REVIEW: Maven – Thaddeus David
Thaddeus David
Maven
Members Only; 2012
Score: RECOMMENDED
Of the three MCs in local crew State Of The Artist, it’s likely Thaddeus David (or Young TH as he’s known in assembly) is the only one capable of holding down an entire album’s worth of solo material. Parker is an adequate rhymer but his true gifts lay behind the boards and Hyphen8d’s butter soft register just isn’t commanding enough to stand alone despite a charming wit that supersedes both of his teammates. One of the best things about the SOTA boys is how well they share the mic, with each MC getting a turn to shine on virtually every track they do together. Thaddeus is clearly their #3 hitter: the most well-rounded, the most consistent and the most interesting. Maven is his recent outing for dolo, a 16-track LP that’s definitely nice on the ears, but suffers from a partial lack of focus that hinders the MC’s hunt for a more distinct individual rep.
It’s hard to criticize Maven when all of the separate elements of a high quality album are present. Start with Thad’s flow which is natural and well-practiced. He sounds great positing on subjects like street politics (“Block Business”), succeeding in the rap game (“By Any Means”), and old fashioned shit talk (“Aww Sheit”). Part of his appeal lies in his raspy vocal aesthetic, a natural gift that allows him to swagger without trying. You can’t teach or learn that quality — it just is. The other remarkable thing about Maven is the beat choice: every single one succeeds. Provided by local suppliers (Jester, Kuddie Fresh, DJ Semaj) and anonymous internet beat mavens, there isn’t a weak gazelle in the bunch and the diverse sonics range from the dreamy wobble of “Never Never” to the jazzy shake of “Crown Royal.”
But while Thad’s beat selection is beyond reproach, his strategy for hopping on them is suspect. At least half of the collection would only qualify as interludes. Many of them are devoid of hooks that just start to build momentum before trailing off, like “Skyscrapers” which generates a nostalgic, grainy lo-def 70’s movie feel but then quickly rides out. As it goes with most hip-hop records these days, somewhere among the overflow of half-thoughts is a superior and more focused EP dying to get out. It’s a lesson Thaddeus should have learned from the title of Maven’s opening cut, “Less is More.”
In 206UP.COM’s recent interview feature, “THE SIX”, Thad informs us that another solo project is likely on the way, this time a for-profit venture with all original production. Here’s hoping “distillation” is on the MC’s to-do list for that go ‘round. Dude’s Town rep is very strong based on past musical collaborations — SOTA and Helluvastate (with Cloud Nice honcho Tay Sean) — and he’s shown it can only get stronger. The approach just needs a little calibration.
REVIEW (via Potholes In My Blog): The Mission EP – Eric Lau (w/Guilty Simpson)
Eric Lau
The Mission EP
Kilawatt Music; 2012
Score (Potholes In My Blog scale): 3/5
Click here to read my review of London-based DJ/producer Eric Lau’s The Mission EP, featuring Guilty Simpson. Thanks to the good folks at Potholes In My Blog for letting me contribute to their great publication.
REVIEW: Yours Truly – Sol
Sol
Yours Truly
Self-released; 2012
Score: RECOMMENDED
Sol doesn’t care if his music goes pop. It’s the first thing he says on “Paint,” the decidedly upbeat Imogen Heap-sampling track from his sophomore full-length, Yours Truly. It’s a good thing, too, because with this record the accomplished (and still rising) Seattle MC has a terrific collection of songs that succeeds in connecting the universal pleasure principles of pop music with legitimate hip-hop artistry. Spinning through Yours Truly for the second time I couldn’t help but think this is what Lupe Fiasco’s Lasers should have sounded like.
Sol’s early 2009 debut, The Ride, introduced the EMP Sound Off! finalist and University of Washington student (now graduate) to the area hip-hop scene. His gravelly register and laser-precise technical ability helped him to stand out from a sudden rush of similarly-aged MCs looking to get on in the spontaneous combustion that was the Puget Sound rap scene. With the subsequent Dear Friends trio of EPs, Sol took a definitive turn away from the underground boom-bap that dominated The Ride and moved to a more soulful mix of R&B and blunted pop-rap.
The culmination of that transition is the 12-track (plus one bonus) Yours Truly. You can blame Sol’s affinity for weed or his advancing maturity (probably a bit of both) for the easy-going sensibilities of this album. Like all intelligent and skilled MCs, Sol has learned his life and career don’t hinge on spitting the best bars or realest shit ever written on each subsequent verse; consistency is important, too. Establishing a relationship with his listeners is what Sol values most here. He plays the part of both critic and member of his particular generation on “2020,” urging his peers to shed what he perceives as an identity-threatening ambivalence and stand for something. He also loves the ladies, or, more accurately, the ladies love Sol. On the whimsical “Ugly Love” (featuring Shaprece) he recognizes his status as one of the city’s circumstantial rap sex symbols and uses (presumably) learned experiences to both celebrate and lament the profits of his cachet.
My estimation is that Yours Truly will be a hit among close followers of Seattle hip-hop, especially with the younger set that leans toward the more Clear Channel variety. That’s just fine of course — equal representation is important in establishing a holistic listening environment, after all. Heads who don’t favor this brand of vodka can rest in the edification of a track like “Rap Life.” The standout Jake One-produced banger is a reminder that Sol’s hustle is rooted deeply in the hip-hop fundamentals and, at the very least, his growth sprouts from an unadulterated love for the art. Yours Truly is quality, independently-produced music with the artist’s full stamp of approval, and if that’s synonymous with “honesty,” then the effort is always above reproach.
REVIEW: Colored People’s Time Machine – Gabriel Teodros
Gabriel Teodros
Colored People’s Time Machine
Fresh Chopped Beats/MADK Productions; 2012
Score: HIGHLY RECOMMENDED
Telling Seattle rappers they’re not making an honest attempt at gaining visibility outside of their area code is a fairly common accusation nowadays. Truth be told, there’s a lot of Big Fish in Small Pond syndrome being passed around — that every MC comes through to every other MC’s video shoot is both the charming and tedious nature of the Seattle hip-hop community. The Six is a quaint environment in which to exist as a musician, but I would imagine the socked-in loom of the Pacific Northwest winter becomes the perfect metaphor for a restless MC feeling particularly confined to his or her own insular bounds of the region.
Gabriel Teodros’ new LP, Colored People’s Time Machine, serves as a direct affront to the notion that Seattle rap has yet to grow beyond its geographic margins. It’s a stark (albeit humble) answer to local music writers who’ve posited the conceit, as well as an inspiration of sorts to fellow artists who want to stretch their own boundaries, though not in the fashion that results in rap’s standard measures of fame and largesse.
