Respect...

Where Respect is Due
written by K Billy

I don’t mind 4 Bars at all. Yes, his opinions get lots of discussion on the message boards here, but usually for good reason. His post today was just as brave as Monday’s and while they – both posts – represent two different schools of thought, one can’t deny the relevancy of both, especially considering the climate of today’s hip-hop.

That being said, it’s tough to vouch for everything that comes out of the south. Much of it represents lots of things that hip-hop, let’s call them, “purists” abhor in their music and it’s been that way for a while (look up “Uncle Luke,” for example). Lots of it gets plenty of radio spins because people like to party, but one can’t ignore the gems present as well and it must serve to remind us of why the south cannot be forgotten in the foundation of hip-hop.

I just had the pleasure of watching a video for the Bun B ensemble track “You’re Everything.” It is, at once, and ode to the hometowns of the rappers present on the track (Rick Ross, 8-Ball, MJG and David Banner make appearances) and a nod at what they believe the south truly represents: a strong familial quality and to deep rooted pride in the strength of togetherness.

The soul-drenched chorus is a sonic feast (the sample is classic Jodeci track: “Cry For You.” Heavy!) and really lends itself to the meaning of the track. I have to take a minute to talk about that choice. Mr. Lee pulls out a classic ballad about longing, love and an unrestrained passion for the supposed female object of the song and flips it to represent the same thing, but about the South; an inspired choice, to be sure.

Bun B starts the song off with a verbal lashing to those who don’t give the bottom of the map its due in the hip-hop landscape and proceeds to do his absolute best to murder the Mr. Lee-produced offering and he succeeds. Launching himself into a dissertation on what the “Dirty South” really is, Bun B rhymes:

15s bammin’
and the base keep kickin/Cadillac do slammin’
on dem 4-4’s tippin/We ain't trippin just flippin’/these haters dip when they see us (when they see us)/Cause they can neva’ beat us, best us, or be us.

Truly makes me long for the days of songs like Biggie and Jay’s “Brooklyn’s Finest.” Hell, even “Déjà Vu (Uptown Baby)” from Lord Tariq and Peter Gunz, would do. I say that because just from the way that Bun feels his city, Port Arthur, Texas, you can understand his passion with his region, a passion that I’m sure all of us has felt at one point or another. It doesn’t end there, however, because Officer Rick Ross smothers the cut as well with his molassess-like baritone.

The highlights are in the bars that David Banner and the 8-Ball, MJG tandem serve. While Mr. Bannes growls:

Mississippi's my home/’Til I'm dead and I'm gone/I know I put it on my back, held dat bitch up alone/With no label b-backin’/Pride split into fractions

The Memphis duo give their own monologues that invoke that love and dignity that the south really does reperesent. 8-Ball’s verse is not so much a verse as it is a nod at ever southern artist that has made a significant mark in the game as we know it: UGK, OutKast, the Geto Boys, Lil Wayne, T.I. Three 6, So So Def and Jermaine Dupri, Chamillionaire, Rap-A-Lot records; the list goes on and on and MJG then throws himself right in with a dirty south grammar/history lesson :

Everything that I been raised to love/The wheels that my grandmamma gave to us/ racial profilin’, police harass are regular days to us/You say door, we say do’
You say four, we say fo’/
You say whore, we say ho’
You want more, but we want mo’

The dialogue will never end between the northerners and southerners over who is doing more and why the other isn’t and it’s a good dialogue. What all us fathful listners must not forget to do is appreciate all the good about what hip-hop is and what it’s become: a multi-coastal, multi-lingual (if you can understand 100% of southern slang and you’re not from there, then kudos to you), beast of a phenomenon. Songs like this one remind me of how much good does come out of the area below the Mason Dixon.

Sometimes you have to listen just a little harder to appreciate it.

{I thought I would throw on the Jodeci sample as well, for good measure.}

“We’re Still Bangin’, We Never Lost Power”

Solidarity
written by K Billy

New York has been missing that in it’s hip-hop for quite some time. It’s there in spurts now, nothing consistent. You get a few artists on the same track, yeah, but nothing like how it was back in the 90’s. In thinking about that, I was led to think about a track that, in many ways, symbolized the apex of New York hip-hop solidarity.

Right at the doorway of the new millennium, a mediocre movie called “The Corruptor” came out. But it wasn’t the movie that compelled me to write this. Rather it was the soundtrack, more specifically a track called “5 Boroughs. ” I remember this particular track because of the sheer number of artists featured on it. If I recall correctly (wikipedia helps a great deal here), you had KRS-One, Vigilante, Killah Priest, Redman, Cam’ Ron, Prodigy of Mob Deep, Keith Murray, Buck Shot of Black Moon, Run of Run-DMC and Bounty Killer. 9 emcees on one track back then was a bit of a big deal and it was not as prevalent as it seems to be now.

KRS provides a strong beginning to the track as he reps the Bronx in his verse in classic KRS form, bobbing and weaving through the beat:

“Much quicker than them lyrically trickin' ‘em/my Tribe be on a Quest like Tip and them/On every avenue puttin' the full clip in em/Splittin' and strippin' em down while spittin' a round…”

Sometimes, I forget how prolific a lyricist KRS-One really is. You hear his verse and the way he’s just throwing words out and stringing them together so easily and it’s easy to remember why BDP was one of the hottest to ever do it.

I love Keith Murray’s verse from this joint. The Long Island born rapper gives us a reminder of why he may be one of the most underrated rappers to ever spit.

“I'm dead serious/even though you see me smiling’/Rough enough to break New York from Long Island”

His Def Squad compatriot Redman gives an equally strong performance on this one and, truth be told, it’s probably one of the better verses he’s ever put together in my opinion (“My paragraph alone is worth five mics (uh-huh)/A twelve song LP, that's thirty-six mics (uh-huh)/And while you win Un [signed] Hype (uh-huh)/I spit on your mic/and tell you {fuck you} and that {bitch} on your bike.”) The highlights of this track are almost too much to mention, but the point is, to have so many NY emcees just spitting; nothing pretentious, nothing ridiculously heady, was such a dope feeling. It’s like they all just hit the studio and had the mean cipher going. I didn’t even mention Rev Run’s verse on this one. His flow is mean.

It’s not exactly rare that I get worked up for a song featuring many artists or even artists from NY, but this is one that I remember feeling extreme pride in. I bought the soundtrack just for it (it was supposed to be featured on KRS-One’s yet unreleased LP Maximum Strength) and while the album wasn’t exactly a great one, this one song actually made the $13.99 worth it for me.

“The five boroughs of death, we rep to death.” I love New York…

Yes yes yall, and you don't stop...

