P Smoov and Rik Rude of Fresh Espresso are the guys you would most want to party with and the guys whom you would never trust around your girl. This social quagmire could certainly create some problems on a Saturday night, especially if your lady isn’t looking to be left home alone while you’re out carousing with the two guys who are quickly becoming the hottest hip-hop act in the city. Curiously, the social contradiction also mirrors my relationship with their debut album, Glamour: I simultaneously love and hate it. Read on to understand why…

The Hate Side

I think Fresh Espresso are a couple of posers. There, I said it. In their live shows, they own the stage like real rock stars, which (presumably) affords them the affinities of many women. And, while they may be taking said groupies out for a nice steak dinner after the show, their music would have you believe they can afford Filet Mignon at El Gaucho, when, in reality, it’s probably more like a nice sirloin at The Keg.

Which begs the question: Are they keeping it real?

The answer: Sometimes. Maybe. I think.

On one track, P Smoov isn’t ashamed to declare that he’s been homeless and had to resort to selling his mattress to pay the bills, yet on most others, he’s shooting off “Diamond Pistols” and riding in fast cars with topless women, presumably on his way down the California coast to a beach house somewhere in Malibu. These worlds are in direct contradiction to each other, yet this crew exists in both. I expected some tongue-in-cheek/nudge-nudge-type lyrical musings to offset all the Diamond Life talk, but there’s none of that. We’re allowed to believe they somehow have it both ways. Oh well, maybe there’s a simple explanation, like Rik Rude’s side hustle is investment banking or something.

The Love Side

These dudes are supremely talented, and they’ve created what might be, to date, the most mainstream-friendly rap album to emerge from Seattle. It’s an unapologetic slap in the face to the other section of 206 hip-hop that would prefer to remain progressive and conscious, a huge above-ground guilty-pleasure for a hip-hop fan like me who tends to spend most of his time underground.

Smoov’s production is incredibly glossy, the aural equivalent of what the lips on one of his groupie’s might look like. Some of the tracks are busy and over-produced (“The Lazerbeams,” “Vader Rap”) while others are just right (“Elegant,” “All Around The World”), but the majority of the album is top-shelf, high quality hip-pop, music you’d expect to hear on a rap album with mass-market appeal. On the boards, P Smoov is definitely not a faker or an amateur, he’s an absolute pro, and it shows.

Rap-wise, both Espresso boys have confidence and swagger for days, and both are competent on the mic. Rik Rude, who handles most of the rapping, is a seasoned emcee and his stream-of-conscious flow fits nicely over P’s slick beats. Sometimes, however, he sounds tongue-tied, like maybe he didn’t loosen-up his chops with enough Hey-Now-Brown-Cows before stepping into the booth. P Smoov actually holds his own alongside Rik. His high-pitched flow is natural and engaging, and often he’s more interesting to listen to than his partner.

Back To The Hate

Unfortunately, lyrically, there’s not much substance here. It’s mostly talk about women, sex, haters, women, coming up in the rap game, fast cars, and women. This crew will not be encouraging us to vote for a particular mayoral candidate and a lot of what comes out of their mouths is just hot air. But then, so is a lot of good party music.

And Back To The Love

My final analysis is, you need to own this album. If not for the quality of music, then for the “f*ck you, pay me” statement it makes to all other major urban centers across the country that produce the majority of popular hip-hop. This album proves that Seattle is more than backpacks and Birkenstocks, REI and snowboards. We can be cocky, too, see. Even if it takes a group like Fresh Espresso to blow some hot air up your ass to prove it.