Jennifer Lopez's "Do It Well," the first single from the new album Brave, is a funky celebration of bringing hotness and commitment together. The video, on the other hand... You know how sometimes you see a video, and you think, "Damn, that is the perfect depiction of everything that song is about," and then the song and the video really resonate with you for a long time? Yeah. This isn't one of those times.

So Jennifer Lopez is this badass beyotch in a supersexy trench coat, and she gets this message that she needs to help the world's youngest fry cook get to Union Street. So she goes to a club where they have strippers in Habitrails, pushes a guy down the stairs, gets another guy in a chokehold, has a dance break, shoves and punches eight or nine more guys, has another dance break, passes a dude in a mousetrap, has another dance break, saves the little fry cook, kicks one last guy down the stairs, and leaves. Presumably for Union Street.

Feel the heat. Feel the love. Feel the inimitable, "Look, Ma, I'm directing" style of the famously edgy David LaChapelle. Feel the need to wonder aloud, "The hell?"

Okay, maybe I'm just frighteningly susceptible to the charms of white people rapping for comedic purposes, but I think this is pretty good. In this rap video, King Solomon and the Giggles explain exactly what it takes to join their entourage -- the skill to deliver a hard back massage while wearing camouflage. Up in the garage.

King Solomon and the Giggles bring more than just helpful specificity to the table, though; they're actually not bad rappers. Plus they have cute chicks in camo and several impressive dance breaks, including one that features that Milli-Vanilli-esque, side-to-side jiggy thing that I don't know the name of but was mighty entertained to see again.

Plus, I like that the one guy is a "soldier with a camouflage backpack, camouflage juice box, camouflage fruit snacks." Stealthy and tasty.

If you loved the soapy drama, narrative power, and chattily detailed lyrics of "Trapped in the Closet," but you feared the commitment of such a large time investment, well, jump up and sing "Hallelujah," 'cause your video is here!

In "Same Girl," R. Kelly calls up his best bud Usher to tell him about the new lady in his life. As Kells describes her -- license plate that says "Angel," tattoo on her ankle, a place on Peach Street near 17th -- Ush starts to get a baaaad feeling. Usher asks, "She got a kid?" "Yep." "Loves some Waffle House?" "Yep" "Do she got a beauty mark on her left side of her mouth" "Man?" "Went to Georgia Tech?" "Yep." "Works at TBS?" "Yep." As Ush has clearly realized well before Kells (who's apparently not all that bright), they are involved with the SAME GIRL. Oh, snap!

After several verses about how she done them wrong performed in various settings that show how rich they are, Ush and Kells decide to confront the girl in question. Only, when they do... she's TWINS! (Twins with the same kid, same job, same car, same tattoo, and same beauty mark, apparently.) Eh, all's well that ends well, I guess. Poor Kells still looks a little confused, though.

Campy British sensation Mika has already been compared plenty to Freddie Mercury. "Big Girl (You Are Beautiful)" is unlikely to change that -- it's like a kinder, sweeter, disco-infused "Fat Bottomed Girls," joyfully performed on a sugar high. Bursting forth with color and energy, the video features Mika boisterously taking to the streets with a wide assortment of plus-sized women, dancing and cavorting in what looks like one of the most fun block parties ever.

Skinny girls, watch out. Between this and A Fat Rant, the day of the big girl isn't just coming -- I think it's here. Sit back, have a donut, and enjoy.

Well, this is what happens when you find religion and won't sing about sex anymore. There's no denying Prince can still play; the guitar riff in this song is insanely hot. But somehow this commercial for Verizon V-Cast still feels like a pale imitation of Rock's Tiniest Sex God's better years. Now, watered-down Prince is still a lot better than most artists' best stuff. But for my taste, the dancing girls are a little too santitized, the choreography a bit too literal -- it just makes me yearn for raunchier days. The girls are crawling between his legs, sure. But he just doesn't seem to care like he used to.

So enjoy the new song, 'cause new Prince is hard to come by -- but if you've got a moment, hop in the time machine and revisit Cream, a song from the days when the objectification was enthusiastic, the double entendres were nearly single, and The Purple One still knew how to hump a scantily-clad girl and look like he meant it.