Monday, April 28, 2008

A blunted Sunday comp review rundown (part II)

12:32pm: My head is foggy, and I think I bought a whole bag of books this morning. Three bucks, Damn. Here’s part two, and god bless the day of rest—more hip hop, smoke breaks and crosswords, plus the playoffs are on broadcast for once. Today I’m starting with another lost gem, Joe Budden’s “Mood Muzik 3,” which I checked out a few times when I got it last February, and yes I did dug it, but didn’t have an avenue for write about it at the time (times is tough for a lowly freelancer). Budden’s cursed history with industry bullshit is compelling and well-known; yet it’s not the story itself that’s ultimately satisfying, rather it’s the artist that has evolved as an end result of those struggles. (As opposed to a 50 cent, whose allure rests almost exclusively on his back story, and not what it made him.) On “Mood Muzik” he shows off an alarming level of candor and pathos, along with plenty of masterful flows and wordplays. The mixtape format leaves cohesion at the door, but the collection still wins on the strength of its emotional weight, where Joe’s laments are backed up nobly by dark east coast soundscapes. Intoxication results from an artist so haywire personally but on-point technically. Call it tortured genius syndrome. Some tired moments pop up when Joe’s guests showcase typical nihilistic gunplay instead of genuine soul searching, but it’s still a guilty pleasure to swagger in murder kicks, I ain’t mad. They still tuck in some wicked bars amongst the hard rock hullabaloo, such as “Money is the root of all evil, I thought/ but when I’m broke is when I usually have the evilest thoughts.” Kinda deep, no? Did he just jack a Metallica ballad? Oh, but Joe’s not just a cry baby, he’s also a man of knowledge, as evidenced by casual references to topics diverse and esoteric, from Richard Reid the shoe bomber to Brand Nubian to Sam Bowie (“I ain’t been to Summer Jam/I learned from Lupe/when you ‘Dumb it Down’ it’s just harder to understand”) And he’s got a big bag full of more instant quotables. “The nerve of the young folk/Yosemite Sam is getting gung-ho/nigga bank account only got one O/he could snort lines of coke with his dick and not come(cum) dope.” On the really real, Joe’s my man, so look out for his proper release dropping any week now.

Verdict: Burn it, then Cop the next release

2:02: After re-sampling yesterday’s “Training Day,” I’m popping in this “Hero” joint, a collaboration between E-Dot and Darp Malone. The use of acoustic guitar on the opener “Magadishu” (as well as the title itself) suggests accurately that this project will be in the vein of that feel good boho “conscious” underground indie backpack coffee shop shit. Well then the question is: do they come with anything original? Breathe easy, these cats got something to say and a good idea of how they wanna say it. Darp Malone’s production is subdued, melodic, and jazzy, but not afraid of dropping bass heavy bottoms. If that’s your bag, he does it ably, with plenty of dynamic arrangements; if you can’t get with that smoove shit, then this probably ain’t gonna change your mind. Here’s a good test: when someone says “R&B,” do you think a.)rhythm & blues, or b.)rap and bullsh**? If it’s the latter, I understand, but that’s kind of a shame; in a true hip hop Eden, diversity is king and “Hero” definitely has a small spot to fill. Autobiographical story raps mix with sober looks at relationships and society, like grown man ish. Some of the seemingly endless love swoons crowding the second half are corny and meandering, and the last track is all preachy, but overall “Hero” is pretty good on a lazy Sunday afternoon.

Verdict: At least check the Web site

3: 04: Much like “Hero,” Truth Universal’s “Self Determination” has all the mannerisms of a proper indie rap album, from the political platitudes liberally interspersed with standard sloganeering and earnest but unoriginal wisdom and music for the headphones. What is real revolution, really? Mentioning political prisoners and freedom fighters and “The Beast” and the Congo in one verse, but not really saying anything of substance in the process? It doesn’t help that my man’s dropping lots of big words but has no funk nor swing nor swagger in his flow, which stays rigid and predictable throughout. I’d say this was cutting edge rhyme style in about 1985. The beats are functionally varied but stilted as well, like the same album-long mid-tempo beat with small variations. All the elements are there, but it’s all recycled, a second rate amalgamation of the raptivism D.A.I.S.Y. age of X-Clan and the JB’s, mid-90s NYC underground realism and Preemo aping, and the recent resurgence of “activist” rappers nostalgic for their non-existent days at Berkeley bumping Blackstarr with Jeff Chang. Can’t hate Truth Universal for his sincerity or his efforts to educate, but criticizing the same old shit the underground has been criticizing for the last ten years is playyyyed out, and naming yourself Truth Universal is a tad overbearing. Almost every sound bite line is unintentionally cringe-worthy (“revolutionary love in the spirit of Che”…uggghh) Where’s the fun? In order to swallow a pill this bitter, you’d need at least three tall cans, but “Self Determination” is far too sober for you then. I guess you can’t win for losing after all.

Verdict: Respect due, but not play. It gets no play.

That’s it again for now, kiddies. The Fat Money tires easily, as you know. Maybe I can sneak a few winks before The Simpsons, dozing off to Nicky2States or something. Keep it fresh posse.

