On August 14, Universal will release Straight Outta Compton, the biopic that tells the story of rap supergroup N.W.A. There’s also been chatter about a Tupac biopic to begin filming this June. It’s maybe surprising that we haven’t seen more hip hop biopics, considering how well rappers’ stories lend themselves to the big screen. There’s the rags to riches elements. There’s violence. Drugs. Sex. Not to mention a guaranteed killer soundtrack.
In prep for Straight Outta Compton we take a look at some of the lessons we’ve learned from hip hop biopics so far.
1. Always moralise your gangster
A hip hop biopic makes for the ultimate rags to riches story. Going from extreme poverty to extreme wealth, all overnight, and any film audience loves to root for an underdog. It’s classic Hollywood formula – the hero overcomes insurmountable odds to claim his reward. Unfortunately for screen writers, the journey that rappers embark upon before – and after – obtaining their rewards are much less heroic, and much less family-friendly. Many sell drugs to their neighbours to make their money, and there’s violence galore. And once they make their millions, instead of giving back to the community from which they came, they choose to live a life of mind-blowing excess. The stories of Biggie and 50 Cent are much closer to Tony Montana than Robin Hood. Heroes they ain’t.
So writers have to move heaven and earth to make these cold-hearted killers and dealers even mildly likeable for a full 130 minutes. They do this by trying to make every other minor element of their lives honourable.
So in the opening scene of Get Rich Or Die Tryin’ 50 Cent is doing a bit of casual armed robbery. We see that some of his associates are violent sociopaths, but not 50. 50 calmly explains to his hostages that he would never hurt anyone. He’s a pacifist at heart. Sure, he’s perfectly happy to steal their livelihood and subject them to fear and humiliation – but he’ll never hurt them!
Similarly, 50 is a lover of Shakespearean proportions. Despite the legions of women who throw themselves at 50, he is always true (in his heart) to the girl next door. And he would never cheat on her. Cheating is wrong! Selling drugs to his neighbours on the other hand, and being personally responsible for the addiction and destruction of his own community, is not such a hang-up for old 50. He is a man of principle.
“I’m pregnant!” *internal screaming*
Even 8 Mile tries to gloss over some of the moral defects of its protagonist. He’s anti-gun and cares deeply for his younger sister. In one scene, B-Rabbit shows he’s a card carrying GLAAD member, sticking up for a gay construction worker. The scene is great, but it’s completely at odds with Eminem’s unequivocal lyrics in Criminal: “Hate fags? The answer’s ‘yes’.”
In Notorious, Biggie is appalling to his first wife. He even cheats on his second. But he would never, ever, never do anything to upset his dear old mamma. That’s a really admirable trait in a man: obsession with his mother. “We can’t change the world unless we change ourselves,” someone mutters pointlessly at one stage. This message sounds deep, but Biggie fails to change the world at all. All that Biggie does for the course of the film is strive to be richer and more famous. It implies that money, power and sex are the rewards that the righteous deserve.
You can already see this type of moralising happening in the Straight Outta Compton trailer. “What a lot of people don’t realise about NWA, it’s non-violent protest” says Ice Cube. Umm, what? I failed to pick up that message in Fuck The Police. “Beat a police out of shape, and when I’m finished, bring the yellow tape, to tape up the scene of the slaughter,” is one memorable line from Cube. Later, after the LA riots, Jerry Heller suggests that the group has the “power to change things.” He doesn’t explain how.
Of course there was an element of NWA that was political. (His name was Ice Cube.) And of course there’s a message implicit in Fuck the Police of defying horrendous police brutality and profiling. But it’s ridiculous to suggest that the legacy of NWA was using hip-hop for political agitation. That’s the legacy of a completely different rap group – Public Enemy. The legacy of NWA was the popularisation of ‘gangsta rap’. In fact, in many ways, NWA was the antithesis of Public Enemy. NWA is famous for glamourising and glorifying the gangsta rap lifestyle, drug dealing, misogyny and violence. Any attempt to say otherwise is revisionist. No doubt there’ll be a scene where MC Ren volunteers at a women’s shelter, or Eazy-E encourages safe sex.
NWA prepare for a stint at the Animal Rescue Shelter.
2. Try and use the artists’ music
Aaliyah: The Princess of R&B is remarkable for the dogged persistence of the movies’ producers, who managed to make a biopic without obtaining the rights to a single one of her songs. The courage of the producers is admirable. In a case of life imitating art, the whole thing smacks of the NBC Janis Joplin biopic (on 30 Rock, that is,) which after failing to acquire the life rights, had to be changed to Jeanie Jimpler, and then finally to Sing Them Blues: The Jackie Jormp-Jomp story. Jack Donaghey expresses surprise that “not having the life rights, or any Janis Joplin songs was a negative for audiences.”
This leads to the absolutely mind-bending result of watching her meteoric rise to stardom without hearing a single one of her songs. In the scene where the young starlet prepares to lay down a track for speculative record execs – you might expect to hear one of Aaliyah’s classics. Maybe Are You That Somebody?, Try Again, or One in a Million. One of the iconic songs that is so associated with the singer that just hearing it makes you think fondly of her. Instead we get a Marvjn Gaye cover. That just makes me think fondly of Marvin Gaye. Not only does it create no nostalgia, but it literally makes no sense in the context of her recording her first studio album.
