A few weeks ago, I
went with my lady friend to see the Basque National Orchestra at the
Kursaal. It was great to hear some
quality live music in a city whose music scene consists of people playing the Txistu or Txalaparta and the
occasional jazz band playing in a bar that looks like a cave. That is not to say that there is not some cool
music in the Basque Country because there most certainly is.[1] Nonetheless,
the show was much appreciated.
My favorite part of
the show was when they played Pavane, Gabriel Fauré’s opus 50. It lasted six minutes and I was bouncing and
bobbing in my seat the whole time. From the get-go until its end, the elderly couple
sitting next to me must have thought I was having a sort of seizure. I was in the groove and even busted out into
a little rap from time to time. The reason
for my antics was that Pavane was sampled in the classic Xzibit song Paparazzi
Live and Video.
Two great jams and one
great moment for me, although I think that I creeped everyone else out.
Masta Ace hails from Brooooooooooooklyn and has been killing
it for decades. His 2001 album
Disposable Arts is a concept album, which chronicles Ace’s flight from the hood
to the Institute of Disposable Arts in Up-State New York and the "regular" developments back home. It is one of my favorite albums of all time
because of the nearly seamless narrative about life in the hood while satirizing higher education in America. The album is packed with JamAndAHalfs and
radical verses from Jane Doe, Jean Grae, Punch, and Strck. There is not a
weak verse on the entire album.
The song Acknowledge, is a classic battle rap that, oddly, is the
only song on the album that does not flow perfectly in the narrative of Ace’s
flight from the hood. That said, the
song is straight fire. Ace’s bars are
accompanied by a weeping violin, which conjures up images of the other rappers’
funerals. A Gangstarr sample is used as
the hook and seems to add authenticity to Ace’s status as a true BIG FISH in the
rap game.
The victims, The High and The Mighty, must have really pissed Ace off to make him stray from the running theme. The High and The Mighty provoked Ace by
stepping “up at CMJ and mentioning” his name. Throughout the song, Ace slashes up the group’s
members and their producer.
Ace finishes by
saying
“You that cat in the club that gets hit with a bottle
Fucking with me, you’re better off trying to hit lotto
And don’t answer back, cuz this is hard shit to follow
And you can’t spit nigga so you obviously must swallow!
Mother Fucker!”
And then Ace asks the proverbial question,
“Don’t you know that
the student can’t fuck with the teacher?”
Rappers are always complainin about biters. Everybody seems to be so worried about folks stealin their style. It seems as though a culture of egoism and and greed has pervaded the rap scene, and even all modern music to an extent. To me this is one of the strangest and most counter intuitive products of music's digital age. At no other time in history can more people hear the music you create, and yet the desire for it to be emulated and influence others has never been less.
Especially with regards to the rap genre this presents the ultimate paradox of hypocrisy. Just about every hip hop song out is made using a sample from a songs that these dudes love. The sample helps to shape the sound and influence the song, in some cases more so than others, but other music always serves as an inspirational influence for the song. I feel there is a desperate need to change the guarded nature of modern day rap to a sentiment of sharing creativity for the sake of the sound. As Nas himself said, "Theres nothin new under the sun. Its never what you do, its how its done." So lets celebrate what sounds good to us and let it inspire us to create great music. Here are some of the funkier examples of what other peoples music can do to inspire greatness. Lots of love to Ronnie Hudson and George Clinton for inspiring the people who make some of my favorite music of all time. Sound familiar? :)
There are few things better musically than a rap song that takes its time to drop. My favorite song of all time, "Elevators" by Outkast, knows that good things come to those to wait, and "Make My" by The Roots and Big K.R.I.T. follows that legacy to a T.
