Billed as the final studio album of Jay Z, 13 years and 5 albums later, any retrospective of the The Black Album simply has to be examined through the lens of this clever marketing ploy.
Writing in 2017 as a member of a sophisticated consumer public who has lived through countless faux-John Farnham retirements, it’s difficult to imagine that people in 2003 genuinely believed that this would be Hova’s last album.
However both the public and critics alike might be forgiven for falling for such an obvious sales tactic given the seeming sincerity of the gesture. The album is littered with misty-eyed references to retirement and the closing chapter of the Jay Z story. On December 4th Jay Z tells his audience they may not truly know what they’ve got till it’s gone – “maybe you’ll love me when I fade to black.” The hook in Moment of Clarity cleverly links the titles of Jay Z’s prodigious body of work, noting his “Blueprint beginning to that Black Album ending.” The strangely melancholic Allure shows a rare vulnerability in the typically braggadocios MC. Hov is practically teary-eyed when he listlessly sighs “shit, I know how this move ends, still I play, the starring role in Hovita’s Way.”
In fact, many contemporary critics noted that whether or not The Black Album really was Jay Z’s final album was irrelevant. Regardless, the album is thematically fixated with the concept of closure and resolution. From the unique perspective of looking back on his career, Jay Z is magnanimous, honest and raw. Jay Z has always been hip-hop’s Philosopher-King, but the Black Album comes from a place of true enlightenment. The pettiness that is the sad staple of all gangsta rap is stripped bare here. Previously the mastermind of gold standard diss track The Takeover, a lofty Hova instead dismisses his nameless competitors on Dirt off Your Shoulder and What More Can I Say? The end of Jay Z’s career gives him a unique ‘Moment of Clarity’ – no longer the embittered hustler, Jay Z is finally able to forgive his heroin addict father; “save a place in heaven till the next time we meet forever.”
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Oz_-VaTHpc8
Upon the release of The Black Album in 2003, you could practically hear the cacophony of critics, a mournful lament that not only did it “show Jay Z at his very best, it showed that he was getting even better.” Only now are we beginning to confront the concept of the ageing hip-hop Titan, what with most of the genre’s living heroes pushing 40 or more. Once the voice of disaffected youth the world over, the cartoonish voices Eminem had performed for decades felt strangely feeble on The Marshall Mathers LP 2. In the long road to completing Tha Carter V, Lil Wayne has been beleaguered with health scares and political controversy. Yasiin Bey (Mos Def) just released what Pitchfork described as “by far the worst thing he’s ever released.” Biggie and Tupac are legendary because they died young, before they had a chance to age, wane in skill, and generally make poor career choices. People might think very differently if in 2016 a 400 pound Biggie Smalls was putting out his 9th studio album out via Mailchimp with three Skrillex features and several accompanying apps.
Hip-hop is a culture deeply connected with bravado, dissidence and youth. It’s rare for a rapper to choose to make a final album – the marketplace will generally make that decision for you (think: 50 Cent). The Black Album is rare in that it allows Jay Z to go out on his own terms, guns blazing. The worlds of Coppola and Scorsese are littered with canny gangsters who have no choice but to pull off one last perfect heist before they abandon the life of crime for good. Of course, the big grab is always challenging, dangerous and in the end, always elegantly executed. There’s little surprise that Jay Z, the Frank Lucas of rap, also wanted his final score to be risky yet flawless. Jay Z chooses to go out with a bang, and not with a whimper. He’s quitting while he’s ahead: “Jay’s status appears to be at an all-time high,” he wheezes on the Roots-esque live jam Encore, “the perfect time to say goodbye.”
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nlYCq5zpCOI
Gangsta rap is a genre that I love so dearly that it has seeped into me on a molecular level. Nonetheless, it still never fails to appal me for its mind-blowing repetitiveness. While underground rappers have experimented with narratives and perspectives, hip-hop on the whole is only ever concerned with two things – rising from poverty and then living a lifestyle of sickening decadence. It is without doubt the most overplayed theme in all kinds of music ever – possibly even more than the theme of falling in love. But nobody does this simple trick better than Jay Z. Of course, the most brilliant thing about the ‘last album’ angle is that it makes this repetition completely justifiable. This is a retrospective. A recap on his life and career. And any kind of reflection is inherently going to involve a discussion of how he rose from poverty to sickening decadence. The Black Album is a 55-minute flashback episode. Like a home movie, it has a nostalgic feel to it. And Jay Z is right. We will miss him when he’s gone. Whilst it might be repetitive, let’s enjoy this brief replay, because there truly may never be anything better again.
Although an actual sequel to Jay Z’s canonical The Blueprint was released as early as 2002, The Black Album is its true successor in every sense. The Black Album breaks few barriers, instead preserving the status quo set by Jay Z himself only 2 years before. But I’ve misspoken. Because The Blueprint is so much more than just the ‘status quo,’ it is a 15-track offering that epitomises and encapsulates the entire genre; the benchmark, the apex, and the high-watermark of rap. Should fans be satisfied with such obvious repetition?
It’s an obstacle that Kendrick Lamar similarly encountered in 2012. What do you do when your unofficial bootleg EP is so perfect, that it is bound to eclipse anything that you could possibly create with a record label, money and a team of producers behind you? The Interscope-produced Good Kid, m.A.A.d City is largely a regurgitation of the independent Section 80. But this was so much more than cheap imitation. Hip-hop was left with two masterful cuts from the same cloth. Like Elmyr de Hory, sometimes there is greater skill in executing a perfect replica than a weak original.
If The Blueprint was not broken, than Jay Z did not try to fix it with The Black Album. And if you have the formula, the recipe, the very blueprint for perfection in your hands – than why not recreate it time and time again?
The Black Album follows the formula set by The Blueprint to its very step. Jay Z’s army of producers carefully copy the crisp bold sound that made The Blueprint so fucking listenable – 70’s soul samples, with clean, vibrant drums. The Black Album has The Blueprint’s appetite for vigour and warmth. Arguably, The Black Album refines the recipe to produce something slightly more brittle, dark and dangerous.
There’s no doubt that no one tells the ‘rags to riches’ story better than Jay Z. Having memorised every line, he has little interest in deviating from the script. “I got a hustler’s spirit, n*gga, period,” he says on Public Service Announcement. If only Jay Z was always this concise. Remarkably, Jay Z would go on to recycle this same story again and again over another four studio albums – with no possible end in sight.
The fact of the matter is that Jay Z’s second, even third best attempt, is still so much better than anything offered by any of his 2003 contemporaries. And even if it’s only a shadow of The Blueprint, well, even a shadow of the Eiffel Tower is better than the actual Federation Square.
Of course it’s no secret that the God MC is only as good as the mortal producers who toil to build his pyramids. Like the Olympics, a Jay Z record is always an assembly of the world’s best producers, showcasing their talent on a much larger platform than they could ever enjoy independently.
Of course all kudos must begin first with Jay Z who struggled to hip-hop supremacy and then lit the beacon that would call forth the world’s best beatmakers. But by 2003 Jay Z had first dibs on the finest cuts produced globally – the offal left to 50 Cent or Lil Wayne. In fact The Black Album was originally marketed as a 12-track affair, with each song produced by a different world-class producer. This gimmick was unworkable and quickly abandoned, but the message stood: Come forth, come forth ye great producers of this Earth and lay your offerings before the feet of the King. And when Just Blaze, Rick Rubin and the Neptunes are all falling over themselves to provide you with music – hell, even the Soundcloud rappers from your hometown could put out a Billboard top 40 track.
The overall feeling of The Black Album is steered by Blueprint veteran beatmakers Just Blaze and Kanye West, who occupy almost one third of the album. Their use of soul samples and bold vibrant beats infect The Black Album with the magic of that earlier work. Timbaland is perhaps the only producer who does not conform to the Blueprint mould of the holistic fleshy sound. His wavering synthesiser on Dirt off Your Shoulders has a piss-weak insipid Fruity Loops feel to it. In 2016, with our love of banging and twirling trap drums, it’s hard to believe this song ever passed for a ‘club banger.’ Pharrell’s Neptunes do what they do best on Change Clothes, creating saccharine funk with warm melodies and Williams’ recognisable crooning falsetto.
Eminem’s Moment of Clarity is often derided by critics as a lazy mash-up of the Renegade and Lose Yourself beats. Notwithstanding this, its darker energy is a welcome change of pace. Moment of Clarity certainly seems far more at home on something called The Black Album than anything produced by the Neptunes, ever. Yet without a shadow of a doubt, it’s the inclusion of OG beatmaker Rick Rubin that provides the album with its freshest moment. 99 Problems pays homage to the rock-rap heavy metal boombox sound of early 80’s hip-hop pioneered by Rubin himself, and popularised by the Beastie Boys. It’s as if Rubin set out to create the perfect song to be experienced on the ghetto blaster, the sudden burst of electric guitar and cowbell, feel as if some B-Boy has just jacked up the volume for his favourite track without any kind of warning. The fact that Jay Z manages to ride this erratic and raucous beat is a credit to his lyrical dexterity.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OEHSRgwvbcI
While comparisons with The Blueprint are endless, ultimately both albums have the same aim: the future classic. They are truly timeless albums in a sea of dated mediocrity. Clean, crisp and substantive, it is simply mindboggling to believe these albums are 15 years old. The album title itself connects the African-American legacy with the most famous musicians of all time.
Where The Beatles had their White Album, Jay Z lays claim to a darker but no less significant work of art with his Black Album. In many respects the very reason hip-hop has been so unchanged in over a decade is because it was Jay Z himself who set this benchmark. The paradigm that all rappers have sought to either emulate or blatantly copy. In so many respects The Black Album is a shameless sequel – the Grease 2 of hip-hop. But listeners will not feel exploited. They might feel nostalgia. They will feel reverent, empowered, left in awe by the God MC.