This leads to the golden rule of hip hop biopics: if you’re going to tell the life story of a musician, try and include at least one of their songs.
Get Rich or Die Tryin’ also contains very little music. There’s no rap battles. 50 barely even steps behind the mic. Would anyone in the audience have really cared if we were told that Marcus’s first song just happened to be called In Da Club? Probably not. Instead of making use of 50’s talents as a musician, the director chooses to tell a lukewarm Scarface –both leads in both films are barely intelligible. Notorious succeeds because it’s soundtrack is the just The Best of Biggie Vol. 1.
And then there’s 8 Mile. There’s nothing exploitative about the use of hip-hop here. Director Curtis Hanson shows us a world steeped in hip hop, affected by it. The crew listen to Shimmy Shimmy Ya in Jimmy’s car as they discuss hip hop legends and the final rap battle is done over an unforgettable Mobb Depp beat. There’s even Ten Freak Girls Inside the Chin Tikky the greatest non-song ever put on film. We can only hope that in the fictional 8 Mile universe, Sol George went onto to enjoy one-hit wonder status with the club remix of that freestyle.
“Anything goes when it comes to hoes, I’m the kingpin when it comes to flows” … why doesn’t this go for 4 minutes!?
And what are the actual odds that Eminem is able to produce his magnum opus, just in time for his feature film? How much would Get Rich or Die Tryin’ have been improved if it was the first time anyone had ever head In Da Club? Instead we are given the anthem that sums up both the film, and Eminem’s entire career. The iconic guitar riff makes this different from a classic rap beat. The whole thing has the feel of pressure about to burst. Just like B-Rabbit himself, who’s about to blow. It’s completely deserving of the first rap song to ever win an Academy Award.
3. Try and get lookalike actors
There’s something unsettling about seeing a biopic when the subject matter are still very much alive. Well, ‘alive’ might not be the exact word I’d use to describe Snoop Dogg, but my point is that the public are still very much aware of what he looks like. The images of NWA are still very firm in the public mind.
This means that you can’t just have your pick of actors. Denzel Washington can’t play Suge Knight. Terence Howard won’t get away with Snoop Dogg. Strangely enough, Paul Giamatti is absolutely perfect as Jerry Heller. So you’ve got little choice but to pick from a group of individuals whose sole accomplishment in life is nothing more than looking like someone famous through freak coincidence.
Notorious works overall because of the solid physical resemblance between Jamal Woodward and Biggie. The illusion succeeds at the outset, and that’s the hardest part. From here it’s a boon that Woodward is also a very capable actor, accurately capturing Biggie’s affectations. The fact that he is also a rapper probably helps too.
The same cannot be said for Princess. You have to wonder whether the casting team were ever directed to say, a photograph of Timbaland or Missy Elliot. You’ll give yourself a brain aneurysm trying to pretend that the skinny light-skinned man with the beard is Timbaland – who is very much alive and pictured in the media regularly. The two actors hired to portray the musicians should have been required to wear placards, so as to constantly remind the audience of who exactly they were supposed to be. That’s to say nothing of the bizarre ‘shadeism’ of the casting.
The abysmal casting decisions spawned a litany of hilarious memes.
Of course 8 Mile and Get Rich can’t possibly suffer from this problem as the rappers plays themselves. But I can’t help but think in the case of the latter, the film might have been greatly improved, if like anyone else, had played the role of Marcus.
Anyway, let’s hope that the lessons learnt will be reflected in the upcoming NWA film. Judging by the controversy already surrounding it, it’s sure to be wild ride nonetheless.
The story of Suge Knight is pure hip-hop. It’s the story of a bit player who ruthlessly clawed his way to the top. It reads like a rejected script from Entourage. It’s just as unbelievable, just as unfunny, and much more violent. Suge was a real gangster, living through, and largely instigating the East Coast / West Coast rap war. He was the Rasputin of the mid-90’s: 6 and a half feet tall, bearded, sinister and completely unkillable.
‘Suge’ comes from Knight’s childhood nickname of ‘Sugar Bear.’ ‘Bear’ was presumably on account of his massive stature. ‘Sugar’ was presumably ironic. Growing up in Lynwood, California, Knight was a football star, heading to El Camino College on a scholarship. Knight was not drafted to an NFL team, but soon found another career path that could make good use of his size and strength: as bodyguard to singer Bobby Brown.
Suge lived the gangsta rap creed long before people starting singing about it. Long before GTA: San Andreas, Suge was arrested in Las Vegas for attempted murder after shooting a man three times, while trying to steal his car.
Suge graduated from bodyguard to standover man when he famously secured the release of Dr. Dre from Eazy-E’s Ruthless Records. Suge and several other lead pipe-wielding associates stood and watched as Jerry Heller and Eazy-E signed documents releasing Dre from his 6 year contract.
These aggressive business tactics worked for Knight again in 1990 when he threatened to throw Vanilla Ice off a balcony if he refused to transfer royalties to Knight’s client. Sadly, Vanilla Ice agreed and Knight’s threat was never carried out.
Knight formed Death Row Records with Dr. Dre in 1992 and enjoyed instant success. Dre’s solo classic The Chronic went triple platinum by the end of 1993. Death Row also launched the career of Snoop Dogg, whose own debut Doggystyle went quadruple platinum in 1994. In 1995, Knight bought the soul of Tupac Shakur, after he offered to post the rappers $1.4 million bail, on condition that he sign with Death Row. By combining Tupac, Dr. Dre and Snoop Dogg, Suge successfully created the Avengers of Hip-hop rosters. It makes Young Money look like the Wiggles.
