Pree---what?

The racket that is produced by this man can hardly be called music.

Everytime I hear him on radio, I can't help imagine what was happening in the God-forsaken studio where they were recording the music. I see a producer, who is not able to see, because he is stoned to death; Neither can he stand on his two feet because he is drunk as well. That is the only possible way you can come up with such horribly botched sound experiments.

As for the musicians (or musician), the clash and clatter of noise conjures images of small boys in some deep country hole (like swaziland), beating the crap out of a collection of old tins using sticks. Then some schmuck must surely have plugged in a direct current of 10,000 volts into the music equipment; The base signature in most songs sounds as if Hercules is dragging a warship across a corrugated floor.

In answer to these staggering inadequacies, Prezzo has a patented line. The thrust of it is this: If you don't or can't "appreciate" his music, you are slammed into a class of undesirable people called "MaHaterz". This has been used many times to silence people who have remarked that Prezzo's music is garbage. To give some lift to the dying horse that is his music, the man employs vast resources to shoot videos. He raps on stoically, even when he is hardly making sense. Songs have refrains; His is a particular brand where he constantly regurgitates his name in like some robot who only has six characters programmed into its memory. Young men who wear clothes that are too big for them, wave their arms frantically in front of the camera. Sometimes, someone will poke their nose at the lens. The message that they try to convey by these actions is totally lost on me. This mediocrity is now branded something else: Floss. You might even hear a few lines (when you ears are not bursting) where this word is used. The last time I checked, floss was a rudimentary dental instrument used for cleaning dark recesses of one's mouth; How this came to be something to be proud about escapes me entirely.

As for using a lot of money to shoot videos, I don't think his excellency Mr President makes any money from his music. In fact, one can say that his calling in life is to waste money. I detest such display of opulence. I am even more unimpressed because the man does not earn his lavish keep by the sweat of his brow. All I see is a baby, trapped in a man's body, splashing in a bath tub full of sweet sticky mixture of uji and honey.

Then this mama.........


I have heard it said that she is intelligent, sassy and quick witted. Top brass of Kenya's women professionals. Maybe she took leave of her senses. I hate to think that she was taken in by Prezzo's juvenile chest thumping.
Right about this minute someone is already protesting about love being blind, choices and other academic arguments that people employ when confronted with brunt suggestions. Save it.


Sometime, I can't help thinking that Prezzo is a living example of why people should not crave money that much. Along the same lines, this is an apt profession for him. It gives him purpose and application, albeit empty. It is not too bad. After all, check out what Osama did with his money.

I must stop here. It has become personal enough.