Hip-hop is very much dependent on the ‘guest verse’ and the success of a hip-hop song will often hinge on whether it has that little ‘feat.’ tacked on at the end. In most other genres the lyrics are sung, and this naturally involves a range of notes and tones. Rapping, at its most basic level, involves listening to someone talk over a backing track. It can be extremely dull to listen to the same voice drone over an instrumental for 80 minutes. Enter the ‘guest’ rapper. A slight change in tone, pace or intonation can be all that is needed to breathe new life into a track.
Hip-hop, however, is also naturally about competition. The danger in depending on a support act is that the support act might upstage the main event. In an industry built on braggadocio and rivalry, there might be nothing more embarrassing than being bested on your own turf. Killed on your own track. Or as Nas famously put it, “murdered on your own shit.” We take a look back at hip-hop’s best scene-stealing cameos.
Track: Scenario Remix, 1992
Host: A Tribe Called Quest
Guest: Busta Rhymes
Charge: Manslaughter
Priors: Ghostface Killah on Iron Maiden
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Q6TLWqn82J4
A Tribe Called Quest were the masters of the “hippity-hop” / Rappers Delight style of old-school early 90’s rap. Simple, bouncy rhymes that flowed naturally and landed right on beat. Dinco D’s verse is emblematic of early 90s hip-hop, almost whimsical with a child-like quality “true blue! Scooby Doo, whoopee doo!” Enter the Leaders of the New School and Busta Rhymes. Because of Busta’s representation of the “new school” the Scenario Remix feels like the passing of the torch. And whilst Busta Rhyme’s verse is hardly revolutionary, (and still contained some of the rhythmic hallmarks of the era) it paved the way for a more frenetic, relentless rapping style that would come to dominate the late 00s.
It’s almost as if the Tribe caught a glimpse of their own death. Busta Rhymes is formally announced by Q-Tip and then given a small bridge to start warming up. He is handpicked for the last verse, the perfect opportunity to provide the finishing blow. “Watch as I combine all the juice from the mind” Busta starts. This is the perfect explanation for the complex neurochemistry that is about to begin. Busta delivers a barbarian flow, wild and booming, as we’re introduced to his trademarks roads. He crams syllables into beats “vo-cab-u-lary’s necessary / when digging in-to my library.”
Busta’s verse is so iconic that it is one of the most sampled all of time. Afrika Bambaata used the line “heel up, wheel up, bring it back come rewind” in Zulu War Chant. Nicki Minaj transformed Busta’s most famous guttural bark “rawr rawr like a dungeon dragon” into an entire song. And who could forget the truly bizarre rework of Busta’s “chickity-choco the chocolate chicken” into the Barenaked Ladies’ “chickity China the Chinese chicken” in 1998 one-hit wonder One Week. Busta Rhymes is a manic assassin, spraying rounds and making messy casualties of legends Phife Dawg and Q-Tip. As the closing act for hip-hop’s greatest posse cut, Busta K.O’s it and alludes to the future of a more sophisticated art form.
Track: Renegade, 2000
Host: Jay-Z
Guest: Eminem
Charge: Murder
Priors: 50 Cent on Patiently Waiting
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VIaBx_2AzTk
In response to Jay-Z’s The Takeover Nas produced a diss track so hot that its burn was supernatural, Ether. In a track that implies Jay-Z was molested as a child, one line hit even harder: “Eminem murdered you on your own shit.” Thus Nas gave birth to the expression we now use when a guest verse is hotter than that of the original artist.
Nas was of course speaking of Renegade, the ill-fitting addition to Jay-Z’s The Blueprint. Renegade feels out of place because it was originally intended as collaboration between Eminem and Royce Da 5”9. Written in 2001, Renegade came at the beginning of Eminem’s burgeoning interest in music production. The haunting beat is pure Slim and maybe it’s the reason the Detroit prodigy was able to dethrone the God MC. Home-court advantage.
Renegade is a classic exercise in trading bars. Both rappers get two verses each and go line-for-line in the chorus. This kind of equality makes it very easy to compare the performance of the two rappers. Hova’s verses are representative of everything about The Blueprint, crisp and clean. Jay-Z respects the beat, landing perfectly with the iconic “motherfuckers / say that I’m foolish / I only talk about jewels do you / fools listen to music / or do you just skim through it?” Jay-Z peddles the narrative of his entire career; financial difficulties, a fatherless childhood, and being forced to sell drugs to survive – a winning formula. The only problem is that Eminem’s “Evil” is just so much more interesting than Jay-Z’s “Bad.” Both rappers are given the opportunity to sing the song’s chorus, it’s just that when Eminem screams “Renegade!” he really means it.
Eminem’s use of assonance is incredible – “who’s the king of these rude, ludicrous, lucrative lyrics?” Also, Em’s verse is almost unmatched for its crescendo-like quality, the subject matter and the quality of the rhymes getting more and more intense as he reaches this climax “go to war with the Mormons, take a bath with the Catholics in holy water, no wonder they tried to hold me under longer.” But did Eminem really murder Jay? Hov seems to think so, conceding defeat on A Star Is Born; “his flow on Renegade, fucking awesome, applaud him.”
This jousting was historically important. In 2000 the undisputed king of hip-hop was Jay-Z. Eminem was at most a shocking court jester. There was little doubt that his success would be a passing novelty. Five albums later and the world is still split on who is the GOAT, Eminem or Jay.
Track: Run This Town, 2009
Host: Jay-Z
Guest: Kanye West
Charge: Manslaughter
Priors: Drake on Pop Style
On Run This Town Kanye West gives us a glimpse of a magic trick he would perform again on Watch the Throne – sawing Jay-Z in half without ever lifting a finger. On Watch the Throne Kanye’s “less” beats Jay Z’s “more” time and time again. Kanye’s rhyme patterns are often simplistic. He falls into the habit of rhyming non-rhyming words. “Coke on her black skin made it striped like a zebra / I call that jungle fever.” But Kanye’s rhymes are moreish. They’re memorable. It’s his emphasis and Frank Sinatra-like enunciation. It’s his wit and effortlessness. It makes every line a punch line. The great mystery of this trick is that you know Jay-Z is the better rapper, but he’s not the rapper you want to hear more of.
Released in 2009 as a single off Jay-Z’s The Blueprint III, Ye’s verse comes at an established point in his career, but before My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy took him to “genius” level. Kanye’s verse is important because it’s the first real time he challenges his mentor. What we get is Kanye butchering his Big Brother on his own song with a breezy flow chocked full of witty one-liners. “I can spend my whole life goodwill hunting / only good gonna come is it’s good when I’m cumming” Ye’s verse is jam-packed with quotables – “we give a damn about the drama that your dude bring / I’m just trying to change the colour on your mood ring.”
In 2016, Kanye is still assassinating rappers without breaking a sweat. He absolutely phones in his verse on Schoolboy Q’s THat Part. The last 20 seconds of his verse is something like a ”freestyle” where he resorts to making sound effects and then laughing hysterically. But it’s listenable. Kanye’s verse on Pop Style is the benchmark for simple, witty rhymes that everyone can sing along to at pre-drinks – “they like Pablo, “why are all the windows tinted on your Tahoe?”
Something of a gracious loser, Jay-Z again conceded defeat. Well sort of. In an interview Jigga was asked whether Kanye had killed him on his own track, he said: “as long as I’ve been in the game, that’s gong to happen, once or twice or even three times.
Track: Skew It On The Bar-B, 1998
Host: Outkast
Guest: Raekwon
Charge: Manslaughter
Priors: Mobb Deep on Nighttime Vultures
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2XU2o8p-Ixo
By 1998 Outkast had already shattered perceptions of the South as a hip-hop backwater. Nonetheless, the hip-hop intelligentsia had still decreed East-Coast boom bap as the benchmark of the genre. On their magnum opus Aquemini, Outkast invited Raekwon The Chef to join them on Skew It On The Bar-B, with the hopes of murdering the east-coast great on home turf.
Raekwon, used to the simple boom bap drums of the East Coast, might have been expected to struggle with Outkast’s melody and distinct Southern flavour. The Chef rises to the challenge. He embraces the style of the track, yet still delivers his trademark “ghetto Mafioso” flow.
It’s no easy feat to best a rapper regularly placed in the top five of all time list, but Raekwon manages to slay Andre the Giant on his own song. Andre 3000 comes with one of the most memorable opening verses of all time, “the common denominator, the n**ga numerator / never know the hater, n**gas cater to your ego.” Outkast love showing off their supersonic rhyming speeds and this track is no exception. The assonance in Andre’s verse is delectable.
The typically lethargic Rakewon is energised by the bouncy Organized Noize track. Matching the speed of Outkast without compromising his own style. Raekwon’s ability to adapt shows the versatility of his flow. But his choice of subject matter is safe territory, preferring the thematics of drug dealing and skirmishes with police than the extra-terrestrial nonsense of the Atlanta natives. Raekwon takes it to one of the greatest rappers all time, seamlessly rhyming off the same word for twelve whole bars, “hydro slide raw like fuck Ronaldo, fly ride though, shit lookin wild dope.” Raekwon milks this “o” sound, repeating it a full 25 times. Outkast hoped for an ambush but instead got killed in their own home.
Track: Diamonds from Sierra Leone Remix, 2005
Host: Kanye West
Guest: Jay Z
Charge: Murder in the First Degree
Priors: Pusha T on Drug Dealers Anonymous
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=92FCRmggNqQ
Given that Kanye and Jay’s relationship was far from perfect in the early stages of Kanye’s career, the track does contain a sense of the Def Jam President putting the young upstart in his place. From the beginning, Jay-Z seems dismissive of his protégé, ‘leave this to the professionals’ he implies; “yup, I got it from here, Ye damn.”
On the Diamonds from Sierra Leone Remix Yeezy does a decent job of tackling dense issues on an already superb track. Kanye explores the conflict diamond trade with some serviceable rhymes, but Jay-Z’s verse is truly memorable. If nothing else, it gave us the homophone that is the ultimate slogan for Jay-Z’s entire career: “I’m not a businessman, I’m a business, man!” With a basketball team, a clothing line, his own brand of cognac and an entire identity built around entrepreneurship, the catechism perfectly captures the phenomenon that is ‘Jay-Z.’