I didn't do a "best-of" list for last year, but if I had, Undun by The Roots would have been very very near the top. Today's jamandahalf is a clear standout on that brilliant album, and it truly is an album in the purest sense of the word. Featuring a verse by longtime favorite Big K.R.I.T., The Roots know they have earned the right to ride out for as long as they want to, and that's what they do. Other than said verse by KRIT and a reflective banger by Black Thought, the thing that is most notable about the track is how expansive it sounds. At the beginning of the album, but at the tail end of the life of Redford Stephens, the central character to the story of Undun, both verses focus on taking one final look back on a life of both good and bad before Redford's subsequent suicide. Although the dark lyrics do weigh the song down, there is some glimmer of the triumphant hidden in there somewhere. Finishing an album-long story with a serious dose of class, The Roots give Stephens a proper farewell.
Anthm (previously known as Anthem) seems to be at an inflection point of his young career. Along with a recent name change (apparently due to paperwork; luckily he'll be easier to find on Google now), Anthem's online presence continues to blossom and he recently twice hit the #1 track on the Hype Machine's Twitter chart beating out much more entrenched artists like Avicii. Musically he also has been experimenting with different styles, subjects, and has been getting away from the "mold" which he fit so well in the tracks up to now. Before if I was listening to a new Anthm track (still doesn't feel right without the e) I pretty much knew what to expect (in a good way). Anthm would spit a couple of hot, smart, verses over a great beat. With Anthm's current streak of new songs leading up to the debut of his new EP (Joy&Pain coming soon!), he has lived up to what he touched on in the last interview we had. His new music continues to show off different facets of who he is, but like he told me half a year ago, "Everything that I do has to be an accurate reflection of some dimension of who I am." Check out a couple of his newer tracks below that show off different aspects of the man (along with the brand new "Freek'n You"), his first major video and into to the EP, and follow him on Twitter here
A world of music is available for anyone with a keyboard and an internet connection. Blogs for every genre and subgenre have emerged, with select bloggers holding more and more sway. Infastructure has been built around these blogs, each fueling the other in a symbiotic relationship. It's funny thinking back even a few years how different it was. The guy on the corner near my high school who sold bootleg mixtapes and albums seems like something from another century, as archaic as a horse drawn buggy.
I remember reading the Source or XXL back in day and there was an article about about those hard to find mixtapes. Chris Rock was interviewed about his favorite albums and he talked about a mixtape that mixed some of the best Tupac verses with newer beats; a novel idea at the time. He said "You'd have to go to Harlem or a swap meet to get this one." A few years later, anyone and their mom can get a hold of it from wherever they are in the world, but that doesn't make the music bump any less hard. Over the "Hate Me Now" beat, Pac and Xzibit posthumously trade verses. There's no filler, nothing Hollywood about this one, just a reminder of what was lost when Pac died and Xzibit took rode the Pimp My Ride moneytrain a little too long. Turn this one on and take yourself back a hot minute ago when music was all passed by word of mouth. As Chris Rock put it "It's the best shit in the world. It's ultimate fighting music. You will kill somebody listening to this shit." Take his advice with a grain or shaker of salt, but do enjoy.
MySpace was recently sold for a fraction of the price that Murdoch bought it for, which, coupled with the News of the World scandal, has quickly made this a helluva bad month for the Murdoch clan. Wear it.
As good as dead as a social service, we have to take a look back at what MySpace has given to us, the music loving public. Other than being a decent site to check out the tour schedule of your favorite artist/band, the biggest achievement of MySpace was bringing Michael Rocks and Chuck English together, forming one of the dopest duos in rap right now. From their jaw dropping mixtape "The Bake Sale" to finally dropping their debut album When Fish Ride Bicycles, The Cool Kids have always done things their own way. While their new music has an added layer of complexity compared to their earlier stripped down lyrics and vocals, they continue to make jams that simply bang. Though not the dopest lyricists around, the two make have come on a recipe which just works. On "Penny Hardaway" the duo bring along the Ghost himself and the three take turns doing what they've all been doing for years: their thing, Penny Hardaway.
On a classic Exile beat: perfect use of a sample, complex, but simple enough to give Blu a free canvas to paint his picture, Blu takes 99% of rappers out there to school. Consistently making top notch jams, Blu and his musical muse Exile have been a beautiful combination for years now, the rap ying and ying interlocking seamlessly. This song borders the line between hip hop and poetry, as the best ones do. If you break this song into two levels-with and without the beat-you start to unravel the DNA of the best hip hop-the forever interwining nature of the beat and the lyrics.
