Someone tell me this is a bad joke. Please.
After I got past the giggles of being told “Canibus has a new album out”, I sought it out on the interwebs and went from playfully surprised to somewhat sad and concerned in three stages.
Stage 1: That Cover
Remember when the DeLorean was considered a futuristic car and Casio calculator watches were popping? Before Photoshop, before Corel. When all you needed for a cover was a Polaroid of you and your DJ posted up in matching outfits against a brick wall with graffiti on it. Add some cut out letters spelling out the title of your album. Xerox. Done. This cover is from the day after that, courtesy of the first guy to purchase a PC and mastered the high-tech art of MS Paint Version 0.01 Beta. If Canibus has homies and they nodded like “Yo, that shit right there is fire son! Word!”, then they’re probably Gotty’s™ age and/or thoroughly doped out on pain killers, cat pee and unleaded petrol.
Stage 2: The Title
Seriously son. Really? “Melatonin Magik.” That sounds like some nuclear grade dishwashing liquid, but definitely not something I’d willingly confess to having heard. Note to whoever the managing/A&R person may be: packaging is supposed to be appetizing. Or at least palpable. If I were a Canibus fan, I’d shoplift the CD and send an anonymous donation to Best Buy for the value plus tax. That way I don’t have to end up with the cover or have “Canibus Melatonin Magik” on my credit card statement. The wife will think I’m back on drugs or worse, a Canibus fan.
Stage 3: The Tracklisting
Oh, what, you thought you were going to get the wrapper and no candy? Maybe it’s just me, but after seeing the cover and then going through this list, I wanted to find a charity for whatever infliction your boy ‘Bis has.
Apparently, it’s known as PTWS, Post-Traumatic Warlab Stress. Or Track 6 on Melatonin Magik. Either way, I lost all interest in listening to this album and have resolved to join the crowd in ignoring that it even exists.
Melatonin Magik, in stores now.