If there is one thing that really pisses me off, it’s pretentious Coffee Shop Art Rap. This album was released during the height of the “experimental” LA hip-hop movement, which gave us high-pitched whiny efforts such as The Pharcyde and The Wascals (who were just a shittier version of the former). I guess we should blame the Good Life Cafe, which was fawned over by RapPages and other music mags on account of being a refreshing alternative to rapping about girls and guns over P-Funk. The thing is, King T and the Alkaholiks proved that it was possible to make great rap out West without sounding like a bunch of jazz loving beatniks, but since they were basically brag rappers the hip-hop media craved something more “left-field”. Thus the world had to endure the “conceptual improve” styling that is the Freestyle Fellowship. (more…)
Aubrey hangs out with his mom’s, sneaks his grand mother chocolate in between giving her daps, shows us his CD and shoe collection, drives his 2004 Acura, reads out some pretty creepy fan mail from a guy called Jason, shares some footage of his starring role in a local production of Les Miserables and pulls out his collection of tear-stained rhyme books. Bless his cotton socks!
If you have even the slightest clue about this here rap shit, then you have to acknowledge the fact that Erick and Parrish pretty much had the game in motherfuckin’ headlock with their first four albums. They brought a brand new funk to the scene with Strictly Business, delivered cutting-edge beat science on Unfinished Business and executed a near-flawless B-Boy document with Business As Usual, while Business Never Personal showcased the mighty Hit Squad at the height of their powers while slapping the shit outta listeners with ultra-hard cuts like ‘Boon Dox’. Combat Jack is going to tell you that based on the strength of this discography they automatically qualify as rap’s ‘Dopest Duo’ (word to Craig G), but that’s not the whole equation. My main motivation behind the ‘M.O.P are the greatest’ declaration is the fact that they’ve outlasted everyone and are still bringing that heat. It soon became clear that the most effective way to illustrate the Mash Out Posse‘s superiority is through the classic Take An ‘L’ Comparison Test. Let’s get it in! (more…)
According to Rolling Stone, this Asher kid is “a spacey stoner who practices yoga and enjoys musing on politics”. The first thing that springs to mind is “hippy douchebag”, right? Sure, but he’s not the first example of Frat Rap. Come to think of it, he was never actually in a fraternity, but since Steve Rifkind offered to wash my car if I covered Kid Roth, I thought I’d let Asher check out some of those who paved the way for the College Rap movement (including founder of The Source magazine, Jon ‘Sultan MC’ Schecter, pictured above), since he was in day-care when half these songs came out. (more…)
This is something that has had my goat for a long time – the near-extinction of the ‘regulators’ who used to keep this here rap shit in check. You know who I’m talking about – the hard heads who would throw bottles at weak rappers on stage, roll the herbs for their new Nikes and generally punch random toys in the throat just for living. It may not have been beer and skittles if you were the unwitting vic of one of these characters, but you couldn’t help but respect the hell out of what they stood for as they emptied your pockets. But as rap got bigger, the risk associated with attending a live event rapidly decreased, and before we knew it, spoken-word hippy douchebag rappers were performing on stage with no fear of reprisal by the turn of the century. Nine years later, it’s gotten to the point where only a handful of MC’s are willing to speak-up against the clownish attire and generally fruit-flavored behavior of ‘next-school’ rappers who are flooding the internets. Save the odd switched-on blog commenter, it seems that the only people willing to ‘Just Say No’ to dressing like a homo are myself, some guy called Mazzi and Termanology. Term initially caught my ear, but his ‘whisper’ flow was starting to lose me until he made the brave move to fight back against Hipster Rap Douchbaggery. The main question poised by this Boston-bred MC who now resides in the BX is, “Since when is it cool to dress like a dude who fuck’s another dude?” Since about a year ago, by my estimation. It’s only a matter of time until some broadsheet accuses him of ‘homosexual panic’ I guess.
Not me, obviously. But was there a particular incident or album that made you rip all your Word Up! posters off your wall and never listen to a particular rapper ever again? For some, it was Big Daddy Kane‘s Prince of Darkness LP. For others, it was KRS-One taking out PM Dawn (if you’re one of these foolish folk, please fall into your nearest volcano).
Dallas Penn offers: “Only dude I ever had faith in was Ice Cube and I think after I saw Boyz N The Hood I was like ‘Fuck this fake ass rap shit!’. Remember ‘Burn Hollywood Burn’? The next thing you know this dude is doing movies. I learned then that revolution is only the act of revolving – spinning around in the same place.” (more…)
Veteran hip-hop writers Andrew Emery (Hip Hop Connection, Fat Lace) and Chairman Mao (ego trip, XXL Mag) have both penned intelligent articles which take a far more open-minded approach to all the the trendy tight-jeans rappers than my own five-minute, hateful rant against the smedium shirt brigade. I’ve also notices that Wikipedia now also mentions “old-school hip-hop website Unkut and Jersey City rapper Mazzi” as leading the Hipster Rap backlash or some shit. Even the effin’ UTNE Reader has got in on the action.
So I get an email today from a guy from Underground Hip Hop dot com letting me know that the Kidz In The Hall gave Unkut a fair amount of airtime in this new video. Amusing to say the least. As I’d originally mentioned in the post, I only really included them to make up the numbers. They make decent enough music I guess, if you’re into that kind of shit, but there’s really no excuse for rocking canary yellow cardigans unless you’re Carlton from Fresh Prince of Bel-Air.
Anyway, cheer up fellas – you only polled thirteen votes!
Fruity red pants? Check. “Fairy flying” dancers on some Harry Belafonte‘s stage production in Beat Street? Check. Corny orchestral backing? Check. MJ white gloves and fudge scarf? Check. Please kill yourself immediately if you enjoy this guy’s rapping on any level.