Temperature's Rising: 832
Pre-Kevin Durant and Russell Westbrook, Oklahoma City probably conjured up images of boredom for most people. While this may not be true at all, a direct product of my own experiences with terribly long roadtrips, the Oklahoma City Hip Hop scene is barely visible. 832 is working to change all that. Brothers Nawledge 405 and Solomis form the duo and are already making major headway in the underground scene. Their name comes from the address of the Oklahoma City home they grew up in that was unfortunately burned down. Most artists that attempt to gain attention do so by copying whatever the flavor of the month is. 832 pride themselves on a wholly original approach to Hip Hop, blending spoken word and variegated rhyme schemes. At once, they are like a mixture of Flatbush Zombies, Tech N9ne, and the more experimental version of Outkast. Most rappers pay their bills with flashy talk of materialism and decadence, but 832 take a refreshing, realistic approach to craft, each with their own unique and experimental flows. In 2013, the duo won the 6th Annual Street Music Award for Best Duo or Group. Capitalizing on their increasing hype, the duo have recently released a full-length album, The RAP-ture, showcasing all of their myriad styles. The RAP-ture opens with two lyrical tracks (“The Prayer” and “Under The Ground”) that perfectly encapsulate who the duo is. 832 specialize on deafening bars complete with vocal mutations. The formula works the best when the duo is operating on high-wattage beats that compliment their onslaught, such as the single “Burn.” When 832 turn up, they are like an OKC version of M.O.P., as evidenced on the romping “Ragtime.” The lyrics are marked by a special adherence to paradigm shifting, as if 832 are trying to reverse decades of stale Hip Hop-isms with their real talk. On “Pyscho Woman,” the normal ode to strippers is benched for a interesting look at the realistic interplay between men and women. While the music isn’t for everyone, it is refreshing to know that some artists are still intent on breaking away from the common mold not only in the music but the lyrics themselves. You can stream The RAP-ture below, and if you are feeling 832, make sure to track their movements on the interwebs. Website: 832.bandzoogle.com Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/beatsdemand832 Twitter: @beatsdemand832 [bandcamp width=350 height=470 album=172681078 size=large bgcol=ffffff linkcol=0687f5 tracklist=false]

Temperature's Rising: D. Green
Although it seems impossible to believe at times, there once was a time when New York produced legendary Hip Hop artists at a quicker rate than it takes Iggy Azalea to p### off a lot of people. But in the latest installment of “No S###” news, New York Hip Hop has taken a slide in the last decade or so. Furthermore, there are only a handful of East Coast artists that ascribe to the traditional New York sound. Influenced by the likes of Big Daddy Kane, Big Pun, Big L, Mase, Biggie Smalls, Jay-Z and Jadakiss, D. Green is less interested in satiating ever-fleeting mainstream tastes than using music as an honest expression of his worldview. According to D. Green, starting his rhyme career at the tender age of 11, music was a way to temporarily escape the harsh realities of his South Bronx upbringing. D. Green has steadily been building a name for himself in the last few years. His two part mixtape series, Go Green Or Go Home, first gave fans a taste of what the emcee was capable of, following that venture with the raw, DJ Lantern-hosted album Top Floor Mind State/Ground Floor Humility. With the recent success of the East Coast representatives like A$AP Mob, Action Bronson, and Joey Bada$$, D. Green is preparing to make a splash in the industry with his new EP F.E.W. According to D. Green, the project is more personal than any of his previous projects: “This is For The F.E.W. Just a few songs, telling you my story in a few different ways. This EP is only For the F.E.W. The few who have truly enjoyed my music and my efforts as an artist. The few who are just getting acquainted with me, my music and want to see where I am going to take it. The few who are looking for something a little different in Hip Hop, if only for a few minutes. This is For The F.E.W. The #FansEveryWhere. No matter how many or how little, this is for you and I hope you enjoy.” The EP opens with the piano-laden “FansEveryWhere,” as D. Green meticulously outlines his mindstate: “It’s hard for me not to partake in the repetition/ There’s more to life than cars, poppin’ bottles and f#####’ women.” For the majority of the project D. Green lets his “realness over everything” approach to music bleed through, like on the up-tempo, bar-heavy heatrock, “Still.” On “Like This” he delves into the perks of monogamy rather than adhering to the tired route of bragging about his sexual conquests. By the end of the tape, D. Green affirms that he is one of the few emcees that puts a high premium on authenticity. Stay tuned for the release of F.E.W. and if you are feeling D. Green’s music, make sure to track his movements on the interwebs. Website: www.dgreenmusic.com Twitter: @mynameisdgreen Instagram: @mynameisdgreen

Temperature's Rising: Klassik
