I. Wherein the Author Discusses the Cultural Impact
of Sir Mix-A-Lot's Magnum Opus
of Sir Mix-A-Lot's Magnum Opus
Released in 1992 on the Def American label, Sir Mix-A-Lot's third album, Mack Daddy, contained a song that would become a cultural touchstone for a generation. That song was "Baby Got Back". It spent four weeks at number one on the Billboard charts, and ended up as the year's second-biggest single, behind Boyz II Men's "End of the Road". But the song has more power than it's sales hint at.
At the time, there was much consternation and discussion over the song's message. Sir Mix-A-Lot deftly touched upon issues of race and sex in a manner so flippant as to dismiss any criticisms. Did his song objectify women or empower them? The video provided some clues, but for the most part, was inscrutable. Were the flashing words an effort to unconsciously indoctrinate the viewer into a world of large butts? And what of the flying fruits? Sir Mix-A-Lot sent the world a cryptogram, and in the giant yellow mounds, we all saw asses.
Perhaps the peak of Sir Mix-A-Lot's success was when he received the 1993 Grammy Award for Best Rap Solo Performance. He was never able to follow up on his biggest hits, despite efforts such as Chief Boot Knocka and Return of the Bumpasaurus. Some might look at such a story and declare the good Sir a one-hit wonder, doomed to be an answer to a Trivial Pursuit question and a segment on I Love the '90s.
Of course, for a time, the song was all of these things. But it had made its mark on the malleable minds of the children of the early '90s. Although many so-called "novelty" songs from that period are only remembered with a knowing chuckle and delight in their kitsch factor, something about "Baby Got Back" was so powerful that it was remembered fondly in a completely unironic way. And admiration brings imitation.
The most basic form of imitation in the musical world is the cover. And there is at least one cover of "Baby Got Back" out there. More fascinating are those who have used the song as a jumping-off point for their own expression. One of the most infamous examples of this is "Baby Got Book", which takes the sexualized beat and form of "Baby Got Back" and recontextualizes it as a Christian hymn. A personal favorite is the reimagining of the song as a piece of 16th-18th century prose poetry1, which shows the tender heart at the center of the song. An excerpt:
1. This site has been down as of late. I would recommend consulting Google's cache if this is still the case.
At the time, there was much consternation and discussion over the song's message. Sir Mix-A-Lot deftly touched upon issues of race and sex in a manner so flippant as to dismiss any criticisms. Did his song objectify women or empower them? The video provided some clues, but for the most part, was inscrutable. Were the flashing words an effort to unconsciously indoctrinate the viewer into a world of large butts? And what of the flying fruits? Sir Mix-A-Lot sent the world a cryptogram, and in the giant yellow mounds, we all saw asses.
Perhaps the peak of Sir Mix-A-Lot's success was when he received the 1993 Grammy Award for Best Rap Solo Performance. He was never able to follow up on his biggest hits, despite efforts such as Chief Boot Knocka and Return of the Bumpasaurus. Some might look at such a story and declare the good Sir a one-hit wonder, doomed to be an answer to a Trivial Pursuit question and a segment on I Love the '90s.
Of course, for a time, the song was all of these things. But it had made its mark on the malleable minds of the children of the early '90s. Although many so-called "novelty" songs from that period are only remembered with a knowing chuckle and delight in their kitsch factor, something about "Baby Got Back" was so powerful that it was remembered fondly in a completely unironic way. And admiration brings imitation.
