What better way to rise on a Friday morning than with a shameless R&B appreciation of involuntary erections by three gentlemen from Minneapolis not named Prince Rogers Nelson. “Too Close,” a song that’s been the bane of vice principals for a decade now, remains Next’s biggest hit. But while the trio has released a pair of albums following 1997’s smash Rated Next, getting jerked by their label has since left their career a little dysfunctional. Perhaps some day their new evil manager Matthew Knowles will stop being so hard-headed and loosen his grip on the band, allowing them to pull out of their contract or at least release the still-shelved Next, Lies, And Videotape, the long-awaited followup to 2002’s slightly limp The Next Episode. (Unless you count 2005’s The Moisture Mixtape, rumored to be renamed by a slightly puritanical DJ Whoo Kid from the band’s original choice, Nextra Lubricated, on the grounds that it was “cheesy even for guys who’d use a word like ‘nextacy,’ which is not even a real word.”) [YouTube]
videodrone
Next Have A Ball
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My favorite moment in Next history was when R.L. went solo and started some ridiculous R&B beef with Jagged Edge and 112.
I’m going to have an old man moment and grumble that even goofy pleasures like this are uncommon in R&B now these days. Sigh. Now you damn kids get off my lawn!
Dick jokes galore!
Oh Next. I have always been an avid music buyer when the music [and the money] is right. (There’s a great story from my childhood involving pennies, an envelope, the postman, and Columbia House). Unfortunately it wasn’t right with this one. Their debut CD has got to be one of a very limited few number of discs I have attempted to return to the Wherehouse. (Remember that place?) Sucks too, cause I also really enjoyed (and still enjoy) Butta Love. I mean, “it’s so smooth and so creamy…”