Kanye has two sex tapes floating around, that according to various gossip outlets supposedly demonstrate his superhuman stamina and ability to use his “hehhhh” adlib appropriately or some shit. Guaranteed once theyre released it will if anything, further his career in an era where no one cares about sex tapes and this is why the rap media is illuminati funded. How is Yung Berg’s name synonymous for failure when every one of his robberies/self-pwns can easily be topped by one from fellow Chicago rappers Kanye and Lupe?
Lupe, a fucking god awful, artless, clumsy writer with a Kweli-ian ability to count bars and Ron Howard voice, prone to the kind of sloppy, reactionary ideas you normally only encounter before age 20 at that point at the end of a long night of taking drugs when the epiphanies are coming in by the bundle and youre frantically agreeing with whatever deep thought fragment the crustie at the other end of the couch shits out. Except with those two people its just vague platitudes and with Lupe its this Alex Jones-strong conviction, gimmicky, muddled conceptualizing, inflammatory sloganeering (eg his deconstruction of “bad bitches”) and presented like its been peer-tested by the world’s finest sociology professors.
All this actual criticism is giving him too much respect though cos hes also the character who:
Made a condescending song about having conflicted feelings listening to gangsta rap/many sweeping statements about people glorifying capitalist rap shit etc before being revealed to have earlier in his career made as much of a flossy gangsta rap song as a beta clown like Lupe could:
Performs a Tribe Called Quest tribute on a tv show made specifically for young people/rappers to show respect to their elders then forgets the lyrics/doesnt bother to learn them in first place. Later when asked to apologise, says he was thuggin’ too hard to be into Tribe and spent his youth listening to Spice 1 and Too $hort tapes
Proud of his superior reasoning and refusal to drop n-bombs then when provoked by Bol (bear in mind this was pre-rap blogs current ubiquity and industry cache) calls him a “bitch ass n***a”
Made a concept song about a young black man trapped in the cycle of crime and poverty or something, from the perspective of a hamburger
He voluntarily named himself “fiasco”
Kanye’s flaws as a rapper and public gaffes/transparent media stunts are well charted territory at this point so theres no need to detail every one. His knee-jerk Katrina “commentary” being treated like him just having a heartfelt, sincere moment when he just happens to be on the telly is understandable enough I suppose but the fact he is delusional enough to power through shit like taking himself too seriously to get a South Park parody about him taking himself too seriously to get jokes, and “fish sticks” isnt shouted at him at every public appearance from now til hes buried under the Vanity Fair building, isnt on at all.
Theres a difference between the arrogant lavish living in denial of the sort Rawse has perfected and being sonned repeatedly and not only getting all fauxmotional and not taking the shots like a man, then having your $cientologist media connects implant enough subliminal thetans in ads on Rap Radar and Worldstar that this shit is actually debated rather than universally agreed to be the car crashes they are. Once that element of doubt is in the air, any dents thats might have appeared in their rap armour are smoothed out.
Ye let yourselves be told Berg was a washed up pop rapper whos only skillz are being humiliated when hes clearly a pretty successful songwriter/producer and businessman caking off a decade long career in the music industry. Im glad Ma$e isnt the standard punchline anymore for many people though, since he was a great rapper with a classic debut, not recognized as such only because it was released immediately following De La & Jeru’s drawing a line in the sand with Rap Game Gordon Geckos on one side, rhythmless sci-fi fans and middle aged killjoys shaking their fists at any cloud with silver in it, on the other.
Here – I like my entertainers contradictory, with questionable personal beliefs and able to churn out a public incident or two like anyone else and you can go enjoy Kanye and Lupe’s bad rap songs(in Kanye’s case, the dozen or so that arent great/saved by more capable people) if you want, just leave poor Ma$e and Berg alone, make “lupefiasco” a verb and distribute your respect where its deserved. Your rapper dudes arent real rap superheroes, breh, theyre cubicle warriors who left their Comic Con tights on too long
Oh man, I did the knowledge and I may have been prematurely in the building feeling myself with the last post. Not only have the episodes I came across already been streaming at this really great blog for a few months, theres a few others including one that has Marilyn Chambers performing some innuendo laden, porno chic era Je T’aime… Moi Non Plus type jawn immediately following James’ weekly edutainment interview with an elderly lady who knew Booker T. Washington.
