I was holding off publishing my first blog post. I’ve always thought the first post of a personal blog should be a bombshell, or at least be like the opening track to Yeezus: Arresting, slightly offensive, but in the end funny and somehow endearing, and parting with an aftertaste of the artist’s vulnerability and emotional instability lingering in the listener’s mouth.
Of course, that kind of pressure can be the cock block to end all cock blocks for a writer, so I decided to revolt and intentionally make this post horrible instead.
Which, in a way, is the recurring theme of my artistic career.
So, without further ado, allow me to kick off my blog with a song review.
Overall, Scatman John succeeds on the musical front with a catchy, energetic melody and a virtuosic vocal performance. Aesthetically, the collage of musicians and dancers edited in rapid-fire cuts keeps the video stimulating and maintains a feel-good party vibe to the end. As a frontman, Scatman John manages to come off as charismatic and faintly creepy at the same time, like a bachelor uncle reciting all of “Baby Got Back” verbatim on the dance floor at a family wedding reception.
My only critique of the music video is Scatman John’s rather pompous declaration of himself as a scatman. Clearly, he possesses skill in the craft, but if that be the case he shouldn’t have to say it. Such titles cannot be claimed but earned. If he truly is a scatman, audiences will reward him with the honorific title in due time with or without his prodding. I encourage Scatman John to exercise greater humility in his songwriting. If he does that he may have a rich musical career ahead of him.