“I wasn't salty she was wit the Boyz N the Hood” K. Billy

Last week, I touched on battle rap in some of its more recent incarnations, drawing on some of those examples and trying to reconcile what makes a great battle song. Jus gave us some quality examples on Wednesday, but he didn’t name every great battle song there was. Back in the early 90’s Ice Cube and a young Chi-town rapper named Common Sense got into one of the strangest and most unpredictable tiffs ever put on wax. However, the conflict resulted in one of Comm’s hardest songs ever.

I don’t really remember the impact that some of the early battles had on hip-hop. Most of the effect for me was residual. However, once I did get the opportunity to appreciate some of what was going on, I dug in the crates quite often so I remember picking up Common’s “The Bitch in You” a little while after it had already come out and their battle was long since quieted.

Besides being a battle song, it was just a good track. Well produced, lyrically strong; with the right amount of fervor, it becomes something more than just a nice song: “A bitch ni**a with an attitude named Cube,” is the first line. From there, he goes on to somehow simultaneously show Cube and the Westside Connection his ass while also trying to show respect at the same time: ”Now what the fuck I look like/dissin’ a whole coast/you ain’t made shit dope since AmeriKKKas Most…” Harsh words from the usually passive Comm, no?

The interesting thing about this song that works to differentiate it from a lot of the battle songs that have come out in the past or since, is that you can almost tell that Common is genuinely hurt by some of Cube’s remarks in “Westside Slaughterhouse,” an aptly titled track featuring lines like: “All you suckas want to dis the pacific/But you buster ni**as never get specific/Used to love her mad cause we fucked her/pussy whipped bitch with no common sense.” Comm’s words were probably taken out of context, especially considering it was really only one line in “Used to Love H.E.R.” that makes any reference whatsoever to the boys from the left coast, but it ended up creating one of the best written battle raps ever done. It may not be the best one, but it’s damn near close.

Diss Records...

Battle Rap Written by K. Billy

Hip-hop artists have a way of being multi-faceted. You get the conscious, pensive songs and your braggadocios, flamboyant ones. One relationship that has always proved intriguing to me is the constant game of shifting between collaboration and criticism that artists seem to play regularly. The culprits are much lazier with theirs nowadays than they had been in the past. Barring a few exceptions, there may not have been very many battle songs put out in the last 15. What we get now are diss tracks, but really, what’s the difference? Is LL’s verbal diatribe against Hammer and Kool Moe Dee on “To Da Break of Dawn” any different from the musical game of “the dozens” that Luda and T.I. play on “Stomp” any different?

I’m not really one to say, although I think the diss records we get now border on immaturity. Shawty Lo’s “Dunn, Dunn” comes to mind in that regard. All I can think is “whatever.” Perhaps that’s not a fair example, though. Because, although that song is supposed to be a diss track towards T.I., it’s not like you would know it. Not like, say, the wildly straightforward barbs thrown on the aforementioned “Stomp.” Still, even though it’s easy to spot the target of their respective anger, the rest of their verses are mired in the standard themes of today’s rap music. That being said, it doesn’t make it a good battle record. But we end up at the same point anyway. What is a good battle record if you can’t tell about whom the artist is talking? More than that, what’s the real difference between a diss track and a battle record, if there is one to begin with?

I wanted to take this post and offer you, the readers the opportunity to ask yourself that question and next week, I want to give up my own theories. Until then, take in these tracks and see where you draw the line.

Young Buck, TI, The Game, & Ludacris - Stomp


Tupac - Hit Em Up


L.L.Cool J - Mama said knock you out


50 Cent I Smell Pu**y

H.E.R......

It’s Bigger Than…
written by K.T. aka K.Billy

I’m sitting in my room right now, watching VH1 soul. It’s 11:29pm and instead of thinking about what to write for Thursday’s post, I’m just writing. Justin Timberlake’s “My Love” happens to be the next set of sexually suggestive and exhaustingly choreographed images that fill the screen. So, I’m watching this video, less watching and more listening, and it suddenly hits me how “hip-hop” this R&B video sounds. That’s not really anything new though, hip-hop has been as much a part of R&B as the A minor has. Still, I can’t help asking myself – and this is actually a question I present myself often – what is hip-hop?

I mean, maybe 20 years ago, that question would have been easier to answer. But even now, as I listen to T.I. and Justin Timberlake do a song together (seeing it written down kind of makes me chuckle a bit), I am honestly having trouble with that answer. Seriously, there is probably not one answer to that query, and there probably never will be, but what do you say to someone who comes from a complete pop culture vacuum and asks you to explain it? Does it mean anything that you would have to explain it to someone coming from a pop culture vacuum? Is it a feeling or is it a true distinction of beat and lyric? One could argue that much of the music that R. Kelly put out in the early 90’s was some form of hip-hop: “Back and Forth” (R. Kelly produced it), “She’s Got That Vibe.”

I may be grabbing at straws a bit, maybe it’s just late, but I don’t think there is a clear definition of hip-hop anymore. For better or worse, it’s reached that rarefied air where it’s a lifestyle in and of itself. People have written about this before yes, but I suppose it’s not until you reach that understanding for yourself that you truly realize its implications. Hip-hop is whatever you choose it to be I suppose. That may not be the answer everyone gives, but it’s the one I am sticking to. It’s much too malleable a thing to lend itself to one definition or the other. Like rock and roll, it’s become too popular to define, too popular to support itself, so it exploded into a million different sub-genres, not unlike a paint-filled water balloon.
I love hip-hop, I’m just not always 100% sure what it is I am in love with.
Would love to hear your thoughts, though…

"Give it up for my shorty..."

“I Reminisce about My Ghetto Princess Everyday…”
written by K. Billy

Love…it’s trials and it’s tribulations have been at the center of my life as of late. You may know what it feels like, but unless you’re in it, IN it, the true significance escapes you; the affect that a person, singular, can have on your psyche. Expressing this in normal conversation is difficult enough; The Lost Boys had their own way.

21 words said it all: “A ghetto love is the law that we live by/day by day I wonder why my shorty had to die…” It’s clear from those first bars, there was a quality about this song that brought it closer to you. Like Meth and Mary’s tribute to Marvin and Tammi on “You’re All I Need,” “Renee” makes an impact on the heart. Mr. Cheeks, an underrated writer, expertly weaves a visual tapestry with his words, making real for us the love he felt for his “ghetto princess.” You could almost be walking behind him, watching his fateful meeting with Renee taking place as he leaves John Jay College. The conversation begins and they connect over their differences in smoking techniques. Classic.