Corporate capital has never been Teodros’ main pursuit, anyway. It’s more appropriate to call his hustle one for identity scratch, but not the type that wins you admission to clubs or free custom-made clothes. More like the kind that enriches your soul and the various communities you associate yourself with. You know, fairly inconsequential stuff. CPTM cuts the broadest cultural swath of any area rap record in recent memory, featuring guest appearances by artists rhyming and singing in their native languages (including English, Spanish, Arabic, and Tagalog). Recently an obsession with interplanetary commutation has infiltrated Seattle rap subject matter, but on this album Teodros favors good old-fashioned terrestrial navigation.
The central theme on CPTM is home. Many of the album’s tracks serve to extrapolate the concept, beginning with its definition as a specific physical location and extending outward to include less concrete ideas. Though Gabriel reps strongly for the Pacific Northwest, “Alien Native” describes a regional upbringing in which a sense of belonging was never fortified. He documents physical and spiritual movements through other US cities (Las Vegas on “Babylon by Bus” and Brooklyn on “Saturn’s Return”) and other countries like Canada and Ethiopia, that served to define his identity. Teodros grapples with the same paradox that many other people of color in America do: That one’s birthplace here does not, by default, represent one’s cultural center.
He and his brethren essentially remain strangers in a strange land, relying on serendipitous collisions with others who share similar experiences to assist in a perpetual search for belonging. Colored People’s Time Machine is the fortunate product of happenstance and focused directive from an MC that values his community, wherever it may be found.
206UP.COM’s Top 10 SEA Hip-Hop Albums of 2011: #5 through 1
206UP.COM’s Top 10 Seattle Hip-Hop Albums of 2011 concludes today with the list below, the blog’s five favorite local releases of the year. I hope you enjoyed the list and that it generates an active response in your brain — that’s really the sole reason we do these year-end list things, anyway. Everything is up for conjecture. If you have something to say, I want to hear it — the Comments section is there for you to use. As before, links to download or purchase are included, just click on the album covers.
5. The Good Sin & 10.4 Rog – Late
Producer 10.4 Rog’s beatific sense of rhythm and electronic adornments made for the perfect counterpoint to The Good Sin’s grounded, low-pitched raps on getting by financially and romantically when success with both endeavors seems fleeting. I recall downloading this free album right around the time Odd Future’s proverbial cream was rising to the top and, upon listening, was happy to experience a different type of hip-hop escape: Finding a relatable and comfortable space of existence between Rog’s airy atmospherics and Sinseer’s lyrics on the everyday struggle. For most listeners in Seattle, this was a formal introduction to both producer and MC. Late set an incredibly high standard for these promising young artists whose stars are still rising.
4. Khingz – Liberation of the Monster
A relocation to Vancouver, BC has not changed the allegiance or focus in subject matter of the South End’s most self-aware rapper, Khingz. Liberation of the Monster was the best collection of tracks the MC has released since 2009′s remarkable From Slaveships to Spaceships. Canadian producer Rel!g!on was responsible for all of the beats, a Pacific Northwest re-working of the SoCal gangsta aesthetic found on 1990s albums like Dogg Food. While Khingz may forever associate himself with that style of rap nostalgically (like many us who came-of-age in the 90s), he’s decidedly more responsible and progressive in his rhymes. His course is set on a better future, a destination borne from a dubious past. On tracks like “Monster’s Lib” and “Hard to Say,” the MC is so diffuse in his rhyming it’s hard to keep up with the words. You would be too if you had the rare combination of artistic acumen and social enlightenment of this rapper.
3. Blue Scholars – Cinemetropolis
Even Shabazz Palaces’ debut LP Black Up didn’t ignite the local hip-hop landscape initially the way Blue Scholars did with their third full-length album, Cinemetropolis. Behind the strength of a Kickstarter campaign that generated a pre-album release $62,000 in donations in six weeks and a subsequent 33-date national headlining tour, Geo and Sabzi remained Seattle rap’s sentimental favorite (until the next Macklemore drops, anyway).
Producer Sabzi developed a new sound for the group: A bass-heavy mix of heady synth and tropical rhythms. And MC Geo wove his love for cinema and social justice into conceptual lyrics that succeeded in entertaining and provoking thought. As the members of Blue Scholars age, it seems like their fans are getting younger, which bodes well for the future. If the youth are independently choosing to support acts like this, then maybe there is hope for the coming generation.
2. The Physics – Love is a Business
A giant leap forward for Seattle hip-hop (and R&B for that matter). The Physics’ Love is a Business was the long-awaited follow-up to the group’s first LP, Future Talk, a record that held many promises for those heads still living in rap’s Golden Era. Love is a Business did have much in common with its predecessor, but also moved beyond with a wholly-conceived sound that was more soulful and refined thanks especially to don’t-call-them-back-up singers, Malice and Mario Sweet.
LIAB represents Seattle hip-hop in its most fully-grown incarnation. Thig Natural, Monk Wordsmith and Justo placed themselves contextually in that realm of maturity where one is still young enough to enjoy a Tuesday night jump-off encounter, but not without a hint of regret at having to face the coming work day on little to no sleep. In these mens’ lives, the intersection of their art, professional careers and romantic engagements are inseparable, each one informs the other. If there’s any justice in the musical universe someday The Physics will make beats and rhymes for a living, and this album’s description of their current existence will serve as a fond reminder to them of when life was a little less charmed.
1. Shabazz Palaces – Black Up
At this moment in time, it’s impossible to place Black Up into appropriate hip-hop context. But that’s because (and any theoretical physicist will tell you this) time itself is merely an illusion. Similar to the career of Shabazz Palaces’ primary motivating force, Palaceer Lazaro (earthly name: Ishmael Butler), the sounds on Black Up ascend to the stratosphere, only to dissipate and fall invisibly to the terra firma where the music is reformed into new lyrical notions and sonic movements. The sounds here are transient, but everything in Butler’s past seems to have been pointing to this moment.
If you had to pinpoint an origin for Black Up, you would say its spirit is rooted most firmly in Africa. The Palaceer’s words stay tethered to a motherland but course off in many directions, just like peoples disseminated (by choice and by force) across the globe. As I type this, Shabazz Palaces is spreading its ethereal sound across parts of Europe, and will likely move beyond that continent. How fortunate we are in Seattle then, to be able to call our city SP’s corporeal home. I don’t think many people in The Town realized a spirit like Shabazz’s existed in their midst. Seattleites (and the world), take note: If that’s cream you’re putting in your coffee — don’t. Better to drink the elixir Black.
206UP.COM’s Top 10 SEA Hip-Hop Albums of 2011: #10 through 6
Today continues 206UP.COM’s countdown of the Top 10 Seattle Hip-Hop Albums of 2011. See yesterday’s post for the Introduction and three standout releases that didn’t quite make the cut. Today’s post features albums 10 through 6. Tomorrow (Thursday, 12.22.11) we’ll post 5 through 1. Thanks for reading!
