Review Summary: A sobering album.
I was listening to Pitbull in the car with my sexy wife. We had the AC on, which is the universal language for she wanted me. Nothing was gonna happen of course, cause we were driving with our kids, but the romance was in the air magic. It was also literally in the air, cause as Pitbull did his hungry guard dog growl-talk raps, it brought us parents to a state of temporary ecstasy. Nothing could be sexier in this moment, and I imagined ourselves back in Mexico drinking alchohols every day. Indeed, for a minute of pure bliss, Pitbull brings the pussy pounding synths, and the tight ass drum set. Probably fake drums, but ehh: it fills my spirit, temporarily.
The issue therein is the lack of ingenuity. What used to be quite incredible sounds like an old bald guy talky-talking over ancient beats and wet paper synths now. When Kesha was involved in that track, it was 2 fun. When it’s not Kesha, I generally don’t care bruh. This music is repetitive as ***, catchy, but in the same way every time. Rambling bald man will sorta rap in some kinda cheesy 2000s way, and then a chorus will pop on da radio as if to say, psyche! Except it’s not surprising, it’s actually completely predictable.
Therefore, this is a solid album that is fun the entire time in a damn-this-is-old kinda way. So it’s cringey, but not enough to offset the hard cringe levels. On the other hand, if you just wanna imagine a time when you were still a horny freshman, this is the music for you old saps. Just remember that Pitbull is famous and you are not, and you can enjoy these tracks as most of us non-rich plebs do that have huge payments on our houses to accomplish. You will never be as cool as Pitbull and he’s an aging bald man, and has sex unlike us sad parents with no expensive, watery synths to call ours cause we can’t afford them. We also can’t afford to be called Mr. and Mrs. worldwide cause we can’t afford plane tickets, let alone food. Cheers!
