Category Archives: hip hop

Jasiri X: Jordan Miles

For real.  I lived in Pittsburgh and the cops are out of control.  Jasiri X has the most recent tragedy articulated through the rhymes.

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Why you should buy Weekend at Burnies

It isn’t any secret, I think Curren$y is the best emcee doing his thing right now.

Here is my short list of why y’all should embrace the Curren$y Spitta and buy his new record Weekend at Burnies.

Vancouver rioters after the NHL loss. Gotta admit these guys would look a lot more cool flashing the 'jet plane' hand sign, right?

1.  Awkward hip hop fans need something better to do with their hands.   We know that most people who listen to hip hop are really awkward rather than cool (myself included).  (Hop hop artists, on the other hand, are quite cool).   Hip hop offered many non-gang affiliates the chance to have something to do with their hands.  Almost all of  the ‘west coast,’ ‘east coast,’ pistol signs, or mimicking of supposed crip twisting of fingers is a terrible look.

Admittedly, most of us know Curren$y’s hand sign (which mimics the flying jet) as the ‘hang loose’ hand sign.  In Hawaii, it’s known as shaka — a polycultural vaguely corporate ‘greeting with the aloha spirit.”  Hey, there are worse things to throw up.

2.  Curren$y and his crew seem to be working hard to get better.

I love the arrogant rappers, but it is refreshing to hear someone simply confident in their abilities.  Curren$y writes rhymes that don’t alienate the listener with cleverness.  He models working at his craft — practicing writing better smooth rhymes.  As a result of their work, he and his jets crew: Young Roddy and Trademark the Skydiver, are getting better at not only rhyming, but also sounding better.  Witness the enjoyable punch lines and nicely timed pause in Trademark’s verse on “Still” above.

3.  Weed songs vs. coke songs or representations of wealth in a depression.   Curren$y rhymes about smoking pot.  A lot.  Living in Humboldt county, this isn’t all that strange to me.  Lets put Curren$y’s rhymes about cannabis in the context of the prevailing hip hop culture for self-expression about substances.

You could argue that expressing love for particular substances is part of selling yourself as an emcee.  Most commercially successful artists have identified substance use as part of their image through lyrics and album covers.  In the case of most so-called gangsta rappers, the discussion is often tied to cocaine trafficking (Gucci Mane, Clipse, Young Jeezy, Dipset, Jay-Z, E-40, Eazy-E, Ghostface Killah, and so on.)  This creates a fascinating language used most often to communicate wealth.  Lifestyles of the rich and famous articulated in bricks, kilos, birds, scales, Tony Montana . . .

In the artificially inflated economy of the early 2000s, these cocaine rhymes matched up nicely with the garish wealth of a society manifested in colonial wars and represented by an expressly “business-friendly” government.  Those years also meant the rise of a massive police state, prisons, and new laws against gang offenses.  One reason we keep alive the stories of outlaw dope dealers in rapping is because we live in a society that is increasingly controlled and policed — the idea that some people get to get away with it is immensely reassuring to non-outlaw folks.

Don’t get me wrong — Curren$y is still selling status, wealth and power in his rhymes.  Curren$y isn’t rapping about selling drugs, instead he rhymes about how much he has to smoke.   I think he has adjusted to the economic realities of a society in a depression and provided a slightly more inviting series of symbols for that power.

4.  He sounds good, and has a back catalog worth examining.  If you get Weekend at Burnies and find it works for you, here are the rest of my Curren$y recommendations in order.

First –> mixtape: Independence day

Second –> mixtape: Covert Coup

Third –> album Pilot Talk II

Fourth –> mixtape Fear and Loathing in New Orleans

Fifth –> mixtape return to the winners circle

sixth –> mixtape Smokee Robinson

seventh –> album Pilot talk I

You can easily add in the other affiliated projects, I like the “Jet Life to the next life” mixtape, and the wiz/Curren$y mixtape “How fly.”

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Filed under capitalism, hip hop, prisons

Pharoahe Monch & Asthma

Pharoahe Monch’s new album We Are Renegades is excellent.  Go buy  it.  If you’ve ever listened to Monch, then you know that he doesn’t fake his rhymes.   As is visible above, the back cover of his most recent album is littered with asthma inhalers.    Here is Pharoahe on the impact that his breathing struggles have had on his rhyming style.

“The asthma forced me to really go against the issue and push the envelope in terms of breath control and doing runs that I wouldn’t probably try if I didn’t have asthma,” he explained. “If I didn’t have asthma, I’d probably rhyme like the Hip Hop rock-the-spot [style]. But the fact that that shit is an element that I was fighting against, I was like, ‘Fuck that, let me make that battle, lyrically [speaking].'”

via Pharoahe Monch Talks Asthma and Rap Delivery | Get The Latest Hip Hop News, Rap News & Hip Hop Album Sales | HipHop DX.