Telling a story about being a young, dumb, kid, and eventually killing a man, the song is also the story of how Blu found hip-hop. The soulful beat and Blu's effotless flow at first mask the dark story at the heart of the song, but after repeated listens the story itself becomes the proverbial diamond in the rough. Above all, this song is a study in hip hop poetics, about bringing the defining characterisitcs of poetry and applying them to rap. Blu's structure repetition throughout is pure Hip Hop 101. Repeating the "dumb kid with a gun" line over and over until the last few lines of the track where he completely flips it and says "Dumb kid with a tongue, that I got from Hip Hop," Blu has transformed that previous one line narrator into something finally positive, ending his, up to that point, bleak history with a bright brushstroke. Forever bridging the literary and the vocal, this is a prime example of a rap workout brought to you by Blu.
For years now rappers of West-African descent have been making it big in their new countries, especially in England where rappers Dizzee Rascal and Tinie Tempah have blown up in a major way. The descendants of immigrants who left their homes to pursue a better life, they truly are the epitome of the immigrant dream: making a better life for your children than you had for yourself.
Today's jamandahalf comes from an artist that is from a place that is close to my heart, Accra, Ghana. I lived in Accra with my family for my first two years of high school and my family soon moved back after I graduated high school in the States, and have lived there since. Accra has become a second home to me, and when I found out about Blitz the Ambassador's story, I had to show some love. This jam is about this sweltering labyrinth of a city, about a city which grows and changes each time I visit, but the city which still remains Accra. Starting off rapping in the local language twi, Blitz fills the song with both visual lyrics and heavy instrumentals, with a horn section that impresses in its intensity, burning bright like the dry season sun. Whether talking about losing a woman or the city that raised him, Blitz's lyrics reflect a loss of something that he will never get back. Moving to the US to study at Kent State, Blitz found his true home as a rapper, and recently released his latest album, Native Son. This track shows Blitz looking back while still moving forward, not forgetting where he is from, but moving on to continue to make unique, quality music like this track.
Sometimes the best way to stop a bully is to ignore them. Sometimes it's best to call them out. This bully has already been called out time and time again, but it's the biggest bully on the block. I probably need a bigger megaphone, but this will do.
The rapper Common has found his name stirred in the constantly simmering pot of misinformation and hype served daily by Fox News. The Obamas are hosting a poetry night to celebrate American poets, and one of the invitees is the Chicago rapper Common. Immediately, talking heads like Sarah Palin, Sean Hannity, and Karl Rove hopped in, using their vast knowledge of hip hop and deep readings into the lyrics of the discography of Common, called him fan of cop-killers, accused him of making threats on George W's life, and called him out on supposedly supporting carrying uzis around and on top for being bad for the kids. And Fox News love the kids.
If the Obamas had invited Tyler, The Creator over for tea, I see how that could cause a stir. But Common? The same Common that has built a career on introspection? Common is one of the shining examples that good hiphop can combine both dope lyricism and great beats, that the two aren't mutually exclusive, and the combination can still be really commercially successful. Reading the lyrics to many of his songs highlights the poetry at heart of the best hiphop, and listening to him perform lets you hear the intrinsic symbiosis between the words and the beat. Common is a rapper's rapper. And all that can be found in this unreleased track that's been chilling in my computer for a little bit. The lyrics are the same ones that are causing all the ruckus now, the sames ones from the Def Poetry Jam from 2007. On top of a easygoing beat by Kanye, Common adopts the voice of an inner-youth, writing a letter to the government about police brutality. The message is there, the lyrics are there, the flow is there, the poetry is there. And that is all Common is. A poet, an artist, and every artist deserves their fair share of free-rein.