At the height of his power, he made the transition from rap mogul to comic book super villain. Knight was on the frontline of the East Coast / West Coast rap war. At the 1995 Source Awards, Knight called out Bad Boy impresario Sean Combs, and his tendency to “uh huh,” “yeah” and “that’s right” throughout the background of his artists songs. “Anyone out there who wanna be a recording artist…but don’t want to worry about the executive producer trying to be in all the videos, all on the records, come to Death Row.” Knight was driving the night when Tupac Shakur was shot and fatally killed in a drive-by in Las Vegas. When Biggie was shot and killed in a similar manner on March 9, 1997 many suspected that Knight had ordered the hit.
Suge’s reputation as a thug soon became too much even for so-called ‘gangsta’ rappers Dr Dre and Snoop Dogg. Both left the label, and held deep resentment for Knight’s perceived involvement in Tupac’s death.
Knight was sent to prison in 1996 for a parole violation for an assault on the night of Tupac’s death. This had absolutely nothing to do with Pac. Suge just wanted to rough someone. Knight received a 9-year sentence for the parole violation. Now, maybe Suge could be forgiven for acting out the fantasy of every man, when he successfully pulverised a parking lot attendant in 2003. But obviously the judge had never gotten a parking ticket before, and threw him back in prison.
With the kingpin behind bars, the Death Row Empire quickly turned to ruin. At this point the story takes a turn for the pathetic. Creditors quickly came for Suge. However, they weren’t the next generation of loan sharks toting baseball bats. They were bespectacled lawyers toting subpoenas. In 2006, Knight filed for bankruptcy after a steady stream of costly litigation. While his bank account may have only contained a total of $12, he was still sporting jewellery worth $25K.
Hip-hop violence is almost non-existent in the modern age. Still, Suge is the Sonny Corleone of the era; he seems to be a magnet for bullets. In 2005 he was shot in the leg at Kanye West’s pre-VMA party. In 2014 he was again shot at a pre-VMA’s award party, this time hosted by Chris Brown. The VMA’s are steeped in tragedy.
In 2012 Knight was arrested after nicking a camera out of a photographers hands. While you could probably file that crime under ‘L’ for ‘Larrikin’, Knight could still face up to 30 years behind bars due to the accumulative effect of his enormous rap sheet.
At this point the story takes a[nother] turn for the bizarre. On January 29, 2015 Suge visited the set of ‘Straight Outta Compton‘ – the biopic that tells the story of the formation of NWA. We can only assume that Suge was unhappy with his portrayal as the villain, because the night ended with Suge running over a record exec and a filmmaker in his truck in the parking lot of a burger chain. The hit-and-run left one dead and the other seriously injured. Whilst eyewitness accounts seems to support the theory that Knight deliberately flattened the pair, new evidence suggests Knight was trying to escape an attack. If that is the case, this can be added to the long list of times that Knight has successfully cheated death. Knight has been charged with murder and bail of $2 million was refused.
In court, Knight is now complaining of serious health problems. He told the judge that he’s lost 30 pounds and only has 15% vision in one eye and is completely blind in the other. It’s maybe sad that this literal hip-hop giant is going to go out with a whimper and not with a bang – complaining of potentially fictional ailments to avoid a lengthy jail sentence. He might have preferred the sacred death of his contemporaries, going out in a hellfire of bullets.
If there was a Venn diagram representing ‘fans of Chance the Rapper’ and ‘fans of Alec Baldwin’ I suspect there would almost be perfect overlap of the two circles. The former has always been on the more intellectual side of hip-hop, and the latter has always been on the more urbane side of celebrity. Both have large cult followings.
So naturally an instragram video of Alec Baldwin rapping over a beat provided by Chance The Rapper has greater viral potential than a packet of Nana’s Frozen Berries.
Chance explains that Baldwin is a long-time patron of YCA, the Young Chicago Authors. The YCA is an organisation aimed at helping urban youth develop as artists and individuals through writing, publication, and performance. Chance credits the YCA with his own artistic development.
There is a principle of social science that states that the older, and whiter a man is – the funnier it is to see him freestyle rap. Generally, this rule is without exception. But Baldwin keeps it classy. Instead of out-dated slang and hand gestures that would be offensive to all involved, Baldwin is right at home with the poetry of Carl Sandburg. But Baldwin has so much cred from years of commitment to the arts in underprivileged communities that a video of him dunking on Kobe might still be tasteful.
Baldwin is a philanthropist, liberal and general sicko who has enjoyed a brief but dazzling fling with hip hop. He is the subject of an amazing Yeezy lyric – “got caught with 30 rocks, the cop looked like Alec Baldwin.” And Jack Donaghey even employed Ghostface Killah as a spokesman for his wine label, which he hoped to turn into “the next Cristal.”
Kanye West has unveiled the exciting new track All Day in a high-octane performance at the BRIT awards. After an introduction from wife Kim Kardashian, Ye launched into the biggest and most memorable of his recent appearances.
