right space), and of the power of the interstitial space between rap and pop, something that's become an obsession of my criticism. The wordplay was simultaneously intelligent and vulnerable: "the Source couldn't find any microphones to rate me" set a new standard of articulate plaintiveness for me, a simultaneous hipster shrug and admission of a deep wound.
I don't know that another song can ever have that impact for me again. But "Don't Let Me Fall" is an amazing song:
Guy's flow is tight. He's got some of that Eminem-like syncopation in the first verse, especially on the "So call me whenever you want / Call me whatever you'd like / But let's get one thing straight / You know my name, so I run this town / When I'm on this mic...Rack 'em up, lock 'em down / Dominoes, then I go / Where my story goes." It's a modern, honed skill set with some nicely old fashioned twists. I like the clarity and soar of the piano at the beginning, I like the whole The Great Adventures of Bobby Ray framing device, I like the sharp, crisp aesthetic. The non-Kanye emotional register, that bravado based on talent and paired with wonder is pretty refreshing, too. This all feels like a major step forward, an important part of a progression. And it's marvelous.