Dear Beyonce -- No. Stop it. Love: Jaime

Grievance #1:

You completely ripped off Des'ree's Kissing You from Baz Luhrmann's Romeo + Juliet and laid your prosaic lyrics and vocals on top ("You are my doctor, counselor, provider, professor, my everything" -- Are you looking for a boyfriend or a life coach? Who wrote these lyrics -- a lovesick eighth grader?). Not only did you cover the song in a way that makes the deaf plead for mercy, but you had the flat-out gall to steal the track. Big hair, backside and bank account doesn't make you exempt from following copyright law, Miss B.

Grievance #2: You coupled aforementioned stolen track with an insipid rehash of Herb Ritts' smoldering video for Chris Isaak's Wicked Game?! My God, woman -- you're like a Mongol raping and pillaging her way through pop culture.


You lolling around on a beach in black-and-white? Not even marginally interesting. Chris Isaak and Helena Christensen, however?

Well, a couple of years ago -- it inspired me to write the following:

Wicked Game by Chris Isaak.

First thing that pops into that pop-culture-sugar-caffeine-booze-and-sex addled firecracker you call a brain is what? Helena Christensen rolling around on a beach half-naked with Chris Isaak. Right? Right.

Do you even stop to think about the song or the words or what they mean? Fuck no! What are you? Old? Impotent? Asexual?! Helena Christensen is half naked! With Chris Isaak! On a beach! In black and white! It was sexy, it was steamy and it hypnotized you to believe, "Hey! I could have smoldering sex like that too!" Hate to break it to you, but no-one could have sex that hot. Doing so would cause a global heatwave which would incinerate us all.

Anyway....

I managed to tear myself away from the visuals and actually sat down and paid attention to the song. Am I old, impotent or asexual? What are you, kidding?! I'm me. Anyway, you know what I discovered? Isaak wrote an amazing song. It's got this real sensual, languorous vibe to it. Slow and seductive. Like sonic foreplay. So, this got me thinking. Sex -- it's all rhythmic, right? I'm not talking the 'rhythm method' (which, by the way, is complete bullshit, so before doing construction, make sure you wear a hard-hat, fellas). I'm talking about a natural groove which you sort of fall into. The way two bodies move in perfect syncopation to feel every last touch and taste. Music creates motion; motion creates emotion and emotion creates a scream so loud, the neighbors down the street complain.

Can you imagine tapping into this rhythm? Transferring it over to big, fat bass strings? There's something real primal about the bass. The way its urgency kinda grabs you and resonates deep within the belly of your beast. It's a pretty incredible thing. Tapping into it might just unlock the mysteries of the universe....or create one helluva great track.

Lyrically, Wicked Game is real simple and real honest. It starts off with, "The world was on fire/No one could save me but you." We've all been in the throes of lust. You say you haven't, you're either lying or....yeah, you're just a dirty liar. It's a fire that nothing can extinguish. You can take a dozen cold showers and picture Margaret Thatcher naked on a cold day as much as you want, but sooner or last -- the sparks are gonna ignite again. It's human nature. Don't even try to deny it.
The next line of the song, however, is what gets me. Hits me like a first kiss and a vicious left hook -- "It's strange what desire will make foolish people do." Forget fools -- it's strange what desire will make anyone do. Logic goes on hiatus and you can justify pretty much anything -- spending your entire paycheck on pink roses, getting their name tattooed somewhere a judge could see it or getting piss drunk, standing outside her home and serenading her with a personalized version of AC/DC's You Shook Me All Night Long. Desire makes you crazy...but being crazy isn't always a bad thing. Sometimes, it helps remind you that you're alive and that's a pretty incredible feeling.

All that being said, Miss Knowles --

I'm glad that Sony BMG slapped your ass with an injunction. I'm glad the track was pulled from your album and the video was pulled from rotation, but above all -- I really hope Des'ree covers one of your songs and sings the hell out of it. Just like Tina Turner did for CCR's Proud Mary and Aretha did for Otis Redding's Respect. Oh and in case there's any sort of confusion, I'm not comparing you to CCR or Redding. They're talented, you see.

And because I don't want to leave that nasty rehashed taste in your mouth, here's a sweet little pop gem courtesy of Gwen Stefani and Akon. I dig this track because it sounds like Stefani's finally going back to her No Doubt roots.