In Milwaukee, a great foulness impregnates the air at all times, a direct cause of the all the s#### that nobody gives about it. But defying the odds, newcomer Klassik is steadily putting Wisconsin Hip Hop on the map. Over the last few years he has created a lot of buzz for himself, deemed the 2014 Top 10 Wisconsin Artist to Watch by JSOnline, 2013 WAMI Hip Hop Artist of the Year by Link, and 2012 Radio Milwaukee Artist of the Year. Klassik has already opened for the likes of Kendrick Lamar, Ludacris, and Talib Kweli just to name a few. With his eccentric blend of neo-soul and Hip Hop, Klassik sounds like a mix of Childish Gambino and Frank Ocean. Bridging an eclectic array of diverse styles, Klassik’s Spring EP is a thematically layered ode to everyone’s favorite season. The main appeal in Klassik’s approach is how charismatic he is on the mic. At all times he dons the demeanor of an artist genuinely passionate about the music rather than someone looking for a check. Klassik proves as much on “Go Far,” the EP’s opener. The track is a tale of struggle as well as triumph, with the emcee giving brief autobiographical sketches about what caused him to get into music in the first place. Klassik’s harmonizing adds a further level of pathos than the bars themselves. “Know It All” is a bouncy, multi-tempo jaunt that recalls The Black Eyed Peas in the pre-Fergie days. On “Otha Fish,” Klassik flips a classic Pharcyde jam for an instrumental that succinctly captures the essence of the brief EP. You can check out the Spring EP below, and if you are feeling it, make sure to track his movements on the interwebs. Twitter: https://twitter.com/IAMKLASSIK YouTube: http://www.youtube.com/user/klassik89 Website: http://iamklassik.com/ [bandcamp width=350 height=470 album=287665596 size=large bgcol=ffffff linkcol=0687f5 tracklist=false]

Can Iggy Azalea Kick It?
Let me preface this article by emphatically stating that I am the biggest Q-Tip and Tribe fan on the planet hands down. I could go on and on about how I think the few albums Tribe crafted in my mind surpass the greatest achievements of The Beatles, David Bowie, etc. Midnight Maurauders, in my humble opinion, is the definition of absolute perfection on wax. I even own a physical copy of The Love Movement. But in regards to Iggy Azalea, my main man Tip is buggin’ out. By now, I’m sure you’ve combed through Tip’s lengthy tweeting session to Iggy, but here is a snippet: “U may ask why … Well once you are born black your existence I believe is joined with socio-political epitaph and philos based on the tangled and treacherous history SLAVERY alone this is the case it never leaves our conversation… Ever. WeAther in our universities our dinner tables our studios or jail cells… the effects still resononates with us. It hurts… We get emotional and angry and melancholy… did u know president Clinton was the ONLY PRESIDENT to apologize for it? did u know that remnants of slavery exist today thru white privilege? When certain “niceties” r extended your way because of how u look? Isn’t that crazy?” Q-Tip did go on to say that he respects Iggy and believes she should be allowed to make the music she feels comfortable making, but at the end of the day I ultimately feel that his criticisms are being issued at the wrong person. I don’t believe Azealia Banks was on a social crusade to save the culture when she called out Iggy, ultimately commencing this whole nonsensical mess, but more about that later. Nicki Minaj currently has a song on the radio called “Only.” To my knowledge, there is not a grand attack against her as far as misrepresenting the genre goes. Possibly, Nicki’s version U-N-I-T-Y is the shared-level of thirst both Drake and Lil Wayne have in regards to f###### her. Is Nicki aware of MC Lyte, Bahamadia, Queen Latifah, and a slew of other female artists that paved the way for her so that we could enjoy the “Anaconda” video in the 21st century in its glorious entirety? Regardless of whether Nicki knows her origins or not, the fact that these questions are not being asked of her is the problem. Why is she immune to the same criticism? First off, I have no ties with Iggy Azalea (unfortunately). A lot of people are under the misguided impression that artists and journalists work hand-in-hand together. The exact opposite is true in fact. In short, they hate us, especially when artists we love release wack material and get criticized for pointing out the wackness. For instance, I like the rest of the world banged the s### out of Kush & OJ, but bashed my head against the wall when I heard “Roll Up” for the first time. In short, journalism is a thankless job, and only the crazy ones get involved in the first place. But I digress. The crimes being issued at Iggy aren’t really crimes at all. When a new Hip-Hop artist appears on the scene, nobody’s initial reaction is to question whether or not they know their history. I won’t name specific names, but I doubt most of the artists (the black ones) dominating the radio right now probably think Erick Sermon is some television evangelist who sells overpriced self-help books. Iggy is being targeted because she is an Australian white girl– period. It’s akin to the f##### up citizenship