Fresh out the Dyme Def camp and courtesy 2DopeBoyz.
Download “Time4That” here. Sounds like the theme song to a Dyme Def Saturday morning cartoon. That is, if said cartoon was about putting girls on your jock. (Definitely not on some PBS sh*t. Or is there a greater lesson to be learned here? Hmm…)
For your viewing pleasure, make sure to check this out.
GT + Khingz = Khingz + GT = Abyssinian Creole (the collective, which this show is NOT). However you slice it, them dudes will get your head nodding and teach you a little sumthin’ in the process.
Yirim Seck raps like most people drink water. Or breathe. You know those normal human activities we all do with such mandatory repetition that we forget we’re doing them? Some artists paint pictures, some authors write novels, and some athletes play sports in the same fashion. It just comes naturally. Those folks have muscles that most people don’t. Yirim Seck just happens to have the Emcee Muscle.
Which is why, considering how intensely hungry the 206 hip-hop scene is for music these days, it comes as a surprise (at least to this blogger) that it’s taken this long for Yirim Seck to release a full-length album. He’s mostly known around town as one-third of (now defunct?) Pyrate Radio, an act that, surprisingly for all its considerable talent, has also never released an album (at least to my knowledge). I’m sure the inner-workings of a hip-hop group are fraught with a myriad of reasons why they can’t get their collective act together (Pearl Dragon, after all, has got a pretty good thing going with Champagne Champagne), but the release of a Pyrate Radio record would be cause for celebration for many underground fans.
Instead, we get Hear Me Out from Yirim Seck. And, trust, it’s enough. Here Yirim separates himself, talent-wise, from his Pyrate Radio brethren. In fact, he separates himself from most local rappers completely. Dude is talented. The first time I heard him spit was on the Pyrate Radio track, “Hey You Say You” where I was struck by his effortless, nonchalant flow and clever wordplay. There’s even more of that on Hear Me Out. Yirim possesses that rare rapper’s ability to effectively express himself without sounding like he’s working very hard. It’s a style that draws you in naturally to the music, a voice that complements hip-hop’s indigenous breaks and boom-bap perfectly.
On the album, he puts his talent to good-use. Yirim wants listeners to know he’s a fully-arrived solo emcee who’s legit (“Check”). He also makes clear that his life is filled with very ordinary circumstances, from the unexpected birth of his first child (“Rebirth”), to the struggle of trying to make a living off his art (“Run It”), to the sexual temptations that f*ck-up relationships (“Trust”). Hear Me Out‘s main character is an everyman who says, “See, I have some of the same problems you do.” That this everyman can tell his stories and present his particular ethos more lyrically than others is to the benefit of hip-hop fans everywhere.
The production is generally straight-forward, traditional hip-hop. There are no grand histrionic sonic arrangements or overwrought musical experiments. What it lacks in relative spectacular-ness, it makes up for in well-executed convention, mostly a mixture of DJ Premier-cloned beats with straight-laced underground sensibilities. Yirim Seck doesn’t need fancy sh*t anyway, there’s enough raw personality and talent here to announce a welcome (re-)arrival of this emcee without superfluous musical flourish.
Just because the general public doesn’t know who Yirim Seck is, doesn’t mean he’s an unknown among the members of Seattle’s hip-hop community. He’s been down with The Physics and Gabriel Teodros for years. They all came up rapping together. To fans, however, he appears to be that dude on the low, waiting for an opportunity. Like the ballplayer who’s kicked around the minors for a few years developing his skills, and then all of a sudden he’s in the majors batting .350.
In actuality, Yirim Seck’s just been busy living real life. Very few local artists eat off rap, and those lucky enough to do so are probably both greatly thankful for the opportunity but tired from the constant and necessary grind. Yirim Seck is already worn-out from the hustle, and he hasn’t even “made it” in the music business yet. It’s cats like these, the hard-working underdogs whose talent often makes them more-deserving than those above them, that hip-hop roots for.