Bump this: 9th Wonder & Buckshot, “The Formula” (out soon)

Saturday, April 26, 2008

A blunted Saturday comp review rundown

Well, this stack of advanced promo CDs ain't getting any shorter, and it's actually snowing here in St. Pizz, so I guess I might as well kill two birds with one stone: waste my day bumping this here rap music and letting the people know what's what. (Below is my account in real time.)

___________________________________________

We'll either humbly suggest you either:
*Cop it.
*Burn it.
*At least check out their myspace page.
*Walk on by.
*Send hate mail to this artist's record label.

___________________________________________

3:16pm: I've already seen this episode of "Star Trek" (the one where that mustachioed alien and his harem of seemingly beautiful women pill poppers fuck shit up old school on the Enterprise), so I might as well start this off right with supergroup The Camp's "The Campaign" (Commonwealth Records, http://www.myspace.com/itsthecamp). This was an April 1st release, so if yer still sleeping, wake the eff up. This crew is associated with Apathy and his ilk, and it shows here. Straight up uncomprimising dope hip hop. Nothing too sweet or innovative, just fresh and crispy hardcore mannerisms done well. Blunts, beats, brain, and get money, but all expressed with a certain respect and class, staying true to the game word to '95. From the title track opener, the exuberance and dedication these cats show to being the cockiest and cleverest bastards in the game is readily apparent. The beats are thick and bottom-heavy, with warm soul leanings and a mid-90s swing that soothes the hardcore head. Like the similarly gifted Celph-titled, this is that shit for intelligent thugs, or white kids who still wanna feel gangsta but can no longer stomach major label artists' penchant for lyrics targeted at drunk teenagers. The flow and content are classical, as is the chemistry and the vibe. Serious lyrical beatdowns are cut with refreshing humor and pathos. They even manage to throw in some good old fashioned messages between all the shenanigan story raps and extraordinary boasts. Anyone else remember loving getting lost in the hip hop universe in all its ugliness and swagger, shamelessly and without guilt?
Verdict: Cop it.

4:32: Justus League affiliated duo The Away Team released a little album called "Training Day" back in November of last year. I just discovered the disc again after losing it for months, so I guess I'll give it some play, finally. It's not too late to move them units! This here's a revival of sorts, serious as cancer. This is an event. Or I guess it was back in November. Man I picked 'em good today. "That classic/liquor in a flask shit." Kadeem Hardisoon reference? Check. Khrysis boardwork doesn't skimp on soul drenching arrangements and ominous beats, leaving the mic work to partner Sean Boog, who digs his baritone deep into the warm layers with an assured flow and a steady gaze. Equally adept at exhileration and introspection, the duo damn near speaks to each other through beats and rhymes. Hip hop can get spiritual, like when you see how awesome a duo can be when they combine powers, Organized Konfusion EPMD and on and on. A beautiful thang, fuck soup, this could be gumbo for the soul. Things stay fresh because many styles are mastered, with scary ease switching from pensive boasts to social commentary to party rockers. The versitility is almost exhausting. Warning: not for the faint of hip hop heart. May cause heartburn. But if ya can't stand the heat... you know. Classic breakbeats galore! That's a throwback move I'll endorse, James Brown is still funky. Track six dude even takes on Kweli's stilted machine gun flow admirably. This is crystal shit: well-crafted, multi-dimensional, complex and classy.
Verdict: Cop it already!

Well folks, the fat money is a little winded from all this typing, maybe I should cut back on the spliffs after all. Im'a go make some tea, have some coughee, and prepare for tonight's RPS tournie. Hater's beware, part 2 of the review rundown tomorrow...

Ffffrrrrresh, for oh-8, you suckkkkaaaaaasss.

Saturday, April 19, 2008

KRS at Trocadero concert review

The guy really is a nut, but also a genius. Completely nonsensical, yet persuasive as hell. Sorta like Jim Jones was I imagine; D Nice should be around with the punch of esoteric knowledge any minute now, so drink up kiddies!

http://blogs.citypages.com/ctg/2008/04/krs_one_april_1.php

Chuuuuch.

Thursday, April 10, 2008

Lightning and Thunder CD release show

Originally featured on the City Pages online blog but now virtually buried forever under the detritus of another day's/week's/month's news, here now is my review of the Lightning & Thunder Varsity show, preserved for the ages and the masses:

http://blogs.citypages.com/ctg/2008/03/release_the_dan.php

Fucking brilliant.

Wednesday, April 9, 2008

blogs are stupid

This blog reminds me of my first semester as a radio DJ at college. I was given the 2-4AM slot on Sunday mornings. Instead of partying hard until I had to go on, I was such a dork back then that I'd retire at about 10 and then get a good 3-4 hours of sleep before the show, then slog across campus with my 4 mega-books of discs and play old school hip hop for no one at all. I imagined the signal wafting gently into the atmosphere and far into the unknowns of space, where it is still floating today, perfectly untouched by any sensory organs able to hear it. All that wonderfully and sleepy-eyed effort lost forever. No one reads this blog because it exists in a sort of cyber vaccuum, just like Macalester's incredibely weak 2-mile signal ensured my early efforts to edutain and ill-inform went largely unheeded. I am a voice alone crying out in the wilderness or something to that effect. I am a man with a few things to say, so listen up. Or not, whatever.