(Click on the album covers for links to download or purchase.)
10. Dyme Def – Yuk The World
Here we have the trio of Brainstorm, S.E.V. and Fearce Villain behaving in the way we’re accustomed: Mixing top-shelf brag rap with sobering tales about growing up hard in the South End. It’s been over four years since Space Music, the area’s official introduction to the Three Bad Brothas from Renton. Since then, the crew has been missing a key component to their hustle: The production of BeanOne, whose lively trunk rattle serves as the perfect delivery vehicle for the three MCs’ sharp witticisms. Thankfully Bean is back here, providing the majority of the framework in which Dyme Def gets busy. One complaint: Yuk The World is too long, but that’s only because Dyme Def’s real voice hasn’t been heard in some time. Consider this a year-ending takeover attempt by one of the SEA’s most important groups in history.
9. Nacho Picasso – For The Glory
Emerging from a Cloud (Nice, that is) of weed smoke and comic book sound effects is Nacho Picasso. Even blazed-up and squinty-eyed this dude is more clever than your average MC, dropping punchlines quippy enough to win the affection of both your girlfriend and high-brow music publications. For The Glory‘s arrival on the scene correlates perfectly with the sonic trends going on in the greater rap arena. Production duties were handled by Blue Sky Black Death, whose hazy take on the Cloud Rap aesthetic fits in nicely next to the genre’s currently favored albums. The star here is inarguably Nacho himself, though. Holding a Marvel comic book in one hand and a Dessert Eagle in the other, the man otherwise known as The Tat in the Hat is poised to introduce his specific branch of Seattle rap to the rest of the nation.
8. Art Vandelay – They’ve Got My Number Down At The Post Office
MC Ricky Pharoe and producer Mack Formway are Art Vandelay, an affiliate of the left-of-center Black Lab Productions camp. On They’ve Got My Number Down At The Post Office they question the honesty of our government, point shotguns at their televisions and generally wonder indignantly how anyone in their right mind could see worldly goings-on as anything but a degradation of all that is beautiful and just. “Art Vandelay” is a self-delusion perpetuated by Seinfeld‘s George Costanza — a lie in the form of a heroic archetype that helps George feel better about his otherwise mundane existence. Pharoe is calling us the liars on They’ve Got My Number: We’re fools to think for even a second that anything is all good. Oh well, at least when the world begins crumbling down around us we’ll have Art Vandelay’s soundtrack playing in the background, telling us so.
7. Onry Ozzborn – Hold on for Dear Life
I think Seattle forgets how great an MC Onry Ozzborn is. That’s probably because his creative output sneaks by in the same way his monotonic flow inserts subversive social commentary and unique turns-of-phrases into our collective unconscious. Last year’s Dark Time Sunshine project with Chicago producer Zavala was the region’s rap genius lurking in the proverbial shadows. DTS was the one laughing at silly rappers driving by in rented whips, the fakers’ who used their own beautiful sisters and cousins as stand-ins for video models too expensive for their shallow pocketbooks.
Onry might not be a rich man himself, but when it comes to industry respect he has an abundance. From a musical standpoint, Hold on for Dear Life was the most experimental release from the MC to date. It played in bright electronica, post-dubstep pop and the familiar gothic gloom specific to Onry’s infamous crew, Grayskul. If and when the Seattle hip-hop weather affects other regions on a greater scale, it will be OG MC’s like Onry Ozzborn casting the tell-tale Northwest cloud cover.
6. Prometheus Brown & Bambu – Walk into a Bar
What began on mostly a freebie lark ultimately turned into this 10-track for-profit album with some of the best production value around. Prometheus Brown (known traditionally to Seattle as Geo, of course) and Los Angeles’ Bambu pay homage to their island origination on Walk into a Bar which was released on Bambu’s label (Beatrock Music) and aimed squarely at the Hawaiian Islands, a favorite tour destination for the two MCs. As per standard, Geo and Bambu choose their words carefully always using them to uplift and inform rather than degrade and dispirit. “National Treasure,” for example, is important commentary on gender politics and features a beat from Vitamin D whose drums somehow always sound bigger than everyone else’s.
206UP.COM’S Top SEA Hip-Hop Albums of 2011: Introduction & Honorable Mentions
Image by Emma Looney.
The calendar tells me it’s nearing the end of December and hence begins 206UP.COM’s countdown of the best Seattle-area hip-hop albums of the last twelve months. Today the blog features the requisite Honorable Mentions. (Which we all know is just a mechanism designed to appease indecisiveness and waffling on behalf of the writer — guilty as charged.) Tomorrow the blog will feature the 10 through 6 positions, and on Thursday it will conclude with 5 through 1. If you’re a frequent reader of this blog, there should be no surprise as to the record that will top this list. (Hint: I am undoubtedly not the only one who will place it at the apex…)
The crew that occupies the top spot is indicative of one important signifier regarding 206 hip-hop: The artists who have been doing it the longest in this Town are still the ones doing it the best. Recently Seattle has had two acts embark on wildly successful national-headlining tours, both featuring 30+ dates each. But there’s only one act currently holding down an international tour, and it’s the dazzling brainchild of one of the city’s “old heads.” This bodes well for us. Seattle is a location with relatively little rap tradition, but the last five years have seen exponential growth to the point where there are too many acts to fill venues and not enough interested listeners to promise success for everyone. We’ve reached the musical equivalent of what chemists call “supersaturation.”
Seattle rap must now grow outward in order to truly succeed, and the man doing it the biggest is the only one the local community should trust to carry the torch (regardless of what Sir Mix-A-Lot says). His is a demeanor that perfectly represents what Seattle is about, his point-of-view one that is vastly under-represented (both in Town and out of), and his creative acumen advanced enough to stay relevant in an ever-shifting musical landscape that requires deft alterations in sound and a healthy dose of intrigue to hold listeners’ short attention spans.
Younger rappers, take heed: This sh-t right here is a marathon, not a sprint, regardless of what these flash-in-the-internet-pan MC’s are telling you. You’d be wise to tie up your laces, keep your proverbial powder dry, and turn off that internal metronome for just a moment for some good old-fashioned note-taking. Time for you to listen to Black.
And with that, here are 206UP.COM’s (OTHER) Top Seattle Hip-Hop Albums of 2011 (the Honorable Mentions):
(Note: Links to purchase or download are included. Just click the album cover image.)