This song was made in the murky era of mid-1990’s hip-hop when the genre was making it’s transition ever more slowly into the more materialistic and superficial commercial product we see today. But, the boys from South Jamaica, Queens retain the lyricism of their predecessors and craft a joint that is at the same time real and surreal. I can only hope very few of you readers have experienced the loss of love, let alone the lost life of a love. Whether Mr. Cheeks is talking about himself or building a story from scratch, all I can think about is: “Ayo, I never been in love/but every time I’m burstin' in and out of state it’s shorty that I’m thinkin’ of…”
You’d be a little hard pressed to find a song recently that displays this kind of simple declaration of a man’s love for a woman. Similes and metaphors are nice, but sometimes, you just want someone to say it, no confusion, and no room for misinterpretation. Even if they forego the “Lupe Fiasco” approach, the content rarely gets more intimate than describing the different positions and places they’ve blessed. Again, cool, but not all the time. The album this song was featured on happened to be a good one, with “Jeeps, Lex Coupe, Bimaz and Benz” and “Music Makes Me High” being the other highlights on it, so “Renee” only helped to bolster its reputation. Still, it remains one song I can play if I need to remind myself how it feels to love a woman…

**A.M., this was for you. Thank you.

On the paper trail...

Changing His Tune?
written by K. Billy

I wanted to take some time to dive into a song that I have been spending a lot of time listening to over the past couple of weeks. I think we can all say with confidence that we have, at some point in our lives, been faced with some kind of adversity; a hurdle so daunting, you would even doubt your own ability to clear it. Well, T.I. has had his own issues, of the legal variety, and was kind enough to share them with us in the form of his first single (unofficial) off of the upcoming Paper Trail album.

I don’t really talk about T.I. much. In fact the last time I wrote about him, there was still snow on most people’s front porches. However, I have to give this man some ink because although I think he was incredibly stupid and inexplicably dense in getting arrested and brought up on fed charges (again), the joint I am referring to “No Matter What,” is possibly one of the more inspiring hip-hop songs I have heard in a long while.

Granted, T.I. is a man who is known to his fans as a didactic fellow. He can usually be heard preaching about why people shouldn’t follow in his footsteps (see “Doin’ My Job” and “Be Better Than Me”). Makes you wonder why he doesn’t follow his own advice. But, “No Matter What” trumps both those songs because of the raw sincerity. Listening to it, one thing becomes evident: T.I. definitely wrote this song. Now, for many of the people who are reading this post or who listen to rap at all, this may not be such a big revelation. However, it’s worth noting that Mr. Harris stopped reading from the pages after the I’m Serious album dropped. What does that mean for the listener? The emotions are still raw. When you’re reading something, a piece of prose, poetry, or otherwise, one usually vividly relives the feeling of what is written because the words are right there, in front of you. You are forced to involve yourself into them. Unlike going off the top of the head and memorizing or constructing bars, when emotions can shift and change just as quickly as Lil Wayne changes his flow.

The most jarring part of listening to this song is how vulnerable Tip sounds:
“I was born without a dime, out the gutter I climbed/Spoke my mind and didn't stutter one time/Ali said even the greatest gotta suffer sometime”

And suffer he is. You watch anyone of his interviews and he certainly SEEMS to be remorseful following a “severe lapse in judgment” to say the least. But there is something that this song offers us that his interviews can’t: a glimpse of Clifford Harris, being introspective and more importantly, revelatory, though for a man in his early thirties, many of life’s lessons seem to have fallen on deaf ears before now. However, ever the braggadocio, he makes several attempts to humble himself on this track:

"Apologies to the fans/I hope you can understand it/life can change your direction/even when you ain't plan it/All you can do it handle it/worst thing you can do is panic"

No one will ever accuse T.I. of panicking, but after this latest run in, his spirits are still high when they definitely could have been shattered and I won’t glorify his situation, but I will say that I am happy that it happened to him because he needs to take a long hard look and see what it is he’s doing. Honestly, if this song is any indication, the Paper Trail release should be interesting.

Unfortunately, despite the strong note of this track, his legal troubles will cast a shadow over what should be a much happier time for him. Regardless of how long his sentence is, or even what it is, Tip the hustler always seems to come around when things are really picking up for T.I. Hopefully, Paper Trail will lead to some better decision-making.

"Her name windy, and she like to blow trees..."

Chicago-ans ‘til Chicago ends and they blow like Chicago Wind…
Written by K. Billy

In part two of my Chi-town series, I want to take the time out to highlight some of the most influential acts to come out of the Windy City. A couple you may have heard of, maybe not. Though the list is only 4 deep, these 4 are probably going to have some pretty interesting, if not great careers. Hip-hop’s future looks bright on the shoulders of these four Chicago-ans.

1. I’ll start with the Kidz in the Hall. If you’ve been reading PTM, you might have seen them mentioned a few times in some of our posts or when gWiz throws something lovely up on here for you to download. For good reason, Naledge and Double O are making quite the name for themselves and the UPenn graduates sure do know how to throw an album release party. I can tell you I personally attended their shindig at S.O.B’s in NYC last night and it was quite the show. They exude both an innocence/purity and experience that can only come from being groomed in hip-hop at an Ivy League institution. Their sophmore album: The In Crowd should do well because of it.
Notable Tracks:
Drivin’ Down the Block
Love Hangover Featuring Estelle
The In Crowd

Inner Me

2. This one is a no-brainer. Lupe Fiasco had been doing his thing on the mix tape scene since 3 or 4 years ago and his debut album, 2006’s Food And Liquor, made believers out of a lot of people. In all honesty, he may be the reason that people are really checking the Chi for good hip-hop now (sorry, Ye). His frantic wordplay, undeniable intelligence and clever metaphors make Mr. Fiasco one of the best MC’s in the game, let alone the Chi. His second album The Cool served to further raise his level of prominence and I am sure many fans are salivating as they wait for his third and possibly final, studio album – L.U.P.End – to drop.

Notable Tracks:
Switch
Put You On Game

We Just Might Be Okay
Gotta Eat
Hip-Hop Saved My Life

3. Two weeks ago, I talked about Mikey Rocks and Chuck Inglish, otherwise known as The Cool Kids. But, self-important titles aside, these kids are really cool. Granted, they lack the lyrical complexity of fellow Chi-town up-and-comers Kidz in the Hall, but, quite simply, the sheer dopiness of their production more than makes up for that. That’s not to say these dudes can’t put a rhyme together, either. It’s truly homage to the days of Eric B. and Rakim (not comparing them mind you) or Kool Moe Dee. Their style is very 80’s but the effect is definitely exponentially more immediate.