The master of multiple meanings, Jay-Z’s verse contains one of the densest quadruple entendres with “the pressure’s on, but guess who ain’t gonna crack?” In a time before Rap Genius, unpacking this line would have required reference to Jay Z’s autobiography and lyric bible, Decoded The line simultaneously refers to four things: the pressure of keeping Roc-A-Fella afloat after a falling out with co-founders Dame Dash and Kareem “Biggs” Burke, the high pressure conditions in the Earth’s mantle necessary for the creation of diamonds, the natural pressures that come with selling crack cocaine. In the following line Jay-Z says “haha, pardon me, I had to laugh at that.”: His own wit has caused him to ‘crack up’ laughing.
Early in his career, Kanye showed a degree of humility that would not be seen again after 2009. Big Brother deals with how Kanye’s admiration for Jay-Z inspired him to work harder. Despite his best efforts, he concedes that on “that Diamonds Remix, I swore I’d spazz / then my big brother came through and kicked my ass.”
Track: International Player’s Anthem, 2007
Host: UGK
Guest: Andre 3000
Charge: Murder in the First Degree
Priors: Jay-Z on 30 Somethin’
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=awMIbA34MT8
UGK’s International Player’s Anthem and its classic video clip centres around the wedding of Andre 3000 and the admonitions of his friends, who warn him against abandoning the single life. Andre might provide the guest verse, but it is Andre’s wedding, Andre’s story, and Andre’s verse that you remember from this anthem.
Forever a master of “Storytellin’” this verse is exceptional for its vivid narrative, covering everything from communicating to ex-lovers to fidelity and revenge. It’s a rare hip-hop ode to monogamy, Andre acknowledging that a married life means foregoing the sea of women that surround him. Andre adopts a spoken word style suited to the confessional rap. Andre uses that classic Outkast technique of splitting up words so the rhyme arrives on beat, “reconsider, read some liter-rature on the subject” and “fuck it / you know we got your back like chiroprac-tic.” This verse also contains a killer double entendre “I’m so like a pimp / I’m glad it’s night.” Both a reference to the peak business hours for pimping and the soul of Gladys Knight And The Pips
This verse in 2007 almost kicked off the trend of Andre 3000 channelling his numerous talents into measly guest verses. Whilst we have to be thankful for Andre’s killer verses on Lloyd’s Dedication to my Ex, Beyoncé’s Party, and Frank Ocean’s Pink Matter, these verses may have slaked Andre’s urge to rap, and it might be the reason we haven’t had a solo album from him since The Love Below.
The curious thing about International Player’s Anthem is that Andre really provides more of an ‘intro’ or ‘opening monologue’ than a ‘verse.’ The bass drops when Pimp C takes the mic, and the song is completely transformed into a crunk banger. Pimp C and Bun B ride the fast pace of the new song, and provide its ‘anthem’ element. Even when ‘warming up’ Andre 3000 is spitting fire.
Track: Shadowboxin, 1995
Host: GZA
Guest: Method Man
Charge: Murder in the First Degree
Priors: LL Cool J on 4, 3, 2, 1
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=v7kAk5dTsj0
Liquid Swords by the Wu-Tang Clan’s GZA is still considered to be one of hip-hop’s finest displays of lyricism. An old-school disciple of quality rhymes, the GZA was the architect responsible for putting together some of the finest rhymes ever pressed on wax. Getting Method Man to jump on Shadowboxin’ was a calculated decision, Meth complementing the feel of the track perfectly. Method Man and GZA box, but it is the former who comes out on top, besting the Genius at the top of his game.
In retrospect, the verse is trademark Method Man. Meth’s flow has a Dr. Seuss-like quality to it, shifting between nonsense words and pop-culture references (“ticallion stallion, chinky-eye and snot-nosed”). The comparisons between Busta Rhymes are fair, not only for the guttural noises (“everything huh in any shape form or fashion / now everybody talking bout they blasting hmmmm) but for the sheer range of his subject matter and vocabulary (“slip the cardiac arrest me, exorcist Hip Hop possess me.”)
The hip-hop world knew right away that Method Man had brought his A-game, earning the prestigious “Hip Hop Quotable of the Month” for his verse in the December 1995 issue of The Source.
It might not be correct to classify this as a ‘guest verse’ since Method Man anchors the entire track, with his talents being put front and centre in contributing both the first and last verses. Legend has it that the middle verse from GZA was an afterthought; a fun opportunity to jump onto an already hot track. Again, the GZA knew he had been bested, conceding in an interview that it “always seemed more like Meth’s track” with his verse as “filler.” But it’s unfair to dismiss the GZA’s verse as mere “filler,” dropping an unreal line with “my sword still remain imperial / before I blast the mic, RZA scratch off the serial.”
Track: Beautiful Bliss, 2009
Host: Wale
Guest: J. Cole
Charge: Pre-meditated Murder
Priors: Jay-Z on A Star Is Born
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lirCKMj-cis
What makes this murder so particularly twisted and cruel is the sense of betrayal, of thwarted dreams and a stolen birthright that came with it. In 2009 Wale signed with Interscope and was being touted as the next big thing. His debut album Attention Deficit sold poorly, despite favourable reviews from critics. This album was supposed to be the real debut of Wale, but what we got instead was the debut of J. Cole.
Wale invited up and coming rapper J. Cole to put down a guest verse on the otherwise forgettable Beautiful Bliss. Like Renegade, the name of the song has become synonymous with guest-on-host murder.
Legend has it that J. Cole was extremely conscious of the attention surrounding this mainstream feature and made a concerted effort to spazz. As a result, Cole’s verse is filled with vivid imagery, catchy punchlines and raw energy. On Beautiful Bliss J. Cole shows his hunger. “Ain’t nothing given, dog, it’s earned / if you just living, dog, you learn / I let you n*ggas see the light / I’m like the prison yard, I yearn.” J. Cole’s final exclamation “I’m from the Ville boy!” shows his intensity.
The cruelty of this murder is that Wale probably thought he was doing J. Cole a favour. Putting a young rapper on an album guaranteed to blow. What Wale could not have foreseen was that J. Cole would spit flames and then go on to forge a far more successful career in the exact same lane. Wale accidentally gave life to a terrifying rival in the alternative hip-hop scene. While Wale never lived up to his potential, his protégé showed early signs of becoming one of the greats.
Track: Monster, 2010
Host: Kanye West
Guest: Nicki Minaj
Charge: Triple Homicide
Priors: Big Sean on Dance (A$$)
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jGyIXJ4KG8U
File this under triple homicide. On Monster the “bride of Chucky” easily disposes of Kanye West, Jay-Z and (to a much lesser extent) Rick Ross. It’s more than the best verse on the track. Or even the best verse on the album. It simply must be considered one of the greatest verses of all time.
Nicki Minaj’s verse on Monster is even more shocking because it is effectively her debut. It’s true that Minaj had already had a strong summer on urban radio with her first single Your Love and an equally blistering verse on Trey Songz’ Bottoms Up. But it was Monster that brought Nicki to mainstream audiences and provided the perfect launching platform for her debut album Pink Friday, released just one-month later. Nicki says it best herself: “50K for a verse, no album out.” Believe the hype, this is an artist to invest in. Less than six years later and she has become a hip-hop institution and the frontrunner for the greatest female MC of all time.
Minaj’s energy and vibrancy make it abundantly clear that she will carry the torch for the next generation. She utterly shames the G.O.A.T. contender, the not-so-Young Hov. Her distinctive tones are a breath of fresh air on the very album that revitalized the whole genre. On an album as bright as MBDTF, Minaj manages to eclipse not just some of the best rappers on earth, but the best artists. Although it is one of the great humblebrags, Kanye West has it right when he describes it as “the best verse on the best hip-hop album of all time.”
Minaj does imagery like few others. The first few lines of her verse paint one of the most vivid in hip-hop (“I’m in that Tonka colour of Willy Wonka”). She takes aim at male-dominated industry (“you can be the King but Watch the Queen conquer”). She pays homage to her Trinidadian roots (“Tony Mattheron, dutty wine it, wylin”), boasting one of the many accents and voices at her disposal. A voice Minaj uses like an instrument, constantly altering between sickly sweet chirping, low growls and piercing screams, all in the one breath.
It is a credit to the quality of this verse that, despite its sheer complexity, everyone knows the words. It’s the kind of verse that you make the effort to learn. This is exactly what hip-hop is about. This is what you live for.
Track: Control, 2013
Host: Big Sean
Guest: Kendrick Lamar
Charge: Mass Murder
Priors: Pusha T on Nosetalgia
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=W7zdMeZPkpY
No surprises here. This is an example of premeditated murder. An act of hip-hop terrorism, Kendrick Lamar’s verse was a calculated move to incite fear amongst the rap community.
Big Sean and Jay Electronica provide serviceable verses, but none can compare to K.Dot’s conscious intent to “blow up the internet.” Kendrick’s worldwide chest-thumping transformed a B-side reject from Big Sean’s sophomore album into a social media shitstorm. Lamar’s Twitter account saw a 510% increase in followers in the week following the track’s release and he gained 88,000 new fans on Facebook. Even the lesser artists that Kendrick shouted out received a boost in profile, with Mac Miller gaining 87,000 new followers. The official story is that it could not be included because the “sample didn’t’ clear.” Or maybe Big Sean didn’t want to give any more oxygen to Kendrick Lamar on his own album.
Hip-hop is inherently about bragging, but Kendrick’s boasts on Control border on sacrilegious. He places himself right at the beginning of a ‘barber shop’ lists of the G.O.A.T that includes Jay-Z, Nas, Eminem and Andre 3000. He claims to descend directly from 2pac, and most shockingly calls himself “the King of New York.” It’s testament to Kendrick’s skills that some of these claims don’t even seem that outlandish.
He adopts an unusually gruff voice that’s suited to the seriousness of the subject matter. “This is hip-hop and n**gas should know what time it is” he says, offering a warning and wake-up call to his competition. Kendrick’s verse is blistering and relentless. While the earlier bars contain some of the most quotable lines of all time, the final moments show off his skills as a lyricist, with vivid images and complex internal rhymes.
