If only Bebe Cool knew just how great he sounded when he is simply singing, doing his vocal thing, he would never strip himself bare in public again by making his nearly-always failed attempts at rap. It’s that simple, really. He only needs to do the basics; to sing.
Maybe it is testament to the guy’s sheer versatility. I mean, the guy can choose to sound all hoarse and coarse like his vocal codes are lined with sandpaper. And when you press Next, he melts away, goes all soft in tone, mellow like a fruit.
But maybe I am just kidding and it’s not a sign of strength after all; that what we have on our hands is a musician who has failed to figure out what works best for him, and his fans for that matter.
If you like Bebe Cool while he is sounding sober, you should like the way he sound on parts of Ndiisa Buti, before he loses his head. What will bother you most acutely is that the fellow has, once again, for the umpteenth time, spent a whole three minutes and 16 seconds making mournful cries about all people that envy his success. He brags that he now eats using chopsticks, reminding you of those kids in Primary School who bragged that they could play computer games, after seeing a computer for the first time.