The track is completely different from the recently released, autotuned ballads Only One and Wolves. Ye swaps pitch-corrected vocals for yelling, visuals of his infant daughter for pyrotechnics and introspective, contemplative lyrics for more yelling. This is the bigger, dumber brother of N***as In Paris. It’s so much fun that Taylor Swift has to fight the urge to run on stage and risk immolation.
Kanye is joined on stage by some friends. I’m not sure whether they are more of a ‘mob’ or more of a ‘hoard.’ Either way, they look extremely pissed off and two of them are wielding flamethrowers. All you need is one guy wearing a human ribcage as a facemask and the whole crew would feel very welcome on the set of the new Mad Max reboot. Ye’s roster selection shows he keeps his ear very close to the round. UK grime acts Skepta and Jammer form part of Ye’s post-apocalyptic motorcycle gang, a move bound to please British hip-hop heads.
Kanye gives a very physical performance. His voice booms as he bounces across the stage, and he finishes breathless and sweaty. The dedication to his craft is admirable.
But this is nothing compared to the performance of the immensely talented audiovisual technician who managed to freestyle bleep 70% of the song. The man is Picasso with a switchboard. A true censorship artist. While Kanye may be putting his vocal chords under enormous strain, but this is nothing compared to the nameless techie who risked premature carpal-tunnel syndrome from his vigorous button-mashing. Where is his BRIT award?
http://youtu.be/TD32toiVyKg
Dark Sky Paradise, the 3rd studio album from Big Sean, is absolutely obsessed with the concepts of work ethic and being ‘deserving’ of fame. The hip-hop theme of ‘grinding’ is thoroughly played out. Nonetheless, Sean decides to squeeze it for every last drop. And it works for Sean. Because he really believes in the singular nature of his story.
Dark Sky Paradise explores themes of failing to live up to potential. Or rather it explores themes of failing to receive the accolades that you deserve. It’s a fitting title. Now that Sean is ‘finally famous,’ he’s obtained paradise. He has fame, wealth, women and critical respect. But there’s a dark side to this paradise. And it’s not the dark side you might expect. Drugs, fake friends, feuds, egos – these are not problems. The dark side for Sean is that paradise just isn’t big enough. The money isn’t as good as he imagined. Even after being “signed for four years,” he’s only just able to afford to buy his mother a new Cadillac (Win Some, Lose Some). He still hasn’t got the props he feels he deserves. Lil Wayne kindly sums up Sean’s ‘failure’ – “I feel like Sean, don’t get enough shine.” Wayne consoles Big Sean “it ain’t about if they remember you, they remember rap / so just spit it back and hope they digging that.” Don’t stress about critics says Wayne, just do your thing and hopefully some will enjoy it. It’s a concern that’s not the least bit relatable. Still, it’s a neuroses Sean can’t escape. “A little fame but I ain’t famous – still I feel like I deserve it” croons the hook, in the appropriately titled Deserve It. It’s a strange sentiment, but it is interesting
But there’s also a whiney quality to it. One Man Can Change The World, which features vocals from Academy Award winner John Legend, sounds like it would be right at home on the Selma soundtrack. But the song is really about Sean’s success in changing his own world. What Sean chooses to do with that money and power is to live like a playboy. His impact on his surroundings is negligible. It’s a very masturbatory anthem.
Sean receives a substantial chop out from his label boss Kanye West, who agreed to be an executive producer on the album. It benefits greatly from Kanye’s experience. Both this and Pusha T’s last effort definitely have a post-Yeezus feel. It’s most evident on the standout track All Your Fault where a brilliant sample is abruptly cut off. Don’t let anyone say that Kanye lets his squad fend for themselves. The structure of the album is superb. It dips briefly into clearer waters around the middle, before it permanently descends into the deep darkness, which is the albums primary sonic fixation. Mike WiLL Made-It successfully conjures storm clouds with booming horns and a single menacing piano key in Paradise. There’s also some modern interpretations of the RnB sound that are very well executed on Play No Games and Stay Down. Dj Dahi provides one of the standout beats on Outro. Sean glides over a funky riff and sample. It’s frustrating that this breezier track has been relegated to the end.
Sean’s rapping is also on par. I was misled by a couple of restrained features he gave on popular Kanye West songs. His verse on Clique was slow and simple. It was subdued. His verse on I Don’t Like is more indicative. Only his verse on the fantastic g.o.o.d Friday’s release Looking For Trouble truly showcases the ‘exponential’ quality of his flow. It’s always entertaining when Sean delivers his ‘wind-up flow,’ like on Paradise. He starts very slow, speeding up the last couple of words to give the feel of gathering momentum, before slowing again. It’s exactly like a train piston, where the final movement is the quickest. He keeps cranking the winch, before finally unleashing a supersonic flow. This trick never gets tired.
Sean’s got punchlines for days. “Getting dressed up for court, that’s a law suit / ain’t wearing V-necks but niggas ask what happened to the crew,” is one of the many bombs he drops on Win Some Lose Some. Sean is actually at his best when he’s telling stories. Sadly, only the album’s bonus tracks engage strongly with imagery. The Ariana Grande assisted Research deals with the theme of a snooping girlfriend, while Platinum and Wood refreshingly details life before he was Finally Famous.