policy of ours. Regardless of the fact that the names of James Madison, Alexander Hamilton, and even the Vice President of the United States are elusive facts to most Americans populating the streets, immigrants that arrive in this country are supposed to learn this information before they become citizens. Metaphorically, this is exactly what the Hip-Hop world is doing to Iggy, and it’s 100% unfair. Hip-Hop has come a long way and is by far the most popular genre on the planet today. Recent releases by Katy Perry and Lady Gaga featured Hip-Hop artists Juicy J and Too $hort, respectively. Even former Disney princess Miley Cyrus is busy perfecting her twerking technique. It’s almost comical to listen to Ice Cube’s lamentation of radio stations refusing to play Hip-Hop on his song “Turn Off The Radio” in retrospect. The genre will always be copyrighted by African Americans, but to limit others from participating in the genre is ass backwards, and defeats the purpose altogether. In terms of the actual music, Hip-Hop is a blend of variegated musical genres re-purposed for fresh sounds (A Tribe Called Quest anyone?). Hip-Hop has always been about inviting people to the party, regardless of skin tone or origin. By all indications, Iggy has a genuine love for Hip-Hop. Her comeuppance has been well-documented, but surprisingly, it took a lot more than a big booty and a T.I. co-sign to get her to her current state. Regardless of whether you appreciate her music or not, she should not be accused of raping the culture when all her actions point to the contrary. There is not one single artist in the game right now that I couldn’t quickly rifle off a criticism in terms of them damaging the culture. Iggy should be able to do what she loves without having to memorize 2pac’s “Oldschool,” because let’s face it, neither have a lot of the individuals populating the current generation. “White chick on that Pac s### My passion was ironic And my dreams were uncommon Guess I gone crazy, first deal changed me Robbed blind, basically raped me Ran through the b####### like a Matador Just made me madder and adamant to go at em And even the score So, I went harder Studied Tha Carters till a deal was offered Slept cold on the floor recording At 4 in the morning and now I’m passing the bar like a lawyer […]

The Aftermath of "Control"
I’m usually homeboys with the same n##### I’m rhymin with But this is hip hop and them n##### should know what time it is And that goes for Jermaine Cole, Big KRIT, Wale Pusha T, Meek Mill, A$AP Rocky, Drake Big Sean, Jay electron’, Tyler, Mac Miller I got love for you all but I’m tryna murder you n##### Tryna make sure your core fans never heard of you n##### They don’t wanna hear not one more noun or verb from u n##### What is competition? I’m tryna raise the bar high Who tryna jump and get it? You better off tryna skydive Out the exit window of 5 G5’s with 5 grams With your grandad as the pilot he drunk as f### tryna land With the hand full of arthritis and popping prosthetic leg Bumpin Pac in the cockpit so the s### that pops in his head Is an option of violence, someone heard the stewardess said That your parachute is a latex condom hooked to a dread After being subjected to an social media onslaught to the tune of billions of tweets about Kendrick’s so-called “epic” verse on Big Sean’s “Control,” I immediately assumed the role of dissenter. Foolishly, I remained the lone Elmer Fudd-looking old man on the bench doubting the constant chirping in my ear. Hypebeasts, in their very nature, glorify the s### out of something until it becomes s#####. Usually I’m on the ball when it comes to new music, but I remained a grumpy outcast until I decided to finally listen. Alas, I was wrong for doubting the internet. If you have two functioning ears, there is no room for subjective opinion here; Kendrick Lamar spit one of the greatest verses of all time in 2013. There are just too many ideological complexities and stunning metaphors abounding in Kendrick’s verse to do it proper justice in a quick blog post, but the most stunning thing of all about Kendrick’s verse is what he says during his verse’s finale, which I use as a euphemism here to stand in the place of a more accurate description like the slaughtering you bestow on your opponent in the TKO stage during those drunken nights playing Mortal Combat. I’m not sure if Kendrick heard the thundering call-to-arms while reciting his verse, but Kendrick literally finished them. Clocking in at well over the seven minute mark, “Control” is somewhat of a surprising release from Big Sean for a number of reasons. First, the song is not about controlling… yo hoes, or even letting them talk to you crazy. Second, the structural DNA of the song retains very little traces of the tracks Sean has infiltrated the airwaves with in the past, which were mainly geared toward money, chardonnay, and ass ass ass (repeat 20x). However, Sean’s Detroit mixtape reminded early devotees that the G.O.O.D. music MC still retained a knack for lyricism, and could even get damn near conscious and meaningful when he wanted to. Providing the opening for “Control,” Sean’s verse is impressive on its own, and if it wasn’t for that holy-f### of a verse by