You’re just way too worked up for Teddy Penderazdoun’s comfort zone right now.
Despite a similar propensity for unworkable relationships with people who work in “nightclubs,” I too once loathed T-Pain. As the year of Poopdeck Pain ground on, though, the guy kept showing up on so many of my favorite singles–the tipping point was probably hearing the sinister, strangulated multi-tracking employed on the remix of Huey’s “Pop, Lock, And Drop” during a late night drive and being honestly unnerved by the macabre things one man can do with Antares software; that, and the Showbiz Pizza Palace re-remix–that eventually I cried (Auto-Tuned) uncle. “Calm The Fuck Down,” where Pain tries a little tenderness towards a lady friend who’s tossing crockery at him, was the first time I really loved our multi-talent auteur as a non-guest star, from the sweetly strummed “acoustic” (like anything this guy does isn’t caked in digital glaze) guitar winding through the goofy (and yeah, quasi-misogynistic) pleas/threats, to the climatic, almost shocking ululations, which sound like he’s trying force a gallstone the wrong way through his urinary tract, up his throat, and right down a talkbox tube. Even if you remain firm in your T-Pain hating and are unable to enjoy this song as a catchy plaint that’s honest about its self-mocking slow jam humor, I do recommend at least sitting through the whole thing for the cherry at the very end.