Standout track is the first single IDFWU. It’s an internet-friendly club track that’s fun and infectious. Sean positively bounces on the beat, slowing down and speeding up where appropriate. It’s all performed over a cute 70’s keyboard riff. It’s the breakup anthem that you know is going to inspire a million memes. “I mean for real, fuck how you feel / fuck your two cents if it ain’t goin’ towards the bill,” yells Sean at what must be a red-faced ex. Another highlight is the incredible All Your Fault. It’s another erratic 70’s sample with one of the most fitting autotune choruses Kanye has ever delivered. You’ll be waiting desperately for the chorus to come back around. There’s an organ and a wood block. There’s a huge verse from Kanye. Sean kills it again with his peculiar affectation; winding up for a flamethrower verse.
Dark Sky Paradise has everything you’d want from a rap album: some brilliant production and some dexterous flows. It also showcases Sean’s artistic development and is definitely a more mature offering. It’s visual and aural exploration of darkness is novel and it really does give off the entire feeling of an ominous raincloud. It’s a very good album, but, unfortunately it’s not enough to catapult him to the megastar status he so doggedly believes he deserves.
7/10.
Kanye West has returned to the Breakfast Club! In the past, the station has been Yeezy’s preferred platform for his more baffling rants. But in his most recent visit, Ye gives the most lucid interview of his career. Host Charlemagne tha God has got it right: “Ye got media training! This is a new Ye!” Media-savvy Kanye pauses to consider his responses. He even apologises for giving an answer that’s “politically correct”. He’s self deprecating. “I don’t like autotune neither but I need it,” he says, acknowledging his shortcomings as a singer. He’s funny. And not in an unintentional way like he normally is. Actually funny.
This is the most likeable we have seen Kanye in years. The interview is fixated with the idea of humility. Whilst this is probably complete bullshit, it certainly won me over. But then again I’ve always had vivid daytime fantasies of shielding Kanye from paparazzi and gently guiding his head into a limo as we flee a media scrum together, hand-in-hand.
Nonetheless the interview is still pure Kanye and filled wit enough soundbytes to see us through to his next media meltdown. Let’s take a look at Yeezy’s top 8.
“I’m not gonna give myself any kind of title anymore… I’m just a humble servant”
I know I said the interview wasn’t unintentionally funny. And with the exception of this one quote, it isn’t. And even this quote has context. Ye says that he’s moved past giving himself titles, “genius” etc. His only focus now is satisfying the masses. Doing things that “serve the public.” This message is actually pretty consistent with the rest of the interview – his upcoming pop album and his accessible new clothing line. “My approach is more Robin Hood now.” Ye talks about what he wants from his collaboration with Adidas. “I want people to have what they make… I want as many people to get them.” His ultimate goal is to bring the price point down to $60.
The new Yeezy wants to break down ideas of class. He illustrates this in typical Kanye fashion, with a bizarre anecdote that could only come from his Mount Olympus perspective. Boarding an international flight Kanye noticed that the queue for first class was in fact longer than the economy line. The Hermes-toting first class passengers would rather wait in line and preserve their status than rush through the economy queue. This powerful image causes him to philosophize on class struggles. “You wanna be first class, but in a plane crash, everyone dead.” Profound. Further, he says that he goes without flying private so that he can be “inspired” by the plebeians that he observes at the airport. This smacks of Tracy Jordan’s demand of a blue collar fan: “can I feel the rough skin on your hands?”
So far, comparison between musician Kanye West and mythic robber Robin Hood have been minimal. But it seems like an obvious subject for a student dissertation paper. Comparisons with Tracy Jordan are near endless.
“Humbly, I would say I’m the most influential person in footwear right now”
Again, I promised it wasn’t unintentionally funny. But Ye’s comments are probably justified here. The Adidas Yeezy’s really are revolutionary. “I’m a futurist” Kanye says. And shit – don’t the Yeezy’s look exactly like the perfect footwear to match the plain grey tunic that’s given to every citizen in every dystopian sci-fi novel ever? Katniss would have breezed through the trials with a pair of Yeezy Boosts on. But Kanye is not above laughing at his own product. He concedes that he wanted to make a “sexier ugg” and recognises that “people joke at that.” Again, Ye’s goal with fashion is democratic, he wants to bring it to the masses. Affordability is his new mantra. His ultimate aim is to “have everything at a Zara level.”
Citizen #00178 prepares for ‘assimilation,’ while Trinity pleads with Neo to save Zion from the Machines.
“I went to dinner, sat down with Taylor Swift. And, ironically, they were playing the Beck album”
One of the shittiest things about Kanye’s ‘Beck Rant’ was his comment that Beck “didn’t respect artistry.” As countless memes have since pointed out, Beck is a multi-instrumentalist and sole producer of his 12th studio album. “That was hypocritical,” concedes Ye.
But Kanye’s apology is typically backhanded. Ye recognises the irony when the Beck album is playing in the background of his rendezvous with interuptee Taylor Swift. “Man this is kinda good” says Ye during his first listen. Yes, that’s right. When Ye walked on stage touting the supremacy of the Queen Bee, he, a man famous for always having his ear to the ground, had not even heard Beck’s album for comparison. When asked whether Ye had made the effort to reach out to Beck, he says that he made the effort to get the folk-singers contact details. The only thing preventing him from making the call was that he “just kept forgetting.”
By gaining the brain function to perform humble gestures, Ye has unfortunately lost the brain function for short term memory.
I get all my facts from memes.