Fox News charges Common with being a bad influence on the kids. I'd say that Fox News holds way more influence than the Chicago rapper ever will, and unlike Common, uses that influence very, very poorly. That's where the real danger is, not with a rapper whose most offense recent act was releasing his atrocious last album.
While I’m not much of a believer myself, I will never criticize the religious beliefs of others. That being said, it is sometimes pertinent to point out the discrepancies of religion. Religion to me has always been a deeply personal thing, and my beliefs (or lack thereof) are something which I hold dearly. And they, like most things, have changed as I’ve grown. One thing about religion that does bother me is the flash. Although it’s true that some of the most impressive monuments and buildings I’ve been to in the world have been as a result of, or a dedication to, religion, flash seems at odds with the preaching of most religions, which almost universally preach humility in some form.
Criticism of this flash is at the heart of this jamandahalf from Saigon, simply titled “Preacher.” Saigon took an eternity to release his first album, The Greatest Story Never Told, but the time was spent crafting meticulously plotted-out songs like this one. The song is a critique of Preachers who use their job, as trusted mouthpieces of God, to build fortunes off of those most in need. I remember back in my hometown of Gainesville, Florida, one of the local Preachers had huge billboards posted up all around town and drove around town in the latest model Escalade riding on chrome. While I have no doubt that he did great work and attracted a large audience to his sermons, and while I can’t hate on anyone, anywhere, making an honest living for themselves and their families, humility is something which I do believe is an essential part of the line of work. Whether you agree with me or not, check out this jamandahalf by Saigon who shows off great introspection, dope lyrics, and a necessary message, all wrapped up in a banger of a track.
Music can be a lot of things. A song that is uncomfortably honest doesn’t sound like it could easily be a jam, but “Walking Away” is that and more. It tiptoes the line of too much information, with Brother Ali spitting lines that you would think he would only tell his closest kin, but that is why this song is so unique. Ali allows his listeners an incredible glimpse into his life, something much deeper than the facade of closeness that the average fan gets from Twitter and Facebook. The mellow beat drops immediately, not hinting that the upcoming song is going to be an intimate look into a failed relationship. Brother Ali then spits his verses with a nonchalant calmness, one that conveys a mind at peace, and each hard-hitting line combines great lyricism with a technical precision that few rappers out can match. A helluva story on top of a baby butt smooth beat, this jamandahalf shines in a way that few others do.
David Banner is nothing if not complex. Despite multiple albums, a true gem of poetic introspection, a complete sell out of a club record, and pretty much everything in between, Banner never has seemed completely comfortable on any of his records, perhaps torn between a common rapper dilemma-making music that sells vs. making music that vibes (ie, the newest Lupe record). With the producer 9th Wonder providing the page to project his thoughts, David Banner truly seems to have permanently found a voice which has been tantalizing fans like myself since I first heard of the Mississippi rapper/producer in '03.
On a classic 9th Wonder track with a repetitive sample anchoring a track with an expansive NY sound, Banner flows about the pain of a woman leaving him. With his trademark relentless energy, Banner flies through the downs of his life with the woman, detailing each one with painful honesty. With 9th Wonder on the beat, Banner has both quit his usual producer duties while swapping a very Down South sound for a more North-East flavor. But giving up the reins has allowed Banner to focus on channeling his passion into his lyrics, and this throw away track from the collabo album Death of a Pop Star soars because of that, baring an honesty which is rare in most music today, and not just hip-hop.
It's funny how many people I know that have had a Bone Thugs phase-a time when all they would listen to was the smooth sounds of the Cleveland rappers. I know I had one; about 9th grade I had jams like "Notorious Thugz," "Days of Our Lives," and of course, "Crossroads," on repeat. Bone Thugs was always somewhere in between a hard rap group and a gospel choir, shifting between melodic and aggressive with a natural ease. Each rapper of the group brought a different style and flavor to the table, but their common bond were deliveries which often sounded more musical than the actual instrumentals. Although it's impossible to pick a favorite, the Bone Thugs jam I've had on repeat lately is "Home" featuring the outta nowhere collaboration with Phil Collins. A classic Bone track, the video really puts this one over the top-why so awkward Phil? With effortless style, this is a perfect introduction to Bone Thugs, or for long time fans, well worth a repeat listen.
