This leering, hate-filled club hit draws blood, a trickle out my nose while Akon cruises in a Lamborghini through slow blue light. I’ve never heard a track, let alone idea, less sexually appealing than this: “Smack that / All on the floor / Smack that / till you get sore,” delivered by Akon with emotionless calculation. And what makes this all so chilling is that it’s not even calculating, like, “Dude, I know the perfect line to score some ass,” but calculating like, “People are gonna fucking eat this up at the club, dog” (high fives, crush beer cans, orgasm). What’s a beat sound like for something like this? One-snap nothing-hits and descending bleeps, a little empty bump-clap over which to describe beating the shit out of a woman.

Eminem: apologize. This isn’t the lowest point of your career -- that’d be “Fack” -- but it’s one more dot in an increasingly downward trajectory. Sadly, I find your rap on “Smack That” somewhat refreshing: at least it’s not over another Eminem beat. But at least Hov, the man from whom you’ve taken your “retirement” cues, chose to emerge from the “shadows” on worthwhile cuts, showing up at Kanye’s party, encouraging to Lupe, reminding us that he gets to hang out with Beyonce and we don’t. I can only assume Bizarre won’t hang out with you anymore if you’re all “rolling with Akon” now, rhyming “kitty cat claws” with “puddy tat dolls” and hopefully hating yourself every step of the way. Zero fucking stars; I’m ashamed.

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