From BeanOne‘s box of classic samples, the video for “High Noon” (off that new 199Yuk ‘tape) serves double duty as a commercial for Officials Vintage on Capitol Hill. Franchise Yukmobbers Fearce Vill and Romaro Franceswa do the raps.
Herein bumps one of the most satisfying listens you’ll come across this calendar year. BeanOne and his Yukmob team (that’s: Fearce Vill, SEV, Romaro Franceswa, Davey Jones, and Cazsh, but who’s counting?) with a new mixtape called 199YUK. Bean reworks a grip of classic beats and samples — from you-know-what decade — into fresh instrumentals for his motheryukkers to recite new raps over. Everything is seamless and each track elicits an iPod search for the original source material. Even better is the communal kinship the “crew tape” format generates (ala classic team-ups like the Wu, Westside Connection, The Firm, and Seattle’s own Massline [RIP], for that matter).
Multinational conglomerate Yuk The World has added skater Joe Andrews to its team. I’m not entirely sure what that means but I’m sure it will add up to something pretty awesome. Speaking of awesome: below is a video clip of Joe doing his thing around Town with the latest track from Fearce Villain and BeanOne, “Honor,” providing the buttery soundtrack in the background. Download the joint above and below.
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.
Dyme Def’s new full-length, Yuk the World, drops tomorrow (Tue, 12.6.11). Here then is the refreshingly low-budget video for “Blue Moons and Green Lights,” directed by do-it-all entertainment conglomerate and de facto crew member, BeanOne. The latest chain of clips from Dyme Def has been high on that got-it-for-cheap kitsch which harkens back to the rawness of their debut LP, Space Music. And that’s A-Okay with me.
I’m about halfway through this new free release from Olympia’s Xperience, but already I can say I digs it. Perhaps not as much as the MC/singer’s previous for-profit offering, William The VIII, which, upon re-listening, has shown itself to be 2010’s most slept-on regional release. The Durden Papers Vol. 1 is (so far) more hyped and party-oriented, mostly due to producer BeanOne’s stripped-down slap. Catch XP on tour with long-time homies Macklemore and Ryan Lewis.
The best rapper to ever come out of our capital city? Oldominion affiliate Xperience goes in here. X has never sounded more dexterous. BeanOne drops more of that no-frills, stripped-down drum and bass sh-t he’s been on lately. It all adds up to something nice for your weekend.
Dyme Def executes more swag rap about being really good at sex, rapping and drinking a lot at parties. BeanOne shows us what it would sound like if Austin Powers had a hip-hop soundtrack. Fearce Villain used his iPhone 4 for this and it shows. In a good way.
Correction: there is a “z” at the end of Th3rdz. And it is pronounced “The Thirds.”
Now that that’s established, check the latest drop from the Oldominion-affiliated three-man wrecking crew of Candidt, JFK and Xperience. “Wylout” is produced by BeanOne and sounds like one of them early hype Wu-Tang joints. The kind built exclusively for jumping up and down repeatedly in the club. If this track were a candy bar, it would consist of chocolate, caramel nougat and crunched up bits of microphone. It’d be called a “Chunky, Son!”