“Stop talking about racism… it slows down the conversation”
It’s not clear whether this is a new attitude that Kanye has genuinely developed, or whether it’s straight from his PR playbook. Kanye’s views on race are sometimes divisive. His PR team probably stress that his views can alienate some fans (read: white fans). So it’s not clear whether this new outlook is being forced on Kanye, to keep the peace, or whether this new mind state is really his own.
Kanye says that complaining about racism is played out. “We know a lot of white men over the age of 60 are racist, a lot of people in power like Donald Sterling, but the world is moving…” He says that we need to “stop talking about racism.” Being fixated on race ultimately serves to “slow down the conversation.”
The opinion of Kanye’s father is clearly gospel to him. “Stay out of Mike Brown” says Ye’s dad. When asked why his father would make this demand, Ye replies “[he’s] being protective of his son, I can’t run in front of every bullet.” I would take the bullets for you Kanye. If only you would just let me.
“Mike Myers doesn’t care about black people” – the now infamous quote that polarised opinion on both celebrities.
“She can get naked if she wants to”
Charlemagne criticizes Kim Kardashian’s attempt to ‘break the internet’ as needlessly sexual and needlessly attention-seeking. “She can get naked if she wants to” says Ye. Aside from an obscure reference to Adam and the Fall of Man, Kanye gives a measured response to a fairly ridiculous insult. Ye defends both the artistic integrity of the photograph and Kim’s business clout. “Has the Kardashian brand hurt the Kanye West brand?” asks Charlemagne. He implies that the Kardashian’s are trash, that they can’t rub shoulders with Ye’s arty friends. But ol’ Robin Hood has a comeback for this as well. “It’s helped” says Ye, “shown my ability to bridge the gap.” Ye believes that marrying the reality TV star has made him more accessible to the everyman. Certainly Kim’s talents are pedestrian.
Again, for every sensible comment about sexual liberation and monogamy there’s a funny pot-shot at an ex. “It’s hard for a woman to want to be with someone that’s been with Amber Rose” says Kanye “I had to take 30 showers.” He aims this zinger at the former flame who inspired Runaway. When asked whether it was true that Kim Kardashian sent him naked photos of herself while he was dating Rose, Ye replies simply “I wish.”
This could be one of those pot/kettle type situations
“Cookout: music that just feels good”
Here comes Ye the public servant again. His new album is going to be popular. He almost seems embarrassed by the challenging nature of Yeezus. He calls it his “if- y’all-ain’t-gonna-let-me-play – I’m-gonna-take-my-ball-and-go-home” album. Meaning that it was made deliberately obscure to upset punters and music execs alike. Kanye wants to make music for the everyman again. “Music that makes you feels good. Embracing the music. Embracing the joy. Being of service to the people. Trying to get it to the people.” Only One and Wolves are definitely more radio friendly, and are most sonically similar to the vocal album 808’s and Heartbreaks. But should Kanye have to dumb down just so that he can be popular again? Or is the whole thing pure Andy Warhol? Turning pop into high art because it’s exactly what no one will be expecting.
Kanye pursues the coveted Teen Choice Award. Will he have the votes?
“Me and Drake…was gonna do an album together and it was gon’ be called Wolves”
Ye reveals the Drake collab that could have been! “I’ll give y’all the soundbyte that y’all want –the Wolves song came from a conversation that me and Drake had when was gonna do an album together and it was gon’ be called Wolves.” You could almost hear the collective panty-drop when Ye made this announcement. If this idea had come to fruition when it was first floated in 2010, we could have been looking at the sappiest double-header of that, or any, decade. A head-to-head duet duel between Drake and Kanye would test the capabilities of modern autotune software. And the capabilities of the human heart.
Kanye and Drake overcompensate with macho album title ‘Wolves’
“I want Disney Imagineering to support my ideas”
Ye reveals the Disney collab that could have been! Not quite. The quote is given in the context of a general rant about his accomplishments as an artist in all disciplines. Could Kanye animate his own feature length film? Sure, why not. I’ll watch it. Make this happen Disney.
“in Pixar’s upcoming movie about trash, I’m doing the voice of a lazy bottle of grape-flavored soda named Funky Bobo.”
Stream the full interview here:
Singer Afroman just set marijuana legalisation back a decade.
In footage that’s now gone viral, Afroman was halfway through a live set when a female fan ventured on stage. Instead of let her innocently dance in his vicinity, or at least asking security to carefully remove her from the stage, the aging rapper decided to whirl around and deliver a punch to the head. He also made the bizarre decision to continue playing while the woman cried in pain. Police arrested him some time later.
No, it’s not subtle, it’s not something that could be mistaken for an accidental shove. Watch it here:
I know it’s annoying for artists, when punters get up stage midway through a set. It’s distracting and can affect your game. But that’s no excuse for punching someone squarely in the face.
One of many marijuana advocates who have long denied that the drug has any negative effects even after years of prolonged use, he even recently released a commemorative remix of his classic Because I Got High in support of marijuana legalisation.
But if Afroman denies that marijuana use is responsible for irreversible cognitive impairment, triggering anxiety and even schizophrenia (in the genetically vulnerable/predisposed) – then what explains his decision to brutally assault a female fan at a Mississippi set? Surely that’s an activity that can only be attributed to an absolutely warped, drug-addled mind.
Or maybe he’s just an idiot and an asshole.
He had this to say in response to the incident and his arrest:
He’s also publicly stated that he will be seeking anger management.
