The Problem With... Jason DeRülo's "Ridin' Solo"


I'm starting to think that this Jason DeRülo character is going to end up as a serious, serial pop peeve of mine...

To me, the artists on the Top 40 are like a collection of horror-movie villains: Ke$ha would be Pazuzu-possessed Regan from The Exorcist; Lady Gaga would be Carrie (y'know, what with all with the on-stage blood and pyrotechnics) and Jason DeRülo would be... Jason.

We all know Jason DeRülo from "In My Head." He made weird noises on every line of that song, which served as some sort of male-fantasy thing. And he danced in front of a gas station.

This latest hit from DeRülo, "Ridin Solo," sees him on the rebound from a breakup and heading out to the club, reveling in his solo-ness. The lyrics include jems like a redundant line ("better days are gonna get better") and a line ("stop playin' misunderstood") that comes out of the blue and doesn't follow any of the lyrics surrounding it.

Lyrically, it's a big mess. A couple of lines in the chorus even hint at a driving hazard: "I'm putting on my shades to cover up my eyes / I'm jumpin' on my ride and heading out tonight."

Dude's is wearing shades at night? He better have some super-vision, or he's gonna kill somebody!

Anyway, the video includes Jason dancing in front of a light grid and looking in the mirror with a spike-studded jacket... wait. Jason has spikes? And an umlaut in his name? With some KISS paint, this guy could easily start a Scandinavian black metal band.

As much as I loathe sappy breakup music, this rebound music seems especially preposterous in its confidence. It's like a track tailor made for all the recently broken-up dudes out there who see the event not as a time to reflect and change, but as an opportunity to buy a red-hot car and stalk the clubs like nothing happened. Like a recent divorcee also struggling with a mid-life crisis.

I'll admit it: It's possible that I maybe just find the whole thing preposterous because I caught that new TV show the other night, Louie, where the title character is just plain miserable and still dogged with responsibility after a divorce.

But, more than likely, it's because the only people I can think of that get excited about "riding solo" and "hitting the club" at the same time are drug dealers looking to make a couple big sales in the bathroom.
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