Boom Box 2000
Boom Box 2000
[Orange Twin; 2002]
Rating: 2.4
The Orange Twin website states that, "Boom Box 2000 challenges the boudaries [sic] of what may otherwise be
known as music." I guess that's one way of describing their sound. Another would be to say that this is
easily the worst hip-hop album I've ever heard. If Boom Box 2000's goal was to make an album so horrible
that it exposed post-millennial hip-hop as a vapid, disposable art form, they should at least take comfort
in achieving the first half of their goal. On the songs that have raps, which are fortunately only a few,
their lyrics are weak and completely out of sync with one another. Their production sounds as if it was
created with a $10 Pic n' Save Casio after a week-long nitrous oxide binge.
Unless you're the type that likes to slow down and laugh when you see a fatal car accident, there is
absolutely nothing redeeming about this album. The "put-two-culturally-naïve-Asian-kids-in-a-room-and-let-them-make-a-hip-hop-album"
concept is needless at best. At worst, it displays a racist undercurrent that belittles the considerable
accomplishments of Asians in hip-hop and is comparable to the blackface comedy of the early 20th century.
The fact that this was released by an indie-rock label that has never even dabbled in hip-hop before makes
it all the more offensive and irritating. If you can imagine Def Jam contracting Trick Daddy and Ol' Dirty
Bastard to record an emo album where they whined about their trust funds and little white dicks, then perhaps
you can understand just how unlistenable and tasteless this mess is.
And amazingly, the product is just as bad as the concept. "Boom Box 2000," which is the album's first song,
comes closest to actually approximating hip-hop. With its over-the-top string sample and repetition of, "Boom
Box... Boom Box," rightfully skewers hip-hop's self-aggrandizing streak. But the criticism is strictly
superficial, and is delivered in such an intentionally horrible manner that it loses any of the power or
humor it might have harbored. On "Drunk and High" they also delve into a subject that's ripe for scrutiny
(i.e. the glorification of drugs and alcohol in hip-hop), but as they scream, "Get drunk and high," you find
yourselves digging into the couch cushions in search of that elusive crack rock to put you out of your misery.
There are a few bright spots to be found. Clocking in at three seconds, "Treats" is the best song on the
album by a long shot. While "Taste Buds," which stretches a full 20 seconds, comes in a close second. The
only vaguely witty lyric on the entire album is during "Girls We Like" when one of them (maybe) mocks Eminem's
homophobia, singing, "I once knew I girl I used to like, until she punched me in the dick.../ I called her a
faggot 'cause I thought it meant jerk." The whole album clocks in at a little less than 24 minutes, and
I'd like to believe that Boom Box became so disgusted with themselves that they abandoned the project before
they did any further damage.
It's a shame this album was so godawful. With everything from the absurdity of the commercial studio gangsta
to the relentless and sometimes pointless "independent as fuck" posturing of underground emcees, hip-hop is a
giant target for satirical spanking. While Boom Box does have some of the subjects right, they're so
painfully devoid of talent, and have such little understanding of the culture they're mocking, that their
satire falls utterly flat. If you want a good laugh at hip-hop's expense, rent Fear of a Black Hat or
CB4, but whatever you do, don't get fooled by this bullshit.
-Sam Chennault, August 9th, 2002