Notable Tracks:
Black Mags
Gold and A Pager
‘88

Gettin’ It Featuring Lil Wayne
I Rock

4. Kid Sister is another artist that Kanye seemed to help materialize out of the blue when he appeared on her smash single “Pro Nails.” Homage to around the way girls nationwide, this song truly exemplifies Melissa Young’s style. A light speed flow and seamless weaving through subject matter too can characterize her. MC Lyte she isn’t, but she employs her own quirky style, incorporating a lot of synths and high tempo house/trance-style music and it really does match her persona. You can watch her in a video or listen to her over a dope track like “Control” and really feel as if she’s authentic and that’s possibly where her draw mostly lies: her ability to be relatable without really trying. Admittedly, she may not appeal to everyone as she is way left of center, but she makes you dance, she makes you bob your head with the music and most importantly, she makes you want to have fun. In the end, isn’t that what hip-hop is all about?

Notable Tracks
Beeper
Pro Nails Featuring Kanye West

Switchboard
Control

Trying to encapsulate the whole of Chicago’s influence on the music in two posts and a 4-point list isn’t really doing it justice, but it’s definitely evident that we are seeing a major movement happening out there, independent of mainstays like Kanye West, Common and Twista. It’s a welcome shift though and I can only hope cats like the aforementioned continue to put pressure on the other regions around the country to put out seriously good rap music. Only time will tell, but, for now, I’ll hang my hat on the four acts right here.

"I'm coming home again..."

“And You Say Chi-City, Pt. 1: My Name is Windy and I like to Blow Trees…”
Written by K. Billy

As I wrote my post about the Chicago-based duo The Cool Kids last week, a very relevant question came through my mind: Why are there so many dope acts coming out of the Chi suddenly? In regarding this question, I sought to first understand what Chicago actually meant to the hip hop game as it stands now.

Let me start by saying that hip-hop music didn’t really get going in the Chi at the same time as it did over here on the East Coast. It makes sense, although breaking crews were putting it down out there, the music never really took off. Nick Salsa brought the east coast breaker’s attitude with him when he moved from N.Y. to Chicago in the 1970’s. He’s still known as the pioneer of the art up there after his crew, C.T.A., was formed.

The music scene didn’t take off until 1980, a year after “Rapper’s Delight” hit the airwaves. Casper released his first single “Groovy Ghost Show” at this time and it is still widely regarded as the Chi’s first hit single. It’s also rumored that this is the same man who brought us the “classic” “Cha-Cha Slide”

Fast forward about 11 years and we come to probably the most significant moment in Chicago hip hop history. A young, up-and-coming rapper named Common Sense got some shine in the national spotlight after he was featured in the Source’s Unsigned Hype section in 1991. Shortly thereafter, Twista – then known as Tung Twista – became the first Chicago act signed to a major label following the release of his album “Running Off at the Mouth.”

As 1993 dawned on us, we were treated to the first album from Common Sense, entitled “Can I Borrow A Dollar.” The album would prove to be instrumental in introducing the Jazzy, sample-heavy and more melodic hip-hop tracks that we are so familiar with today. The tracks “Breaker 1/9,” “Soul by the Pound,” and “Take it EZ” still remain as one of Common’s most critically acclaimed singles.

Twista would re-emerge on Do or Die’s hit single “Po Pimp” (who doesn’t remember “do ya wanna ride/in the backseat of a caddy/choppin’ it up with Do or Die?”) and Common would drop “I Used to Love H.E.R.” in 1994. Shortly thereafter, Da Brat would follow Jermaine Dupri into the national spotlight with her hit single “Funkdafied.”

The early days of Chicago hip-hop were littered with cues from several different sources. The funk and easy attitudes of the West Coast effectively merged with the more party ready, upbeat style of the East Coast while infusing it’s own rapid-fire, sing-songy styles into it. In a way, the Chi-town movement signified the growth of hip-hop as a genre and its impending evolution. Acts like Twista, Common, Do or Die, Crucial Conflict and Da Brat borrowed heavily from both east coast and west coast influences and it wouldn’t be until almost 10 years later that we would see the Chi emerge as its very own hotbed of musical authority.
Stay Tuned for part 2 next week….

Twista: “From the Tip of My Tongue” Runnin’ Off At Da Mouth

Common Sense: “Take It E.Z.” Can I Borrow A Dollar?

Da Brat: “Funkdafied” Funkdafied

Crucial Conflict: “Hay” The Final Tic

Cool Kids...

Too Cool for School
written by K.T.

In our constant search of new and impressive music from current hip-hop artists, we sometimes forget about all the unsigned and more refreshing talent that’s out there. That said, a few weeks ago, my homegirl did me the pleasure of introducing me to a hip-hop duo out of what seems to be the new Mecca of the genre. Hailing from Chicago and Detroit, The Cool Kids are made up of Antoine “Mikey Rocks” Reed and Evan “Chuck Inglish” Ingersoll and their sound is very reminiscent of mid-to-late 80’s hip-hop. Ingersoll is the primary tracklayer of the two and his beats are sparse in comparison to the wild, complex sounds of mainstream hip-hop. Check the joints “Black Mags” and “Gold and a Pager” To date, the duo has released five EP’s and their heavily anticipated (at least by me) album The Bake Sale hits stores May 20th under their C.A.K.E. Recordings label and distributed by independent outfit Chocolate Recordings.

To be sure, their songs do not have the tenacity of a Lil Wayne or the maturity and depth of a Jay-Z or Kanye, but if hip-hop is really going to advance as a musical genre, it’s groups like The Cool Kids (who are only teens by the way) who are going to move it forward. Their most well known song: “Black Mags” are all about those tiny BMX freestyle bikes and it makes you wonder about the scene out in the Midwest, where skate and bike culture have a pretty strong influence on the hip-hop culture there.

What makes me happiest about these two is the original sound. It invokes the Neptunes when you hear some of Ingersoll’s tracks, but they are so out there and eccentric at times, you almost can’t help but try to follow along. Their lyrical style, while still needing polish, is very good as it is. They don’t take themselves too seriously and the metaphors and wordplay is evident. These kids are definitely cool in their own right and here’s to hoping they continue to pump their sound through the streets.

P.S. – I think it’s time we give the Chi some real love. The talent coming out of there is serious right now. Look out next week for part one of the series: “…And You Say Chi City”

The website: www.coolkids.com
The videos: “Black Mags”

The tracks:

Voice of the young people?

Reasonable Doubts
written by Kyle Turner

I know that my posts of late have drifted from the original vein of analyzing an artist’s songs and lyrics to try to find the deeper meaning within the words to a more analytical stance in interpreting hip-hop’s greater affect on the culture of which we claim to be apart. So, in light of the recent verdict in the case of the People v. Sean Bell, I choose to take this time to encroach upon the relative, selective neutrality that so many our very visible hip-hop artists choose to employ in situations like this.

I had the very distinct pleasure of having a discussion about this very topic with two of my closest and most intelligent associates over the past week. I’m not sure how many of you had the moderate “pleasure” of hearing Jay-Z’s diss track towards Washington Wizards guard Deshawn Stevenson; it was this frivolous use of lyrical talent that sparked the initial discussion. “Why,” my friend asked, “does Jay feel it necessary to make a song addressing such a meaningless topic?” I am paraphrasing, to be sure, but it was an interesting question. Why address the feud between two dueling millionaires and not a more pertinent issue?