The most basic form of imitation in the musical world is the cover. And there is at least one cover of "Baby Got Back" out there. More fascinating are those who have used the song as a jumping-off point for their own expression. One of the most infamous examples of this is "Baby Got Book", which takes the sexualized beat and form of "Baby Got Back" and recontextualizes it as a Christian hymn. A personal favorite is the reimagining of the song as a piece of 16th-18th century prose poetry1, which shows the tender heart at the center of the song. An excerpt:
If one were to express one's feelings about the quality, shape, and – to be blunt – size of the area of anatomy belonging to those of the fairer sex, an area that I will forthwith call to question, and if that aforementioned "one" were indeed myself, then I would have to hastily bring it to any curious party's attention that this desired area of discussion, the hindquarters to speak it quickly, could – and yes should – be likened closer to a giraffe than a lap dog, closer to a behemoth than a deer tick. On this matter, no utterance of falsehood shall ever pass my lips.Every cultural movement has a dark side, however. The obesity epidemic in this country may be traced back to Sir Mix-A-Lot's glamourization of a larger female; his original message may have been for a woman to "pack much back" without increasing her risk of diabetes or hypertension, but over the years, this crucial need for moderation has been lost. This provides a sobering example of the power an artist has over the public. Thus far, the controversial Mix-A-Lot/obesity link has not been proven, but it certainly warrants study.
1. This site has been down as of late. I would recommend consulting Google's cache if this is still the case.
II. Wherein the Author Discusses the Current
Whereabouts of Sir Mix-A-Lot
Whereabouts of Sir Mix-A-Lot
Sir Mix-A-Lot was born Anthony Ray on August 12, 1963, in Seattle, Washington. Upon reaching adulthood, he had a strong interest in hip-hop. Unfortunately, Seattle had no hip-hop scene to speak of at the time, so he was forced to create one from whole cloth. He created his own record label and worked to promote himself. All of this work paid off, and he was signed to Def American Records.
His first two albums were successes that have since been forgotten, as the massive presence of "Baby Got Back" prevents one from looking further back in his career. But both albums went platinum and performed well on the charts. Then he released Mack Daddy, and it proved to be a cultural watershed moment, as detailed in the first section of this post.
Since 1993, Mr. Ray has been active in the musical world, as well as the newspaper world for a brief stint as an advice columnist. He has released 3 solo albums (as previously alluded to), as well as involving himself with a few collaborative projects. The most exciting of these was SUbSET, a collaboration between Mr. Ray and The Presidents of the United States of America. The similarity of their two careers is striking: Both are Seattle artists who achieved one-hit wonder status and found themselves unable to regain the spotlight, despite continuing to produce music. Unfortunately, no music from this collaboration was ever officially released. Diligent searchers may be able to find SUbSET songs on their preferred file-sharing service, but then again, they might not.
As our cultural fascination with "Baby Got Back" has remained strong throughout the years, Mr. Ray has often been asked to appear on television programs to discuss his work. Many of these shows focus on his one-hit wonder status. Occasionally, it is more of a "Where Are They Now?" production, something I find a bit insulting. It is as though mainstream culture sends a search party for former celebrities drowning in a sea of obscurity, fishes them out for all to see, and promptly tosses them back into the waters.
His first two albums were successes that have since been forgotten, as the massive presence of "Baby Got Back" prevents one from looking further back in his career. But both albums went platinum and performed well on the charts. Then he released Mack Daddy, and it proved to be a cultural watershed moment, as detailed in the first section of this post.
Since 1993, Mr. Ray has been active in the musical world, as well as the newspaper world for a brief stint as an advice columnist. He has released 3 solo albums (as previously alluded to), as well as involving himself with a few collaborative projects. The most exciting of these was SUbSET, a collaboration between Mr. Ray and The Presidents of the United States of America. The similarity of their two careers is striking: Both are Seattle artists who achieved one-hit wonder status and found themselves unable to regain the spotlight, despite continuing to produce music. Unfortunately, no music from this collaboration was ever officially released. Diligent searchers may be able to find SUbSET songs on their preferred file-sharing service, but then again, they might not.
As our cultural fascination with "Baby Got Back" has remained strong throughout the years, Mr. Ray has often been asked to appear on television programs to discuss his work. Many of these shows focus on his one-hit wonder status. Occasionally, it is more of a "Where Are They Now?" production, something I find a bit insulting. It is as though mainstream culture sends a search party for former celebrities drowning in a sea of obscurity, fishes them out for all to see, and promptly tosses them back into the waters.
