Later With Jools - Jay Z 2009 / Van Morrison - 'Up County Down'

 JOOLS - LATER . . . . . . . . 

So Jools started his programme tonight Later . . . with JayZ ‘99 problems’ and followed it with Van Morrison singing new song from his tiresome desultory new album imaginatively titled 'Latest Record Project Volume 1'

Up County Down who’s chorus goes “down county up, up county down “

Veedon Fleece or Astral Weeks it ain’t! So sparse of any vestige of inspiration it even steals lyrics from Good Night Irene (recorded by Leadbelly in 1933) and 1941’s Deep in the heart of Texas!!!!?????? (guessing they are out of copyright so no royalties there then!)

but we started with a choice from 2009 (sic?) which made me sit and wonder as to how Shawn Corey Carter got to be the multi-millionaire he is today. I appreciate there is a culture gap or gaping rift and that I don't 'get it' being a mere white old fogey from a different continent but on what planet is this rap so called some poetic form. This from the man who has done two collaborations with the execrable R Kelly! 

Shakespeare it ain’t, I don’t even know who it is, black culture only I am guessing don’t think my parents or me would understand a single word! I have in recent years been studying and enjoying the Poem-A-|Day emails from the poets.org and their focus on poets of African American origin like James Weldon Johnson, Paul Lawrence Dunbar (now a favourite) or more obscure figures to me like Countee Cullen and of course more contemporary poets of colour male and female both and how wonderful they are too but this is hard going for someone seemingly advocating gun crime and accepting a caution for allegedly stabbing a bootlegger in a night club because he had some kind of blind rage!. 

Poetry speaks the universal language so . . ..this? Not so much! Foul mouthed, violent and sexist as far as I can tell

99 Problems

Jay Z

If you're having girl problems I feel bad for you son

I got ninety-nine problems but a bitch ain't one

I got the rap patrol on the gat patrol

Foes that want to make sure my casket's closed

Rap critics that say he's "Money Cash Hoes"

I'm from the hood, stupid, what type of facts are those?

If you grew up with holes in your zapatos

You'd celebrate the minute you was having dough

I'm like, "Fuck critics" you can kiss my whole asshole

If you don't like my lyrics, you can press fast forward

Got beef with radio if I don't play they show

They don't play my hits, well, I don't give a shit, so

Rap mags try and use my black ass

So advertisers can give 'em more cash for ads, fuckers

I don't know what you take me as

Or understand the intelligence that Jay-Z has

I'm from rags to riches, n****** I ain't dumb

I got ninety nine problems but a bitch ain't one, hit me

Ninety nine problems but a bitch ain't one

If you having girl problems I feel bad for you son

I got ninety nine problems but a bitch ain't one, hit me

The year's '94 and my trunk is raw

In my rearview mirror is the motherf****ing law

I got two choices y'all, pull over the car or

Bounce on the devil, put the pedal to the floor

Now I ain't trying to see no highway chase with Jake

Plus I got a few dollars I can fight the case

So I, pull over to the side of the road

I heard, "Son, do you know why I'm stopping you for?"

"Cause I'm young and I'm black and my hat's real low"

Do I look like a mind reader, sir? I don't know

Am I under arrest or should I guess some more?

"Well you was doing fifty-five in a fifty-four" (uh huh)

"License and registration and step out of the car"

"Are you carrying a weapon on you, I know a lot of you are"

I ain't stepping out of shit, all my papers legit

"Well do you mind if I look around the car a little bit?"

Well my glove compartment is locked, so is the trunk in the back

And I know my rights so you goin' need a warrant for that

"Aren't you sharp as a tack? You some type of lawyer or something?"

"Somebody important or something?"

Well, I ain't passed the bar, but I know a little bit

Enough that you won't illegally search my shit

"Well we'll see how smart you are when the K-9 come"

I got ninety nine problems but a bitch ain't one, hit me

Ninety nine problems but a bitch ain't one

If you having girl problems I feel bad for you son

I got ninety nine problems but a bitch ain't one, hit me

Ninety nine problems but a bitch ain't one

If you having girl problems I feel bad for you son

I got ninety nine problems but a bitch ain't one, hit me

Now once upon a time not too long ago

A n**** like myself had to strong-arm a ho

This is not a ho in the sense of having a pussy

But a pussy having no goddamn sense try and push me

I tried to ignore 'em, talk to the Lord

Pray for 'em, 'cause some fools just love to perform

You know the type, loud as a motorbike

But wouldn't bust a grape in a fruit fight

The only thing that's goin' happen is I'ma get to clapping and

He and his boys goin' be yapping to the Captain

And there I go trapped in the Kit-Kat again

Back through the system with the riff-raff again

Fiends on the floor scratching again

Paparazzi's with they cameras, snapping 'em

D.A. tried to give a n**** shaft again

Half a mil' for bail 'cause I'm African

All because this fool was harassing them

Trying to play the boy like he's saccharine

But ain't nothing sweet 'bout how I hold my gun

I got ninety-nine problems being a bitch ain't one, hit me

Ninety-nine problems but a bitch ain't one

If you having girl problems I feel bad for you son

I got ninety-nine problems but a bitch ain't one, hit me

Ninety-nine problems but a bitch ain't one

If you having girl problems I feel bad for you son

I got ninety-nine problems but a bitch ain't one, hit me

Having girl problems I feel bad for you son

I got ninety-nine problems and a bitch ain't one

You're crazy for this one, Rick, it's your boy

As for the Morrison this is the man who wrote 

We were born before the wind

Also, younger than the sun

'Ere the bonnie boat was won

As we sailed into the mystic

Hark now, hear the sailors cry

Smell the sea and feel the sky

Let your soul and spirit fly

Into the mystic

or 

Hey, where did we go?
Days when the rains came
Down in the hollow
Playin' a new game
Laughin' and a-runnin', hey, hey
Skippin' and a-jumpin'
In the misty morning fog with
Our, our hearts a-thumping and you

or even find the depth of poetry when cleaning windows in Belfast

Oh, the smell of the bakery from across the street
Got in my nose, yeah
As we carried our ladders down the street
With the wrought iron gate rows
I went home and listened to Jimmie Rodgers
In my lunch break
Bought five woodbines at the shop on the corner
And went straight back to work

but this is . . . . . . Up County Down 

“I've been there in the beginning

When twelve shillings was a pound

I've been here long enough to know that

What goes around just comes around

Is it Kathleen?

Is it Maureen?

Is It Eileen?

Is it Irene Goodnight?

Well I may as well be

In the County Down

Well I may as well be

In the County Down

Well I may as well be

In the County Down

Well I may as well be

In the County Down

I was playing at the Whiskey

When The Doors were opening up

Sometimes I sat there drinking

From a poisoned cup

I'm going down, County Up

I'm going up, County Down

I'm going down, County Up

I'm going up, County Down

Is it Kathleen?

Is it Maureen?

Is It Eileen?

Singing Irene Goodnight

Well I may as well be

In the County Down

Well I may as well be

In the County Down

Well I may as well be

In the County Down

Well I may as well be

In the County Down

I'm going down, County Up

I'm going up, County Down

I'm going down, County Up

I'm going up, County Down

I'm going down, County Up

I'm going up, County Down

I'm going down, County Up

I'm going up, County Down

I'm going down, County Up

I'm going up, County Down” . . . .ad nauseum

Good grief it’s absolute shite!