Humpjones

Behind the Music: The Making of “Keep it Moist”, Part 2

Posted Oct 27, 2007 9 comments

In the last installment of this meaningless little series focused on the preparation process: how does a rap mutant get ready to record one of the most unhinged sex albums of all time? For the second part, I’m going to address one of the most important factors for any hip hop production work—the drugs that make it all possible.

Are You High Enough to Be Professional?

That’s not some cute joke question.  That’s the cold hard reality us entertainers need to grapple with, every day.  Our entire Life Work depends upon being happier, smarter and crazier than the people we entertain.  Of course, pulling off all three at once would be superhuman—something only truly fit mutants, like Godforbid, could ever hope to attain.  For the most part, you’re going for what we call the Meatloaf Trifecta: yes, folks, I am saying that two out of three is not particularly bad.

I made it from Kindergarten to High School Diploma strictly off information I’d picked up from watching public television.  So it’s not especially hard to fake being smarter than your audience, but it’s also a lot of work. Frankly, I don’t recommend it.  All it takes is one good question and your mask of authority will fall off and smash into pieces on the stage floor.  At which point you better be ready to moonwalk offstage, baby. It’s much, much easier to go for the other two razor sharp edges of the Iron Triangle: happy and crazy.  With the right substances, you can attain both with 100% reliability.

I honestly recommend having whiskey on hand for recording sessions.  If you take more than 3 shots, you’re being dumb, but a single dose of whiskey can cure just about anything long enough to get some good takes finished.  There’s a reason so many singers keep that stuff handy, right?  Just be sure to remember the two Polar Ossipits: there’s Robert Plant drunk as a God onstage in front of thousands, and then there’s Axl Rose, wasted and trying to pick up a 17-year old at a party.  Make damn sure you know what side of that equation you’re on, at all times.

You also need to be healthy, at a bare minimum.  Ideally, of course, you’re not healthy per se, just literally unkillable, like Keith Richards or Marlon Brando.  Most nomadic primates reading this already know the tricks of the trade—chewing on raw licorice, downing that fizzy Emergen-C stuff, stealing powdered ginger from chain grocery stores.  Once you’re selling out arenas, you can get an assistant to inject vitamins and minerals into your jugular and skip eating altogether—but don’t count your chickens until the acid wears off, because most of them aren’t even real.  The only person who’s going to keep you alive and make sure you survive being a Rock Star is you. 

The Other Purpose of Drugs

Everyone knows it: weed makes you mad deep and shit. There is no denying the self-reflection power of marijuana.  (...and just in case there is, you can always upgrade to LSD.)

Humpasaur Jones is, for lack of a less cynical term, psychedelic sex rap aimed directly at horny people who make bad life decisions.  This is pure demographics, I won’t pretend any of this is some kind of....artistic vision. We just sat down and crunched the numbers and concluded that the only thing people like more than eating, is fucking. I realize that’s about as ground-breaking as Belladonna faking an orgasm, but bear with me here. 

The process of recording will inevitably expose flaws.  I realized that probably 1/3 of the lyrics on Keep it Moist were utter horseshit, derivative and generic filler content that needed to be killed.  Another problem is that us rappers tend to write one single verse over one single beat at a time—but when you look at the album as a total artifact, you suddenly realize you’re repeating yourself and wandering off topic and....wow, I’m sorry, I must be blazed out of my fucking mind. Nobody cares about this.  What am I doing?

Jesus Christ.

Filed in: The Music

Next entry: Sex Science 3030: Intelligent Design for Stupid Monkeys

Previous Entry: George Carlin Drops Science on Sex in America