4 items found for your search. If no results were found please broaden your search.
(03/16/11 8:00pm)
Clause 23 of Section 6 of Article 84 of the Hip-Hop Doctrine duly states, “If a rapper releases a 7 song EP in which only 3 of the songs feature rap lyrics, it is completely acceptable for fans to respond with outrage and/or denunciation of said rapper’s career.”
Being the ascetic Confucian that I am, I find it absolutely against my nature to contest anything in the Hip-Hop Doctrine, but in the case of Amnesia, the latest EP from critically acclaimed West Coast rapper Blu, even I must say that our founding fathers (Tupac, Nas, Ghostface and Timbaland) are sometimes wrong.
Despite being a mere 16 minutes long and featuring only 7 minutes of lyrics, Amnesia is quite far from something that should be met with outrage and scorn (unlike the Black Eyed Peas’ Superbowl Performance). The first song is “Amnesia,” a jazzy track in which Blu concurrently describes and questions who he is. He executes this beautiful paradox by using Billie Holiday’s classic song “Am I Blue” as a sample. Is Blu really “Busting chrome grills off at these soft hearted breakbeats bouncing with 808's and gray ink” or is he just making words rhyme? In fact? Who is Blu? Is he sad or something? I’m not sure. Even he doesn’t seem to know the answer.
The listener is given more time to ponder Blu’s existential crisis on the track immediately following “Amnesia,” which happens to just be the instrumental to “Amnesia.” Although the decision to place the instrumental of the song directly after the song could be seen as an indicator of Blu’s lack of songs to include on the EP or just poor album construction, I got the feeling that that was not the case. Being able to experience the pure instrumental directly after the actual song was actually quite sublime. Not only was I given more time to reflect on the lyrics of the actual song, but I also found myself even further submerged into the EP’s Nolan-esque theme of amnesia: “Did I not just hear this? Why does it sound different?”
The Amnesia continues with the song, “Amnesia (Remind),” which also samples Holiday’s aforementioned song. In this song, again sampling Holiday’s, “Am I Blue” and rapping over an instrumental that is noticeably more sprightly and allegro than the original song, Blu nostalgically extols a former lover, showering her with compliments and reflecting on how good she made him feel. Nevertheless, he ends the song with the lyrics, “One thing about real love: it’s worth seeking./ What’s the point in cheating if it’s something worth keeping?/ She asked why I did it. I ain’t really have a reason./ But it’s something ‘bout her grin that had me ch-ch-cheesin.” Again, Blu cannot account for his actions and is uncertain if they were even “his.”
Upholding the precedent set by the first song and instrumental pair, Blu has “Amnesia (Remind)” proceeded by its instrumental, again giving the listener the opportunity to experience amnesia, that strange yet familiar rabbit hole.
Blu emerged on the scene back in 2007 with his classic album, Below the Heavens. With the exception of some very memorable verses on The Roots’ last album, How I Got Over, much of his work since his debut has actually been below the heavens. Very far below the heavens. Thus, if his work with The Roots was evidence that he had found his wings, then this EP is evidence that he is learning to fly again. Join him in his ascent by picking up Amnesia. It’s only 6 bucks, yo. If that’s out of your budget, at least go watch Memento.
(02/23/11 9:00pm)
It is a truth universally acknowledged that a single consumer, in possession of a moderate fortune ($10?), must be in want of good music. In the world of Biebers and Gagas and Waka Flocka Flames and Lady Antebellum (I actually know nothing about this group. There’s a reason this column is named “Minority Report.”) accessing good music seems damn near impossible. However, you should not fret. Black Steve is here.
This week in Blackness, I shall impart to you some very important news that is related to your soon to be favorite hip-hop super-groups, Slaughterhouse and Money Making Jam Boys. Alongside burgeoning Alabama emcee Yelawolf, who you may have heard on Big Boi’s song “Your DJ Ain’t No DJ,” a dicey track from his latest LP, Sir Lucious Left Foot: The Son of Chico Dusty, a few weeks ago Slaughterhouse signed to Shady Records. This was a very big step for them because talks of signing to Shady had been in the works since late 2009. Composed of the very talented, yet relatively unknown rappers, Joell Ortiz, Joe Budden, Crooked I and Royce da 5’9, Slaughterhouse lives up to its name. By this I mean that they receive live animals and they murder them in ways that Upton Sinclair can not even begin to fathom. That was a joke. They just make good music. Nevertheless, I do think it is worth pondering how successful they can be when their name and their logo (a pig with its legs tied about to be slaughtered) is so inherently violent. People like the Wu, but there’s a difference between the discipline of martial arts and the brutality of factory farming.
