Shea Serrano[Editor's note: Why This Song Sucks determines why particular tracks blow using science. It appears on West Coast Sound every Wednesday.]
Song: Pitbull's “Give Me Everything,” featuring Ne-Yo, Afrojack, Nayer
History: “Give Me Everything” is the second single from Pitbull's Planet Pit, which is a more expensive sounding version of his album that came before that, which is a more expensive sounding version of his album that came before that, which is a more expensive… ^forever.
Atmospherics: “Give Me Everything” is perfect, gorgeous, vapid house-hop. It is what a celebration sounds like. It is what a smile sounds like. It is what glitter sounds like. It is probably what Snooki's vagina is supposed to sound like. It is definitely not what Deena's vagina sounds like. Hers probably sounds like Gwar's “Sick Of You.”
Scientific Analysis: It turns out that Pitbull and Daddy Yankee are, in fact, two different people. Like, they're not even brothers. It's already confusing because they're both SouthofNorth Americans and they both favor culos. But for years they've been squished together by the media, subtly advertised as the same person (probably by bastard Republicans to syphon away votes from Democrats). The below screenshot shows that even the facist Youtube is in on these shenanigans.
But they are not the same person. Wikipedia confirms this. They are wholly separate humans, and should be treated as such.
Meanwhile Ne-Yo, national step champion, is a supernaturally cool crooner. His voice is fabulously rhythmic. He seems warm and kind and smiles the way you want the guy that your daughter brings home to smile. But it appears we've all been fooled by his almond eyes and fashionista pants. The bulk of his contribution here: “Let's do it tonight. Grab somebody sexy, tell them, 'Hey. Give me everything tonight. Give me everything tonight. Give me everything tonight.'”
Kinda pretty much exactly what serial killers think all of the time.
Ne-Yo: 40 Percent More Devious Than Anyone Realized
It's all just a bit too rape-y, really. Not saying Ne-Yo is a criminal, but, you know, just watch when you close your garage door, is all.
Bonus Reason This Song Sucks: Hyper-commercialism. Despite it being readymade for corporatization, Pitbull somehow manages to fulfill a sponsorship obligation within the first stanza of the song. See if you can guess which camera company gave him a ton of money.
“Me not working hard? Yeah, right. Picture that with a Kodak. And better yet, go to Times Square, take a picture of me with a Kodak.”
I do not hate this song; quite the contrary, in fact. There likely has not been a more affecting, more genuine, more accessible clubbing track this year. Still, it sucks.
Like this: My sons, both four-years-old, currently play soccer. The last game they “played,” Boy A cried for, like, 85 percent of it. At one point, he got so frustrated that he charged the mass of children kicking at the ball, let loose a ferocious enough bellow to pause the herd, picked up the ball, threw it out of bounds, then ran away.
Boy B chases the ball with the same amount of passion and desire with which someone pursues herpes or a box of rattlesnakes. He once spent an entire game with his hand to his chest, shouting to the ref that his heart was beating too fast. The first time they put him in to play goalie last season, he stopped a shot on goal (Yes!), grabbed it with his bear paws (good), then threw it into his own goal (oh, come the fuck on, kid).
They suck at soccer. My brain knows this. And yet, I love them. Because they live in my heart. That's where this song lives. That's what this song does. It throws the ball in its goal and you love it for it. Or despite it.
Conclusions:
(I) Pitbull and Daddy Yankee are not the same person.
(II) If Ne-Yo offers you a ride home, do not accept.
(III) Pitbull is a dedicated advertiser.
(IV) “Give Me Everything” is your four-year-old kid playing soccer.
Advertising disclosure: We may receive compensation for some of the links in our stories. Thank you for supporting LA Weekly and our advertisers.