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Random Axe

If you cheer for hip hop, then you’ll be checking for Random Axe today.

Black Milk, Guilty Simpson and Sean Price.    Damn. . . these three could fix the deficit.

ps. Warning: the video has Sean P jousting and riding a segue.  Images that will never leave my brain.

How about buying the album at amazon for 1.99? 

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Killa Mike and Money Makin’ Jam Boys VISUALs

Ah, the joy of quality editing equipment.   Most independent hip hop folks can afford to make their vision happen via the easily available technology.  When I grew up watching videos, I used to long for more access.  Now we have more access than we can handle.

First up, Killa Mike “Burn.”  Hell yeah for the struggling Georgia emcee.  Mike Bigga is a star, with a nice flow, and a presence.  I think the politics are a little vague, but the beat is hot.

And how about Money Making Jam Boys with a video for “tear it down!”   I’m in.

As a bonus, here is Lil B explaining what it is like to be a city.

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Hovafest bracket

Yeah.  When it’s time to nerd out on rap music, why not go all the way?  Rembert Brown organized all the Jay-Z tunes based on youtube views.  Then he judges each soundclash.  Check him out in the second round contrasting two songs from the Black album.

Dirt Off Your Shoulder (3) vs. Public Service Announcement (Interlude) (11): You hate to see the intra-album battle. While both are good, there is a glaring difference between the two songs. I think a number of people could have rapped over that insane Timbo beat and had a hit with Dirt Off Your Shoulder. Ludacris, easily. Lupe maybe. Joe Budden, why not? NO ONE ON EARTH/MARS/PANDORA could pull of P.S.A. other than Jay-Z. You can’t say, “Allow me to reintroduce myself, my name is WAKA.” I promise you can’t. P.S.A. is so Jay-Z, it hurts. Example of how insane the song is, a few weeks back a DJ turned on the beginning of P.S.A., thereby alerting the listener that they have 22 seconds to get in position. With about 7 seconds left before the explosion, 5 people stopped their conversations outside the bar and ran inside, simply to scream HOV at the top of their lungs. I was one of those 5 people. I’m always one of those 5 people.

via Hovafest 2011 | 500 Days Asunder.

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videos that kick ass

Here is batgirl arguing for equal pay.  Thanks to feministing for the cool link.

And Big K.R.I.T. with the remix of Country shit featuring Ludachris and Bun B.  Yowza.

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Juxtaposion: Hip hop/homophobia/queeriodic table of elements

Artifact 1:

T-shirt at Summer jam 2011

Artifact 2:

In Hip Hop this repressive denial often takes the shape of hypermasculine narratives with a no-homo brand of homophobia functioning as the frosting on the cake. Check out Funkmaster Flex’s seething defense of his homie Mr. Cee delivered in response to a rival station’s bit about Mr. Cee’s alleged public fellatio scenario. Flex goes on for at least five minutes straight, berating the entire station, defending Mr. Cee, and intimating that (gasp) there may be some folk at that other station who are actually gay, not (as Flex suggests re: Cee) framed by the NYC Hip Hop police.

But let’s pretend for minute that Mr. Cee is gay. Does that mean that his show, “Throwback at Noon” isn’t hot like fire? Does it diminish his pivotal role as Big Daddy Kane’s DJ? Is Ready to Die any less dope to you now than it was before you thought about the possibility that Mr. Cee was gay? I hope that you answered NO to all of these rhetorical questions and I hope that starting now the Hip Hop community can at last be persuaded to confront its irrational fear of the full range of our community’s human sexuality.

via NewBlackMan: Hip-Hop is Gay: Seeing Mr. Cee.

Artifact 3:

The queeriodic table of elements

 

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Filed under hip hop, human rights, learning

Pharoahe Monch: Renegade

Ain’t no conscious hip hop left.  Those that were conscious, now are just working to eat.

Pharoahe Monch never pretended to be simple and clean.  His work with Organized Confusion was lyrical, dense, and complex.  I think Monch is an intellectual roughneck — capable of pushing some thin ideas to the point of breaking. Hold no rapper to the ethical standards of a priest or a politician.  Monch shares ideas — you don’t have to like them.

In fact, I didn’t like his video of “Black hand side.”  It’s a good tune, and it encourages peaceful resolution of conflict among African Americans.  But it also includes a domestic violence scene which seems to get the same treatment.  Sweep violence under the rug.  I’m not feeling that.  So I’m certainly not gonna post a video with some ideas I feel need to be challenged.

But Pharoahe’s We Are Renegades (W.A.R.) is dang good as an album.  And I don’t have any need for Pharoahe Monch to match my politics.  Just to keep making good music.   I’ll decide what fits me.

