Drake has been more than fulfilling his contractual obligations to Apple’s Beats 1 Radio with his OVO Sound show, managing to drop new exclusives virtually every week. Drake has already provided us with the new Majid Jordan track My Love, not to mention two Meek Mill diss tracks (the subtle Charged Up and the not-so-subtle Back To Back). In the 5th instalment of OVO Sound, Drake freestyles over the beat of The Weeknd’s Tell Your Friends, the third track from Abel’s sophomore album Beauty Behind the Madness. It’s a natural marriage, with the sounds of the two Canadians blending seamlessly. It’s classic Drake – an ode to growing from relationships, “e-e-evolving” he croons. But the song might also be reference to new beau Serena Wlliams, as it does seem to address a very specific woman. “The balls in your court” and “your too famous to buy you purses” might be directly flagging the world number one tennis star. Tell Your Friends features smooth production from Kanye West and is a natural fit for Drake’s vocals. As the rider tells us, the track was recorded live from the Waldorf in Berlin. Apple are absolutely putting Drizzy to work.
Have a listen here:
Whatever you do, don’t let the dollar signs fool you.
Travi$ Scott was about to play a listening session of his debut album Rodeo at the Up & Down club in New York, when a comment by a fan hit home.
The footage was captured by those guardians of culture – TMZ. In the clip, Scott is heading towards the club, flanked by flashing cameras and fans. One fan has the poor sense to yell out “A$AP Rocky!” Not a good call. Even if the artist had been A$AP Rocky, having his own name yelled out at him was hardly going to end with the two becoming best friends. Not wanting to let that slide, Travis does a 180, comes back from the club and snaps “Not motherfuckin’ A$AP Bitch.” La Flame’s quick reaction seems to suggest this isn’t the first time he has been mistaken for Lord Flacko.
Do you file this as a racist Miley Cyrus-esque “all you people look alike” gaffe? Or is it a more forgiveable comparison because both artists have braided hair and dollar signs on their names?
Either way, nothing can ever be as appalling as this:
More: A$AP Rocky’s At. Long. Last. A$AP album review
The story of King Los is a pure embodiment of hip-hop. His father, a cable man, was murdered when he was just 16. Growing up in the brutal streets of Baltimore, the hood took him in and he was soon raised by drug king pins. As a high school student, Los, then known as Carlos Coleman, began writing poetry to help deal with the pain of his father’s murder.
Rapping since 1999, Los is no newcomer. P. Diddy signed him to Bad Boy Records in 2005. But the Baltimore entourage that he brought with him – a collection of career criminals – made it difficult for him to do business. As an independent artist he released a mammoth 15 mix tapes, including the highly acclaimed Becoming King.
Los is a hip-hop purist. Clearly not taking any shortcuts, the dedication to his craft can be seen in his mind-blowing freestyles. The freestyle he delivered on Sway’s Five Fingers of Death quickly became acknowledged as an instant classic. He can really, really rap. He earned the praise of Kendrick Lamar for his relentless freestyle over the rappers controversial Control track.
Signed now to RCA Records, King Los has released his first studio album GodMoneyWar. It has elements of the modern hip-hop album, in the A.L.LA.-mode. Minimal beats and cerebral themes. At other times, it’s “broccoli in a Louis Vuitton box” – introspective raps dressed up as trap bangers. And there’s also bars. Lots and lots of bars. Some of the finest wordplay your likely to find anywhere, Eminem-style alliteration and double time rapping. It’s a diverse affair that can be played from the college campus to the club.
Speaking to him, Los has a sunny disposition for a rapper. The presence of his religion means everything he says is sweet and profound. He’s deserving of Meek Mill’s description as the “nicest rapper in the game.”
How hard is it to keep it political and keep it turnt?
Well, that’s real life. I mean at the same time we politicise and we talk and we deal with one another, and we see what’s going on socially around the entire world, and it’s not necessarily good stuff. But we also go to the club and we have fun. You have to be able to balance it man.
The song Slave comes to mind. It’s got a really big trap beat, but the message is very political. It’s got a Future-style beat, but it’s all about the pitfalls of materialism.