No, Jay-Z, or any rapper for that matter, is obligated to address every current event that happens to grace the front page of the Post or the Times. As my other friend stated, “this particular issue didn’t inspire him.” Fair enough, people feel passionate about certain things and dispassionate about others. But from a man who claims to be “young vito/voice of the young people/mouthpiece for hustlers/ventriloquist for doublers…” he seems quite silent about this.

Is it my place to decide what any artist should and should not be writing – or not writing in Jay’s case – about? Absolutely not. These are grown men we are talking about and they are responsible for everything they do and don’t do. Still, I personally find it peculiar that a man who would take the time to include a song about hurricane Katrina (“Minority Report”) on Kingdom Come and criticize Al Sharpton (on “Say Hello” from American Gangster) wouldn’t find a moment to at least say a word or two about this. My friend told me that he isn’t a political figure and therefore, shouldn’t be expected to wax extensively on a topic like this. However, I would argue the contrary. Shouldn’t a non-politico be free from the reins of constituent alienation? Artists like him are in unique positions in that they command the ear of the general public and more so a group that often isn’t privy to the goings on of a system that tends not to favor them while also possessing nearly immeasurable wealth; certainly enough to shield them somewhat from any legal backlash.

Though my post may focus on Jay, I implore you, the reader to look deeper than the who’s and the what’s. Whether we want to admit this or not, many of the artists we listen to on the daily are seen by the greater public as representatives. It’s an unfair and even a foolhardy association due to the assumption that hip-hop culture and black culture are synonymous. Put simply they are not, however, we must acknowledge the influence that artists like Jay-Z, Diddy, Kanye West and Lil Wayne have. Though I won’t be presumptuous enough to assume they won’t eventually share their thoughts on the acquittal of Detectives Oliver, Isnora and Cooper, I will be bold enough to hope that they will. Jay is right, Sharpton doesn’t speak for all of us; I just hope that our artists are strong enough to do the speaking for themselves. I don’t want to keep asking if anybody makes real shit anymore.

aKeys...

Ms. Keys Gets Gangsta
written by K.T.

“‘Gangsta rap’ was a ploy to convince black people to kill each other,” she says, putting down the sandwich. “‘Gangsta rap’ didn’t exist.” Come again? A ploy by whom? She looks at us like it’s the dumbest question in the world. “The government.”
Alicia Keys, Blender Magazine, May 2008

Hmmmm…and I wonder if you know what it means, Ms. Keys, to an entire generation of people who prescribed to gangster rap in its heyday, to say something like this. This past week the hip-hop world has been in quite a tiff in response to the comments made by one, Ms. Alicia Augello-Cook. And no one has taken her words to heart quite like Mr. Curtis Jackson, otherwise known as 50 Cent.


Usually, I am not one to cosign with 50 Cent, but, begrudgingly, I can see he his point very clearly. His insight is based on what gangsta rap was for so many young black men in its original stages. As a form of political expression and cathartic release, it worked for groups like N.W.A., The Geto Boys and artists like Ice-T and Tupac.. He even goes so far as to admit that he “tries to like (Alicia Keys’ music)” and feels that she isn’t making an attempt to understand why people enjoy his. I can only hope that the words that were written are inaccurate because although the formulaic stance that hip-hop has taken over the past 10 years has soured many true fans’ view of the genre, we mustn’t forget such a prevalent piece of music history. The overt references to salacious behavior and excessive materialism so apparent today notwithstanding, Gangsta rap, as it used to be, is as much apart of the history of hip-hop as Grandmaster Flash, Kool Herc and Fab Five Freddy are. You can’t truly appreciate it without acknowledging that. Though I don’t necessarily enjoy 50’s music that much, his point is loud and clear.

The link for the Blender magazine interview: http://www.blender.com/articles/default.aspx?key=21056&pg=3

My neck, My back....Nah Man kick rocks

Khia + VH1 = Next Female Rap Superstar???!!!
written by K.T.

When the world of hip-hop merges with the world of pop culture, no one can say with confidence that they know what to expect. Sometimes you come out with “YO! MTV Raps” or “Hip Hop Honors” and other times you get “The (White) Rapper Show.” Being the ever-noble purveyors of quality entertainment they are, VH1 has decided to reprise its role as gatekeeper of new talent into the rap game with its new show “Miss Rap Supreme,” hosted once more by MC Serch and featuring newbie YoYo. For those of you who didn’t catch the show’s premiere two nights ago, 10 female emcees are forced to live under one roof while performing tasks that measure not only their rhyme skills, but their mental toughness. It’s format – much the same as “Rapper” – is designed at once to enamor you with these women while at the same time make you lower head at their antics.

The show, at its core, is a very good idea. It wasn’t too long ago PTM brought up the lack of a decent female MC in the hip-hop game and a show like this is exactly what will shine some light on the ladies that are really doing it for real. However, the glaring flaw with this show is its inclusion of the original “Thug Miss,” Khia herself, ladies and gentlemen.

From the time that she sets foot in the house, she makes no secret of her “successes” as an artist repeatedly letting those in the house, behind the cameras and in front of the TV aware of the 800,000 units that “Misses” pushed worldwide, largely due to the buzz that “My Neck, My Back” generated. She conveniently failed to mention that her next single, “You My Girl” never made the charts and her second album – 2006’s "Gangstress" moved 10,000 copies worldwide. But who cares about that? She is a certified gold rapper; she is light years ahead of the rest of these women talent-wise, right?

Wrong. WRONG.

The unfortunate thing about Khia being on this show is that her ego, however inflated and misguided, will inevitably overshadow some of the more promising talents on this show. A prime example of this is the show’s elimination, for which the losing team’s competitors must write 16 bars to convince Serch and YoYo of their worth. Khia, for some reason, decided that this is an opportunity to construct the longest hook in rap history; an incoherent, almost inaudible mishmash of lyrics ending with her spelling out and repeating the phrase “respect me.”

Wow.

Serch decided to keep her over a promising German rapper named Lionezz and that is precisely my point. Khia had the opportunity to make a career and she didn’t fully capitalize on that. Now for her to show up in this house with women who really have a chance to get put on and act as if she is just coming off of some Kanye-like Grammy family status is preposterous. I won’t knock her as a person, but as an artist, she’s got nothing left. Her antics in the first show brought light away from talents like Jersey Peach Chiba and Byata. Those sistas can spit for real and I hope they do get some exposure through this show.

Hopefully, Khia won’t be anywhere near them when it happens.

Killah!!

Down and Out
written by K.T.