Yes, hip-hop is a young man’s game. I’m 32 and there are certain t-shirts in my closet bearing logos that I can’t wear anymore. Similarly, there may be some music that I feel awkward listening to in my slightly-advanced age. (But I will not be telling you what it is.)
Brothers From Another may or may not be one of those groups. These two Echo Boomers (Breez and Goonstar) are hella young, in life and the rap game, so next time you see ’em at a show, make sure to get their autographs now before they blow. (Like when Ken Griffey was playing minor league ball in Bellingham. Not that I’m comparing their potential to Junior Griff, I’m just sayin’…)
Download their free EP, Roots. Seeds. Stems. here. (And don’t tell their moms what the title of the album references — shhh, it’s marijuana cigarettes…)
My earliest memories of hip-hop in the 206 begin with Sir-Mix-A-Lot and Kid Sensation. It’s sad, I know, but I’m an 80’s Baby who grew up in the San Juan Islands, a place that, when you’re young, seems light years away from the foreign metropolis that is Seattle, Washington.
Back then, my Seattle points-of-reference were limited to Mariners games, Red Robin and movie theaters, three things I was severely deprived of in my formative years. Hip-hop music and culture was available to me, but only in its mass-market form. I wasn’t close enough to the city to touch the underground. If I had been, I’d probably be a more learned student of the earliest Town movements.
Thankfully we have the internet, where the history of anything is available to those willing to spend time looking. Here are two pieces of Seattle-area hip-hop lore, some brick and mortar carved right from the foundation.
Click on the photo above for an interview with Jake One and Mike Clark (former host of Rap Attack on KCMU) courtesy of Cocaine Blunts. (Thanks to Andrew Matson, aka The Bulletproof Critic, for Tweeting this yesterday!)
UPDATE (9.24.09): And here’s part two of the interview.
1250 KFOX was one of the earliest outlets for hip-hop music in Seattle. Click the logo above to open up the time capsule (you gotta have a Facebook account to view). Make sure to check out the very first link, “Emerald Street Boys Nasty Nes Intro” and peep the comments — hip-hop is a family affair for some artists.
Respect the foundation!
The Cloud Nice collective stay on their grind. Download Jarv Dee’s Talkin Sh*t EP here. It’s rude, crude, and often funny brag-rap. A little amateurish, sure, but it’s the thought that counts. Some of the basement-style beats are filthy — like the Cloud Nice crew sprinkled dirt on their Casios before they made ’em.
And while we’re at it, here’s Helladope’s free download, Strickly 4 My DJz mixtape, too.
Hooray for free music!
The personal and musical metamorphosis of D. Black is a revelation around the 206 these days. In the span of time between the rapper’s debut album, The Cause and Effect, and his latest LP, Ali’Yah, a transformation seems to have taken place in the young man’s heart, mind, and soul which has much to do with assuming new grown-up responsibilities (marriage and the birth of a child) and, as Black has made very clear in recent interviews, a spiritual awakening that’s granted him new perspectives and motivations on why he does what he does.
Regardless of what you believe personally, the overarching force that gives Ali’Yah its potency is the same rare phenomenon that provides all great music their particular validations: honesty. On his new record, D. Black believes firmly in what he’s doing, which is making music for his children, family, and community without fear of contributing negatively to the advancement of those loved ones. He wants to make responsible music for the betterment of his people. In this sense then, Ali’Yah is a soaring achievement.
The seeds for this revolution were planted in The Cause and Effect which, for all its boastfulness, negativity, and hurt, still contained glimmers of both optimism and recognition of why the old D. Black was full of so much anger. That album’s best tracks were, by far, the introspective ones (“This is Why”, “Survive”) which seem to have paved the way for Ali’Yah, a record that can literally be played anywhere. I would feel equally comfortable bumping this album in my car, around small children, or even in church.