I didn’t want this project to be about me being better than people. When I did Slave I spoke about my own slavish mentality. If I can identify it within myself, then we shouldn’t have a problem talking about it. I’m involving myself, I’m not excluding myself and calling you out. That’s why I said “my rolly got me pussy whipped” – like I talked about certain materialistic things. That’s the slave mentality, and where we come from.
You, Kendrick Lamar, Run the Jewels, even A$AP Rocky – do you think consciousness and lyricism in hip-hop has become cool again?
I think It was always cool you know. What happens is like; the more conscious [fans] are the biggest fucking hypocrites. People who like other types of music like Future, stepped up and supported it. Fans need to support conscious artists, so that they can have a platform to the shift the culture a little bit so it won’t be so one sided. The people who love to go clubbing, who love Future, they’re coming out to support. It’s not that it got cool again, it’s always been cool, but people are afraid to support it because they’re not certain of themselves.
The film clip for Ghetto Boy, the film clip for War – they’re both very powerful. How important is it for Baltimore to have a hip hop voice, and have its own hip-hop success story right now?
Well for one thing, we’ve never had it. It’s the city that needs constant reassurance. It’s a place where there’s not an extreme amount of success for you to visually capture. You don’t have much but the streets to confide with. We need constant reassurance. We need to win Superbowls, we need basketball teams. We need to say “that’s ours.” When the Ravens won – there was like no crime. People were so happy and so elated to be part of something so special. We need that constant reassurance and that’s why its important that I do well.
One of the most amazing moments on the record is having your son on it. How important is the idea of fatherhood to you and particularly where you come from?
It’s extremely important. Think about what a dad means to a household. We need that stability, that rock to be in the home sometimes. You need a protector, not just as a son, your dad has to the be the protector of your mother. Momma can’t do it alone God bless her sweet soul. Not even just as a son. Even your mum. Your dad has to the protector of your mother. We need men in the community, we need men in the streets, men in the army, in the government. We need men to be there and women to balance that. Soft, sweeter, more nurturing. The father is extremely important.
The record is GOD – MoneyWar – what would you say about the place of religion in hip-hop today?
I think god is bigger than he’s ever been. It might not be to everyone’s liking, it may not be sitting with everyone’s perception of god. But god is extremely present right now, and you know he’s in rap, he’s in the filthiest rap. The most gangster rap. People appreciate god in all his forms and I don’t think its fair to only respect the most righteous form, because at the end of the day a sin is a sin. We’re all guilty and we need to be cleansed with his love. At the end of the day god is really really strong. What we have to do is unite. From the United States to Australia, to China to Egypt to South America. We don’t need to be foreign to each other. Everyone has their own way of relating to god, but we need to get together to find out how to relate to each other.
The album GodMoneyWar is available on iTunes now and it is absolutely cranking.
Are you a hip-hop head? Have you got an IQ of 80 but a rapgenius 1Q of 88,210? Do you know all the words to the Eminem and Proof car freestyle? Have lyrics been so thoroughly embedded in your brain that even when the Alzheimer’s kicks in you won’t Forgot About Dre? Are you the kind of person who can’t remember their PIN number but can remember the LAPD code for homicide? Do you mutter the sample from Bring Da Ruckus in public under your breath? (En garde, I’ll let you try my Wu-Tang style). Have you ever been to a party, laughed, and said “oh there’s just no way I could still remember the second verse from 50 Cent and Olivia’s Best Friend after all these years” and then proceed to prove yourself wrong in front of a girl you just met? Have you ever found yourself in the smoker’s room of Revs trying to remember the first line of Kanye West’s New Day, and just like, being completely unable to – even though those words have been permanently burned into your cerebral cortex, because a fundamental synapse has been severed? Have you ever wanted to live out that fantasy that plays over and over in your head, where Earl Sweatshirt looks into the crowd and asks “alright, does anyone know this next verse?” and suddenly your eyes lock? Then ‘Hip Hop Karaoke’ at Melbourne’s Boney might be for you.
