I’ll admit it. I had heard of Murs of a long time ago, but wrote him off as the type of aggressive, chauvinistic hip hop that I don’t generally care for. When Love and Rockets, Volume 1 came out last week and I read some of the hype about the artist’s collaboration with producer Ski Beatz, I decided it was time I give him a try.
Overall, I really liked what Murs seems to be all about. The rhymes are smooth, the lyrics thoughtful and the beats entirely catchy and interesting. Tracks like “Remember to Forget” and “Easy-E” are a little predictable, but still make for a good listen and slower songs like “Hip-hop and Love” and “Westside Love” smolder and sizzle with a jazz-inspired sexiness.
My only real problem with Love and Rockets was the third track, an upbeat story about drugs and joy riding called, “67 Cutlass”. The story, which is funny and catchy at first, details the accidental killing of a cop during an attempted roadside drug arrest. The narrator and his friend proceed to “hogtie” the “pig” and put him in the trunk of their car. They then get messed up on shrooms and drive out to desert to look for a place to bury their “treasure.” The repeated line at the end of the song goes, “In a 67 Cutlass we was ridin’ through the desert with the music turned up and pig in the trunk.”
I don’t think I’m particularly puritanical or squeamish, but something about this song just rubs me the wrong way. I’m not necessarily a supporter of police in every case. I certainly can see how they are guilty of profiling and bullying, but the joy with which the rapper sings about the dead police officer in his trunk just seems really distasteful to me.
Without “67 Cutlass,” I think I might have really enjoyed Love and Rockets, but the bad taste that song left in my mouth just tainted the rest of the album for me. If you have a stronger stomach than I do, there are some genuinely good songs on this album. I won’t blame you if you love it, but it just isn’t for me.