Nowadays, even the least subtle diss tracks have the good sense not to specifically mention the rapper’s name. On Control Kendrick methodically moves through the list of top rappers, articulating their stage names with his gravelly voice. “Big Sean, Jay Electron,’ Tyler, Mac Miller / I got love for you all but I’m tryna murder you n**gas.” You know that Kendrick wanted to see his name on lists like this when he specifically used the exact language Nas used to describe Eminem’s verse on Renegade.
Kendrick’s Control verse served to revitalise the competitive spirit of the genre. It called forth a wave of response tracks and incited more debate and discussion than any hip-hop track since.
Image: Discogs
In 2016 it’s hard to believe that hip-hop had already been proclaimed dead by 1998. It was the same complaint then that it is now. Whilst East Coast boom bap wasn’t exactly a “distant memory,” it was still considered the genre’s zenith, never to be obtained again after the death of the Notorious B.I.G. in 1997. In 1995, at the height of the East Coast, West Coast war, the Source Awards were held in the birthplace of rap, New York City. A homegrown crowd of hip-hop purists booed Snoop Dogg and Dr Dre and their hip-hop bastardisation, G-Funk. If Snoop and Dre were ignorami, then Outkast, hailing from Atlanta, Georgia were outright hillbillies. Even in 1995 the Dirty South had a reputation for producing the lowest common denominator of rap; when Andre 3000 took to the stage to accept the award for ‘Best New Rap Group’ he made his presence known: “the South has something to say.” Those words didn’t just herald a new combatant in America’s regional hip-hop war. It heralded the arrival of Outkast.
In 1998, Outkast released their third, and greatest album, Aquemini, and showed the world that the genre wasn’t dead yet. Released in a year when the most experimental thing hip-hop could think of was a sample from the musical Annie, Outkast’s gift for foresight resulted in an album that was prophetic in its scope. It sounded progressive in 1998 and it sounds progressive now. 12 years before Kanye West was “transcending genres,” Outkast were experimenting with gospel, jazz, world music, funk, spoken word and live instrumentation. It shattered the widely held perception that the genre was out of sonic ideas. It established hip-hop as the finest platform for experimentation, unique in its ability to borrow from other genres and yet still retain an identity. Play it next to Good Kid M.A.A.D City, and the latter instantly loses its “experimental” gloss. Play it next to To Pimp A Butterfly and it’s almost impossible to determine which came first. It may be the first audio recording of the words “crunk” and even, “trap.” It foretells the coming of autotune, 10 years before 808s & Heartbreak. On Aquemini, Andre was experimenting with singing, voice modification and pitch-correction. Many in his camp warned that this would alienate the group’s urban audience. It paid homage to the past, while it kept its gaze firmly on a science fiction future. But for an album so many decades ahead of its time, it’s remarkable for its unpretentious quality, pure and affirming.
The album’s chief fixation is the concept of duality. Whilst the name comes from a portmanteau of the two performers Zodiac signs, Aquarius and Gemini, the latter is enough to encapsulate the symbology: the story of mortal twins who ascend into godhood. Whilst an “opposites attract” theme was present in their first two albums, Aquemini was the first to employ the tagline “The Player and the Poet.” Big Boi is the hustler, the stand-over man and the realist, “I’m strapped man and ready to bust on any n*gga like that man.” Andre is the prophet, the bohemian and the futurist, “my mind warps and bends, floats the wind.”
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QXSWwsrSZ9o
The dichotomy is no more apparent than on Return of the G. Andre contemplates “time travel,” while Big Boi prefers to “set back in his gators and watch [his] baby girl blow bubbles.” West Savannah and Slump are stories weaved from Big Boi’s past. Synthesizer and Da Art of Storytellin Part 2 are Andre’s predictions for the future, but to see the Poet as the superior aspect is to misunderstand the symbiotic nature of the Gemini. Big Boi and Andre 3000 are fractions of a perfect being. The Player offers some respite from the Poet’s sermonising. On occasion, intellectual pursuit has to make way for the fruits of the flesh. To neglect the mind is ignorant, but to neglect the body is idiotic. This device facilitates the exploration of a problem at the core of hip-hop: how to be an artist and still “keep it real.”
Many albums grapple with the difficulty of being either commercial or artistic. Few do it explicitly. The album is lyrically engaged with the difficulty, or the impossibility of being both commercially and critically acclaimed. Outkast were totally conscious of what any attempt to broaden their horizons might do to alienate old fans, or tarnish their “gangsta” reputation. The outro skit on Return of the G takes place at a record shop, with some disgruntled former fans decrying Outkast’s regression from “pimps” to “aliens” to “black righteous,” the fans “ain’t fuckin’ with them no mo.’” But the same fan might have been pleased with Aquemini.
In 1998 you could either be Jay-Z or Blackstar, with little in between. The Player and the Poet wanted it both ways. Whilst Aquemini gives us a 9-minute world music slam poetry session with Erykah Badu on Liberation, it also gives us Mafioso music with Raekwon on Skew It On the Bar-B. Aquemini showed us that hip-hop could be so much more than drugs and guns, but it never denied that guns and drugs were an important aspect of the culture. Aquemini is concerned with the human condition and it is concerned with the cosmos: Andre 3000 speaks with the same disaffected tone when he describes a drug overdose, as when he describes the apocalypse, neither is inherently more tragic than the other. This middle ground approach resulted in a gospel that was never preachy, a sophistication that was never snobbish, and an intelligence that was never superior. The albums final skit sees the same customers return to the record shop. They’re unhappy with the fictional Pimp Trick Gangsta Clique album and demand a refund. The thugs have become discerning.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SiBh_JinGbE
While the hip-hop concept album had existed for some years, Aquemini was the first hip-hop epic. Aquemini is cinematic in its ability to isolate a set number of themes and focus on them in detail: on the earthy side, the album deals with interpersonal relationships. Through the narrative of a night out at an underage nightclub SpottieOttieDopaliscious juxtaposes the two romances of Andre and Big Boi, as well as providing the most infectious horns section in music history. Andre’s chance at love is quashed when a neighbourhood gang-feud breaks out on the dance floor, but it’s the Player who witnesses Poetry, when he meets the eyes of a woman on the dancer floor. One minute he’s in “the booty clubs,” and the next, “four years you and somebody’s daughter raisin y’all own young’n, now that’s a beautiful thang.” The seemingly out of place Mamacita, (which describes a female-female rape) makes more sense as a piece of autobiography – a former girlfriend of Andre 3000 began seeing women after their breakup.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vXmqauitBkM
Aquemini also tackled the issue of drug addiction in Southern communities. In Da Art of Storytellin’ Part 1, Andre again reaches into his own history to give us the character of Sasha Thumper and one of the most memorable aphorisms in hip-hop. When Andre asks the self-destructive Sasha Thumper what she wants to be when she grows up, she responds simply, “alive.” The John Lennon-esque quote is reportedly taken from a real-life conversation that Andre had with a child.
Maybe the albums biggest concern is a millennial fear of the apocalypse. Aquemini in 1998 captured a legitimate Y2K fear that the Year 2000 would bring about the end of days. But Outkast aren’t superstitious. They don’t believe the rapture will be signalled by “four horsies.” No, it’s the hubris of mankind that will trigger Armageddon – man’s relentless pursuit of technological advancement and his rapacious exploitation of Mother Earth. As early as 1998, Andre 3000 connected pollution with cataclysmic changes in global weather. In Synthesizer, a broadcast announces a news segment that will deal with the Mary Shelley conundrum, “are we digging into new ground, or digging our own graves?” Andre takes aim at the falsity of modern life, augmented by plastic surgery, virtual reality and even what we would now call, autotune. Da Art of Storytellin Part 2, meanwhile, is the story of the last recorded song on earth. It’s also chilling in its approach to the acceptance of death. When Andre looks up at the “electric blue sky” and sees that it is “raining cats and jackals,” he doesn’t panic. The rapture, like all death, is equalising and inevitable. Andre calls his fellow musicians and tells them to meet him at the centre of the earth. Bring the MPC and the SP 1200, he says. The distortion and relentless energy capture the feeling of an impending storm. But unlike Tenacious D, this isn’t just a tribute to the greatest song in the world, it is the greatest song in the world.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-G0Uos-Le9M
The simplistic nature of 90’s boom bap beats meant that virtually any sound desired could be recreated on a drum machine, and the sheer musical complexity of Aquemini left Outkast with little choice but to use live instrumentation. Bosstown Recording Studios operated on an ‘open door policy,’ with an assortment of musicians walking in and out of the studio at various stages of the album’s recording process. Reggae, jazz, funk and soul – Outkast were mashing-up the canon of black musical history long before Kendrick Lamar. Aquemini was built on improvisation, with many of the iconic chord patterns created during live jam sessions. This free-form process, in which even the most minor element was the product of improvisation, gave the album its organic feel. But whilst Aquemini borrows from other genres and other times, it’s unique in its distinct Southern flavour. In the late 1990s, Southern rappers were working hard to downplay their hillbilly heritage. Outkast embraced it. Rosa Parks is the classic hoedown anthem reworked for a post-Reconstruction South. Filled with plucky guitar, folksy harmonies, and even a foot-stomping breakdown complete with a harmonica solo delivered by a real-life preacher; Rosa Parks affirms the history of the South, and ensures its posterity.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=drsQLEU0N1Y
The Year 2000 came and went without incident. Outkast released three more albums. All were hailed as progressive masterpieces. By 2006 Outkast were no more. Had they broken up? Had they disbanded? Or were the Player and the Poet, merely pausing, giving the world a decade to catch up to them?