Avatar Young Blaze – The Iron Curtain
With each subsequent release, Avatar Young Blaze shows the promise that lurking somewhere in his ever-plotting mind is a top-notch trap masterwork waiting to be unleashed. Not to say that The Iron Curtain isn’t excellent. It is. And it’s the best he’s ever sounded on the mic. With more optimism in his lyrics (living in sunny SoCal will do that to you) and an expanding musical palette, Av has become a valuable Central District representative to the West Coast and beyond. Check out the track “UK Grime,” which sounds like it was concocted in a basement out in East London. It’s the only Seattle rap song of 2011 that made me want to break sh-t.
Kung Foo Grip – Capitalize
From the land of pristine suburbia (otherwise known as Kirkland) comes Kung Foo Grip and their decidedly un-sterilized update on underground Golden Era rap. The term “old soul” can’t be more aptly applied to these two underage MC’s (Greg Cypher and F is H) who found upstart success as on-the-scene battle rappers. They’ve since moved beyond the corner into high-quality studio productions like Capitalize‘s get-lifted “Def Yoda pt. 3,” a celebration of youth and their own unequivocal dopeness.
Hi-Life Soundsystem – Hi-Life Soundsystem
MC Khingz has been doing it for more than a minute around Town and everyone knows him as the thoughtful, science fiction-loving word-nerd (I mean that in a good way). He’s as comfortable embracing his own high-level mic prowess as he is learning the city’s populace on how f-cked up their racial and gender constructs are.
Hi-Life Soundsystem is the collaborative endeavor (with MC B-Flat and producer Crispy) that sought to temporarily shed the dreaded “conscious” label that’s been attached to Khingz in favor of his strobe-lit party-rocking sensibilities. “Death of the Party” was the best Seattle club jam of the year. It consistently brought the house down on the dance floor but Khingz and B-Flat couldn’t help turning their verses into something of a cautionary tale directed at folks who perpetually overdo it. This is music for party-goers who can appreciate their festivities without needing to overindulge.
REVIEW: Yuk The World – Dyme Def
Dyme Def’s new full-length album, Yuk The World, features the track “Fresher in my Kicks” which is, for my money, the best song the group has ever done. It was a little surprising to see it included here because it’s old (at least by rap standards) but it’s only right that it finds a proper home on an “official” DD release.
In this blogger’s estimation, the trio of Brainstorm, S.E.V. and Fearce Villain are the most important rap group currently operating in Seattle, and a track like “Fresher in my Kicks” is the reason why. Superficially the joint is just about shoes, a tribute to the ubiquitous hip-hop classics like Jordans and Air Force Ones. Turning the track over, however, and having a look at the sole reveals something more revelatory: A somber reflection on what the rappers’ kicks have carried them through, both physically and spiritually. For Dyme Def, shoes have been vehicles for expression, for fashion, for upping rep, and, more figuratively, as protection — a type of armor to lace up as preservation against a brutal outside world.
On YTW (and on the group’s first LP, Space Music) you find many sentiments like these. “Blaastin Off” is an optimistic dedication to finding something better, an escape from tribulations as caught in the rear-view mirror. “When it Rains” finds Brainstorm reflecting in the most literal terms possible on growing up without a father. This all sounds fairly dispiriting, so for those uninitiated to Dyme Def’s hustle it should be noted emphatically that this is a group that prefers to rap about good times, something they do better than anyone else in Town. (Much credit should be given to the group’s primary producer, BeanOne, whose drums on Yuk The World carry the most trunk-rattling knock of any local release this year.)
I’m of the belief that the majority of Seattle doesn’t have a real understanding of what goes on in the city’s South End. Maybe they do in theory, but the philosophical disconnect that exists between north and south of Jackson (or, more accurately, between light and dark complexions in any of Seattle’s geographic districts) is something that’s not bridged nearly as much as it should be.
Dyme Def expresses a vivid representation of this city’s stark divide in race and class. I remember a brief period of time spent working with high school kids in the South End, boys with stories that matched those of Brainstorm’s exactly. These particular young people laced up the same kicks as Dyme Def and for exactly the same reasons — yet more layers of armor for traversing life’s rugged terrain.
Yuk The World contains a dose of reality Seattle needs to hear: It is not all good, rap fans — even in your own backyard. But the one edifying thing about all this, and what Dyme Def themselves portray in their music, is that when everything around you seems covered in shit, the sweet stuff seems that much more syrupy. And right there alone is cause for celebration.
REVIEW: Liberation of the Monster – Khingz
Click album cover to purchase at Bandcamp.
Town rap veteran Khingz is equal parts self-reverential and self-referential on his latest LP, Liberation of the Monster, a release backed by Vancouver, BC record label Wandering Worx Entertainment (home to rappers Moka Only and Planet Asia, among others). The entire project was produced by Rel!g!on, who favors decidedly West Coast-derived slap matched with chopped samples and liberal doses of aggressive keyboard — imagine a more forward-thinking version of the early Dogg Pound aesthetic.
Indeed Khingz makes immediate connections to his West and East Coast roots (the MC has spent considerable time on both geographic margins) on album opener, and Dogg Pound-referencing, “DPG in NYC.” On the track he threatens to “stomp through the city like Dogg Pound in N-Y,” certainly a lyrical salvo meant to highlight his considerable skills as an MC. That’s the self-reverential part.
On Liberation, we also see Khingz highlighting his own personal struggles, those derived from racial injustice, identity crises, and conflicts when his power as a man intersects with mutual gender reciprocity. It’s all heavy stuff, especially “For Colored Boys Who Consider Suicide,” a figuratively titled song that can’t be anything but autobiographical.
For those that follow Khingz, they know that he’s equal parts sci-fi nerd and reformed gang banger, at-odds identities for those that like to stereotype, but commonly-occurring mutual states of existence for heads that actually observe. The MC’s self-referencing habits (like those found on his excellent 2009 LP, From Slaveships to Spaceships) feel like rap therapy sessions for Khingz, and edifying moral support for listeners who find themselves in the same beautiful category as him.
REVIEW: Take Care – Drake
The neighborhood of Forest Hill is a quiet, idyllic enclave in the central section of Toronto, Canada’s largest city. The district’s broad streets and leafy sidewalks are bordered by expansive single-family homes and an impressive collection of stately mansions that trend more toward Sotheby’s auctions than the pedestrian listings of Century 21. It was on these well-maintained municipal arteries that a young Aubrey Drake Graham presumably rehearsed a very early form of his now widely recognized helium-pitched MC flow, a style that has earned him various musical accolades and an equal number of less shiny endorsements from skeptics earnestly questioning the validity of dude’s lofty position in the rap game…
DOWNLOAD & REVIEW: Charles – Chev
Click album cover to D/L.