Hip Hop Karaoke is the ultimate opportunity for any would-be MC to spit straight borrowed flames over their favourite tracks in front of an ecstatic crowd. This is a very polished affair. The quality of the performers is so good that the crowd bounces to legitimate live music. So make sure you’re better prepared than this guy –
We chatted to Tom from Burn in Time about his absolutely cracking creation. If you love hip hop. If you love yourself. You’ll get down to Boney in Melbourne on the first Thursday of every month.
Where did the idea for Hip Hop Karaoke come from and how did you guys kick off?
I’m from Toronto, I moved to Melbourne two and a half years ago. After a couple of months I started fiending for hip hop. It exists in some places. Cafes are bumping hip hop. But when you go to a night-out, you can go to someplace and yeahhh it’s almost there. Not a lot of soul. It’s just the hits. And don’t get me wrong I love the hits, and I’ll play Christina Aguilera for sure. But those sorts of places aren’t socially inclusive. There’s dudes trying to grind up on girls. That really gritty shit. I like grimey. But that’s too grimey. I was fiending for hip hop. I was trying to find it and eventually I just gave up. I started speaking to people about music and so many people in Melbourne all wanted the same thing. Hip Hop Karaoke happens everywhere. It happens in Toronto. And for some reason it just doesn’t happen here. Even though so many Australians are into it.
The performers were all of serious quality. It felt like an actual concert. You guys don’t provide the lyrics for your performers – is this event not for beginners?
The thing about karaoke is that karaoke is terrible. It sucks. The only time it’s good is if a person is really good at singing. And if someone goes to karaoke they probably aren’t good at singing. If they were good, they’d be somewhere better. The only joy people get out of karaoke is the person actually doing it.
I was so surprised because I genuinely wanted to hear the next performer, because they were legitimately good and I wanted to hear live rap.
I’m a terrible singer. You can be tone deaf and rap. It’s a rhythmic art, as long as you can carry the flow, and that comes from listening to it a bunch of times. Then you just mimic people’s voices, rather than hit a note. It is a beginner thing, none of these people are rappers. They just liked a song so much they have memorised all these words and actually wanted to perform it. Some people are better than others for sure sure. But for the most part everyone nails it and the formula is very acceptable for everyone.
Right – everyone has that one rap song that we’ve spent hours painstakingly memorising. And then we think, ‘what a complete waste of time.’
Right. It’s like all those nights rapping Wu Tang have finally paid off.
We’ve all seen 8 mile. Hip hop is naturally competitive. It’s about being the best. How much do you just want to boo B-Rabbit out the Shelter if he’s a choke artist?
We want to preach a socially inclusive atmosphere that people will come to. That’s what hip-hop stands for when you look at back at how it started in the Bronx in the late 70s. This one performer forgot a line on a Tupac song. He was embarrassed, but we got him back up, helped him along, got the crowd behind him. This is definitely a place where people feel safe.
You have some rules of the event.
3 rules. All hip-hop karaoke nights have these rules:
No freestyling. It’s a way of not promoting oneself. Promoting the song, making sure everyone is having fun. A song that everyone loves is a good thing. This isn’t a stage to promote yourself or your mixtape.
No racial slurs. The n-word is featured a lot in hip-hop culture. Mot of the time when it’s said it’s not meant to be a slur. However, being conscience that we’re in Australia and primarily a white nation – saying that word as a white artist – can be interpreted in a very racially changed way.
No homophobic slurs. It happens more rarely in hip-hop. Some of those artists aren’t intending to be homophobic, but we’re trying to preach inclusion.
What makes a good song selection, what gets the crowd going?
When we started it was 90’s definitely. Big Poppa, anything off Illmatic. But now we’re seeing more new school tracks – these three chicks did Trophies by Drake, I did not expect that, they were absolutely amazing. It comes down to the energy of the performer and what they put into it. People actually have to practice. Learn the flow of the song and do it with the instrumental beat. There’s not really any kind of song I would not recommend doing. But interestingly, we’re in Australia and in a year and half of running this, there’s never been an Aussie rap done.
If someone asked to do some Aussie hip-hop, what would you think?
I mean…ahhhh. I mean. I’m not. It’s. Ahhh. No comment.
Hip Hop Karaoke happens at Boney in Melbourne on the first Thursday of every month. September 3rd is the next jam. It’s amazing. Make this a reality.