In last week’s post, I had the pleasure of writing about one of the dudes whose skill and versatility makes him not only one of the better guys doing it right now, but also one of the most liked out there. I chose to go in a different direction for this one.

One of the most frustrating people I have listened in my career as a hip-hop fan, Cameron Giles a.k.a. Cam’ron has enjoyed a rather precipitous drop in popularity since he blessed us with the classic “.357 (Magnum P.I.).” Still one of my favorite songs to this day, “.357” showed us all what Cam’ron was supposed to be: A witty, hungry and, in true Harlem fashion, somewhat braggadocios MC. I still remember the video to this day: he and childhood friend Mason Betha running through the streets of West Harlem.

I won’t go out on a limb and say that 1998’s Confessions of Fire was a classic album, but it was definitely a promising start. Joints like “Me and My Boo” with Charli Baltimore (wow, I don’t believe I actually used that name again), “Glory,” “D. Rugs,” and the hilariously absurd “Confessions” were standouts and gave reason to believe that Killa Cam had something new to offer the evolving hip-hop landscape.

Not so much.

His follow up release S.D.E. (short for Sex, Drugs and Entertainment) was a sharp left turn away from what he had begun with Confessions. What still goes down in my mind as one of the worst albums I’ve ever listened to, S.D.E. contained little of the Cam’ron from his debut release. Need examples here. And with that, he had effectively de-evolved from the witty rhyme-spitter we were introduced to and into a caricature of sorts, fully embracing the stereotypes of your everyday trapper-turned-rapper.

Since that time, Cam’s successes have been spotty at best, if they’ve been apparent at all. Despite Justin’s assertion, Purple Haze was a decently crafted album. Tracks like “Down and Out,” “Reasons,” and “Killa Cam” were a couple of highlights. Now, mind you, they weren’t on the same lyrical level as the highlights on Confessions.

Now, we’ve arrived at a space in which Cam’ron has become something of a running joke. His lyrics have regressed to the point of incoherence and it’s truly a sad development for me. I bought that Confessions of Fire album and was pretty impressed with it, despite the deficiency in my hip-hop literacy then compared to now. To hear Cam tell it, he now keeps the “boosters boostin’” and the “’puters putin’.” One particularly hilarious line out of “All the Chickens” from 2000’s S.D.E.:

Like Cam is a son of a bitch/That'll tell a girl, ma, wash under your tits/But I, got a girl, we all call her "Licka"/Cuz she drink liquor, let another girl lick her”

Really? That happened to be an old line, but Cam has consistently lowered the bar on lyrical acuity every year of his career. Unfortunately, he’s reached Noreaga Melvin Flynt: Da Hustla – type ridiculousness. I continue to hope that he surprises me the way he did on “Gone” from Kanye’s Late Registration, though. Unfortunately, I don’t think I’ll be reliving those Confessions days any time soon.

Ironman

Ghost In The Lyrics
written by KT

Ghostface Killah might be the best hip-hop artist no one talks about.

I should just end this post right there, no back up statements, no reason for such a strong assertion, but then, I wouldn’t be taking it very far past the margin now would I? Let me start by clarifying that statement. Ghostface is one of the best hip-hop artists no one talks about (I’ll throw fellow Wu-Tang member Raekwon in that same category). But if you are in anyway versed in hip-hop and know a little history of the genre’s rise, then you know precisely who Ghostface a.k.a. Tony Starks a.k.a. Wallabee Champ a.k.a. Ironman a.k.a. you get the point, is.

One of the most lyrically diverse, dexterous and probably the most amusing rapper this side of the Mason Dixon (props to Ludacris), Ghostface has made a name for himself off of a distinctively grimy, hungry flow and often times, nonsensical lyrics. Need an example? The chorus to “Apollo Kids” off the Supreme Clientele LP goes: “Aiyyo this rap is like ziti/facin’ me real tv/crashin’ high speeds/strawberry kiwi.” If you understand exactly to what he is referring to, please, feel free to submit a post during Thursday’s Lyrical Exercise, you will have earned it.

But there is undoubtedly something about Tony Starks, be it the wallabies, the giant golden eagle he wears on his wrist or, heaven forbid, his talent, that draws us, the listener in deeper. Admittedly, it takes a while to warm up to his often times frenetic flow and whiplash-speed subject matter switches, but once you are able to sift through that, you find yourself not only listening to a man with a wealth of experiences under his belt, but also a dude who knows how to put together a conceptual song.

The bottom line is that Ghost is one of the few dudes who can craft a whole song about Kilos of cocaine and its transport throughout the cities of NY (Fishscale’s “Kilo”) and follow up further down the track listing with a hypnotic ode to young black girl growing up tough (“Big Girl” on the same album) and actually lead you believe every word of what he’s spitting on both tracks. Can Nas, the king of hip-hop hypocrisy say the same thing?

Therein lies the biggest enigma about Dennis Coles. His persona and charisma does not allow you much room to question his authenticity.Very rarely, I find, is it that you can listen to him and not truly feel his words are the honest truth. He rhymes with such fervor and sincerity, it’s almost impossible to penetrate. Check out “Josephine” from Hi-Tek’s Hi-Teknology, Vol. 2:

“Yo, I know this chick from the hood named Courtney Cox

And her brain is easy to pick like faulty locks

She's awfully hot, asshole burning like tabasco

She used to be thick, it's like where the hell her ass go

Started smoking weed and graduated to the pipe

Thought that she could quit but her calculations wasn't right…”

He possesses a rather uncanny ability to weave the whimsical with the more serious subject matter (“asshole burnin’ like Tabasco” hilariously sad). And it works most times. I won’t sit here and praise him without acknowledging some of his past shortcomings with albums like Bulletproof Wallets and The Pretty Toney Album, but while those albums weren’t great, listening to Clientele back in 2000 and Fishscale last year definitely reminded me of why I enjoy him so much in the first place. There is an unadulterated quality to him that allows the listener to vibe and let his words push you through to another realm. As evidenced in the excerpt from “Josephine,” his talent truly lies in the ability to both talk and rap at the same time. Just as sure as you could hear him rapping those words, you could hear him saying those same sentences to you on any street corner in NY.

So he might just embody what makes New York New York: his brash, bold and humorously aggressive nature. And maybe that’s why he’s not getting a lot of ink. Maybe he personifies the honesty that seems to be lacking in hip-hop, especially as of late.

Maybe he’s talking just enough for all of us.

Worth The Hype?