Somewhere inside Chev’s 17-track debut album is an outstanding eight to ten song EP, dying to get out. That’s not to say the long-time coming Charles is a disappointment. Rather it’s a greater reflection of an MC who’s had much on his mind for a minute now, too much to adequately express on a few standout guest shots on tracks by more established Town artists (summarized well by the rapper himself, here).
The first time Chev really caught my ear was on “Certitude” (a joint from Common Market’s 2008 Tobacco Road). His deep, commanding delivery added weight to Sabzi’s synth-heavy composition and his reality rap point-of-view counterbalanced RA Scion’s philosophical wanderings. There’s much more of that grounded perspective on Charles. Chev’s preferred lyrical topic is observations on the hustle, and the fact that he’s in the midst of his own makes him an expert. “Simple Math” is an engaging opening track with commanding head-nod courtesy of Jester. “Beau” pays tribute to lost lives and features a dusty jazz-inflected beat by Def Dee. My favorite song here, though, is the Sabzi-produced “Yesterday” which takes Chev’s nostalgic reflections and Hollis Wong-Wear’s swirling guest vocals, and plants them firmly in early 90s R&B territory.
Charles does go on too long, and Chev over-extends himself with the number of verses on a few tracks, but it’s hard to fault him for putting in work. If you’re first hearing him on this album, it’s his vocal aesthetic that will immediately grab you: a low-pitched, technically proficient flow. Chev’s is a fairly new voice in the local scene that resonates much louder than those of many more well-established ones.
REVIEW: Flatland – Katie Kate
Click album cover to purchase at Bandcamp.
The lazy blogger in me wants to immediately throw Katie Kate into the suddenly ubiquitous White Girl Swag Rapper category. To do so, however, would not only be grossly inaccurate, but also majorly unfair to the artist. While Katie is (at times) guilty of parroting a steez that borders on the racially offensive, her style of electro-infused, party-oriented brag rap is ultimately a valuable addition to the Seattle rap scene, a mostly male-dominated expanse criminally devoid of female voices in general.
In the local context, Katie is the feminine answer to Mad Rad. The two acts incidentally share a label home at Out For Stardom, as well as a similar fundamental identity: that of the emotionally tormented (exhausted?) seven-days-a-week party purveyor. On Flatland, Katie Kate’s debut album, the MC/singer/producer makes it perfectly clear that she has problems and that the absolute best way to deal with them is to dance and sing her way through the strife.
On “Totebag” Katie fills a proverbial knapsack with emotional remnants from past loves, both tragically good and bad. A well-executed flip of those killer chimes from The Brothers Johnson’s “Strawberry Letter 23” is like a bittersweet sprinkle of stardust over the track’s synth-laden thump. Most of Flatland’s ten tracks are similarly charming exercises in rudimentary beatmaking. Katie employs a learned appreciation for bare-knuckle 808 knock and the endless array of effects at her synthesized disposal. The best example is “Hunting,” an industrial-grade dance workout that finds Katie on the prowl; it’s here that she’s at her most charming, toying with her sonic creation with deft switches between rapping and singing. Unfortunately she does neither exceptionally well…yet. Her attempt at lyrical miracles on “Uh.. No” leaves much to be desired and “Bodyout Princess” (an inane declaration of the artist’s unique identity and perhaps formal unveiling of the Official Katie Kate Tagline) is simply too far out-of-bounds for her, vocally.
Still, there’s much promising on Flatland. Katie, like the best electro-pop artists, is capable of finding the fleeting humanity within electronic music’s artificial constructs. Whether it’s the lovely reserve of her singing on “Houses” or the playful yet astute romantic observations on the echoing “Constellations,” a significant swath of Seattle’s music-loving populace can relate to Katie Kate’s point-of-view, and for this reason Flatland is an invaluable entry to the game. In a post-genre musical world like today, where some folks find themselves stumbling through (the grumpy rap purist set) and others drift seamlessly between genre amalgams (the wide-eyed youngsters), it’s mad scientist artists like Katie Kate who have the most to gain and the least to lose.
REVIEW: Charity Starts at Home – Phonte
Will Johnsen, curator of all good things over at Seattle’s Members Only blog, was gracious enough to let me contribute my review of Phonte’s Charity Starts at Home to their site. This LP resonated with me in a different way than most, so pardon the self-indulgent turn my writing takes. Click here to read the full review over at Members Only.
DOWNLOAD & REVIEW: SwimSuits (The Mixtape) – Stevie and Sam
Click album cover to D/L.
The last time I was at a house party, a dude who could not handle his liquor (four drinks in he was puking in someone’s bedroom) became very upset at a former girlfriend and proceeded to defile her character in all sorts of horrible ways in front of everyone in attendance. The last time I was at a club with a group of people whom I mostly didn’t know, I spent the majority of the night practicing my lip-reading skills (of which I have none) and nodding at what seemed like appropriate times during the course of a dozen meaningless conversations with people I will probably never see again.
Thank goodness, then, for music like Stevie and Sam’s SwimSuits, the soundtrack to a fantastical world where every hot girl at the party wants to go down on you, and every night out at the club feels like you’re kicking it in someone’s living room with a thousand of your closest friends. That’s the reality SwimSuits (and its other similar electro-R&B/rap ilk) exists in. It’s fun. It’s hedonistic. It’s impossibly expensive. And it’s a pleasure to see a crew from Seattle parroting the themes of more well-known taste-makers who share the same subgenre.
Stevie and Sam don’t do it as well as Frank Ocean or The Weeknd, but not for lack of trying. They’re not excellent vocalists yet, though both are effective in imparting the flippant casual cool that’s so vital to the mood. State Of The Artist’s TH lends his gravelly MC register to “Timeless Opulence,” a lifted bass-heavy slow-roll that celebrates a contented rap-life stasis derived from being high either off drugs or your own delusions of grandeur. Themes and aesthetic remain mostly the same throughout SwimSuits with Stevie and Sam bouncing their cocky brag-rap/sing off electronic soundscapes awash in keyboard waves and bounding with rapid high-hat and electronic adornments.
Unrelenting talk of debauchery aside, there’s a detectable element of innocence here. Almost like Stevie and Sam don’t quite know what it is they’re engaging in, even though they’ve seen it a thousand times before on television. Frank Ocean can’t help but bare a cautious optimism that’s betrayed by his old soul. The Weeknd’s Abel Tesfaye seems to have already hit bottom and is trolling the void for as many good times as he can before beginning the essential steps toward survival. Stevie and Sam still have room to grow into their indulgences, both musically and habitually. For this duo, a million different directions are possible and virtually all are promising.
DOWNLOAD & REVIEW: The Broken Time Machine – Carl Roe
Click album cover to D/L.