Kendrick, folks would have been busily stuffing their Twitter feeds with delusional comparisons to Jay-Z just off the strength of his lyrics. More than anything though, Sean’s gift is ironically his control, no pun intended. The rapper has some of the most versatile bag of tricks when it comes to flow, and he is able to (pause) eject it at will. But as you well know by now, Big Sean and Jay Electronica impressive wordplay were drowned out by the hype surrounding Kendrick’s. In a world predating the Ebola crisis, hospitals across the nation scrambled to find answers to curb the recent pandemic of feelings. Many were appalled that Kendrick would dare disrupt this new p####-laden era of good feelings by name-dropping emcees in the hopes that competition would be restored once again. No baby mama jokes. No that’s why I f##### you b#### you fat m############. Just a call to arms from some of the emcees elite talent to step up to the plate. In the last decade, there has never been a more polarizing singular recording. If you don’t believe me (aka you’ve never experienced social media) type in “_______ responds to Kendrick Lamar’s verse on Youtube. Unlike other genres, Hip-hop has long been a battle for supremacy. It’s rare to envision a world where Mick Jagger of The Rolling Stones and Roger Daltrey of The Who go toe-to-toe about who really dominates the arena of prancing on stage while donning c###-shrinking pants. When artists of other genres face off, it typically revolves around personal issues rather than a clairvoyant claim that said artist in question will be forever regarded as the best to ever do it. Taylor Swift has made a career by “controlling” a lot of her ex-boyfriends, but these suicide-inducing pop songs are the result of puppy lovey-dovey emotional strife. A better example is The Beatles. In the aftermath of the band’s bitter breakup in 1970, Paul McCartney and John Lennon engaged in a subliminal war on wax. McCartney (doing his best Lennon impersonation) and The Wings released “Let Me Roll It” in response. (As much as I’d love to think Paul McCartney is sitting somewhere on a plush sofa chair reading Allhiphop as part of his regular reading material, the thought that he would probably sue for this post scares the s### out of me. No disrespect Paul, my bank account is far from yours. Please leave me and crumbs to be). This competitive drive to wear a metaphorical crown is just one of many unique features that make the genre so captivating. As Kendrick alludes to, competition makes for better music. Take some of the most famous battles in hip-hop history. Nas and Jay-Z. Before Nas got called out by Jay, he was making horrendous songs with Ginuwine. He answered doubters by released “Ether,” and ultimately Stillmatic, two of the greatest additions to the […]

CyHi Da Prynce- Black Hystori Project Revisited
This is death of the trap If you sleepin’ on me, gon’ enjoy the rest of your nap I’m tired hearin’ fake n##### and they regular raps They right, I guess there ain’t no real leaders left on the map Not even the most Talib of the Kwelis can craft an album (or even mixtape, as these mediums become increasingly interchangeable as time goes on) these days without adhering to some basic formula. The hype, #turndownforwhat song. The song for the ladies. The these-bars-are-proof-that-I-rap-better-than-you or my-life-is-a-lot-better-than-yours song. And so on and so forth. The artists can’t really be blamed, because the ugly truth is that art is controlled by corporate executives that couldn’t tell a Van Gogh from a 4th grader’s Crayola doodle. Or a Basquiat. “Ask me if I’m on the radio, I’m prolly not But I don’t do it for the radio I do this s### for Basquiat” Cyhi Da Prynce’s camp is probably frustrated. The frustration has nothing to do with any sort of expected career trajectory, but falls squarely solely on my shoulders. I reached out to his camp about an interview in which they accepted, but the plans fell through due to scheduling conflicts on both sides. Obviously, I’m appalled that I wasn’t able to make it work, but I have none other than myself to blame. So appalled. Speaking of that, I first heard CyHi on Kanye West’s “So Appalled” track from My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy. Despite rhyming alongside Ye, Push, and Jay, CyHi had the best verse on the entire song. I’ve been a fan since. Rare is it nowadays that an artist can create music with both substance and appeal. “How you a gangsta but on Instagram emoji-ing? In America, n##### dying over p#### In the Middle East, they dying over petroleum” “The last thing I’m tryna be is fresh when the feds is watching No disrespect to my n#### Chainz But, when the feds really watching, that s###’ll wreck ya brain” But even though I was a fan, I was floored by his latest project. Although it went largely under the radar, CyHi Da Prynce released a brilliant mixtape this year entitled Black Hystori. According to CyHi, the tape came about after his newphew was assigned to write a black history essay and didn’t know who to write about. In an interview with Complex, CyHi disclosed the full story: My newphew wanted to do a black history project on me, and his teachers told him I wasn’t that monumental