Positivity is the rule of the day here. There is no cursing. All the references to bullets flying are accompanied by a call to those responsible to put their burners down. Tales of graphic street violence are omitted and, in their absence, Black has put-forth challenges to the community to better itself (“Keep On Going”). Spiritual growth is also a major theme throughout Ali’Yah and, while not overtly preachy, Black isn’t ashamed to show reverence for the most high on “Close to Yah” (featuring Sportn’ Life labelmate, Fatal Lucciauno).
And, while Black doesn’t shy away from braggadocio, here it’s accomplished more humbly, less as a way to inflict gratuitous verbal beatdowns on wack-ass rappers (which, incidentally, isn’t necessary — it’s obvious D. Black is one of the best emcees in Seattle) and more as a way to progress his positive message. “The Return” is an edict that serves to announce his grand re-entrance to the game while simultaneously calling-out those fake studio gangsters that poison the art form and culture of hip-hop.
Musically, there isn’t one track that stands head and shoulders above the rest, which is actually okay. Albums that endure over time often stand on their conceptual completeness, a trait that Ali’Yah possesses. You probably won’t see a hit single come off this album but there is a satisfying cohesiveness that’s absent on most hip-hop records. Overall, the production is soulful, with a lot of sung hooks (local favorite Choklate blesses a track), but not at the expense of traditional boom-bap, which is to be expected from the likes of Jake One and Vitamin D who handle most of the arrangements.
It’s probably unfair to compare The Cause and Effect to Ali’Yah because they’re such starkly different albums, but the association is unavoidable. While The Cause contained all the traditional elements of aggressive, street-oriented rap, a secondary listen today — in light of what Black has accomplished on Ali’Yah — reveals a tired sound, an almost lethargic Black compared to the new version who is so obviously energized and excited about a new direction.
Perhaps the greatest accomplishment of Ali’Yah is that the rapper, even though he has so blatantly eliminated the guns, drugs, and women (aka, the “realness”), has not lost his credibility. In fact, he seems to have gained more of it. The word “ali’yah” means “ascent” in Hebrew. Here, D. Black has ascended beyond what other rappers have not, surpassed expectations built by his first album, and become a torch-bearer for what hip-hop music is truly capable of.
What self-respecting woman WOULDN’T want to be a part of this video? I’m forwarding this flyer to my best female friends, my cousins, my sister-in-law, my auntie, and of course, my mom. Ladies, go dig those clear heels out your closets and don’t forget to check your self-respect at the door!
(And, yes, this is happening in Seattle. Now excuse me while I go slam my head repeatedly into the wall in honor of mainstream rap music…)
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Uhh, yeah, this one threw me off just a tad. Take a listen and tell me what’chu think. It’s a song called “One Time” by a lil’ Canadian pop singer named Justin Bieber (top) and featuring Renton’s finest, Brainstorm.
Here’s the download and here’s the (ridiculous) video — sans Brain, thank heavens.
Is it a mixtape remix? A child star’s pre-meditated attempt at capturing street-cred? A possible career-turn for Brainstorm? I remain skeptical, but I’m giving B the benefit of the doubt here. (The kid is down with Usher after all, so you can’t really hate…Can you?)
(WARNING: Under no circumstance should you listen to this song more than twice in a row, as it’s grade-A certifiable kiddie-pop crack and the hook will get stuck in your brain [ha!]. You’ve been warned.)
Tonight, at The Crocodile…
And Thursday (9/17), at The Showbox @ The Market…
It doesn’t get much better than this one-two punch. And big-ups to the Sportn’ Life family for doing it big on both bills.
In related news: I’ve listened to about half of D. Black’s Ali’Yah. So far it’s predictably uplifting and powerful. There’s something extra-special at work when a hip-hop artist consciously sets out on a mission to uplift his community. This is a case where the message is far greater than the music. As always, a review is on its way so stay tuned.
A SEATTLE HIP-HOP BLOG 