Nonetheless, I have digressed. You are here to hear about the music and I am here to convince you that what you hear in a college newspaper column titled “Minority Report” is worth hearing. Hear, hear. To celebrate their newly forged alliance with Shady Records, Slaughterhouse quickly released an EP featuring 6 hot tracks. Because our time is short, I will discuss two songs. You can check out the other 4/6ths of the album later. As far as content, the standout track of the EP is the song, “Move On (Remix),” a vaguely melancholy song in which each member of the group discusses his own personal story and current understanding of “the hip-hop game.” Despite being 8 minutes long, it’s a very involved song and if you have any interest in seeing what direction they plan to send hip-hop to, listen. If you don’t like it, just move on. Although “Move On” has the best content, the most impressive display of wit occurs on the song “Fight Club (Remix),” which, of course, references your favorite angst ridden Chuck Palahniuk novel. “One rule, no rules.” I can’t really quote any of the lyrics because to really appreciate them you have to experience them sonically (Also, lots of profanity and innuendo that would never get printed in our “prestigious” publication), but I assure you, if you listen to the song and find yourself unimpressed, I will give you a full refund for this newspaper.
On a visceral level, when I heard the moniker, “Money Making Jam Boys,” I felt a slight wave of nausea. It’s just so generic and lame, honestly. Nevertheless, when I heard the music I was a fan. MMJB is composed of Black Thought, leader of the legendary Roots Crew (The Roots are currently in the house band on Jimmy Fallon), Dice Raw, a veteran rapper and frequent collaborator with The Roots, P.O.R.N. (I tried to find what this stands for, but my google search was very unsuccessful and “interesting.”), STS (Sugar Tongue Slim), and Truck. They recently released a mixtape entitled “The Prestige” and hot damn, it is prestigious. Unlike most free mixtapes you will encounter, it does not have those annoying DJ “audio watermarks” and it has genuinely good production. Ranging from the playful “International Playboy” in which the five hip-hop experts nonchalantly display their ability manipulate the nuances of language all the while still being cool “playboys” to more serious songs such as “Money Make the World Go Round,” in which they bitterly discuss the power of money, the Money Making Jam Boys live up to their name. They jam as hard as possible. And they make mon- well, the mixtape was free, so they’re not really making any money. Yet! This mixtape is essentially an announcement to the world. “We are here and we are talented.” After listening, I don’t really even think I have a choice. When they release some studio produced music, I’m now obligated to pay for it.
I have led you to green pastures. One pasture has an entrance fee ($4.99) and the other is free , but I guarantee that at either location you will have a gay old time.
(02/09/11 6:38pm)
[caption id="" align="aligncenter" width="322" caption="Promo shot of Floco Torres"][/caption]
At approximately 2:52 p.m. every Friday afternoon, I feel it. By “it” I’m referring to that campus-wide anxiety “to do.” You know what I mean. You don’t really care what you do. You just want it to either a) not be homework or b) not be regrettable (if you withdraw from a class later in the semester, go ahead and include option” c” which is regrettable homework, a sad combination of options “a” and “b”).
On January 28th, this collegiate malaise was noticeably absent from my afternoon. In its place, I felt an unfamiliar and soothing calmness. Was I high? No. Was I really high? No. I had plans.
Actually, “plans” is a bit of an understatement. I had PLANS. I was set to go to a Floco Torres concert. Who is Floco Torres? That’s your first problem.
Floco Torres is Macon’s premier emcee. I was first introduced to him during the Bearstock of 2009 and have been a fan ever since. Unlike your favorite rapper (I assume your favorite rapper is Swizz Beatz), Floco is incredibly versatile. For his latest performance, departing from the spacey, eclectic sounds of his last album Psychadelphia, Floco mostly showcased songs from his upcoming album Floco’s Modern Life, his first album with his recently formed band, “Dope as Fuck.” I’m not sure if that’s the actual name of the band, but he said it and I heard it, so there you go.
Rather than jumping right into his new material, Floco opted to team up with his DJ and start us off with some of his older works. Slyly endorsing his album by donning an insidiously clever T-shirt that said “FML” on the front and “It doesn’t mean what you think” on the back, Floco began his set with “Runaway Girl,” a dreamy, somber song in which he wittily and reluctantly dismisses a former lover.
Although for many rappers such a subject often leads to misogynistic ranting, Floco avoids this path, making it clear that despite his regret at her decision to leave him (again?) he respects her wishes and respects her too. A few songs later, he performed “I Want You to Hate It,” another of his “classics.” In this song, Floco details the paradoxical relationship he has with his haters. Although their hate is intended to derail his train, to their dismay, he ironically uses it to keep his locomotive running at full power.
His next song “Side Walk Talk,” which featured Jubee of fellow Macon group City Council, was one of his newer tracks. Although this song is also dedicated “to the haters,” the smooth collaboration of the summer jam-like instrumental with Floco’s wit (“Cuz you’re side walk talkin’, speakin so fast that we don’t hear you like an auction,/You ignore the cones and proceed without caution, not noticing the traffic jam that you are causing”) and Jubee’s faintly raspy yet dynamic vocals made the song a true treat and made it easy to forgive Floco for playing such conceptually similar songs back to back.