or that important to do a black history project on…so I said ‘ok,’ I’mma just do my own black history project. I thank the said misguided teacher, because the end project was 75% of my listening material for 2014. CyHi, the G.O.O.D. label mate and sometimes Kanye ghostwriter (instrumental in the Yeezus sessions) felt that he should write about himself as already mentioned, but the project is much more than a biographical sketch. If I would have managed to get the CyHi interview in time, I would’ve asked “what the hell were you thinking releasing this as a mixtape instead of an album?” He has yet to release an actual studio album, but all of that is for the birds. With Black Hystori, we have an amazing project in our grasp. Our stomachs are fat with turkey, and there is good music to listen to. We should be thankful. Due to recent events affecting the black community, CyHi’s Black Hystori was released with perfect timing. On the tape, CyHi virtually expands the depth of African American culture, speaking frankly about various issues and giving credit to the hereos of yesteryear. But the songs are not along the lines of those boring black history lectures you heard during grade school. Cyhi uses Huey as a metaphorical image to convey how real he is compared to the other posers in the game. For instance, on “Huey,” referring to the late black activist Huey Newton: “I make music for the world You make music for a stripper b####.” Personally, the most gripping aspect of the tape is how CyHi criticizes contemporary black culture without coming across as some aspiring professor emeritus-type rapper who is the president of the National Backpacker Association of Excellence. On “Is It Me,” CyHi examines the degree to which rappers are willing to fake details of their lives to come across more street to their audience. CyHi speaks as a man who has extensive knowledge of the things many rappers scribbled on their notepad and created their life, and he has no qualms about calling them on their b#######. But CyHi’s approach is more Native Tongues pre-Lil Wayne than anything– tough love interspersed with motivational moments. On the song “Be Great” he encourages black men to g## up, g## out, and g## something. On “Mandela,” he takes the approach of a commander attempting to rally his troops to make necessary changes. “Don’t get me wrong my n####, I endorse the streets But you won’t support your kids, but go support the freaks Last night at the club you blew like a quarter key But when the feds come you can barely pay your lawyer fees?” “Is it really me, cause I ain’t really feelin’ these New rap n#####, pardon my siliquoys But honesty is what we really need Ran with a crew of cap peelers, but that wasn’t really me” Although it seems to change depending on what mood I’m in, the song I find myself coming back to the most is “Barry White.” Drugs and hip-hop seem to be synonymous these days, as many artists glorify the lifestyle that was birthed in the Ronald Reagan era. On “Barry White,” Cyhi explores the crack epidemic that literally destroyed families in the 80s and 90s, and the reverberations are still felt to this day. Despite cold hard facts that the CIA under Ronald Regan’s incumbency was responsible for bringing the drug into black communities, Regan is still regarded as the pinnacle […]

Murder To Excellence: The Saga Of Michael Brown Through A Hip-Hop Lens
HOW A SENSELESS MURDER IS SPARKING A FIRE WITHIN HIP HOP

Through The Past Darkly: Eminem's Marshall Mather's LP
The pieces most vital to the lifeblood of culture hardly ever get their fair share of credit when history is discussed. Sure, civil wars, technological inventions and diplomats are important, but the arts have a strong influence on the course of history, whether you choose to believe it or not. Anything one finds valuable or depraved about our generation can take solace in the fact that it all started with Em. Whether you were white, black, yellow, Puerto Rican or Haitan, you had the album. I remember sitting in class, on a dry, boring day sitting in Ms. Stevens (of course her name wasn’t Ms. Stevens, but I can’t really remember her name, as it was a long time ago and many drinks have been consumed since then) 5th grade Social Studies class at Angier Elementary. George Watson (same thing) soon spoke the words that would change my life for better or worse (probably worse). “I just bought the new Eminem album.” He showed me the album case. Sooner or later, everyone had the album. As a naive adolescent, grasping at strings of knowledge, naturally I had a slew of questions that needed answers: What is VD? What’s a c###? At what time, approximately, am I officially allowed to slap b######? Thank God that all of these questions were soon revealed to me, and I have Em to thank for that. 2. Kill You It’s weird to me now, but when first I heard Em say “Imma be another rapper dead for poppin’ off at the mouth at s### I shouldn’t of said,” I really believed it. I figured there was no way a person could get away with saying this type of stuff, and consequences must surely be in the foreseeable future. Fortunately Em is still alive, but when “Kill You” was first released, it commenced a tidal wave of controversy. In 