III. Wherein the Author Begins to Ramble,
And Loses Focus
And Loses Focus
Another of Sir Mix-A-Lot's collaborations was a song on the Judgement Night soundtrack, entitled "Freak Momma", which was done with Mudhoney, a Seattle "grunge" band. The Judgement Night soundtrack was full of such collaborations, pairing rappers with rockers. To Sir Mix-A-Lot, this sort of thing was old hat: On his first album, released in 1988, he did a cover of Black Sabbath's "Iron Man" with the Seattle metal band Metal Church. It could be said that this sort of thinking led to Korn, Limp Bizkit and any other rap metal band, but let's not put the blame for something like that squarely on Sir Mix-A-Lot's head. It was bound to happen, and just because he beat the trend does not make him responsible. Besides, "let he who is without a Korn album cast the first stone", or something like that.2
I do like the idea of collaborative soundtracks. One of my favorite albums is the original soundtrack to Spawn: the Movie. Its central conceit was slightly different than Judgement Night's: Instead of pairing rappers and rockers, it put metalheads and electronic artists together, with excellent results. Best known is probably Filter and the Crystal Method doing "(Can't You) Trip Like I Do", essentially a metal remix of "Trip Like I Do" from the Crystal Method's Vegas. The most brilliant combination was Slayer and Atari Teenage Riot, probably the two most aggressive bands in their respective genres. "(No Remorse) I Wanna Die" combined the high-BPM, male-female yelling attack of ATR with the extreme thrashing guitars and murderous intent of Slayer. Perfect for a movie about a CIA assassin who dies, goes to Hell, and agrees to lead Satan's armies against Heaven if he gets to go back to Earth to see his wife first.
At this point, I could start a lengthy discussion of movie adaptations of comics, or Todd McFarlane's low-level douchebag-ness, but I seem to have completely lost the thread of the post, so I'll stop. Which is probably for the best.
2. Yes, I do own Follow the Leader. And I still enjoy the first two-thirds or so, although the end drags (somewhat intentionally, I think). While their music has been somewhat uninspired (read: it tends to sound the same) as of late, they are starting to lash out at the major record companies in very public ways. See their "Y'all Want a Single" and "Twisted Transistor" videos for what I'm talking about. Hopefully, some MTV watching kids see these videos and have a small epiphany regarding the ways that major corporations manipulate bands' images to sell records. But probably not.
I do like the idea of collaborative soundtracks. One of my favorite albums is the original soundtrack to Spawn: the Movie. Its central conceit was slightly different than Judgement Night's: Instead of pairing rappers and rockers, it put metalheads and electronic artists together, with excellent results. Best known is probably Filter and the Crystal Method doing "(Can't You) Trip Like I Do", essentially a metal remix of "Trip Like I Do" from the Crystal Method's Vegas. The most brilliant combination was Slayer and Atari Teenage Riot, probably the two most aggressive bands in their respective genres. "(No Remorse) I Wanna Die" combined the high-BPM, male-female yelling attack of ATR with the extreme thrashing guitars and murderous intent of Slayer. Perfect for a movie about a CIA assassin who dies, goes to Hell, and agrees to lead Satan's armies against Heaven if he gets to go back to Earth to see his wife first.
At this point, I could start a lengthy discussion of movie adaptations of comics, or Todd McFarlane's low-level douchebag-ness, but I seem to have completely lost the thread of the post, so I'll stop. Which is probably for the best.
2. Yes, I do own Follow the Leader. And I still enjoy the first two-thirds or so, although the end drags (somewhat intentionally, I think). While their music has been somewhat uninspired (read: it tends to sound the same) as of late, they are starting to lash out at the major record companies in very public ways. See their "Y'all Want a Single" and "Twisted Transistor" videos for what I'm talking about. Hopefully, some MTV watching kids see these videos and have a small epiphany regarding the ways that major corporations manipulate bands' images to sell records. But probably not.
