I bought Yelawolf’s debut album Radioactive, a couple of days ago. I’ve given it a couple of listens and there are some winners, but it mostly makes me want to listen to Trunk Muzik.
There is nothing wrong with Yela’s flow, but his beat selection is too entwined with pop for my tastes. Radioactive suffers from the Wiz Khalifa major label input syndrome. The label can sell a couple hundred thousand if the rapper can just be convinced to make a pop hit. In this case, the production and love that oozed out of Yela’s tapes dries up — in it’s place we get a sterile couple of pop-branded flops.
I do like a couple of the tracks. I’m in love with the melody of “Let’s Roll,” a string-heavy knocker of a smooth tune. “Animal” also gets me, despite the supple snares and synth overload, this tune contains the most head-nodding potential for the whole album. “Slumerican citizen” with worth consideration simply because it has Killa Mike on the chorus (although the conflation of class with race is way too simplified for my politics).
Oh well, I suspect that Yela will make a couple more albums. I’m not throwing in the towel on dude, but I wish for more. In the mean time, here is the old Yelawolf (of like 14 months ago) with Bun B from Trunk Muzik. Go get the mixtape if you don’t have it.
If you like rap music a little bit, then you are asked to pick favorites. Part of that is rivalries, where if you are a fan of one group or artist, you stay away from or even deter other people from listening to your favorite musician’s competition.
A more pernicious kind of intellectual trap comes when you feel a rapper wrongs you. They might release a song or collaboration with someone who you know sucks. Or they write a verse praising domestic violence or some crap like that.
Lil’ B has crossed his audience’s expectations so many times that they now expect the bizarre (if they’re still around). You might pick up one of his ‘rap’ albums or mixtapes and discover very little that sounds like rapping. Stream-of-consciousness un-clever wordplay. Exceptionally awkward delivery, ideas that trail off. Songs that make no sense to someone who is trying to listen to it with charitable ears. It’s not edited to showcase Lil B’s clarity, his music is edited to showcase the mistakes. I’d argue that his performances expose Lil’ B’s vulnerabilities and screw-ups as an invitation to consider similarities.
Part of that is the idea of based — to return the living performative and free-wheeling lyricism.
There is a lot more interesting to talk about the based god. Consider the political/rhetorical shenanigans of Lil’ B. Calling his album “I’m gay.” His deeply internet-entwined performance and fanbase. His discussion with his fans/friends makes an interesting impact on language. He moves forward with toxic language choices for example ‘based god fucked my bitch.’
There is no positive element to that phrase. The “my” suggests ownership over a woman. Objectification and comparison to animals in the word bitch. The weary trope of a celebrity having sex with someone’s girlfriend or partner. Disempowerment and pain are really conveyed in this short phrase.
But somehow Lil B uses it to suggest solidarity. He seems honestly shocked when asked in interviews if he would have sex with someone’s wife or mom — saying he never has. He simply uses the words to convey something quite differently.
In some ways it sorts out his audience for him. If you are hip enough to get past the terrible linguistic jump then you can be in the club. Shouting painfully sexist and disempowering phrase is part of the invitation to something else with Lil B.
In the case of Lil B I just take each release on it’s own. No reason to love or hate the artist forever. Sometimes he’ll make a nice tune. I know, pretty un-hip hop. Let alone un-feminist. In this case, we get “beat the odds,” a seemingly sincere, almost saccharine ode to hustling.
Mark my words: from Lil B riding in a sports car with Souljah Boy to riding the bus in this video. We are going to see the return of working class images and references in hip hop.
My office is in the basement. One of my fellow underground dwellers put up a poster for an old horror movie called “People under the stairs.” We get a lot of leverage out of that joke. I’ve threatened to bring in a slightly more upbeat poster from the rap group People Under the Stairs.
Speaking of the musical People Under the Stairs, I’ve always felt a resonance with these dudes. They make good music, they have fun and seem genuinely interested in innovation. Here is one half of PUTS, Thes One on his newest musical vision.
And the fact of matter was that everyone around me did have material that was ready for release and there were no record labels left to come around and pick it up. So, I said what we should do is treat it like a co-op. Like if you’re a bunch of farmers — you share your materials, you share your tractors, this that or whatever, and when one person’s crop is ready, they bring money into the co-op. And then while their crop is growing, the other person’s is ready and they bring money. And that’s kind of how we’re treating it. The money that the record is bringing in right now is gonna help pay for the pressing of the next record and so on and so forth, and we’ll be all in it together.
There aren’t a lot of rappers who create music that makes me buy every album. Z-ro is one. The struggling texas emcee/hustler has staggering talent. Either as the rapper Z-ro or as Ro-ther Vandross, his Rnb alter ego. A clip emerged of a weekend concert w/ Ro. Some things to notice: how much the audience loves Z-ro, how good his voice sounds.
I love it when non-tough guy stuff slips through hip hop interviews. Mr. Motherf’n Exquire is NYC’s newest star. Recent interview w/ MTV’s Hive reveals his love for coloring with crayons.
When it came time to shoot a video I [was] like let’s just do the shit that we do in the crib, let’s record this shit and turn it into a video. Just keep it natural. And it kinda resonated with people. I guess that’s how everybody else lives too. Everybody ain’t rich and poppin Cristal and shit.
My crib is like the hub. Me and everybody just hang out at my crib. If you come here any time there’s music playing, somebody’s recording, we getting creative, trying to figure out a video, we do whatever. We do wild shit in here, we play video games, we fuck bitches, we color. We just have mad fun in here.
Did you say you color?
Yeah, I color a lot. All of us color. A bunch of gangsta n***** coloring.
Like… with crayons?
Hell yeah! Coloring’s a really serious thing in this crib, son. We don’t play with that shit, you gotta come hard. Niggas be really on they Picasso shit coloring. We get drunk and we just got mad coloring books. Coloring and NBA 2K that’s the serious business in the crib.
Killa Kyleon and Bun B. I would have bet all my money ($63.50) that Killa would wreck this track, but I’ll be damned if the slow loris of hip hop — Bun B doesn’t ride this Lex Luger beat to greatness.
I’m a vegetarian tree hugger, but I’m still feeling this. “When you see B comin’ around the corner/sittin’ in the foreign that you never heard of/leather seats so fresh that the cow just died/ and PETA want me for murder/and the wood inside that bitch brand new cuz we just killed a tree/so you already know the EPA ain’t feelin’ me. ”
Of course Bun B doesn’t need to prove anything. It is just a pleasure to hear him rhyming so tight.
DJ Screw made a huge difference in the way hip hop fans understood the sound. Local, exceptional, slowed down, Texan, and all that made a package that made his 90 minute tapes (TAPES fool!) a necessity. Screw died a few years back and what we have are memories of him.
This University of Houston librarian knows the deal — someone should swoop in and try to save all that history. The vinyl, the photos, and all the rest from the Screw lab should get archived, and shared with the public. Now it’s happening. Kick ass.
Check Rap Radar for some photos of the collection. RIP DJ Screw.
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Life of refinement 