2000, Em was even petitioned by Ontario attorney general Jim Flaherty to ban the rapper from performing a scheduled concert in Toronto and ultimately ban him from access to enter Canadian border lines. Citing “Kill You” as the main source, Flaherty stated: “I personally don’t want anyone coming to Canada who will come here and advocate violence against women.” After a much heated debate between Canadian legislators and free speech advocates, Em was granted access to the country and the right to perform. But the controversy didn’t end there. Writing for The Journal of Criminal Justice and Popular Culture, Edward G. Armstrong investigated the modern popularity of Gangsta Rap, and cited Eminem as the main culprit: “Eminem’s The Marshall Mathers LP became the fastest selling rap album of all time. Violent and misogynist lyrics are found in eleven of the album’s fourteen songs. Worse still, nine of the eleven songs depict killing women, with drowning becoming a new modus operandi. Comparing the lyric content of gangsta rap music’s foundational period with that of Eminem shows the following: In terms of violent and misogynist lyrics, gangsta rap music (1987-1993) scores a 22 percent while Eminem (2000) reaches 78 percent.” Aside from “Kim,” “Kill You” is Eminem’s most offensive song, especially with lyrics like: Put your hands down b####, I ain’t gonna shoot you I’ma pull YOU to this bullet, and put it through you Shut up s###, you’re causing too much chaos Just bend over and take it like a s###, OK Ma? “Oh, now he’s raping his own mother, abusing a w####, snorting coke, and we gave him the Rolling Stone cover?” Eminem- Kill You With all that said, it’s probably one of my favorite songs on the album. S###, what does that say about me? 3. Stan Later on in life, during my unfortunate path as English major, I would encounter much more tragic stories than this. However, as a ten year old, Em’s story of an obsessive fan named Stan, a playful change on the word “fan,” resonated with me in a strong way. Stan is dangerously obsessed with Em, so much to the point where he is willing to cut his wrists in a deranged attempt to be closer to the rapper. Things take a turn for the worse when Em, failing to respond to Stan’s fan letters in speedy fashion, he locks his pregnant wife in a trunk a proceeds to drive over a bridge. In the first three verses Em plays the role of Stan, only to address to Stan as himself in the last verse: I’m sorry I didn’t see you at the show, I must’ve missed you Don’t think I did that s### intentionally just to diss you But what’s this **** you said about you like to cut your wrists too? I say that s### just clownin’ dog, Come on, how f##### up is you? You got some issues Stan, I think you need some counseling To help your *** from bouncing off the walls when you get down some And what’s this s### about us meant to be together? That type of s### will make me not want us to meet each other Eminem “Stan” Clearly the story described in “Stan” is extreme, but it does shed light on a troubling issue: when fans mistake entertainers as their friends or long lost relatives. Sampling Dido’s “Thank You,” the song would eventually go on to win a Grammy. At the 2001 Grammy Awards, Elton John (possibly the most famous homosexual man in the world, thereby temporarily silencing the many critics of Em’s supposed homophobia) performed the song with Eminem in one of the most memorable music moments in music history. Aside from “Drug Ballad,” “Stan” is my favorite Eminem track. 4. Paul (Skit) “Em what’s going on, it’s Paul, uh…Dre gave me a copy, of the new album, and, I just…(sighs) f### it.” 5. Who Knew On much of the album, Eminem not only spends a lot time inciting criticism, but also defending himself. “Who Knew” is entirely made up of such contrast, with Em directly addressing the critics […]
Kissin' Pink
By all indications, tonight will be a good one for Trey Barclay. Not only did he “rape” his organic chemistry exam, but he finally secured the phone number of his classmate, who, according to Trey, is one “bad b####.” Thankfully, Trey isn’t plotting the same sort of strategy he used with his exam, but rather a casual outing for drinks at Buffalo Wild Wings during the midweek. Plus, it’s hump-day, which of course is the precursor to Thursday, or what some folks refer to fondly as direct deposit eve. Trey’s dose of good fortune is a refreshing reminder that sometimes the various trials of young adulthood are powerless in halting good times. Currently, Trey’s entire posture resembles that of a man at ease, completely satisfied with life. Even as Trey sits on his plush couch with legs propped on his coffee table, watching Iron Man 2, his eyes twinkle with self-identification. Trey sees himself as the red and gold super-hero protagonist, beating the s### out of his enemies while mingling with beautiful women in the process, sitting on giant donuts while conversing with Samuel Jackson. It be like that sometimes, as the saying goes. Seducing the ever-fleeting goddess of good fortune is no easy feat, and when victorious, one wants to prolong such ecstasies. Because Iron Man 2 is showing on FX, there are more than plenty commercial breaks. During one such break, Trey saunters