Hello, and welcome to “Dang it, Bobby!” an ongoing series I’m starting where I take the lyrics to a song and examine them with my own words.  This is done after the long processes of beating my head against a wall, crying in the sink, sobbing in front of a mirror and, of course, eating ice cream with chocolate syrup with a blank stare on my face.  You people have no idea what I go through for your amusement.  But barring my possible contempt, I decided to do this after hearing a song I haven’t heard for a long time, Bobby V’s (back then it was Bobby Valentino) only significant hit “Slow Down”, a song SO awkward now that I hear it nine years later that I had to start a new thing just to get my thoughts down.  All subsequent lyrical studies will follow the same name: “Dang It, Bobby!” and the same gif, but the song will always be different.  All the same, let’s do this right!

Today’s sad song: Bobby Valentino’s “Slow Down”

To be fair, this song was pretty big when it first dropped.  As the first (or at least first significant) R&B singer on Ludacris’ “Disturbing tha Peace” label, there were high hopes for the singer, and for a lot of us (I was 15 or 16 or so when the song dropped) it was just that.  It was a big song, a significant hit, but age does something to a person.  It makes them look back on things and say, “You know, MAYBE it wasn’t all that great back then.”  And that’s the case with “Slow Down”.  But this isn’t a track review (numerical score: 2 out of 5) but a lyrical examination, so let’s get it started.

I saw you walking
Down on Melrose
You looked like an angel
Straight out of heaven, girl
I was blown away by
Your sexiness
All I have to do is catch up to you

On one hand, I can appreciate the simplicity in seeing someone walking down a famous street.  On the other, it doesn’t make for anything compelling.  It’s not like she was walking down Pico Avenue.  She looked like an angel straight out of heaven, because where else will you find an angel?  Hell?  Cleveland?  No sir, you don’t find angels in Cleveland (it’s Cleveland!); and depending on what faith practice you follow demons are, in fact, fallen angels, so maybe the possibly Catholic Bobby Valentino was referencing something rather deep here. 

But if he was, it was immediately blown away by his being blown away by her sexiness.  You might think I have an issue with the generic flow of these opening six lines, but the red lights start to go up with the seventh line “All I have to do is catch up to you”.  That’s a yellow flag, but it’ll be explained later.

Hook:

Slow down I just wanna get to know you
But don’t turn around
Cuz that pretty round thing looks good to me
Slow down never seen anything so lovely
Now turn around
And bless me with your beauty, cutie

The hook is beckoning the woman to slow down, meaning Bobby is following her.  This strikes me as the opening gambit to a stalker’s gross intentions.  He says he wants to get to know her: that’s acceptable.  That’s healthy. 

“But don’t turn around”.  Black music, black men and black culture have an obsession with the ass.  That’s fine and dandy, but as Bobby sings it the words seem more creepy than complimentary.  “Cuz that pretty round thing looks good to me”.  Well I’m sure it does, Valentino, but you reiterate that stalker mentality with claiming that you’ve never seen anything so lovely.  This isn’t the first time an R&B singer has expressed such (un)healthy enthusiasm for the ass; let’s not forget R. Kelly and his Pulitzer Prize-worthy verse on the remix to T-Pain’s “I’m in Love with a Stripper”, where he questions whether or not he’s the first man to fall in love with an ass and, not surprisingly, propose to it.

There’s a line between romance and stalking, and this song uncomfortably falls into the latter category (and no, I didn’t forget to modify “line” with “fine”). 

A butterfly tattoo
Right above your navel
Your belly button’s pierced too just like I like it girl
Come take a walk with me
You’ll be impressed by
The game that I kick to you
It’s over and for reeaal

Let’s continue.  The woman has yet to turn around, as evidenced by the hook, and as a result talking about her navel tattoo could imply previous stalking.  We haven’t reached “Charlene (I’m Right Behind You)” levels, but it is getting dangerously close.  Another thing we have to take into consideration is that we have to assume that Bobby Valentino is, at the time of this song, famous enough to be noticed as Bobby Valentino.  At the time he was affiliated with Ludacris, who was still one of the more popular emcees at the time; if you were a part of Luda’s circle then you were known.  Period.  You knew who Chingy was.  You knew who… uh… well, you know what?  Maybe that’s a bit unfair of me.  Outside of Chingy and (later) Shawnaa, you really didn’t know anyone in DTP.  You didn’t really know who I-20 was.  You didn’t know who Field Mob was until Ciara got involved on their one hit.  You didn’t know who Playaz Circle was until Lil Wayne helped them out on “Duffle Bag Boy”, and speaking of Playaz Circle you CERTAINLY didn’t know who Tity Boi was.  You do now though.

That being said, it was originally a knock on Bobby V’s NEED to kick game, but at the time (and certainly now) he probably has to.

Bridge:

Like a flower fully bloomed in the summertime, you’re ready
To be watered by this conversation, you’re ready
I’m in awe cause you shine like the sun
Let me be the one to enjoy you
Let’s kick it girl

Look, I don’t even know WHAT to say about how cheesy, corny and utterly unappealing this bridge is, so here’s another 2 Chainz gif that shows my feelings:

Oh baby you know by now that I want you bad
I’m floating on thin air I can’t come down
Cupid hit me already damn
Now I can’t leave till seven digits are in my hand, my hand

That last line completely explains why this song is a certified stalker song.  We can assume the woman wants him like he wants her, but now he’s just pledging to pester her until he gets her phone number.  What if she just wants to enjoy a day on Melrose with her friends, with her Starbucks and her California fashion sense and her special edition DVDs?  What if she doesn’t want to be accosted by a man who, as history tells us with the tenure of DTP signees, was unknown and would be again in the span of three years?  Say what you will of R. Kelly (I know I do) or even Ronald Isley (oh, you KNOW I do): if they approached someone, their result would be at least one of intrigue.  They might not want to talk to R. Kelly or Ronald Isley, but they would at least have a passing knowledge of them, and as a result they wouldn’t think a relative unknown was just trying to pick them up.  A has-been and an older has-been will have been trying to pick them up.

Maybe I wouldn’t be so hard on B.V. if he at least SOUNDED like he was interested; it wasn’t until his second album and the swiftly forgotten lead single “Anonymous” that he displayed a vocal talent.  But all the same, songwriting isn’t easy business, and stalking is stalking.  When you won’t leave someone alone until you get what you want, it’s called stalking.  Or holding up the government: whichever applies more.