MC Carl Roe is an interesting entrant to the Seattle rap scene. A native of Elgin, Illinois, a conflicted youth in the Midwest followed by an enlistment and tour of duty in Iraq as a U.S. Army Infantryman is the path Roe followed before his arrival in Seattle, where he is now a hopeful and hustling artist in the local hip-hop scene.
206UP.COM became familiar with Roe back in January in the second edition of The TrackMeet (click here for that post). His winning entry, “Lock it Down, Sew it Up,” was a frantic double-time composition paired with boasts by the MC of his superior rap skills. After getting past the beat, which had a fairly dated feel, a hungry rapper with a very natural flow and knack for maneuvering complicated rhyme patterns was revealed.
The Broken Time Machine is Carl Roe’s official entry into the Seattle hip-hop landscape. It’s eight tracks long and has an old-school feel, with big beats and breaks, a few overwrought rock flourishes and Roe’s signature double-time. “Stuntman” (the previously-released single featuring J. Bre, another up-and-coming Town MC) is the best track, a commanding declaration of the two rapper’s dominance over their lesser competition, or “stuntmen” as they call them.
“The voice of the Army Infantry in hip-hop,” as Roe claims in his bio, his stint in the Army informs the lyrical foundation of TBTM. Deeply affected by his Iraq war experience, the MC is unashamed of allowing his music to act as an outlet for his anguish, especially on the emotive “We Own the Night” which has an Evanescence-like quality (for better or worse).
It’s a safe bet Carl Roe’s style will not resonate with everyone. His flow and beat choice operate at-odds with contemporary hip-hop, and of course there will be the requisite criticisms centered around his skin color. No matter. What Seattle has in this artist is an MC focused intently on the craft and how his particular life experience fits in to it. In hip-hop, that’s all you can really ask for.
REVIEW: Relax – Das Racist
The primary goal of those truly astute comedians who center their acts around observations on on race and racism is to extract some degree of deeper understanding from their audiences. For them, there is no greater offense than crowd ambivalence. The disappointment in audiences’ failings is the reason Dave Chappelle divorced a fifty million dollar contract and fled to Africa to save his sanity. It’s the reason Chris Rock’s early stand-up routines were philosophically based in a contemptuous rage for the world and many of the people sitting before him. And it’s the same reason Das Racist (composed of three well-educated men of color) allow themselves to fall into lackadaisical stage performances at shows where, it’s important to add, the audience is typically composed of white, college-aged males who are all too eager to repeatedly chant the chorus to “Combination Pizza Hut and Taco Bell” but not consider why the song is so devastatingly funny. If Das Racist concerts were frequented in the majority by folks of color, it’s certain you would see an entirely different display of the trio’s very substantial rap skills rather than the lampooning they derive from the attendant status quo.
REVIEW: NoYork! – Blu
As far as underground rappers go, Blu represents near perfection. Ever since Below The Heavens, his 2007 collaboration with producer Exile, West Coast kids rocking Jansports and Vans have used the MC’s albums like warm blankets, Golden Era-type soundscapes perfect for draping over themselves during chilly winter nights on the Pacific Ocean. Blu has been at the center of the next wave of the underground Cali rap tradition, the same one that celebrated crews like The Pharcyde and Hieroglyphics have carried since the early 1990s…
VIDEO & REVIEW: SEALAB 2012 – La
Click album cover for Bandcamp link.
Check the preview video for SEALAB 2012 (officially dropping tomorrow). This album marks La’s third time out with his third different producer. Jester gets behind the boards for a full 12 tracks this time, lacing the MC with sample-heavy joints that are less aggressive than Roll With the Winners but more contemporary than Gravity. The title of the album references the eponymous cartoon series from the early 1970′s and the Adult Swim redux from 2000.
La is still a problem on the mic, his metaphors and boasts sticking to the beats like darts on corkboard, but LAB is definitely the weakest of his three LP’s. It’s become clear that La can outpace the majority of Town rappers and it’s this blogger’s belief that dude can rhyme about anything and make it sound interesting. For the duration of LAB, however, La concerns himself mostly with two things: weed and sex. And, while this may have been the point, it doesn’t mean it’s as engaging as his previous albums.
The other issue is with Jester’s production. What made Winners such a dynamic listen was the jab-hook-uppercut combination of La’s all-out rhyming-like-his-life-depended-on-it steez and Blu-Ray’s throwback sample slap. Jester’s beats often lack the same authority. Not to say there aren’t highlights: “Dutches” and “Magnums” feature heady, hazy synth and both tracks refreshingly stand apart from anything found in La’s back catalog. And “Goods” is the most radio-ready the MC has ever sounded with a track that pops along in the same mode as Biggie’s “Juicy.”
The other notable aspect of LAB is the presence of some fairly heavy-hitting cameos. I won’t ruin the surprise in advance of the album’s release, but I will say “Diamonds” is a triumphant posse cut that features two of La’s prominent brothers in both rhyme and ethnicity. It’s dope to see accomplished MC’s co-sign for La on his own album, but the greater testament is the fact that their presence isn’t (and never was) necessary to affirm his skills. On his way to local rap stardom, La has held his own consistently. With a few adjustments on the next go-round, his star will grow even brighter.
REVIEW: Watch The Throne – Jay-Z & Kanye West
The danger in scribbling down a hasty review of Jay-Z and Kanye West’s Watch The Throne, especially for a writer who is quick to react to the bellow of so-called “significant” pop music projects like this album (tentative raised hand), is that said writer might immediately be taken by the triumphal calls of a track like “Lift Off” which, upon first listen, glistens with an orchestral rap radiance befitting such a pair of pop icons, when, in reality, the track is just a jumble of overwrought synth bloat, a wasted Beyonce cameo and lame half-sung half-rapped auto-tuned nonsense. On the other hand, the danger in waiting for the gold and platinum dust to settle before writing about the album is that one could be swayed by the reviews that came before, especially the negative ones accusing Jay and West of recklessly indulging themselves in their fame and excess, thereby further diluting hip-hop’s greater meaning within the mainstream context. So what’s a writer to do? I suppose some comfort can be taken in the old proverb about history ultimately determining the legacy of its people, places and things. It’s impossible to tell now if Pop Music will canonize Watch The Throne, but if there’s one thing this critic has gleaned from listening to the record at least a dozen times in succession, it’s that it’s much more fun to deliberate over the question than it is to actually listen to the music. And that alone should tell you something about this project…
REVIEW: Love is a Business – The Physics
The Physics’ long-awaited second LP, Love is a Business, is that rare collection of music that isn’t even a week old but already feels comfortably familiar. It’s a lot like that well-worn paperback copy of your favorite novel you stuff into your carry-on before every vacation; or one of the few remaining CD’s you’ve chosen to leave displayed on your bookshelf, a tangible reminder of how carefully we used to curate the music that meant something to us, standing in defiant opposition to the daily haphazard sprawl of un-zipped files littering our computer desktops. Love is a Business is, at the risk of sounding jadedly cantankerous, a throwback to when hip-hop mattered. The fact that the online method of this album’s delivery won’t vary from every other release today is not a lost irony. Still, this is a record that feels like it should first be held in your hands, read over carefully with your eyes, and then discovered with your ears, song-by-song, in the comfort of your ride or living room. You know, the way discerning heads used to distinguish the hip-hop that mattered most.