over to his fridge and takes out bottle filled to the brim with an airy pink liquid. He takes a sip, smiles, and walks back to his couch. By the look in his eyes, it seems that he has somehow defied all logic, and elongated not only his delight, but his day as well. 30 years ago, Robert Earl Davis Jr. had similar intentions of time manipulation. The son of a long haul- truck driver, Robert dreamed of following in his father’s footsteps as a young boy. The allure of the pristine Texas landscape floating in the rear-view during lengthy trips produced idyllic images in his youthful mental database, and the sense of leisure produced from winding through I-10 and I-45 while sitting passenger-side seemed to have no rival in the world. Of course, the foundations of youth are whimsical at best, and passions are subject to dissolve, especially via impressionistic mediums, like film. In 1984, a film entitled Breakin about the rise of the underground djing and breakdancing movement occurring in Southern California was released. Upon viewing the film, Robert’s grand truck dreams vanished in the light of musical pipe dreams. He realized that the turntable had a celestial aura about it, allowing a DJ (Disc Jockey) the ability to manipulate the sound of recordings based off the strategic placement of his or her fingers, a process known as “scratching”. With scratching, gifted DJs were able to dramatically alter the genetic makeup of a track, improving upon it by honing in on special moments and highlighting them through looped repetitions As Robert grew, so did his appreciation of the DJ, which in his teens could easily classify as mythological. Breaking and entering into house-parties and clubs widened his scope of the divine powers of the DJ. Robert quickly learned that with meticulous timing, ambidextrous hands, and an ear to the pulse of the crowd, a DJ controlled the vitals of every person in the room. He was a god. But Robert’s musical tastes extended far beyond just scratching. Both music adorers themselves, his parents provided him with a plenitude of vinyl treasures around the household. Marvin Gaye. Sam Cooke. The Isley Brothers. An avid of fan classical music, Robert studied the piano for seven long teenage years, eventually achieving teenage prodigy status. However, the call of the scratch eventually drowned out the sonatas of Chopin, and he took up the art of DJing seriously in the late 80’s. At first, Robert mixed whatever records were at his disposal, such as the Johnny Taylor and B.B. King pieces of his mother’s collection. But when the thrill was gone from those experiments, Robert began experimenting with his own unique brand of mixing in 1990. As Michael Jordan was forever changing the face of basketball, Robert was changing the face of music by slowing down tracks, bridging out the scales, and chopping them. Initially, his off-brand of stylizing only lent itself to requests from friends, but as word spread, Robert soon had customers from all across Texas eager to purchase his slowed-down mixes of their favorite songs. The style of mix quickly became known in the South as “Chopped and Screwed,” and from then on Robert Earl Davis Jr. was forever transformed into DJ Screw. As anyone who has spent a significant amount of time in the American South knows, the territory is chock-full of stubborn do-it-yourselfers. No problem or dilemma is too intimidating for the average Southerner, as most classify as unofficial Macgyvers, willing and able to disentangle problems with whatever means are at their disposal. These means are often scarce, as, historically, many of the region’s residents come from poor upbringings. This same sort of predilection also lends itself to less noble endeavors, such as when poor Blacks in the early 70’s discovered that when mixed with promethazine, codeine-laced cough syrup produced a substantial, inexpensive high that seemed to slow down one’s perception of time. For the next two decades, the then nameless concoction was the best-kept secret in the South, with people mostly mixing it in with “light” carbonated drinks, like ginger ale or Sprite. It would soon be known to the world by a multitude of names, but most commonly referred to as “lean”, “sizzurp”, or “purple drank.” In the early 90’s, when hip-hop was making a commercial name for itself on the two coasts, Southern residents longed to carve out and define their own sense of identity and culture as it pertained to hip-hop. The g-funk rhythms of the West wouldn’t quite do, neither would the street peddler raps of […]
What Every Successful Person Needs To Know About Juicy J, And How You Too Can Stay Trippy For Life
