by Jesse McCartney ft. Ludacris
(Hollywood)
This is about as flyweight a record as you could try to seriously review. I have no problem with bubblegum, synths, or even cloying sweetness when they're deployed with an active imagination and/or intelligence. This, though, is as vibrant as a squashed slug, and when Ludacris phones in his verse, you just wish he'd go under a bridge already.
What made me curious at all? Simple: I'm a Beatles geek. Alarm bells went off in my head when I saw this particular artist-title combo enter the Hot 100 three weeks ago (in the low 90s; it's since jumped to number 39). The reason, of course, is that "How Do You Sleep?" is the name of one of John Lennon's meanest songs, aimed at a different McCartney, ex-songwriting partner Paul. (It appears on 1971's Imagine.) "Those freaks was right when they said you was dead," Lennon snarled as George Harrison cut in with sneering slide guitar, as flatly vicious a dis as anything in the Nas/Jay-Z feud. Paul isn't related to Jesse—at least, he wasn't until now—but while I'd love to think it cosmically appropriate for a fellow McCartney to reclaim the song title, after listening to the record, I'm sorry I even noticed a resemblance.
by Asher Roth
(SchoolBoy/Loud/SRC)
Speaking of resemblances, guess what Eminem and Brad Nowell of Sublime's idiot child sounds like? Answer: this guy, with his self-explanatory track title, ideas and flow that struggle to catch up with his incredibly basic concept, and recent Hot 100 jump-in—he debuted at 55 two weeks ago. I'm proud to say that the first time I attempted to listen to it, I made it all the way to the 0:29 mark without hurling. The rest of you may not be so lucky.
With this song, we have incontrovertibly entered the era in which the YouTube novelty is an official menace. When Roth drawls, "Drink my beer and smoke my weed/But my good friends is all I need," over a rhythm track that sounds like Jack Johnson strumming "Sexual Healing" for his Delta Delta Dickhead buds, it's almost impossible to choose between ways of being embarrassed for humanity. The year is young; let's hope these remain its longest four minutes. 