Heres the episode with Roni Hill and Lee Austin if you find their player too fiddly.
-full episodes of James Brown’s Future Shock telly show! Man – far too much going on here for me to attempt to summarize so I’ll just grant one mention to ahead of her time, partial yamaka angle cap rocking young one at 5:50 taking the show’s name seriously. Ill try and upload the other episode to YT tomorrow if I’ve time.
What part of your interconnected networks is fucking with youtube in 2012? This past year or so, against all logic, its realigned itself with Mecca and increased the rare exclusive secrete artifacts count tenfold. Most of interest to the Rap Game Krelboyne interested in the minutae of his favourite rapper’s working week are the endless behind the scenes studio clips, concert footage and interviews, often the least salted of which are to be found on the traditional street dvd beloved of every gangsta rapper since Snoop Lion kicked down the buildings.
Whats so great about this particular documentary though is along with the obvious care and time that went into making it (filmed over the course of 4 years between 02-06) and relatively high production values, the limited niche appeal of dudes punching in a dozen times for an 8 bar verse, production nerdery, already platinum declarations etc are kept to a minimum. It also never feels exploitative, which is often a concern when youre an ofay comfy blogging from a certain selectively developed country that still has a lot of grass for road stripes and old boy politicans who ball like a far less sophisticated Freddy Rumsen:
Its mostly down to the subject. Always an engaging and thoughtful interviewee, the doc does a great job of being reflective of Cormega’s character, which is a ridiculous thing to say about someone whos effectively a stranger really but if theres one impression you get from ‘Mega its that he (again not to romanticize criminality) does appear to live by the codes & ideals that’re an integral part of his music. Despite the requisite screen time given to glassy eyed strongarm men in northface shouting out longitudes & latitudes and some minor flashing of small arms, he makes equal fuss of visiting a clinic for paraplegics and interviewing his charismatic older relatives. Like the other great remorseful thug dudes of the 00s – Z-Ro, Beanie, Jacka & Boosie its the introspection and conflicted morality as much as it is the balls out hard manning that makes him so fascinating.
I mean theres Marly Marl, Hot Day, Tragedy & Poet talking about his feared battle rep, Kurupt, Pete Rock and PMD cameos, a classic Mob Figaz sideshow segment and so forth but what really makes makes it stand out from most haphazard rap dvds is the unbridled sincerity and folksy wisdom. Shit like him dropping “prestige is a cultural illusion” into casual conversation, giving up many important gear flossing minutes to a middle aged sports memorabilia dude and enthusiastically directing a game of musical chairs at his baby shower. As good as Wayne dismissing an interviewer because he asked about brass band music or Fettucinni P threatening to shoot people in their muscles is, theres definitely something to be said for following someone this earnest around for a few hours as they drop the occasional pearl and deconstruct rapper/hustler foibles.
Revisiting the Wild Weekend episode where Ice Lou plays basketball at Master P’s house and gets his shoes laced by the worldwide international godfather gangsta pimp Mello-T recently has inspired me to see if I can unearth anything by the Mississippi rap pioneer thats cropped up since The Martorialist’s priceless posts on him from 2010.
His record shop/label’s Family Tree compilation from 1999 is pretty good though and possibly even worth it’s extortionate price tag on Amazon. As well as a fair few previously unreleased Wildliffe Society bangers it even has 2 solo songs by Treasure, someone most of us who watched the episode assumed was just being strung along with rapper pipe dreams by Mello, her Jesus Christ. I suspect he never got round to setting a date for the wedding though.
As novel as hearing the now well-worn “rapping = sex” concept from a female perspective is, I’m not quite enlightened enough to not find “the head of my pen is sensitive, it gets all exited when i give, it a handjob it starts to throb, the ink starts coming out in blobs all over the paper” somewhat nauseating tbh, however well executed.