Dear Earl,
I know that as a fan you don’t owe me anything. Paying the admission price for your concerts does not give me a stake in your identity. But still, you’re breaking my heart.
I’m worried about you. Your new album is dark and disconcerting. I can remember a time before the Xanax, and before you fell in with a bad crowd (you stay away from him Vincent Staples, you are a bad influence!) A time when you liked some things, and weren’t adverse to the outdoors. Your raps were fast and buoyant and you obeyed time signatures. You rapped almost exclusively about murder. It was a simpler time. Now your raps are languorous, the beats are non-music and your rhymes are introspective and cerebral. Of course a part of me knew you couldn’t remain a bellicose youngster forever. I just didn’t think you would grow up so quick…
And then there was that Twitter rant against your most loyal fan base. The people who have stuck by you from the very beginning. Probably the first instance in history where a performer has referred to his own fans as “male virgins.” Imagine if other public figures said that about their fans!? There would be outcry. Could you picture the creators of World of Warcraft or My Little Pony the Rocky movies saying that about their fans?
And then you attacked the very specific dress sense of your followers – which is of course, totally inspired by the fashion of Tyler the Creator. “STOP DRESSING LIKE AN EASTER BASKET, GO TALK TO SOME BITCHES” you tweeted, assumedly referring to this particular ensemble (available online for $129.00USD).
Hey. I spent a lot of money on those clothes. Having spent the better part of my teenage years dressed as an Easter Basket, I resent that.
And then you punched that fan in Sydney. Don’t get me wrong: you had every right to do that. It’s clear that guy has done more for the term “fuck boy” than Michael Jackson. He invaded your personal space and you removed him. But I still can’t escape the feeling that this is something you had wanted to do for a long time….
And now there’s talk that you’ll even change your name. Changing your name means completely abandoning the identity so many had grown to love. For me, ‘Earl Sweatshirt’ is the greatest hip-hop moniker of all time. It’s pure hip hop. It has a David Lynch quality to it – a perfect combination of the banal and the absurd. Part dull, part remarkable. It parodies the Kanye West tradition of using ones real name to create authenticity. Is Earl his real name? Is this a character or the man himself? No, it’s the ultimate character, the greatest rap character of all time. The name has skate connotations, it’s witty, and has a beautiful cadence. In your transition to artiste I’m guessing you will go the way of Childish Gambino, and just adopt you real name, Thebe Kgositsile, to showcase your maturity. It makes sense I guess. I’m not angry. Just sad.
I liked the old Earl Sweatshirt. I’m scared of what you’re becoming.
(Just FYI – we’re fuckin’ around. We love ya, Earl.)
Like most people, I’ve always dreamed of listening to a song where a voice actor deftly portrays a hogtied and gagged Kanye West locked in the trunk of a car. CyHi The Prynce’s incendiary new diss track Elephant in the Room does exactly that.
CyHi was one of the most promising members of Yeezy’s G.O.O.D Music Roster. CyHi absolutely murdered his guest verse on My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy stand-out track So Appalled, besting the likes of Pusha T, Jay-Z and even Kanye himself. Since signing with Kanye, CyHi has put out an impressive nine mixtapes, most recently the cerebral and politically conscious Black Hystori Project 2: NAACP. But still no G.O.O.D music studio album.
Hence the Elephant in the Room. CyHi is pissed as hell that he’s been forced to claw out an existence as a respected indie artist whilst signed to one of the major hip hop labels. Fair deuce. CyHi is done with Yeezy’s Keeping up with the Kardashians procrastinating. “While you’re in your little Lambo on Sunset, I’m riding with a gun next to me and it sounds like a little boy playing with a drum set / And, it holds a hundred rounds ’cause when you come around, n*ggas quick to gun you down.”
But some keen observers called shenanigans when they noticed the diss track cover art still bore the G.O.O.D. Music logo and was even shared by Pusha T on Twitter. Fast-forward to the present day, as CyHi has announced his debut album L.I.O.N , accompanied by a G.O.O.D. Music hashtag. Confirming suspicions that the diss track was really a publicity stunt, CyHi shared a series of tweets that compared the threats against Kanye to those made by Eminem against Dr. Dre on My Name Is and The Real Slim Shady.
