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Flo-Rida - Mail On SundayAlbum Review by:
John Burnett
Thursday, March 27, 2008
 Preview/Download MP3 The Hip Hop community tends to look down upon its acts who aim for that more pop/mainstream appeal, you know the TRL-market. But you see there is also such a thing as being undeniably hot which is what newcomer Tramar "Flo Rida" Dillard proved when he dropped the insanely successful "Low." Let's go through the accolades its accrued: 3.2 million (legal) digital downloads, #1 track on Billboard Hot 100 for ten consecutive weeks, 1.5 million ringtone sales and a lengthy list of other accomplishments. In layman's terms, that shit is hot right now. But Flo Rida could just as easily fall back into
obscurity and one-hit wonder retirement if *Mail On Sunday* isn't able to deliver (pun intended).
I'd describe Flo Rida's steez as what would happen if Nelly and R. Kelly were genetically morphed into one singer-rapper hybrid. "Ack Like You Know" is a good example of what I mean. The chorus is sang while the rhymes are layered with traditional rhyming and Flo's crooning vocals. The track is
three-fourths braggadocious and one quarter "look how far I've come" but it never really finds a solid direction and seems to wander. Flo Rida's efforts come out way stronger when he centers the track around a unifying concept. Take the Timbaland-assisted "Elevator." Each floor has a prototype chick on it (a gold digger, a dime piece and a hood rat) and each verse has Flo Rida speedily flowing over Timbo's glaring horns and thumping drums about each archetype describing their wears, personalities and body types. "Elevator" is a big record and definitely has that universal club—I refuse to say
banger—appeal. "Roll" featuring Sean Kingston uses the concept of gambling throughout the track with some quick-hitting lines here and there like "we could play Casino/you could be my Ginger/Sam Rothstein/I supply the dealers" and "got money on the shooter/am I talking bout the Ruger?/the man that roulets/click, click I'm no loser." "Ms. Hangover" parallels a particular sexy chick with the effects of a night full of spirits—no, not ghosts stupid. Flo Rida dumbs out flow-wise over J.R. Rotem's track flipping his words out quickly and clearly in long stretches which he is prone to do.
He's also prone to say some silly shit like "girl you the shit/Southern slang for manure/the booty connoisseur when drinking on Kahlua" but the "wtf" moments are proportionate to the "oh snap" ones. Conceptually, Flo Rida takes a swing and a miss on "Still Missin" where he compares a female of his that split to a gardening tool (my rake in the shed/but my hoe still missing." "Priceless" featuring the Birdman has to be one of my favorites on *Mail On Sunday*. Flo Rida's ability to whip up infectious hooks and rhyme well all come together on this one. Heck, even Birdman's verse was kind of decent.
Flo Rida set out the make a record with universal appeal and he did so. I could see any of these tracks being banged in any club in any region of this country. Will *Mail On Sunday *up his street cred? Hell, no but who cares…This album will have no problem selling out I'm sure. The thing about making a record that appeals to many is that it'll touch few. On the tail end, you come out knowing about as much about Flo Rida as you did before which is disappointing since he has some interesting experiences. The best analogy I could use to describe *Mail On Sunday *would be that of the place where it'll get bumped. The club is tremendous excitement and fun all night but after a night of dancing you get tired.
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