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)
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