A new film clip, thought to be the first single off the new album, shows CyHi sporting a pair of Yeezy Boosts. Now, maybe the shoes are just so comfortable that he cant stop wearing them despite warring with their creator. The better view is that him and Yeezy are all G.O.O.D.
Hip hop is dead. It’s a sentiment regularly expressed by the more jaded, older members of the hip-hop intelligentsia. Angered by the growing commercialisation of rap music, pioneer and living legend Nas made the proclamation back in 2006.
Melbourne rapper Ur Boy Bangs is equally frustrated by the ill health of hip hop in 2015. I don’t want to put words in Bangs’ mouth here, but I can only assume he is referring to rappers like Chief Keef and the trap movement; with its emphasis on simplistic rhymes that laud the party lifestyle. A far cry from the political and cerebral rhymes of the early 90’s. Bangs is nothing if not a student of history with a love for nostalgia. Songs like Take U To Da Movies and Take U For A Dinner conjure memories of a simpler time, dominated by antiquated notions of male chivalry and etiquette.
Hip Hop is Dead is Bang’s third major diss track. Only last week the Melbournian took aim at TV gremlin Jimmy Fallon, perfectly expressing a sentiment about Fallon’s show that I had felt for years- Do Not Watch. Bangs’ raps were lucid, and again showcased to the world that he is a performer that has something that Fallon does not. A sense of humour. (In fact, we put together together a list of artists more deserving of Fallon’s criticism than Bangs – check that out here.)
This time Bangs sets his sights on larger prey. G.O.A.T-contender and rap warmonger, Drake. In the last week, Drake has become embroiled in a feud with a pathetic rapper more famous for dating Nicki Minaj and fighting on Twitter than any of his actual raps, and also with Bangs. It will be interesting to see how Drizzy splits his time between responding to Meek Mill’s Wanna Know and Bangs’ Hip Hop Is Dead. While both tracks I would say are of similar quality, Bangs’ has more character. As a direct competitor, Drake is an obvious target for Bangs: both are rapper-cum-singers, with Bangs providing the haunting vocals on Take U To Da Movies.
But Bangs doesn’t just target Drake. “Eminem calls himself the rap god, Tyga calls himself the last king, bullshit… Meek Mill, Wale, know what I say? I’m trying to kill all of youse in one day.” Hip hop heads will quickly draw parallels between Hip Hop is Dead and Kendrick Lamar’s controversial Control verse – where K.Dot unabashedly name-checks the canon of commercial rappers. Both verses are intentionally provocative and explore the theme of the unquenchable thirst for competition. Like Kendrick, Bangs does not fear the talents of Drake or Eminem; rather, they spurn him on.
Coming off the back of his momentous third album Love Story, Alabama rapper Yelawolf has blessed Australian fans with the announcement of a national tour! Love Story is by far Yelawolf’s most accomplished record, “something special for music lovers,” that seamlessly blends the best of the sounds of the Deep South with hip-hop and pop. The album is something of a modern classic and a must for hip-hop heads, even if it might stray a little far from the well-beaten track. Yelawolf’s serious skills as a singer make any live show essential viewing. Nothing like the garbled muttering of most live rap. He’s a musician first and foremost.
Born as Michael Wayne Atha, there aren’t many rappers out there who draw comparisons to both Outkast and Lynyrd Skynyrd. Needless to say, this is not a show to be missed.
The chance to see one of the best indie rappers alive is great news for Australians, oft neglected by the underground rap circuit.