The incident already occupies one third of the bio on his Afroman’s Wikipedia page. It’s certainly one of most eventful things to happen to him in an otherwise lacklustre career. Afroman is a moron and brings a disturbing new meaning to ‘one-hit-wonder.’
Following a Grammy win for the song i, Kendrick has released a second track from his upcoming album, The Blacker the Berry. It’s no surprise that this single directly follows i. They’re two sides to the same coin; both are inextricably concerned with self-love and self-respect. i is incandescent and sweet, The Blacker the Berry is shadowy and rough. Both are excellent.
But where i spends six minutes stargazing, The Blacker the Berry contemplates the suffocating darkness. Each verse begins with the line “I’m the biggest hypocrite of 2015.” On a first listen, I thought this was a clear reference to his release of the song ‘i’, where Kendrick praises self-love. He believes that it’s even more important than love for others. On a first listen, that message of self-love is completely inconsistent with The Blacker the Berry, ostensibly a demand for racists to try and love others. A racist is always concerned with self-love. In fact, they’re incapable of exhibiting love for others. “You hate me don’t you? You hate my people / your plan is to terminate my culture” raps Kendrick.
But the “hypocrite” line can only be properly understood at the songs conclusion. It’s rare for a rap song to contain a twist. But this is the Sixth Sense in mp3 form. This review should probably come with a spoiler warning. “So why did I weep when Trayvon Martin was in the street? When gang banging make me kill a nigga blacker than me? Hypocrite!” Pulitzer Prize winner Michael Chabon has significantly annotated this line for rapgenius.com. Chabon recognises this as a rhetorical device where the “hypocrite” line that is peppered throughout the song only becomes meaningful in retrospect. He likens it the reveal in Common’s classic I Used To Love H.E.R when we are told that the ‘girl’ is hip-hop itself. That’s the hip-hop equivalent of “Luke, I am your father.”
Now we realise that Kendrick is not a hypocrite for releasing i and praising self-love. He’s a hypocrite because he demands an end to violence perpetrated against African-Americans, when his own gang violence has resulted in the death of another African-American. Of course, Kendrick is not just referring to himself specifically. He’s referring to all African-American communities and the problem of black on black violence. Kendrick recently made some controversial comments concerning the Ferguson riots. “What happened to [Michael Brown] should’ve never happened. Never. But when we don’t have respect for ourselves, how do we expect them to respect us? It starts from within.” Kendrick brings it back to self-love and self-respect.
The message is powerful. It’s polarising. Kendrick raps like a pro. The production is fierce. There’s little doubt that K-Dot’s sophomore will be the finest hip-hop album of the year.
B4.DA.$$- a funny stylisation of ‘Before Da Money’– is the latest offering from 20 year old Brooklyn MC Joey Bada$$. Don’t let the ‘dollar signs’ fool you. Joey is not the next in line to the trap throne of ‘consciously unconscious’ rap, held by Wacka Flocka or Chief Keef. Nothing could be further from the truth. In fact Joey, and contemporaries Kendrick Lamar and Ab-Soul are emerging as the introspective antidote to that Hip-Hop toxin.
1999 was the name of Joey’s first, hugely popular mix tape. Even though Joey was only four years old in 1999, it’s the sound of the late 90’s, his personal “golden age”, that he’s emulating. To call 90’s rap an ‘influence’ on Joey’s music is an understatement. His aim is simple: flawless reproduction of the absolute best of the era. Some websites have the albums genre listed very specifically (and very accurately) as ‘boom bap,’ a subgenre no longer practiced in mainstream hip-hop. It’s easy to forget that Joey is only 20 years old, and B4.DA.$$ his debut album – the entire joint feels like the fifth effort of an East Coast veteran.
Joey himself describes his music under a subgenre of his creation, ‘Beast Coast.’ At its simplest, it’s just a label to describe the next generation of East Coast rappers, including ASAP Rocky and Flatbush Zombies. The label seems fitting for track Big Dusty, which continues a tradition of capturing the grimy and haunting quality of New York City. “I guess my CD really shaking the coast / cause this really be the year that I feast, capisce? Nothing defeats the Beast.” Laid over a traditionally minimal beat, the track has all the qualities of East Coast Rap, but with an added ‘beastly’ aggression and intensity.
Just like the Italian Renaissance, which revived the brilliance of Rome after the Dark Ages – Joey’s throwback album seems so fresh next to the dross of modern hip-hop. As a lyricist, Joey is comparable to anyone else in the game. The album is littered with highly quotable one-liners. “I got the blueprint to this shit / Jay to the Oh Vee” he menaces on No.99, “If Blue was a prince, I’m still Joseph Kony.” A quick check on rapgenius confirms that whilst Jay-Z might be royalty, it is Joey who is truly the KONY (King Of New York). “Balenciaga” is a fun word to say at the best of times. Joey combines it with “saga” and “henny agua” in Paper Trails to create a delectable assonance.
Similarly, Joey’s “third-eye open” music sees a return of ‘social consciousness’ that has been lost since the 90’s. Joey pays tribute to Nas in Piece of Mind – a track played to an incarcerated friend, lamenting that he can’t see his young child. It’s hard to believe that themes of struggle with poverty and institutionalisation, which used to be hallmarks of the genre, are now mostly missing from rap. It’s actually novel whenever Joey touches on it. More importantly, he only speaks of money disparagingly, so refreshing in a genre that continues re-hashing the same tired themes of money and excess over and over again.