Given The Physics’ deliberate musical track record, this isn’t a surprising notion. The trio of producer (and sometime MC) Just D’Amato, and MC’s Thig Natural and Monk Wordsmith run a musical storehouse much like the celebrated local micro-brews referenced in their lyrics. Since the group’s 2007 debut album, Future Talk, their goal has always been to develop artisanal rap for well-paletted listeners using carefully concocted musical recipes with no disposable ingredients. That promise of quality was realized in subsequent EP releases, 2009’s High Society and last year’s Three Piece. Love is a Business is a further distillation and refinement of The Physics’ formula that relies heavily on layered compositions and soulful R&B progressions. It’s a richer listening experience than that of the crew’s past work, with subtle nuances and off-beat affections that suggest an act at the height of its maturity and creative zenith.
The first thing to note about LIAB’s vibe is how every one of its 13 tracks is given greater significance within the context of the album as a whole, a characteristic the majority of contemporary hip-hop records sadly lack. The first two songs on the album (the title track and “These Moments”) are exercises in quiet restraint. They lack hip-hop’s standard propulsive rhythms and instead rely on richly-layered vocal textures and interspersed live instrumentation to provide distinction and balance to Business’ wide spectrum of flavors. Even “Coronas on Madrona,” one third of last year’s brief Three Piece EP (and perhaps the best Seattle hip-hop track of 2010), seems more fully realized within the confines of LIAB. That’s not to say the album doesn’t feature tracks that can’t stand on their own. The best of these is the Native Tongues-channeling, “Cheers,” where Justo executes a familiar dusty knock and easy bass groove with enough skillful tribute to stand up to even the most stubborn Golden Era revivalist’s skeptical ears. Similarly, album closer “Babble” demands its own attention with commanding horn blasts and an industry-affirming cameo from Phonte (of Little Brother and The Foreign Exchange). Both are excellent examples of hip-hop song making at its finest, but, unlike these tracks, most of the album’s other components would have difficulty existing independently of the whole. That’s meant as a compliment rather than a knock. LIAB is a linear, holistic listening experience, not something that can be broken down easily into separate elements.
Obvious attention was paid to the high grade production value of this record, but as any head will tell you, a hip-hop album ultimately travels only as far as its lyricism will allow. “Love” is in the title of this album and Thig Natural and Monk Wordsmith make sure it remains a prevalent theme throughout, giving careful consideration to what the love of their musical hustle means in relation to daily lives consisting of nine-to-five grinds and romantic matters of the heart. The slow roll of “Red Eye” is a familiar story of a lovesick traveler looking forward to coming home to the physical comforts of his woman. It’s a sophisticated outlook on domestic love that portrays a mature monogamy refreshingly devoid of pretense or prudishness. On the other hand, the playful bounce of “Clubhouse” is less about the strictures of commitment and more about f*cking for the sake of f*cking. The lesson here is that both types of relationships have their time and place, but careful regard for the consequences of each is not a mutually exclusive act from engaging in either.
The other important lady in the life of this crew is the physical environment responsible for nurturing the trio since childhood. Namely, the group’s home base of Seattle, Washington. There’s a deep love and necessity for their town that goes beyond a simple regard for a few favorite local restaurants and coffee shops. Tracks named for actual locations in the city (“Seward Park,” “Coronas on Madrona”) give the impression that this album couldn’t have been made without the influence of the group’s native area code. Thig Nat’s easygoing, composed flow is derived straight from a definitive West Coast nonchalance, especially of the type found in the Pacific Northwest. On “Cheers” Monk Wordsmith recounts an interaction with people from another city who wonder aloud if there are black folks in Seattle. Indeed there are, and Monk shows he is one of many highly skilled underground rappers with a hustle steeped in the city’s rich, albeit lesser-known, hip-hop tradition. Love is a Business is an important entry into that heritage, an album that should be cataloged and archived as a moment when Seattle rap officially entered adulthood.
REVIEW: Black Up – Shabazz Palaces
Click album cover to purchase at Sub Pop Records.
Two years ago…
An unsolicited email from a stranger. An exchange of contact information. The arrival of a mysterious package containing two enigmatic CD’s, the contents of which were bafflingly abstruse then, and continue to be now. This is one story, in brief, of how Shabazz Palaces came to exist in this writer’s musical conscious. There are other stories, too, but they are immaterial to the individual experience. As Palaceer Lazaro, the lead creative voice of SP says explicitly on Black Up, the group’s debut full-length album: “It’s a feeling.” These are words worth paying attention to. Do you remember how you felt the first time you heard Shabazz Palaces? If so, put all of your questions about the music and perceived answers to the side, for feeling Black Up is really all that matters.
REVIEW: Cinemetropolis – Blue Scholars
Click album cover for Bandcamp link.
Amidst the massive amount of success Blue Scholars has experienced since its formation in 2002, MC Geo (aka. Prometheus Brown) and DJ/producer Sabzi have remained stubbornly — defiantly even — proletariat in their musical aims. It’s a testament to the duo’s acute devotion to the rank-and-file they prefer to serve that there have been no Clear Channel radio-ready singles, no flirtations with major labels and their “fucked-up” (as Geo once put it) three-sixty deals, no appearances on late night television, and no wavering from the Socialist underpinnings that have provided the ballast for the group’s lyrical content since its inception.
In fact, in support of the crew’s third LP, Cinemetropolis, Geo and Sabzi asked “the people” to subsidize the album’s production via the Kickstarter platform, a move that could have been dismissed as rap hubris run amok if it had been made by any other group without a history as communally-oriented as this one. Fans replied to the tune of about $62,000 in donations in 45 days, a response that indicates Blue Scholars has become a sort of mini-movement in addition to just being a rap group. This particular album cycle is literally being powered by a loyal fan base that asks for little in return other than the group’s best efforts at dopeness on wax, which is exactly what Cinemetropolis represents thus far in Blue Scholars’ discography.
The group was unofficially knighted the de facto leader of Seattle’s underground hip-hop movement in the mid aughts, all of it due to the crew’s self-titled debut album, an accessible collection of Golden Era-styled boom-bap with a revolutionary spirit and anti-establishment bent. The group’s sophomore LP, Bayani, featured complex layers of rhythm and dense sonic textures that were darker in comparison. It was a dynamic listen on the headphones but didn’t translate nearly as well live. The album felt a little like growing pains with respect to the group’s sound, with fewer samples at the forefront of the production and more distinct musicality that provided unique description for the group’s identity.