Image: Hip-Hop Golden Age
The Underachievers are a crucial pillar in the magical movement currently growing in New York City known as “Beast Coast.” “I put it down for my city that new, New York is with me / they say its like the 90’s because we bringing back the gritty/ rep that conscious flow committee” raps Issa Gold on Cold Crush, articulating the fundamental tenets of the movement. Although no one can quite determine an exact definition, if “Beast Coast” means a return to boom bap lyricism, but with progressive psychedelic beats – then please sign me up. The Underachievers take the nostalgic orange of the golden era and spray paint it purple.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rsAkYymFs9Q
For unsigned laptop rappers pushing a new form of hippy hip-hop, The Underachievers have a polished live show. Forming in 2011, but remaining fiercely underground, Issa Gold and AK have had an opportunity to perfect their stagecraft. They perform with the boundless energy that might be expected of their young age. The Beast Coast movement is famous for putting lyricism back in the foreground, and AK and Issa are amongst the best spitting right now. AK shows he is a master of assonance on Take Your Place with “fuck what the peasants say / just let the resume resonate heavily /enemies hope for the end of this energy.”
There’s really nothing like hearing supersonic bars delivered effortlessly in the flesh. The Underachievers have real gills, zigzagging across stage, screaming and spitting double-time. They also have a fluid partnership that makes them greater than the sum of their parts. This is no more evident than when they’re bouncing off of each other on T.A.D.E.D, trading escalating bars. The duo engineered about eight encores, repeatedly threatening to end the show, until deafening cheers brought them back on stage.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9AlLFUrPvJQ
The Underachievers tweaked their music for live performance, substituting trippy tracks for thumping trap bangers. This was more Travi$ Scott than Pro Era. There’s no doubt that their music does have a trap basis, and if you crank it up to 11 it has the potential to make a room wobble. However, the overwhelming feel of The Underachievers’ music is light, with cosmic piano keys overlaying the bass. The Gregorian chants that feature in both Generation Z and Take Your Place were either consciously removed or just failed to make it out of the speakers. Stripped of that melody, these songs become twirling trap bangers of the hardest kind, not to mention the inclusion of the already-brutal production of Lex Luger on tracks like Flexin and Cold Crush. This pragmatic decision was surprising, but no doubt sensible. It was a far cry from a Vince Staples set that put slower songs centre stage, and suffered for it. There was no opportunity for the crowd to sway gently to trippy tunes as the marijuana took hold.
Banger after banger kept the cadre of die-hard fans performing athletics front and centre, reflecting the lyrics of this meaner Generation Z “I’m always high as a fucking kite, but my mosh pits they get violent.” Crowd favourite Golden Soul Theory almost felt out of place amidst the hard-core onslaught. You could be forgiven for thinking that their most popular track was a cover version. The lightest moment of the concert came with The Mahdi, the twinkling piano and soulful saxophone providing some much needed melody and respite.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4_122Tx8xmg&nohtml5=False
Despite the slight change in tone there was still plenty of the “third eye” rhetoric that distinguishes UA and the Flatbush Zombies from anyone else in hip-hop. 20 years ago people would have said that hippies and hip-hop were incompatible. The Beast Coast compellingly blends the New Age with boom bap, in a way that is a credit to both philosophies. For The Underachievers, drug use is a crucial ingredient in opening the third eye and reaching a higher consciousness. “I’m smoking up on my herb shuttles, elevated, n*gga that’s the motto” raps Issa Gold. Issa completely failed to see the irony when he shouted “how many of you n*ggas like to smoke weed?” to an entirely white audience. Nonetheless, he received a resounding reply. The audience had clearly embraced the groups message, with one reveller spending the entire show steadying himself against a wall, with eyes #1 and #2 rolling back in his skull, but eye #3 well and truly open. However, he had failed to heed Issa’s warning on Take Your Place, “I do the drugs, the drugs, they never do me.”
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rqDkW6xhseM&nohtml5=False
The Underachievers are aware of the benefit that comes with their association with their slightly more famous contemporaries, the Flatbush Zombies. “Who here likes the Flatbush Zombies?” they yell before launching into a cover. The groups have been close friends, and as they have risen in tandem, the Zombies have become more prominent, mainly due to their use of fuller, more punchy beats, often concocted by Erick Ark Elliot. Still, there are times when the Underachievers show themselves to be the better group, with consistently excellent lyrics and solid production.
As a result of their youth and their underground status, The Underachievers perform with a refreshing sense of humility. In an age where touring is meaning more and more for a musician’s livelihood, artists are becoming more appreciative of the obscure fan bases that they are able to create. That people in Brunswick, Melbourne had bothered to fork out $50 to see an independent act from Flatbush, Brooklyn, a group of people that had no discernible connection with the performers, is something to be grateful for. Both performers continued to touch and high five fans throughout the show; probably marvelling that anyone would be that desperate to make physical contact with them. At the shows end, Issa Gold repeatedly thanked his fans and expressed his love. You could hear the sincerity. With a world tour, this duo of misfits had achieved more than they could have imagined.
Check out our full photo gallery of The Underachievers in Melbourne here.
Image: Lady Drewniak / Howl & Echoes
Young Thug has become one of the most divisive artists in hip-hop. Some see him as the poster boy for the death knell of hip-hop, coming to represent the antithesis of everything that once made hip-hop great. His growing success only mirrors the decline of true hip-hop. Where old school rap championed wordplay, Young Thug mumbles indecipherable nothings. Where old school rap detailed the struggle of urban life, Young Thug revels in the ‘hood rich’ lifestyle. Where old school rap had soulful crooning, autotune now works overtime to make Young Thug’s utterances barely listenable. At the same time, Young Thug is respected as a pioneer, creating a new type of music that transcends the need for words. Where the substance of music is more important than its façade. He’s said to be Shakespearean in his exploitation of language, stretching our understanding of how linguistics work. His music can capture a haunting loneliness that is uncommon in the boastful world of rap. So which is he, prophetic genius or talentless imbecile?
The phrase “worst freestyle ever” gets bandied around with some regularity. But there’s little doubt that this regurgitation delivered by Young Thug on French breakfast radio is a serious contender.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RS7ry38Kvvo
Delivered on 16 November 2015, this freestyle was the first of two atrocities levelled against the French people in one horrific month.
The freestyle is interesting because it features all the classic criticisms that are hurled at Young Thug: indecipherable mumbling, exchanging actual English words for a series of sound effects that would make Michael Winslow turn in his grave. Then there’s his tendency to warble off into the distance and leave lines unfini… The few bars that Thug does successfully deliver are either asinine or nonsensical. Futhermore, Young Thug cares for time signatures like his own children- neglectfully. It’s also inexplicably delivered over what sounds like the backing track from Crouching Tiger Hidden Dragon.
It’s like listening to the Scatman trapped in a K-hole. And the scariest part is that it’s not that different from a quickly churned out studio recorded single. It’s not hard to image that with a bit of autotune tweaking and some thumping trap drums, it could become track 7 on Slime Season IV.
The internet is awash with rumours of Young Thug’s unique song writing process. Producer Dun Deal shed some light on Thug’s method in recording his first smash hit Stoner. Dun Deal examined the notepad which Young Thug had been consulting in the studio. Instead of finding written words he found “weird signs and shapes.” When questioned, Thugger responded, “I don’t need no words.” In an interview, Thug then told Dazed Magazine that he can “write a perfect song in ten minutes.”
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5-0kZ_jeIHI
Now had these claims of savant-like recall come from say, Kanye West, they would be quickly dismissed as childish boasting. But I personally don’t doubt for one second that Thug is being prompted by pictures of crop circles, and is producing songs in exactly double the time it takes to sing them. It would go along way to explain the manic, unconventional, and occasionally, shoddy nature of his work. There is little doubt that Young Thug is at his absolute worst when squeezing out B-sides to fill his voluminous collection of free mixtapes. The complete lack of structure or accountability means an overall drop in the quality of Young Thug’s work.
If you don’t know what I’m talking about then please look no further then Track 9 from the third 1017 Thug mixtape, You The World.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZiaMiDzBZfY
To call it a poorly mixed supercut of Young Thug’s best adlibs would be generous. You The World does contain two of Thug’s most popular adlibs, a noise to express someone’s failure (rraeegh) and a P.C exultation of shock short of blasphemy (sheesh). But one adlib is notably missing: SKRRRT, Thug’s charming impression of a car skidding uncontrollably off a bridge.
Instead, You the World sounds like this internet farting sound board played over the beat from the start up menu on Dance Dance Revolution. In fact, Thug himself finds the perfect word to describe the song right at the 2:29 minute mark. Garbage. I can say with confidence that it’s one of the worst things I’ve ever heard.
For many, hip-hop is fundamentally about one thing: verbal excellence. Many rap fans consider the mark of a legendary MC to be a razor sharp tongue, a head for poetics, and a crisp delivery. In fact, it could be said that rapping, by definition, means to speak clearly and coherently over music, as distinguished from singing which involves bending or warbling words to fit music. It’s easy to see why so many people think that Young Thug, with his Marlon Brando mumbling and use of Pentacostal gibberish, can never fit this traditional mould.
The rise of the “warble rapper” is not a phenomenon that has gone unnoticed or unmocked. Hip-hop satirist Hopsin was quick to spoof the scarily growing trend, taking particular aim at Future and Young Thug.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IiNNBc557OQ
Hopsin picks up on the hip-hop devolution currently in progress. We went from “consciously unconscious” lyrics, where rappers like Chief Keef and Wacka Flocka flaunted their “ignorance” for street cred. Now the latest trend is a further reduction; not even lyrics, just a collection of utterances heavily reverbed. Rhyming hasn’t been a precondition of hip-hop since 2005. In 2016, English isn’t a precondition either.
Is this a new language only understood by its practitioners? Doesn’t seem to be. In fact, Thug’s lyrics seem unintelligible even to himself. GQ had Young Thug read out his own lyrics to Best Friend in the hope of deciphering them for fans.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IVRXJ1Gd33g
You would maybe assume that in recording and performing a song the lyrics, whether actually written or largely adlibbed, would quickly become burned in your memory. When Thug is handed that piece of paper, his careful analysis and lack of confidence really suggests that this is the first time he has seen any of this information. Several lines he reads with an inflection at the end, as if questioning whether that really is the actual wording (or alternatively, if he really could have authored something so ridiculous).