Tickets go on sale Friday August 7. Yelawolf will be blowing the roof off of:
AUSTRALIAN TOUR DATES
THE MET, BRISBANE
SATURDAY DECEMBER 5
MAX WATT’S, MELBOURNE
WEDNESDAY DECEMBER 9
METRO THEATRE, SYDNEY
THURSDAY DECEMBER 10
VILLA NIGHTCLUB, PERTH
FRIDAY DECEMBER 11
For more tour and ticket information visit: www.livenation.com
NME said that The Vaccines signalled ‘The Return of the Great British Guitar Band.’ It’s high praise, and probably well earned. More The Drums than the Arctic Monkeys, The Vaccines dish up a proven formula of indie rock at its most accessible. You’ve heard it all before yes, but that’s not a bad thing. The Vaccines bank on the timeless quality of heavy guitar, thick reverbs and zippy infectious tunes. If the throwback sound of The Strokes worked for them in the 90’s, why not for the Vaccines in 2015? The bands enormous success shows that there will always be a real appetite for indie lite. Not to mention rock and roll nostalgia. One look around Richmond’s Corner Hotel and you can easily see that the diversity of the crowd is a testament to the mass appeal of their music. There’s a very surprising number of old heads turned out to see a band that was only formed in 2010, and that’s because they’re more than familiar with this rock and roll sound.
Frontman and songwriter Justin Hayward-Young has a deliberately cultivated simplicity to his lyrics. He’s a firm believer in the less is more principle. It’s homage to the breezy tunes of the 1950’s and the origins of rock. Sure, songs about exes and heartbreak aren’t particularly innovative or insightful, but refreshingly, this is music that’s not snarky and not ironic. It’s all delivered with energy, optimism and purity. It was these big Beach Boys sing-a-longs that really ignited the crowd. Post Break Up Sex is a song as one-dimensional as the title suggests, but its catchy and effortless refrain make it the perfect slogan to drunkenly croon in a mosh while you pogo from side to side. The unpretentious Teenage Idol conjures up a Californian prom night or the Ed Sullivan show. The clean, classic indie anthem I Always Knew was rich and warm.
But The Vaccines aren’t just rock and roll in their style, they are rock and roll in their execution. “There’s no Monday night in the world of the Vaccines” yells Hayward-Young. It’s the kind of rock and roll expression that may have been a platitude in decades past, but now has a quirky, retro chic to it. It’s an interesting sentiment for those generations that did not live through the hegemony of rock and roll. Leading track If You Wanna is full of head-banging, rough guitar and break up blues. Someone behind me said “fuck yeah” during a silence – it was completely involuntary and slipped out from sheer frenzy. The Vaccines closed with crowd-favourite Norgaard, the peppy ode to a Danish model. Everything is done quickly and high-energy. With barely a pause in the hour long set.
The Vaccines are still engaging when they dial it back, and provide more wistful songs in the Tame Impala mould. More indie, than indie rock. Dream Lover, a new track off their recently released third album English Graffiti, gives a hint of a possible change in direction for the meat and two veg band. Maybe one shade darker on the colour wheel. A powerful chorus and some haunting lyrics, suggest there might be more to Hayward-Young than he lets on. Something deeper than the shallow image he so carefully manufactures. The crowd ate up this ghostly crooning, lost in a hypnotic sway.
The Vaccines are a more than solid addition to a long and proud rock and roll heritage. A real life ‘British Guitar Band’ that is always best heard live.
Last month, while promoting the Straight Outta Compton biopic, Ice Cube, DJ Yella and MC Ren put on special performance at the BET Experience. It was the group’s first performance together in 26 years. Now there is talk of a larger reunion tour, and even more interestingly, that Eminem is slated to fill-in for the late Eazy-E. For all those people that are outraged that Eazy-E is being replaced by Eminem, don’t be.
It’s not an insult to Eazy-E’s memory to have him replaced by Eminem, it’s a compliment. Having a very good rapper’s spot filled by the greatest rapper of all time is an honour to Eazy-E’s legacy. An insult would be having Eazy-E replaced by Chief Keef. That would be an insult. Saying that the only person worthy of taking Eazy-E’s spot, is a far more talented and influential rapper pays huge respect to the N.W.A founder. Having Eminem fill in for Eazy-E in a reunion tour is like having Leonardo DiCaprio play the lead role in the Chris Farley biopic (and given DiCaprio’s increased girth over the years this is becoming more and more a reality).
And to all the punters complaining about the addition of Eminem, you’ve just scored an extra performance by an inarguably exceptional artist, when they could have just as easily given you literally nothing. A hologram or a cassette tape. Now if only they could get someone to sub out MC Ren…