Steven Paul Jobs was able to revolutionize the world by insisting on a seamless, symbiotic relationship between art and technology. In order to invest in the philosophy, one must “think differently,” a slogan used to this day to market not only Apple products but the entire Apple philosophy. Influenced by the German Bauhaus school of thought in which artistic excellence is achieved through simplicity and understated design, Jobs (and the actual engineers who made the products) ushered in a wave of stylish products that were simple-looking yet entrancing; the iMac, the ipod, the iphone, etc. For all of his neurotic brilliance, it’s no secret that Jobs was a p####, which is why even in his death he was directly responsible for one of the most momentous occasions in my personal life this past year. I love my iphone, but sometimes Jobs’ tiny invention does not mesh well with my large fingers. Long story short, while listening to Tegan and Sara on Spotify mobile, a blunder involving the phalanges almost resulted in me accidentally “sharing” the track on Facebook. Luckily I was able to prevent the upload from happening, but nonetheless, the incident had the potential to become a mega public relations massacre for #kellmill. Undoubtedly questions would arise in the ensuing press conference, such as why is a straight black man listening to Teagan and Sara in the first place? Even worse, why does he feel compelled to go so far as to share it publicly? Completely Bill-Clintoned, I’d have no choice but to admit that yes, for an extended period of time “Closer” was a personal favorite of mine. Later inquiries would reveal even further reason for embarrassment, such as the fact that I sang the song approximately one billion times in collective shower visits, and furthermore, there is actually an extensive collection of Tegan and Sara songs in my library. I was a fool, walking with the ghost of a guilty conscience. What would the Allhiphop.com shareholders think if this information went public? The fall into degeneracy is usually quick. Not long after I published “Wonderwall,” an article defending Miley Cyrus’ transition into hip-hop sensibilities, I knew dark sectors were on the horizon. Around that time I discovered a song entitled “23″ by MikeWillMadeIt featuring Miley, Wiz Khalifa, and Juicy J. At first I thought the song atrocious, a clear jokes-on-you! in the vein of Weird Al Yankovic. Not until I watched the video did I become a fan of the song, and this is not entirely because a fully-developed Miley is 99.9 % naked while twerking and wearing Air Jordan sneakers (if you’ve spent even a millisecond on my personal blog, you will understand immediately why I strongly support all of these things). In the video, the respective artists are completely serious and couldn’t give a flying 747 f### about the public reaction. Like Steve Jobs founding Apple in his garage, this was a climatic intellectual awakening for me. Better yet, it was more like the apple that fell off a tree and hit Issac Newton in the head. Juicy J doesn’t care one iota about what people think of him, and for that, he is respected by everyone. It occurred to me in that moment that Juicy J would never fret about his music listening habits, or anything else for that matter. Suddenly, I understood the laws of motion, and more importantly, I understood that Juicy J had all the answers to the world’s problems. Immediately after this revelation I burned all of the literature on my bookshelf Fahrenheit 451 style. It was time to think differently. At first, the recognition that Juicy J held all the keys to life’s obstacles was frightening to say the least. It’s the same sensation you’d feel if while sober you spotted Yoda just chilling under a tree as you walked to your apartment. As shocking as this scenario would be, you wouldn’t run or scream. Instead, you would absorb as much knowledge as you could from the little green creature. By the way, if these sentiments cause you to rofl, it’s an indication that you are yet immersed in Trippy wisdom, a dangerous disposition to maintain. Do some soul searching and proceed. We live in a truly great time, but unfortunately, most universities in the U.S. haven’t fully caught on to the societal innovations manifesting all around us. To most professors the answers to life’s greatest questions lie in the teachings of dead philosophers and writers. If you’ve never had the misfortune of having Nietzsche’sBirth of Tragedy slapped across your face with a 8-10 page essay to boot, count yourself one of the lucky ones. Why are we supposed to care or pretend to care about what Nietzsche had to say? For all of his brilliance, Nietzsche spent his last days screaming gibberish at horses in the street. If Juicy J ever succumbed to such madness, he’d probably make it look cool as hell. I suggest the next time you see someone at Starbucks reading a book by Nietzsche, slap the Vanilla Chai Latte out of their hand, politely tell them to slob on your knob, and slide them a copy of Juicy J’s album, Stay Trippy. Trust me, you will doing them a tremendous service. “She wanna be my main chick, I was thinking different Clap that ass, light a blunt, baby, let’s get ig’nant” Juicy J ain’t Denzel, but he knows he’s a star. That’s straight from the horses mouth (no Nietzsche). Juicy’s resolute belief in himself gives him the freedom to present an uncensored version of himself to the world without even the faintest sense of worry as to how it will come across to others. Let me give you a quick example. Egg-nog is an acquired taste, but ratchet p#### is universally frowned upon by males and females alike. In fact, gynecologists make quite the living preventing ratchetness in the v#####. But Juicy J is unapologetic in his inability to deny ratchet p####. In fact, he’s proud. My […]