Considering my last post contained two songs with enough comedy t-shirt slogan fodder to last the next two world cups and my less than kosher attitude to browbeaten women expressing their sexuality through rapping, a good conscientous, Gaurdian reading, chickpea stewing right’un like your boy should probably feel a ways about this being my favourite song off the comp. Theres still jew-els for the wary though:
“get your hair done, get your nails did, get some new shoes for your kid”
I’ll leave the asking myself questions severely for now though as theres also a token ’90s gangsta rap conscious album cut (TM Too Short) to address the karmic balance. While it is undeniable fact that no one rapped about dealing crack cocaine like the acne ridden teenage character from The Simpsons til The Clipse came along, one or two mischevous upstarts like Mello-T gave their “feed poison to those who could very well be my kin” angle a dry run before those groundbreaking Virginia virtuosos made it Art. Granted, it probably would be a downer if an old secondary school teacher approached you wanting to reenact the Woodrow skit but man is that shit hilarious when its a particularly cuntish one getting thrown out a strip club with vomit on his shirt. On a weeknight, no less.
Unfortunately the only previews of his bizzare collabo with middle aged MD, Dr Frank McCune…
I could find were on itunes and seem to have been taken down. Thats a shame cos according to Martha’s customer review from cduniverse.com, Transition “is the solution to the universal disparities suffered by people of color through the diaspora” – a far more convincing argument than any of Nas’s fully-baked mumbles on how making a song about a trolling right wing pundit is basically the same as Malcolm, Martin & Huey painting the white house black after pissing on John Wayne’s grave.
Yes, thats turn of the century LA gangsta rap architect and charming host of MTV Arabia talent show Hip Hop Na, Fredwreck, congratulating infamous mover & shaker of dictator’s hands and Celebrity Big Brother firebrand Gorgeous George’s local election win on twitter.
This might seem an odd pairing to your average citizen but really, whats more GTA: San Andreas than two lads with excessive facial hair dreaming of “wading ashore, Kalashnikov in hand” and “a bitch that’ll shine my rims up and open my door”?
I’m really not Bol-itickin or anything but how amazing would a whole album of pro-Palestine screwface rap produced entirely be Fredwreck have been in 2005? If 99% of capital P “political” rappers since 1995 hadn’t learned their craft by attending beyond the brink KRS-One college lectures and reading Chuck D books instead of just watching old Ice Cube videos, that is. Unfortunatly Fred did that shit too and put the senile blastmaster on his woeful spanish guitar polluted attempt at recreating Whats Going On:
Even Pyramids P could’t save something that has Alchemist, Evidence and Everlast verses all stacked together.
** Update: Turns out Hi-Tek produced I Need A Bitch. I wonder what pre flip-flop principled killjoy Mos Def would’ve thought about that, not to mention Fredwreck lacing KRS.**
I might be showing my clueless european colours here but didn’t the bay used to be a bit obsessed with numbers? I think it was a way of combating the all-encompassing Northern Califoolya Yay Area community spirit, which could end up making your particular tiny Hamlet even more anonymous. I think a few rappers decided that if they name themselves after their area code/post code/longitude and lattitude, the one-horse minor break in the scrub they got their short trousers dusty in might gain some fame.
415 likely started all this faffing about and if what Richie Rich says here is right, even inspired long beach supercrew 213’s name. If thats true its also possible that the late, great 1/3 of that group responsible for the concentrated objectification above kept his ear to the ground, was up on all the 90s numerical mob music and was inspired by 11/5 – I Got Bitchez (1996, A1 Yola)
an even less equitable, even more suga’ free estimation of the fairer 50% of our species’ worth than anything the man with I Got Hoes and Aint No Fun in his catalogue ever made. Seriously though brih, read all the names in this line-up without taking your shoes off:
If ever a rapper throws a female friend out a moving car or shoots someone over a dice game and needs better justification than “I’m not right, look at this colourful confectionery tattoo covering a good heft of my face”/they had to regulate, that rapper should study Jacka’s verse here.
Once they beat the case I hope they hire whoever made the beat (+ email me once they’ve found out how that Computer Love/”f-f-f-f-resh” scratch/stock alien creature chirp sfx(?) is made, as thanks for the excellent judicial advice) and try and make something half as inspirational as a song consisting of shit like:
“invisible roof, I got loot, had a miserable youth”
“flat screen make your temperature boil”
“boys shooting dice for the space toys, its christmas in the ghetto, chief – everybody eats”
along with possibly the first recorded usage of that epithet primarily known for coming out a few italian-americans mouths pre-1990 – “mooly” instead of the n-bomb as a term of endearment. That last ones way stranger than George & Fred imo and once again proves that as well as teaching the rest of America how to say “bitch” and make trunks rattle, no one does weird like the Bay.