You know it’s a bad sign when lyric annotation super database Genius has trouble deciphering your lyrics. Surrendering, the Genius annotators behind Young Thug’s Foreign simply left several lines marked with a (?).
If you think this was an act of laziness, please listen to the song and appreciate the Rosetta Stone level of archaeological translation that was required to illuminate even the first 4 lines. Having said that, collaborator Yakki Divioshi kills Thug on his own track, with an impressive 9 recorded (?)’s instead of actual words.
But is Young Thug’s vocal style simply lazy mumbling, or is it a revolutionary new approach to music and wordplay?
To hear some critics describe Young Thug’s vocal style, you would think they were reviewing The Marriage of Figaro. Will Stephenson from the Fader describes Young Thug “feverishly contorting his voice into a series of odd timbers like a beautifully played but broken wind instrument.” Paul Thompson from Vulture notes Thug’s “guttural bark” which “bleeds into a falsetto” on the track 2 Cups Stuffed, which yes, is a song about having more than one cup of codeine-infused lemonade. Young Thug blends sounds and syllables in a manner that, meaningless or not, simply sound good to the human ear. It’s not very different from a modern form of scat (as in the type of singing, and not faecal matter, although you could be forgiven for thinking the latter). And say what you will about the overuse of autotune, and its ability to transform a terrible singer into a passable one, but Young Thug only uses it intermittently, and its absence often shows that he has perfect pitch.
Young Thug might be seen as the next step in a linguistic evolution. He uses a new form of primal screaming to express feelings for which there are no words; convey emotions that cannot be articulated. For Charlie Locke at Wired, Young Thug strips back extraneous words and leaves us with pure sound, in order to “distil a feeling.” Young Thug “doesn’t explain; he expresses.” Sheldon Pearce notes Thug’s unique ability to “do an entire song without words and we’d still get it.”
For example, look no further than Young Thug’s greatest song Best Friend. The lyrics are either nonsensical (I’m bleeding bad, like a bumble bee) or filled with meaningless gangster rap platitudes (hundred thousand dollars inside my pants, my shit on fleek). But the message of the song is loud and clear. Young Thug has transcended the need for words. With the literary assistance of a sensational video clip, the feeling of Best Friend is inescapable: a promenade through a Grimm-esque forest where an unseen danger stalks you through the dense trees. A boom of bass emerges ex nihilo from complete silence indicating the suddenness of capture. The effect of the song is haunting, but rugged. All these different feelings elicited from a song with the actual lyrics “me a horny goat, I’m boolin’ at the bull shop.”
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Tz6OUIjtM6E&nohtml5=False
Much like Future, one of the most remarkable things about Young Thug is his ability to imbue his music (intentionally or not) with a tragic quality. The mumbling where words trail off into the distance almost exhibits a lack of confidence. The inability to look someone in the eye, the lack of conviction in your own words. Thug is at his absolute best when doing tragedy, some haunting piano keys behind him, and a weak longing in his autotune coded voice. Check is ostensibly a song about how Young Thug has in his possession, a personal cheque, presumably for a lot of money. But the soft wavering beat combined with Thug’s soft wavering voice, undeniably suggests the hollowness of this type of existence. Thug has a wad of cash in his hand, surrounded by faceless retainers, but is he happy? Again, the song Numbers presumably refers to dollar figures, but the piano keys and incoming thunderclouds make this song thoroughly depressing. Love Me Forever is as good as any rappers’ ode to a lover. But the vaguely oriental beat and Thug’s crooning give the song a stalker-ish eeriness or a death mask beauty. For a rapper talking so much rubbish, there is a dark resonance to his music.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RAzzv6Ks9nc&nohtml5=False
It’s also simply undeniable that Young Thug has been responsible for some of the hardest cuts of the past two years. If trap music is the future, it has been inextricably tied to the fate of Young Thug. The Metro Thuggin’ partnership is responsible for more than just one of the best shoutout DJ tags in the game (before it was cruelly usurped by ‘if young metro don’t trust you, I’mma shoot you’). Hercules and The Blanguage are two Metro Boomin bangers, where Young Thug’s falsetto pierces through the deep bass for a stunning effect.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2TOB2McGSVw
Young Thug is more disciplined under Metro’s guidance. You can automatically hear a noticeable improvement in lyrical quality. Whilst Young Thug is at his worst when filling B-sides, he is at his best when shackled by more mainstream collaborators. Preparing a song for the radio with Travis $cott or Kanye West serves to rein Thug in, and enforce a stricter work ethic. Young Thug was the standout on Travis $cott’s Maria I’m Drunk, his signature apparent on the memorable line “call your friends and let’s get druuuunkk.” Similarly, Young Thug earned his spot on the guest-heavy The Life of Pablo, a refreshing break from gospel choirs. On an album curated by a 38-year-old rapper, Young Thug’s was a moment of vitality and an effort to connect with modernity. And who can forget the surprise collaboration of Young Thug, Popcaan and Jamie xx on the dancehall smash I Know There’s Gonna Be Good Times? Thug somehow manages to ride the reggae beat, creating one of the most innovative and memorable hits of the summer.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BjLBB-TMa84&nohtml5=False
People seem to be perfectly split on whether Young Thug is a genius or a moron. Each camp has a variety of reasons for making their choice. Many fans of ‘intellectual hip hop’ cannot abide Young Thug. But just as many of the same fans love him, and can see how he slots in with their own paradigm of what makes hip-hop “intellectual.” There are countless articles on the Internet that make the “for” and “against” case for Young Thug. At the risk of leaving this open-ended I will offer this writer’s opinion. In the course of writing this article, I listened to many, many Young Thug songs. I listened objectively and with an open mind. I think the vast majority of what Young Thug produces is steaming garbage. With occasional flashes of absolute brilliance. His mixtapes are littered with some of the worst songs I’ve ever heard. But when pushed by a collaborator or talented producer, and when Thug expends slightly more energy on the making of a song, he is capable of something both revolutionary and profound. As he collaborates with more respected artists some of his “eccentricity” (read: ineptitude) will be watered down. As Young Thug continues to escape the underground and move further into the mainstream, this brilliance will only become more apparent.
Image: GQ
Ash Shakur is a rapper hailing from South London. Australians can be forgiven for thinking that South London rap is synonymous with the one genre currently saturating our radio waves: grime. Australians took to grime because it offered something both bold and fresh. Now that the love affair is fading, it’s becoming apparent that it’s a hollow form of hip-hop with schoolboy lyricism. Those looking for a touch more sophistication from the Kingston area, look no further.
Where Skepta and his roadmen trot out the same USA clichés whilst struggling to keep the beat, Ash Shakur offers a uniquely British perspective with an effortless flow. It’s nice to have a South London rapper that can actually rap. Ash even subs out the all-black tracksuit that’s dominated UK rap film clips for an aesthetic entirely his own.
In the self-directed film clip for Who Is It?, Ash dons a rainbow Jeremy Scott Adidas Originals puffer jacket. It leaves him looking like a cross between Pharell and Elmer the Patchwork Elephant. As he walks across the dreary estate environment, his jacket adds a dash of much-needed colour and vibrancy. The ensemble is a metaphor for his music. He radiates positivity from even the bleakest setting.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ThniYnYTnxw
Shakur’s EP Hare This is dominated by a concern for positivity and nostalgia. The overall feel of the EP is laconic, effortless and effervescent. Ash raps over a selection of beats prepared by his favourite producers: The Roots, Knxwledge and Whoarei. There is a common theme in beat selection. Ash favours slow, jazzy beats, with a slight trap influence; quavering saxophone and twirling drums. The sound evokes the warm orange glow of a distant and happy memory.
Opening track Spring quickly conjures the warm haze of the eponymous season. Shakur employs that laidback, almost spoken word flow that positively oozes over the beat. Standout track The Groove is slow, wistful and haunting. It shows that Shakur can imitate and expand upon the golden era of hip-hop. It’s a throwback beat with a slight jazz influence that Shakur rides effortlessly. Shakur’s flow achieves that peculiarly 90’s phenomenon of making even the most simple lines punchy, like “I shouldn’t have left you – without a dope beat to step to.” Nokia is Shakur’s literal ode to his Nokia 3310 and everything that was magical about being a teenager in the new millennium- “Nights as a youth, swapping pictures and tunes.” Shakur skirts the line between mundane and profound, “There was only one snake we knew, now days we have seen a few.”
https://soundcloud.com/ashley-shakur/the-groove
But whilst Shakur is effervescent, he is anything but vapid. Shakur shows his ability to meaningfully engage with social and political issues on Rain Falls; which tackles the issue of ‘shadism’ most recently addressed on Kendrick Lamar’s Complexion. Shakur tackles beauty paradigms in his community over an awkward saxophone: “She starts to bleach wanting to turn peach / because you were influenced by the ignorance of the 50 inch screen.” Closing track Smile Daily serves to reiterate Shakur’s overriding ethos – an exultation to follow passions, chase dreams and shine every day.
We can be grateful to Skepta and JME for causing the worlds gaze to fall on South London and its hip-hop scene. It’s maybe a testament to grime that more exceptional London hip-hop is becoming exposed to international attention. Ash Shakur is one such native producing a refreshing brand of South London hip-hop, completely distinct from his grime contemporaries. The grime scene is about making pseudo-gangster rap that piggybacks on tired images appropriated from the USA. Ash Shakur is making hopeful music that actually expresses his London perspective. He describes his surroundings and always extracts a silver lining. He does this with sophisticated lyrics, a boom bap flow, and carefully curated beats. Ash Shakur is a whole new reason to keep a close eye on South London.
Image: Noisey
The Freddie Gibbs show at Max Watt’s in the Melbourne CBD on Saturday, March 12 came at an eerie time. Whilst Gibbs fans were holed up in the underground venue, something strange was happening just outside on Swanston Street. Hundreds of young men had occupied Flinders Street Station and Federation Square. The media is now reporting that the young men were members of a gang from southern Melbourne. Fights erupted between rival gang members in the middle of the street. Police resorted to capsicum spray and batons to break up the fighting.