With Cinemetropolis, Geo and Sabzi have separated themselves musically from every hip-hop group in Seattle’s now bustling scene and arguably from most acts nationally. Sabzi’s evolution as a producer over the last year or so has seen him shed the sample-heavy boom-bap skin of the group’s prior work in favor of more colorful compositions comprised of heavy synth and deep reverberating drum and bass that often sounds tropical. Tracks like the rolling, low end-heavy “Slick Watts” and “Seijun Suzuki” fall in line with the producer’s ride-friendly work for Das Racist (“All Tan Everything” and “Who’s That Brown?”), while the beautiful, sweeping synth waves of the epic “George Jackson” is akin to the arrangements of Made In Heights, his electro-pop side project with singer Kelsey Bulkin (who also lends vocals on Cinemetropolis’ title track).
It’s impossible to determine whether Blue Scholars has officially found its particular “sound” or if this is just one paragraph in the group’s musical narrative, which seems more likely. It’s unlikely, however, that a similar lyrical concept will ever pervade future albums. Cinemetropolis was intentionally engineered as a “reverse soundtrack,” whereby each of the album’s fifteen tracks will inspire accompanying short films and/or music videos. The group is interested in how film informs our perception of real life and vice versa, a conceit that generally holds the LP’s wide spectrum of subject matter together. The idea is especially interesting when you factor in the group’s reputation as a socially conscious outfit, a regard that has made both group members shift uncomfortably in their seats during interviews. Blue Scholars has appealed equally to rap heads that keep themselves in-the-political-know, and those less informed folks who might find themselves Googling Geo’s many references to revolutionary factions in colonized locations across the globe. Many of Cinemetropolis’ song titles are great fodder for the Wikipedia machine and there’s much to be learned strictly from that search button exercise.
Listen more intently to the lyrics, however, and a greater depth is revealed. Geo is one of the best lyricists at extrapolating big ideas from simple concepts. “Fou Lee” is named after a Vietnamese grocery store on Beacon Hill where Blue Scholars and other members of their team would stock up on food during the Bayani recording sessions, thus the track becomes an emblem for both creative and physical sustenance. “Hussein” may or may not be a specific reference to the 44th President of the United States, but it’s definitely about the MC’s desire for change much greater than what has occurred in the last three and a half years. Even a track like “Slick Watts,” which isn’t much more than a glorified interlude, might contain a reference to gentrification when, after a comprehensive Seattle neighborhood roll-call, Geo says, “Got some folks leavin’ / Got other folks comin’ / Somebody had to go and say somethin’.” The analysis might be a stretch but it’s not out of bounds given the MC’s point of view.
Certainly less ambiguous is “Oskar Barnack ∞ Oscar Grant,” a track that encourages the public documentation of police brutality in order to maintain some semblance of accountability of the boys in blue. It’s a far cry from “Fuck Tha Police” but far more militant than any other Blue Scholars track that exists in public. The choral chant of, “Shoot the cops / Shoot the cops / Shoot the cops / Take your cameras out your pocket people,” is blatant enough to be incendiary and enigmatic enough to remain halcyon. It’s a noble attempt at reminding the public of how powerful we are when maintaining a united front against injustice. It also perfectly captures the ethos of this group. The men of Blue Scholars have an amiability that immediately places them on a level relatable to most. It’s a combination of focused ire and off-the-charts creative acumen, however, that allows them to craft a hip-hop auteur’s monument like Cinemetropolis.
REVIEW: Goblin – Tyler, The Creator
Comparing the music of Odd Future Wolf Gang Kill Them All to that of its hip-hop forebears has become quite fashionable. At this point in the group’s existence, critics have deconstructed the music in terms of rap sub-genre (“It’s horrorcore!”), hip-hop artists that have covered similar lyrical ground (“They’re like Eminem!”), and even through alignment with other genres that may not share rap’s musical aesthetic but find commonality in anarchic spirit (“A new version of punk!”). Comparatives are part and parcel of music journalism, but when they’re relied upon so heavily, as has been the case with Odd Future, the dreaded final analysis is usually that the subject is so derivative that nothing original can possibly be said.
REVIEW & DOWNLOAD: Kids in the Back 2 – Rockwell Powers & Ill Pill
Click album cover for D/L link.
Tacoma’s Rockwell Powers is an MC who knows how to posture in a different way than most rappers. In a genre where ninety percent of lyrical content is based on finding creative ways to self-aggrandize, and astute critical analysis of artists is fundamentally rooted in their ability to convince listeners of an often false legend, an MC who finds comfortable space in admission of uncertainty is a rare and welcome participant in the game.
Kids in the Back 2, the second full-length offering from South Sound duo Rockwell Powers and producer Ill Pill, is a fierce sixteen track declaration of independence. One of the biggest steps toward true self-realization is the ability to admit the existence of the unknown; Rockwell spends a lot of time doing just that on tracks like the soulful “Life” (featuring Sol) and Jazz-inflected “Doubt” (featuring live instrumentation from the MC’s side project, 10th & Commerce). Powers raises substantive questions about love, religion, art, and life’s purpose. To his poetic credit, for such heavy-handed subject matter his raps rarely sound preach-y or holier-than-thou, a testament to lyrics that have an explorative, conversational tone.
While this is an MC clearly feeling his way through life’s uncertainties, it’s not to suggest dude lacks confidence in his music. On the contrary, of all the things in his life, microphone prowess seems to be the one he has most figured out. “I Got This” is straight-up battle rap, an assertion of dopeness with grand percussion and horn licks suitable for nobility. Rockwell keeps his flow steady and even, for the most part, but he sounds more emotive than in the past. Likewise, Ill Pill’s well-conceived production is further advanced than on the duo’s first album, 2009’s Kids in the Back. While that LP emphasized more traditional straight-forward boom-bap, KITB 2’s compositions feature greater complexity in both rhythm and melody. The thick, expertly sampled thump of “These Songs” and the industrial beauty of “Head Up” are highlights of 2011 Pacific Northwest hip-hop.
Experienced listeners of rap music know that aggression and amiability in lyrics are not mutually exclusive. The best artists allow those dualities, and others, to be revealed without pretense or apology — those MC’s are by far the most believable because, in the end, we’re all rooted together in a human condition composed of opposite natures and experiences. Kids in the Back 2 is an album that allows more room for exploring all of that. Some in hip-hop might call that a weakness. The irony is that those who would call it such, don’t understand what it takes to be strong.