Prove It…

written by KT

First and foremost, I want to start by saying that I am not what you would call a Lil Wayne “fan.” There are some who live and die, swear, by that man’s word. I’m not one of those people. There are some who would have you believe that he is the best rapper in the game right now and for the next 10 years. I am not one of those people. I am a realist and I know what is presented to me. I know that, for the past four or five years, Dwayne Carter has been one of the most talked about artists under 30 that hip-hop has spawned in a VERY long time. With countless mixtape credits, copious YouTube hits and a mythical album with Harlem’s own Mr. Wild Card, Juelz Santana, it’s hard not to see why people can’t stop bringing this dude’s name up in conversation.

Don’t be fooled, this won’t be one of those posts where I am going to be overtly praising him for any of his musical talents or cutting him down for his shortcomings, I’m just presenting to you what’s been presented to me. In 2004, when The Carter dropped, Weezy was still a somewhat obscure artist by many people’s standards (raise your had if you can think of 5 people who owned “500 Degreez” or “Lights Out.”). And, in many ways, this was the album that brought him out to the forefront, but more specifically, the track “Go DJ,” which was produced by Mannie Fresh.

The Carter II came out a year later and, even though it was 22 tracks strong, was well received by most critics. The tracks “Hustler Muzik,” “Fireman,” “Fly In,” and “Money on My Mind” come to mind as standouts. This was another album that did well to elevate Weezy’s status even further.

In my eyes, however, he remains an enigma.

I told you that I was not a Weezy fan, but that is not to say that I don’t like or respect the dude for what he’s done. I’ll be totally frank, I felt as if the production value on the first two “Carter’s” was lacking (with the exceptions of the songs I just mentioned). Yet, here is a man who has used his vast lyrical ability and an insane work ethic (either that or the drugs just keep him awake) to pump out guest spot after mixtape after guest spot after mixtape.

As I said, I wasn’t a huge fan of the “Carter” albums. I say that because I don’t think I will be a fan of “The Carter III” when it finally hits stores May 13th. Because while this is a dude who can come up with lines like “all my kicks fly/like Liu Kang,” and spit out songs like the classic “Tha Block is Hot,” he has regressed somewhat because a lot of his best stuff has been pimped out to DJ’s and other rappers. Let us remember that Dedication 2, in my opinion the best album of his during the “Carter” era, wasn’t even supposed to be a commercially released LP. And now, “The Drought” series stands as some of his best work to date. Can we really say with confidence that the highly anticipated “The Carter III” will live up to the expectations that these mixtapes did?

Unfortunately, I doubt it.

The first single off the album, “Lollipop,” is a dope song…if you happen to be at Magic City in Atlanta or Scores in New York. The beat is infectious and regardless of whether you agree with me or not, I know that every now and then, you will find yourself humming “shawty wanna thuuuuggggg….” (R.I.P. Stat Major). But it’s not the type of song that garners heavy buzz. I happen to really like that song and I don’t care who knows it, but one can’t help but long for more from this man. Is he overrated? Nah, I wouldn’t go as far as to say that. It’s not as if he’s not one to deliver some classic verses (check the “Party Like A Rockstar,” “Crying Out For Me,” and “Dey Know” remixes if you need help understanding that: “We are not the same/I am a martian/it’s young Weezy F. baby/ no abortion – “Party Like A Rockstar remix), but at this point a lot of us are just left wondering…

“Best rapper alive? Will you even be the best rapper this summer?”

Memph Bleek is...

Nothing of Age?
written by KT

“That little nigga's peeps/it's time to put him on”

By the time I reached track 10 on Jay-Z’s venerable debut album “Reasonable Doubt,” it’s safe to say that I felt that dude was nice. I mean, I had a lot of context to back up this argument. Truth be told, I hadn’t heard Reasonable Doubt until after Volume 2 came out. I wasn’t checking for meaning and a lot of thought in my hip-hop diet back then. But the evidence was clear; I had heard him on “Money, Cash, Hoes” and “Reservoir Dogs.” He’s good.

But when I got to track 10 and saw Memphis Bleek’s name printed proudly next to Jay’s on “Coming of Age,” I was a little apprehensive; all that I’d heard from him was “Memphis Bleek Is…” which didn’t impress me much. I wasn’t expecting much from him on this joint. So, as Mr. Carter proclaimed “this little nigga’s peeps/it’s time to put him on,” in the last line of the chorus, I readied myself for what I was sure would be what I like to call, the “snooze verse.” You know, that verse on a track that you just push your mind through in order to get to the best one. Well, I was a little surprised.

‘Yo, he was nice on this one, man. Nah, I didn’t really say that,’ I can recall. That’s what I get for jumping to conclusions, huh? The hunger in his voice went perfectly with the wisdom and confidence present in Jay-Z’s. Like a mentor watching a student progress and grow into his own, Jay looked on as Memph bellowed eagerly:

“I'm out here slingin bringin'' the drama, tryin' to come up
in the game and add a couple of dollar signs to my name”

He sounded real, like he had seen Jay himself and felt the draw of the lifestyle he had built for himself. The parallel in reality was clear. The flow was perfect and his wordplay witty, much like his older counterpart. And even as Jay observes from a distance, Bleek does his own research and watches Jay while he longs for the life he has. As he moves effortlessly, gracefully from each line to the next, the infatuation becomes evident:

“I'm out here servin’ disturbin’ the peace, life could be better
like my man reclined in plush leather seats
He's sellin’ weight, I'm sellin’ eight... balls
sixteen tryin’ to graduate to pushin’ quarters y'all”

His ability to conjure up a feeling of wanton desire and weave a story with his words, he sort of reminded me of Jay on “22 Twos.” So, as he and Jay collab on the final verse and spit a two-sided diatribe, the ceiling inched higher and higher for Bleek as he stood toe to toe with his mentor. If you had listened to this album from day 1, from the day it dropped, you would have been reeled in easily by his eager flow and hungry delivery. It was as if I was listening to a younger version of the man I had begun to idolize, even as a 27 year old Shawn Carter’s voice floated through my ears.

I grew to like “Memphis Bleek is” a little more after hearing “Coming of Age” and when ”The Understanding” hit in 2000, I was sorely disappointed. Though Memphis Bleek had achieved platinum status with this record, there was much to be desired. Released around the time that rap had really come into it’s own as a commercial marketing tool, “Understanding” did nothing for the senses as Bleek didn’t seem to mature at all from the 16 year old kid he was. Did I expect the subject matter to waver so much? No, not really, but his delivery did nothing to belie his immaturity. While Jay would shine, and I mean like the sun, on Bleek’s biggest hit, “Is That Your Chick,” the Memph Man didn’t really step up from the background, at all.

Memphis Bleek’s spiral into relative obscurity had always been a fascinating one to me. Having clung so tightly while under Jay-Z’s wing, in the eyes of many (my own included), he never really left the ground. Doomed to face a public perception of mediocrity, Memphis Bleek has “The Process” slated for a 2008 release and as PTM shifts to an emphasis on how hip-hop has slipped into its own collective mediocrity, I think it’s prudent to think about whether Memphis Bleek can mature his ideas and grow a little more than he has shown so far. In the back of my mind, I want him to succeed and even Jay acknowledges that “Bleek could be one hit away his whole career.” But he needs to prove not only to us and Jay, but to himself, that he’s not satisfied with just having a place in Big Homie’s will.