The confrontation in town was apparently organised to coincide with Moomba festival. The same gangs have been accused of similar antics during Melbourne’s White Night and New Years Eve. Civilians weren’t safe either, with reports of brawlers throwing chairs at bystanders.
ABC news reported that chants could be heard of “fuck the police” and “it’s a public space, we have a right to be here.” Meanwhile, inside the venue, Gibbs used the exact same phrase as his go to call-and-response to incite the crowd. “Say ‘Fuck the Police’” said Gibbs, to which the crowd enthusiastically responded “Fuck the Police!” It was a safe piece of crowd interaction that never failed to excite. When I exited the venue I discovered police standing shoulder to shoulder to block off access to Flinders Street Station. Hundreds of young men stood on Swanston Street just outside Max Watts. A friend of mine approached a young guy and asked him for a lighter. My friend asked him what he thought of the Freddie Gibbs concert. The young man hadn’t been to the concert. He was keenly looking out for members of a rival gang and the policeman responsible for hitting his 16-year-old friend.
Police block off access to Flinders Street Station.
The surrounding events gave a strange context to the concert. Was Melbourne becoming more hip-hop?
When I first arrived at Max Watts at 10pm and saw the venue at half capacity, I was unsurprised. Freddie Gibbs is an underground rapper from Gary, Indiana. He isn’t signed to a record label and has technically only released two studio albums. When Freddie Gibbs finally walked onto the stage, a totally packed and raucous Melbourne crowd greeted him. He didn’t get the reception of an underground rapper, but of an international celebrity. These were the hard-core die-hard fans, who had been responsible for keeping his career underground thriving for 8 years. From where I stood toward the back, a group of four young girls easily recited every lyric to Freddie’s entire catalogue. Oddly enough, they seemed to be more familiar with his older music, than his new, more critically celebrated music. They had been fans since the beginning. A fact that Freddie pointed out when 2012 track BFK received a tremendous response from the crowd.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4qgtQBXTI0s
The benefit of a Freddie Gibbs concert is that it is high-energy hard-core gangster rap from beginning to end. There are no slow songs. Live rap suffers from the problem of being impossibly boring if you don’t know all the lyrics. But the banging bass and spinning trap beats kept the whole crowd constantly on their feet. The crowd absolutely ate up Freddie’s more brutal song selections. There was something comical about seeing 500 white people determinedly return the refrain from Rearview “so many player hating n*ggas, trying to sound like us.” The influence of trap on Freddie’s new music ensured that most songs had a scary power to them. Fans jumped to the surprise Young Thug/Freddie Gibbs collaboration Old English and its frightening trap beat.
One particularly cringeworthy moment occurred when a young and very skinny white guy managed to climb his way onto stage. Security contemplated what to do, and then rather gently pushed him off the edge and back into the crowd. When Freddie had finished the song, he invited the crasher back on stage. It was a tense moment. I couldn’t help but think of the footage of Akon doing the same thing – inviting a fan on stage, only to literally lift him up over his head and throw him off.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7FPESUPCabY
On mic, Freddie asked the fan why he had jumped up on stage. “Because you’re a fucking G,” replied the young dude, lamely. It was cringeworthy, but you could tell that Freddie was genuinely touched. Freddie Gibbs is not someone who takes his fame for granted. He appreciates how remarkable it is that a 19 year old from Melbourne, Australia is paying for the music of a 33 year old rapper from Gary, Indiana. “I love you dog,” Freddie replied, before adding, “you almost got fucked up.”
But clearly amongst the crowd were also strewn the keen aficionados of underground rap. The fans of MF Doom or Earl Sweatshirt. Who had likely never heard of Freddie Gibbs before his unlikely partnership with the mad-genius producer Madlib on Pinata. A group of hipster fans passed a vinyl copy of the LP for Freddie to sign on stage. He obliged. He knows full well how this album was responsible for doubling his fan base and affirming his status as a king of the underground. The erratic Madlib sound of Thuggin and Deeper somehow worked over the speaker system. These were the lightest moments of the concert. The sweeter instrumentals contrasting with Freddie’s fearsome lyrics.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vbxcPy1qJTU
On several occasions Freddie asked the audience to put their lighters in the air. A move like this is normally clichéd. Except for the fact that the sheer number of fans (and smokers) meant that the number of lighters completely illuminated the room to stunning effect. An encore of the new Boi-1da produced Fuckin’ Up the Count sent the crowd into overdrive. “MELBOURNE! You the loudest motherfuckers in the whole world!” Freddie told his zealot fans. It’s a platitude trotted out by most performers, but again, I think he really meant it.
The fact that the underground sensation Freddie Gibbs received such an overwhelming response showed that Melbourne is a city with a keen ear for hip-hop. Not only does it have a discerning taste for experimental hip-hop, but also a primal love for gangster rap, with it’s brutal lyrics and thumping bass. With this adoration for undiscovered gangster rappers, and gang violence in the CBD, is it time to move straight outta Melbourne?
Freddie Gibbs is something of a hip-hop chameleon. On the surface, Freddie Gibbs is a hardcore rap purist in the Tupac vein. He produces a brand of old school gangster rap that seems to be fast fading. Despite this, his name is regularly mentioned alongside rappers like MF DOOM or Mac Miller – people ten years his junior, who produce notably varied, softer rap. At 33 and proudly inedpendent, Gibbs knows the importance of staying relevant. From crunk bangers with Young Jeezy to scratchy soulful throwbacks with Danny Brown, Gibbs knows how to adapt.
Touring his second album released on his own label ESGN, Freddie has asserted himself as a king of the underground. Sitting in the green room gearing up for his second ever Melbourne show, we sat down for face to face chat with Freddie us just moments before taking to the stage.
Do you have a pre-show ritual?
Shit. Drink. Smoke. As much as possible.
What about post-show?
Exactly the same man.
Speaking of smoking. The Australian government has just announced that it’s going to legalise growing marijuana for medicinal purposes. Could you maybe describe your own Freddie Kane OG strain to your Australian fans?
Well it’s only grown in California. You know, so you only got to come to California to get it man. It’s definitely one of the most high-powered OG strains in the world.
What’s the best setting for smoking Freddie Kane?
Oh shit. At home. While you on your couch. So you won’t hurt nobody.
Do you think one day we’ll be able to have it over here in Australia?
Man it’s crazy. Whenever we able to uh, you know, ship some over. You know what I mean. If your government wants to make that possible then sure, I want to ship that over and have all Freddie Kane flavours.
Growing up in Gary, did you ever think you’d make it to Melbourne, Australia?
Uhh, not at all. Nah I never thought I’d come to Australia. I never though I’d be here like this. So I definitely don’t take it for granted. It’s a blessing.
Because you never wanted to be a rapper?
Nah it’s just something that came about. I just went about it. I went about it all the way, and all the way hard.
Because you played college football.
For a year. Before I got kicked out of school.
You always knew you wanted to make it out of Gary, but you didn’t know how?
Yeah I just didn’t know which way to go. But I figured it out, and now I got my dream job.
I think that Australians have a real appetite for underground hip-hop. Has being part of that scene given you more of an international presence?
Yeah, because I’m kind of one of the top dogs in that scene. I think that people like to root for underdogs. I just do what I want to do, that’s what attracts me. I don’t follow any kind of music industry rules. I might not be the most popular rapper, but I don’t care. As long as I’m still in the game making millions of dollars.
For sure. And in places like Australia underground rappers are almost more commercially viable than mainstream rappers. Because that’s the sound we like over here.
Yeah
I think a lot of Australians would have come to your work through Pinata. Did doing that album with Madlib open up a new demographic of fans for you?
Yeah definitely, I would say so. He definitely had a different set of fans that I didn’t have. And bringing what he had to the table, to the project, you know it definitely set me up. I always say that doing that album set me up for the rest of my career.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vbxcPy1qJTU
Absolutely. For an underground album it charted very well. Speaking of which, you have a group of really hardcore fans. How do you get that cult following?
You get that cult following by staying true to yourself. You know, never conforming. Always staying true. The people that support you in the beginning. Those people they watch your growth. The real hard-core fans. They know when we growing, when we trying to change up on them. I just walk that line. Keep that balance.
Do you think you risk alienating your hardcore fans if you do things like chase radio play?
You know what, I don’t really know what that is really, chasing radio play. I just make songs. All that shit is oblivious to me. I just make records. Stay relevant. As long as I’m relevant to the game that’s all that matters. As long as my music is relevant to the game, it’s needed. I’m glad you can never put me in a box.
Well you are one of the most adaptable rappers around. Really versatile career. Pinata was completely different to anything you had put out before. Is there a change in direction on Shadow of a Doubt?
Yeah there’s definitely a change in direction. I didn’t want to make the same album that I did with Pinata. I can only make that with Madlib. Basically, making an album with Madlib made me sharper lyrically.
His beats are so hard to fit.
Right. So I can go in on tracks on Shadow of a Doubt and spit, you know what I mean. I’m the most versatile rapper out. I can do a song like Careless and in turn I can do a song like Extradite.
And you play across both sides of the game. You can do a song with Ransom, and you can do a song with Young Thug. Speaking of Shadow of a Doubt, that album was released on your label ESGN – how important is independence for you?
It’s super important. I mean shit man, I sold crack to get here. I sold heroin to get here. Before everybody closed the door on me. Nobody wanted to help me out. No label wanted to give me a situation. I had to do everything I had to do get me where I’m at. So now I own everything. And now I’m on a world tour. Without a record label. Without a radio hit. Without anything. That speaks volumes to the type of work I do. It’s quality work.
Do you think nowadays it’s better for a musician to be independent? It’s become easier to have independence – having a record deal means less now?
Way less. And I think that I’ve been of the key people, I’ve been at the forefront, of devaluing the record label – so to speak. When everybody wanted to sign me, that was great for me. But who knows, if I had signed – I took hella meetings. Hundreds. In the past 5 or 6 years. Hundreds of label meetings. Every fucking month. But if I was to sign with one of them, I wouldn’t be in the position I am in right now.