Joey’s vocal skills are just as formidable. A hip-hop album with so few featured rappers can often be aurally dull, but he employs his voice so effectively, that it often sounds like a completely different artist. He injects Hazeus View with the tones of St. Lucia and Jamaica, whilst he croons over Like Me, and outright screams on Christ Conscious. His voice is warm and soulful on On & On and gravelly on Big Dusty. And he’s a great singer, too. The ability to hit minor notes is a mandatory requirement for a new rapper in a post-Drake, post-Kendrick world. However, Joey is at times hampered by tradition.The typically slow genre doesn’t lend him the opportunity to flex in the way Kendrick could on m.a.a.d City.
With a nostalgic sound and a subdued nature, this is a very indie album. The commercial success of B4.DA.$$ is personally surprising. Its debut at no. 5 on the US Charts is probably indicative of the increasingly discerning tastes of music listeners globally. That’s not to say it doesn’t have some pop moments – Christ Conscious is the by far the most modern cut from an album steeped in the past. Despite the minimal beat, the hyper-aggression and thumping bass are modern trappings. This is the kind of track that gives Malia Obama (and her Pro Era selfie) real hood props.
joy
Teach Me is the album’s only other pop offering. Joey’s decision to relegate the song to a bonus track seems to show his embarrassment for commercially viable music. The infectious and fun song, with catchy vocals provided by Kieza is a welcome change of pace in an album that is always slow, often glum and occasionally repetitive. A staunch traditionalist, he’s thoroughly earned the respect of anachronistic hip-hop heads. No one could accuse him of selling out for occasionally releasing a song with a woman singing on it.
The first half of the album contains the majority of quality tracks, but it’s “Paper Trail$” – the darker, timely sequel to the Wu-Tang’s classic C.R.E.A.M, that is the absolute standout. The pacing and building intensity creates a sense of hunger and urgency that’s consistent with the song’s message. The beat reaches fever pitch when the drums kick in significantly on the line “this kid ain’t been the same since Biggie smacked me at my christening.” Joey’s ultimate agenda is homage to greats like Biggie.
There’s room for some criticism of Joey’s perfect adherence to the 90’s rap rulebook. Whilst Kendrick Lamar’s breakthrough good Kid paid respect to the West Coast tradition, it was still an original and progressive piece. The same cannot be said for B4.DA.$$ which is less homage than perfect mimicry. Having said that, if it’s not broken, it doesn’t need fixing. This is a sophisticated and intelligent debut. Very curious to see what he does next.
8/10.
After a yearlong hiatus, cult hero Earl Sweatshirt has supposedly unveiled the first track off his upcoming album, Quest/Power.
Sweatshirt began his career as the far more brilliant prodigy of Tyler, the Creator. His wicked flows had a level of complexity that was absolutely shocking for someone his age. “I’m a hot and bothered astronaut / crashing while jacking off / to buffering vids of Asher Roth eating apple sauce” raps Earl on his debut album. Recorded at the age of 16.
At the height of Odd Future’s success, fans were denied the opportunity to hear from the young genius. At the request of his mother, Earl was made to attend a camp for troubled youths in Samoa. When Earl finally released his first studio album in 2012, fans were expecting more of his fast-paced, deft and assonance heavy flows. Instead, Earl gave us Doris. Doris is dark and heavy. The production is slow and on the offbeat. Nothing like the nimble, boyish flows that made him famous. It’s pretty clear that Earl did this consciously. “Don’t nobody care about how you feel, we want raps” a fan demands of him on the opening track. This was a reaction to the huge pressure placed on him to release an even quicker, smarter follow-up to Earl. He makes a deliberate effort to warp his voice. He makes it sound older and deeper. He does not want any association with his earlier, youthful persona. It’s like whenever you see Daniel Radcliffe smoking. He’s going above and beyond to show us that he’s grown up. Don’t get me wrong, Doris is a masterpiece, and contains some of the best lyrics ever recorded. His use of assonance is unrivalled. On Chum he raps, “advanced apathy / smashing the man cameras up / tan khakis an antagonist dan-dappered up.” The son of a prominent poet, Earl deploys words like T.S. Elliot.
Some hoped that since Earl had proven that he was no one-trick pony, his second album might be a return to his roots. Or something completely different altogether. Instead it seems Earl has gone even deeper into the rabbit hole. On Quest/Power, the beat is even more erratic. It’s a frustrating listen, more outright lazy than laconic. Earl stresses his drawl so much that he’s barely audible – nothing like the crisp pronunciation of his youth. He sounds like a Texan who makes a deliberate effort to talk out of the side of their mouth. It seems he is so bitter at the huge expectation placed on him, that he’s gone and made something deliberately bad to give critics the finger.
But the biggest sin on this track is not just trying to dodge radio play. It’s his complete abandonment of his verbal skills. “Spent nights off the diners at my desk / did time in the tower of spliffs / I’m not like the cowards on the fence / I’m not like lounging on the bench.” None of these words rhyme. The images are simple. This is more Chief Keef than MF Doom. This is disappointing.
We can only hope that Earl will stop trying to be cool. Stop trying to alienate people so that you can remain in the counter-culture. Pull your finger out and start making good raps again.