Witness “Clap.”  The first single from the album that gets a relatively lush 10 minute short movie.  Winter in America indeed.  Ice cold and not getting any warmer.  The only spark of warmth comes from gun barrel.  110%.

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Colonialism coded: Jadakiss in Africa

Lets get the obvious out of the way: Jadakiss is a great emcee.  Lets also give him kudos for heading to Swaziland to do a show promoting awareness about HIV (see first comment).

But dang, this film is so colonial it could have been scripted by Teddy Roosevelt.

1.  The first half of the film is boring footage of Jadakiss hopping airplanes, walking through terminals, and lamenting about how far Africa is.  We get it, Africa is a long distance away and you are putting yourself out by traveling so far.  Of course, in the traditional versions of this travelogue narrative (see the Vice travel shows, or When we were kings) the travellers face difficulty in their transit, Jadakiss and his crew slide through sanitized airports.

2.  The perspective on HIV in Africa is pretty simplistic.  The overloaded fear statistics are so heavy-handed that no one could ever imagine doing anything about them.  At one point the film claims that if HIV transmission rates continue to climb in Swaziland, all adults will be dead by 2020.  That’s right, nine years from now, every single grown-up in an African country will be dead from HIV transmission.

3.  The only hope, is of course, Jadakiss.  Obviously, the solution to AIDS in an African country is a solitary rapper without any significant recent pop hits.

4.  The exotic other-ness of Africa is central to this video.  From the vagueness of going to somewhere-in-Africa (the film clip says Jadakiss is going to South Africa, he himself admits at the front end that he isn’t sure where he is going before showing us the ticket to his flight to Johannesburg.)  In fact Jadakiss is performing in the Kingdom of Swaziland — a landlocked dictatorship with strong state control whose primary export appears to be children for slave labor and sex slaves (according to the C.I.A., who y’know, might not always be on the up and up). The royal family of Swaziland get’s a representative in African garb.   What is interesting is that Jadakiss still wants to play this like he is Jay-Z going to the garden.  Flashing in a convoy line of luxury automobiles, Jada’s grin is visible from a satellite.   There are a few seconds of presumed  African poverty filmed out of the racing automobiles as Jadakiss heads for the resort for his show.

5.  Despite this charity event being about HIV positive Africans, the film sticks with the representations of wealth.  The camera lingers around Jadakiss’s luxury suite while he explains, “the king laid out something . . . for the other king.”  There is no discussion of AIDS, African AIDS, or the conditions in Swaziland that make it hard to fight the virus (maybe like dictatorships).   No Africans speak or narrate into the camera.

6.  Sadly, there isn’t even a show clip of Jada rapping!  I guess this is just  the first episode.  I look forward to the next colonial day dream from a Western emcee.  At least one where we get to hear some rapping!

One of the best takes on African hip hop comes from Patrick Neate, who authored Where you’re at.  In his chapter on Johannasburg, the white-identified Neate is talking to Mizhif, a Zimbabwean/US/South African hip hop TV host.  Mizchif reflects on the recent visit from Dead Prez:

“Dead Prez left so much conflict amongst heads, it was hectic.  They had said that the cover of their album (a sepia-touched photograph  of black women waving guns above their heads) was from the Soweto Uprising.  But it wasn’t.  Actually, as a Zimbabwean, I know it was from the chimurenga. (Neate FN95: Chimurenga is a Zimbabwean (Shona) word meaning struggle.  It is specifically used to refer to the war of independence.)  No one had guns at the Soweto uprising except the cops.  So before Dead Prez even got here, people had a beef about that.  Then they cam on YFM and they were just preaching their revolutionary stuff, ‘ don’t rely on the man,’ that kind of thing.  At the time kids were calling in going, ‘yeah, I feel you man.  Fuck white people.’  But the minute they left everyone was saying, ‘Who are they to come to South Africa and tell us about our struggle?’

“It’s difficult because there’s already so much conflict between people here because the focus of the rest of the world had always been on Soweto.  But there’s been struggle all over; every township had struggles from Soweto to Guguletu.”

I ask Mizchif what he thought, personally, and he laughs.  “I just thought it was funny because the Dead Prez show was half-and-half, white and black.  Because who has the money and the transport to go to a show like that?”

I think back to the Mos Def gig in London, a performance to the self-consciously conscious.  I mention it to Mizchif and he shakes his head and smiles.

“Really it’s just typical of Americans.  They have such a stereotyped view of Africa.  When I was at high school in New York, my father ended up coming to teach our Social Studies class because, when I took the worksheets about Africa home, he was absolutely disgusted.  Yes there’s a rural Africa and a poor Africa and AIDS in Africa, but there are modern and urban and rich sides too.”  (117-118).

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