Following a very brief intermission in which the band set up and the members of crowd “adjusted” their blood-alcohol levels, Floco returned to the floor with his crew and from there the night ’twas but a dream. Whether they were performing rock remixes of Floco’s old hits such as “Beastie Flow” and “Hot Like the Sun”, a lyrical showcase and a catchy summer jam tune respectively, or performing newer joints such as “Give & Take” and “Bad Day at a Carnival”, they rocked. Hard.
My favorite part of their performance was the fact that the lyrics were discernible despite the fact that — well, a band was playing. If you had the misfortune of hearing Gym Class Heroes at the Bearstock of 2009, you might recall (to your acute displeasure) that the vocals were nothing more than a loud, grating murmur amidst an overly produced cacophony. It was kind of like listening to Linkin Park perform chopped and screwed covers of Glee songs in Arabic (that might be a compliment). Also, there was a guy waving a giant flag for some reason. Floco and his crew don’t do that. They give you the best of both worlds (rock/rap), not the B-sides to a Justin Bieber album (Bieb-sides?).
All that to say, look out for Floco’s Modern Life, due to drop within the next two months. Support (good) local music.
(02/09/11 6:36pm)
[caption id="attachment_660" align="aligncenter" width="228" caption="A promo shot for Little Dragon"]
[/caption]
The Masquerade is not my favorite venue. The bathrooms look like replicas of the bathrooms at Auschwitz, the bouncers are all middle-aged men with ponytails (isn’t that illegal?) and the crowd, no matter who is performing — be it hip-hop legend Pharoahe Monche or avant garde country artist Joe Nathan Tailor Swift (I made him up for the sake of this argument) — always consists of about 47 percent voluntarily dirty hipsters. All of those things greatly perturb me. Nevertheless, when I saw that Swedish electronic indie soul band Little Dragon was performing, I knew I had to suspend my qualms.
Before I could experience “the good,” I first had to lend my time to some openers. The first opener was Billygoat, a progressive and psychedelic band from Portland, Ore. I initially thought my impatience was what made them seem so unspectacular, but based on the crowd’s reception, I feel confident in saying that their music was just plain boring. My only memory of their set is a non-sequitur statement by the gnomish man to my immediate left: “I want some Waffle House.” The second opener was an Atlanta-based hip-hop funk band named The Mind Creatures. They really brought the funk, resuscitating me from my Billygoat-induced stupor. Although their set seemed to extend into infinity, I still appreciated their charisma and I definitely encourage you to check them out.
After The Mind Creatures left the stage, I checked the time. It was 10:30 p.m. and I estimated that it would be about 20 minutes before Little Dragon would take to the stage. At approximately 10:47, some seemingly random guy walked onstage, sending me into a trenchant mental rant about bands having too many damn openers. He was not an opener, though. He was actually Emcee Maseo, one third of the acclaimed hip-hop trio De La Soul and senior board member of “Feel Good Inc.”
Accordingly, I adjusted my scowl into a gleeful grin. If he was performing, I would definitely be willing to wait longer. This, however, was not the case. After a minute or two of crowd-teasing, he called Little Dragon out to the stage and the real fun began.
The set began with “A New”, a misty song featuring lulling keyboard riffs by keyboardist Håkan Wirenstrand and faint, soothing vocals by Yukimi Nagano, the band’s talented lead vocalist. On their second album, the song’s position as the first track served as a herald of their journey into the world of synthpop. At the concert, slightly sped up and featuring more perceptible percussion, it again served as a herald but this time it signaled their journey into yet another dimension of sound. This new sound was apparent in the uncharacteristically uptempo “Never Never”, a song that will debut on their recently announced upcoming album, Ritual Union. Although “Never Never” was the first of the three new songs they performed that night, it was not the most memorable. The best was certainly “Summertearz”, a soulful joint that coalesced elements of R&B, neo-soul and synthpop into a beautiful, eight-minute long audio collage. I predict that it will be the song that pushes them into the mainstream (sorry, hipsters).
This new dimension of sound was not only apparent in their new songs but also in their older works. “Forever” and “After the Rain”, songs from their soulful self-titled debut album Little Dragon, were performed at a much more allegro pace. The latter, which typically has a very mellow, self-reflective feel — as evidenced by the lyrics, “People, where have you been?/Have you been hiding/In your big houses/People, after the rain/Will your life,/Will it ever be the same?/Oh! People what will you do?/When your luck/When it turns on you?” — actually felt more powerful at this faster pace. These lyrics particularly resonated when I got back to school later that night and read articles on the State of the Union address (I had missed it to go to the concert).
They ended their set with an extended version of “Runabout”, a dance-encouraging song that beckons its listeners to “run about the streets.” After this concert that’s all I wanted to do, just so I could spread the word about this amazing band. That wouldn’t have been very conducive, though, so I decided to just write this article. Little Dragon. Check them out.