The longevity of your career as well. You haven’t burnt out.
Yeah. I could go for another 20 years, all because I didn’t sign with a record label.
On that, do you think future rappers are going to copy the Freddie Gibbs formula of independence?
I think a lot of people already are. Guys like Lyor Cohen and Tod Mascowitz and all, they admire my tactics. They tried to sign me too, so they know my tactics. I think they implement a little bit of that into their record label that they have at 300 [Entertainment] man. The things they do with Fetty Wap, and you know, Young Thug. Like I said, I burst out here you know ’08, ’09 and in 2010 I was on the XXL cover – all of that came from tactics that people are using today. With the Internet. With putting out the free music. I created a lot of that.
Speaking of tactics and sales and independence – was the November release date of Shadow of a Doubt part of a strategy to release outside the normal sales periods?
Me releasing it in November, that was just me wanting to put some music out. At the end of the year, I just think the world needed some more Freddie Gibbs music. And I got a tour off it, so I mean, shit, me putting that out was kind of critical. It’s all about timing. Putting a piece of music out there, as a businessman, it worked out perfectly. The album’s selling well, so it’s doing good.
Talking about Shadow of a Doubt, one track really stood out for me which you mentioned before – and that’s Extradite. At the end of the song you’ve included a sample from a Louis Farrakhan speech given at Morgan State University. I know you’ve got a Huey Newton tattoo on your back. How important is it to have leaders like Louis in America right now?
It’s always important to have leaders. We can do everything that we gon’ do, but we can’t stop that ultimate power man… The government is a filthy beast. And we just got to stand strong.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LJbZDu87Zqc
The traditional hip hop capitals – like New York, LA and Atlanta – have had gangster rap for a long time. But do you think 2016 that the realest struggle and the realest gangsters are actually in the mid-west?
There’s real gangsters in the mid-west. But there’s real gangsters everywhere. West Coast, East Coast. I’ve been living in LA for over 10 years. So I’m kind of part of that scene right now too. I’m kind of from there too.
I’m thinking of Lakers off Pinata – was moving to LA a different kind of hustle for you, to go over there and make your mark all over again?
Yeah, I definitely had to compete with the LA artists at that point. I was a big fish in a small pond, but I had to go to LA and then really I had to become a big fish over there. It’s definitely competitive, but I embraced that. The whole of California. The thing’s that I’ve done with rap, being so versatile, being able to rap with Jeezy, I feel like I kind of erased the geographical boundaries of rap. That’s what I feel. I mean shit, the best rapper in the game, ain’t even from America. He’s from Toronto.
Once there was a distinct southern sound. But now with the Internet a lot of those sounds are combining. Is there a Gary sound?
I don’t make the Gary sound. I make the Freddie Gibbs sound. My sound is very non-geographical.
Speaking of your sound, you’ve sung before, but there are some serious Freddie Gibbs vocals on this album. I’m thinking in particular of Careless and Basketball Wives. When did you realise you could sing?
Hell yeah. I don’t know, it really was just singing in the shower. But I been constructing those kinds of melodies from the beginning.
Did you know you could sing growing up in Gary?
Yeah. But I’m not a singer. I just know how to write melodies and things like that. I had been doing those style records before, they were just not being put on the forefront. I was doing things like County Bounce on Midwestgangstaboxframecadillacmuzik. I was singing because I couldn’t afford to hire a singer for my tracks. I kind of trained myself to do it. Because I do it in such a way that fits today’s style of music. Guys like Nelly, and Bone-Thugs-N-Harmony, they sort paved the way for that kind of style. That to me was the style right there.
I read a quote that said your singing qualifies you to be the 6th member of Bone Thugs-N-Harmony.
Right. That’s what I’m saying. When I do that, the influence is from there.
Again. Growing up in Gary – did you ever imagine one day you’d be laying vocals over the beat from George Michael’s Amazing?
Wow, Nah I didn’t know that! I never thought about that. Wow, that’s crazy – when we did that record, I didn’t even know that was George Michael at first.
No way! So when are we getting some visuals for Careless?
Real soon.
Have you thought about doing a George Michael, and getting some models in to rap the entire film clip?
That’d be tight. That’s a good idea man, hell yeah! Thanks for giving me that. That would be dope as fuck.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=k8qnh6h1dxU
You can catch Freddie Gibbs at Golden Plains Festival in Victoria from March 12 to March 14. You can get tickets here.
Freddie’s second studio album Shadow of a Doubt is available for purchase on iTunes and available for streaming on Spotify.
On February 15 Kanye West took to Twitter to announce that his latest album, The Life of Pablo, would be made available exclusively on Tidal.
https://twitter.com/kanyewest/status/699376240709402624
This was seen as disappointing to many fans who were either not comfortable with the idea of a monthly subscription, or more simply, because they prefer the feel of a hardcopy.
However the announcement has some interesting and unforeseen implications. Because the The Life of Pablo can only be streamed via Tidal, it’s impossible to determine where it would chart on the Billboard 200. This is due to a lack of determinable data, rather than a rule that makes albums released through streaming services ineligible.
Billboard’s vice president of charts and data development Silvio Pietroloungo revealed that Billboard had “been informed that Tidal is not currently reporting streams for tracks on Kanye’s album to Nielsen Music. Therefore streams from Tidal for this title will not contribute to Billboard’s chart rankings at this time.”
This effect has been observed before, when Rihanna released her latest album ANTI. For it’s first week, ANTI was available only on Tidal. It was only when ANTI was released on more conventional platforms that it began to climb up the Billboard charts. This led to a weak polling and a lack of industry confidence in the new Rihanna album.
Unlike Rihanna, Kanye West is simply choosing not to share his streaming stats with Nielsen Music. Some doubters believe this is because Kanye refuses to post less than amazing numbers. Given the total overhaul in the way music is made available in the past few years, polling has become increasingly unpredictable. It is entirely possible for a mainstream proven entity to poll poorly. On the other hand, you can have a “viral” phenomenon like Drake’s If You’re Reading This It’s Too Late selling 500,000 copies in it’s first week, without any kind of marketing.
This is not to say that Kanye’s album is not in high demand. It’s has been downloaded illegally an estimated 500,000 times. Of course, this number has been drummed up, because of the fact that it is not actually possible to buy the album. So even the meek and gentle are forced into a life of piracy.
Further, it has boosted the power and profile of Tidal enormously. In a tweet West urged fans and “music lovers” to sign up for Tidal.
https://twitter.com/kanyewest/status/699376319285465088
West promised that a Tidal subscription would yield more than just access to the exclusive TLOP. West boasted of much more music from the G.O.O.D Friday series, including an alleged 40 new collaborations with Kendrick Lamar and Young Thug.
Thanks to the success of TLOP, Tidal shot to the top of the app charts, a fact Kanye was quick to point out.
https://twitter.com/kanyewest/status/699089796690534401
There’s been heavy speculation as to why Kanye has chosen to launch TLOP exclusively through Tidal. Of course, Kanye has a close working relationship with owner Jay-Z, and it’s likely that Kanye hoped to boost the profile of the smallest commercial streaming service. But perhaps the better answer is that Kanye West is an equity owner in Tidal. It’s possible he would make more money by taking a bigger slice of Tidal’s smaller profits, then he would taking a tiny royalty from Apple or Spotify’s countless downloads.
This recent success has come at a good time for Tidal. In 2015 an anonymous survey of 50 music executives showed that 71 precent of respondents thought that Tidal would be dead in less than a year. Another 17 precent said it would only last two more years. Only 12 precent thought that Tidal would be here to stay.
Image: The Independent
If there’s one thing a young Jewish girl needs to know as she makes that magical transition into womanhood, it’s this: if you repeatedly call a man for late night sex, then abruptly cease that habit, he’ll be left wondering whether you’re recreating the same sex acts that he developed with you, with a completely different man.
This was exactly the message rapper Drake crooned to one lucky 13-year-old girl, when he performed his smash hit Hotline Bling at her private bat mitzvah in New York City. The young girl’s family must have had some serious shekels to afford to hire out the prestigious Rainbow Room at 30 Rockefeller Plaza, and pay Drake to do his classic shtick. Drizzy delivered his performance with plenty of chutzpah, proving that he is the greatest rapper alive, and making Kendrick look like a shmendrik.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0w3iYqd6x-0
The rapper also performed a number of other tunes, including Summer Sixteen and his remix of Fetty Wap‘s My Way:
Drake performing "My Way" at a bat mitzvah tonight in NYC. pic.twitter.com/yD9tk9T8rJ
— Word On Road (@WordOnRd) February 21, 2016
Drake performing "Back To Back" at a bat mitzvah last night in NYC. pic.twitter.com/6Sb02JknxQ
— Word On Road (@WordOnRd) February 21, 2016
Drake performing "Summer Sixteen" at a bat mitzvah last night in NYC. pic.twitter.com/Vq2sOS79LE
— Word On Road (@WordOnRd) February 21, 2016
Drake is of course, no stranger to the ceremony. Drake is the son of an African-American from Tennessee and a white Jewish Canadian. Drake has often proudly referenced his Jewish heritage. In a 2009 interview with Paul Rosenberg, Drake revealed that his own bat mitzvah took place in an Italian restaurant with I Want It That Way by the Backstreet Boys blaring in the background. Drake recreated a slightly cooler bat mitzvah in his video clip for HYFR, in which the Toronto rapper reaffirmed his commitment to the Jewish faith. It even has a pre-Snapchat DJ Khaled sitting serenely in a synagogue pew nodding in approval.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?time_continue=106&v=0KCWqnldEag
Although some might say that Drake’s religious values have been lax of late. The Torah tells us be slow to anger. Yet, he hit Meek Mill with two consecutive and merciless diss tracks. The Torah teaches pacifism. And whilst crazy bigots may blame the death of Christ on the Jewish people, there can be no doubt that Drake truly crucified Meek Mill.
Drake has long pined for gangster cred. And now he finally has it. He’s a member of the Jewish mafia.