Jay-Z feat. Memphis Bleek - Coming Of Age

Im a Bad Bad Boy...

Notorious B.I.G. - Gimme The Loot
written by KT

“Gimme The Loot, Gimme The Loot!” I still laugh a little bit when I hear that hook from the song of the same name. Released on 1994’s Ready To Die, I hadn’t heard this song, in earnest, until high school. You may scoff; I got into hip-hop, really into it, pretty late. And I make no apologies for that. I was in a better position to really love what I was listening to at the point I got hooked on it, and “Gimme The Loot” is probably on top of my list as far as Biggie songs go.

There aren’t many songs that won’t hold my attention if they start with the words “Muthafuckas better know.” It served as a precursor to where the rest of the song was headed, and the ride there was a crazy one. Following the story of two friends, one of which is just released from prison. The whole of the rest of the song tracks their exploits as they rob and mug just about anyone they come across.

The great thing about this song is not the content, rather it’s the colorful way that Big weaves his words together like an ornate tapestry for some of the hardest, most lucid and, quite frankly, most hilarious hip-hop lyrics ever written (“you ain’t got to explain shit/I been robbin’ muthafu**as since the slave ships”). I won’t shy away from the fact the lyrics were violent and even a little offensive, but his talent was undeniable. Regardless of what he was saying, he had me stuck with the wordplay. I can vividly remember shouting out “goodness gracious the paper/where cash at?/where the stash at?....” randomly.

I had heard Life After Death and fell in love, but having never heard Ready to Die up to that point, my brain had no context to wrap my mind around the true depth of his ability. Hearing "RTD" was the point when I realized that there was still SO much that I didn’t know about this music. As it has evolved since those hard-hitting early 90’s, so has my infatuation with it, but I will never forget how that album made me feel about not only hip hop, but Biggie himself. It’s still crazy that he’s gone and it’s still crazy how many heads are still bumping his music like it just came out.

Get Something!

Git Up, Git Out
OutKast Southernplayalisticcadillacmuzik
written by KT

While people were paying attention to the East and West Coasts for their rap diet, Outkast was getting down in the ATL back when the south wasn’t the home of ring tone rappers and the like. Yes, whether you know it or not, 3 stacks and Daddy Fat Sacks were making names for not only themselves, but for the future of the genre as a whole.

Rewind back to 1994 and to Outkast’s debut album with LaFace Records: Southernplayalisticcadillacmuzik. These two eccentric dudes coming from the south were very different from what hip-hop was used to. Drum machines and g-funk were the order of the day and Outkast bucked that trend with a heavy reliance on fractured poetry, live instrumentation and old school funk. This was a landmark album for them, but the song that puts me in a frame of mind I’m sure many of us who are on our respective grinds can relate to still rings in my ears to this day, since the very first time I’d heard it. That song? “Git Up, Git Out,” the second single off the album.

In all fairness, it’s not necessarily the most inventive song that Kast has come up with, but as a young man on my grizzly, listening to this track puts the journey to success in perspective. While Cee-Lo Green of the Goodie Mob croons, “how will you make it if you never even try?” one can’t help but focus on the uphill battle towards the goal, whatever it may be. Even as I sit here and acknowledge the extensive resume Kast boasts, this remains one of my favorite songs for the simplicity of the message and its significance to the culture they were representing.

This may be a shorter post than what you’re used to from me, but only because I wanted to focus not on the lyrics this week, but on the whole of the song and what this album meant for this group. At this point in hip-hop, at the beginning of the mid-nineties, Outkast was ushering in a new brand of the music we love. I’m going to go zone out off this track one last time. Do yourselves the favor and do the same.

"Never on schedule, but always on time"

“Can’t Forget About You”
written by KT

You know something. I like Nas.

Fairly recently, he’s been catching a lot of flack for the questionable title of his forthcoming album (I’ll refrain from typing it for my own reasons), the relative mediocrity of his last two albums (in my opinion anyway).

Still, I like Nas.

And I think most of you who read this now do, too. And even if you don’t, maybe I can convince you to give him a listen or two (just start with Illmatic). That’s why I want to take a moment to reflect on his best joint since his first joint.

There were a lot of things about Stillmatc that I – and just about everyone I knew who listened to hip-hop – liked about that album. The production value of it was very high (highlights include: “Got Ur Self A Gun,” “One Mic,” and “2nd Childhood), he obviously killed off the dude who wrote NaStradamus and came with something serious that time around and let’s be honest, after “Ether” we were wanting for this entire album to be as good as that song was.

For the most part he delivered.

I’ll be honest; there were some joints I just couldn’t rock with. The hook from “The Flyest” wasn’t very enjoyable and “Braveheart Party” was terrible, with it’s overly jerky and annoying beat underneath some boring lyrics. Still, there was a lot to appreciate about it. In particular, “Rewind” really opened my eyes and reintroduced me to the creativity he still possessed. Not only did the track Large Professor threw down on it remind me of Biggie’s “I Got A Story To Tell” (in a very good way), but to start a song from the end AND throw in lines like “The bullet goes back in the gun/The bullet hole's closin' this chest of a nigga/Now he back to square one/Screamin', "Shoot don't please.” This was the joint that proved it for me. He was back.

I think it speaks volumes of the effect that music has on you to be able to reference specific times in your life and reflect on the feeling you had listening to a particular song or album. I can tell you to have “One Mic” be the second single off of this one, was probably the best career move he’d made up to that point. People were feeling this one…seriously. There was something powerful in the song that made you want to start yelling the lyrics after the beat kicked and the tempo picked up “IF YOU REALLY THINK YOU READY TO DIE/WITH NINES OUT/THIS IS WHAT NAS IS BOUT/NIGGA THE TIME IS NOW! "

Cathartic, right?

The point here is not to suggest that Nasir somehow lost his ability, never that. Street’s Disciple and God’s Son were two good albums to follow up Stillmatic with (in all honesty, I can’t wait for the new one). I’m simply reminiscing when everyone knew how good he was. Maybe it’s a sign that our generation’s artists are becoming what our parent’s generation artists are. “Classics” and “Old School Joints of the Day” (Really? “Hypnotize?!” I remember when that came out. I saw the premiere of the video!). Yet, I’m strangely comforted in that. I want to be able to look back at hip-hop as I knew it growing up. When a lot of it was still pretty meaningful and even in the drug tales and gun toting, there was authenticity to it.

Makes you want to press rewind doesn’t it?