Quick question. Who is the best rapper of all time? I'll put all the change in my pocket on the fact that not all of you reading this answered the same thing (my pick-Andre 3000). That simple question has spawned books, albums, one liners, and an endless debate amongst hiphopheads the world over.
Another quick question? Who is the best rap group right now? And by right now, I mean, relevant as a group today. That one took a little longer to think of. After the demise of both the rap super-group (The Firm, for example) the all star rap posse (Rocafella, G-Unit etc), and the hiatus of the two best groups to ever do it (Outkast and Wu), the trophy for the world's best rap group is up for the taking. My pick: Slaughterhouse.
On "Move On" the four horseman of Slaughterhouse prove that they are, as individuals and as a group, exceedingly talented. Sporting distinct styles and flows, each one reflecting where they are from, the group never has sounded better than on this track. Joe Budden, Joell Ortiz, Royce da 5'9'', and Crooked I are an unlikely team, the anti Lebron-DWade-CBosh. As rappers who have had solid careers so far but never quite reached a wider audience, they find harmony together, balancing each other out perfectly. Each one drops a gem of a verse, no doubt motivated by another quick question: who has the most fire verse on "Move On"? Addressing their turbulent pasts, this song is both a biography of where they have been as solo artists and a group, and a shining example of where they, and rap, can go.
Lennon, Hendrix, Biggie, Pac: some of the most iconic names in music history-artists who epitomize the very point of this blog, artists who made music that transcends people’s personal favorite genres and styles to become some of the most internationally loved artists of all time. Each artist’s music helps define their genres; combined, each artist’s music begins to mold an answer to the impossible question of “what is good music?” All had lives that were cut short, silencing their voices, but luckily for us the cliché that "music is forever" is true.
Tupac’s brilliance was that he balanced being a thug and a poet with an ease which made both sides equally believable. On “Broken Wings,” a track off of the posthumous album Until The End of Time, Pac seems to both be apologizing for the life he lives while admitting that he is who he is. One bar he is philosophizing, followed by another about drinking Hennessy: combined you get a fascinating picture of a man. What standouts most about this track is Tupac’s flow. Recorded soon before his death, his flow is masterful, rolling along with a forceful pace, not lingering over any syllables but hitting each word and accent with a controlled strength. Many of his songs are peppered with references to his own death, and this jam is no different, especially with its haunting last line, “maybe it’s the thug in me.” Maybe it was the thug in him that led him to be shot in Las Vegas, but lord know that thug also helped him become the artist that he was.
Slick Rick’s flow is undoubtedly one of the smoothest in rap history. He strings together words effortlessly; sliding from one to another like he is playing on a jungle gym. With his unique British accent, eyepatch, and gold chains, Slick Rick’s persona is one of a kind, but luckily he backs up the flash with a career that has been as long and as bright as almost anyone out there, with a focus on storytelling and imparting wisdom like only of the originators can. On this jamandahalf he raps over a baby butt smooth beat with Big Boi stopping by, the two creating a helluva jamandahalf.
Two of the best ever on the same track deliver their raps with night and day flows. Slick Rick sounds like he’s rapping with one eye closed, and on his second verse he has the ultimate lazy-river flow. Throwing in adlibs left and right, his combination of subtle humor wrapped in a layer of wordplay makes a lot of Top-40 rappers sound elementary by comparison. Big Boi comes guns blazing. Not pausing for a breath, Big Boi’s Usain Bolt verse comes and goes before you know it. The paced beat gives both the canvas for their very different styles of painting, but at the end of the day the two combine to create one of the smoothest jams around.
Ghostface Killah is like a wily old guy playing pickup bball at your nearest gym. He rarely strays away from the same few moves, but for some reason they always seem to work. After his lackluster r&b attempt with Ghostdini, Ghost comes back and continues in the hard-hitting lineage of Big Doe Rehab, Fishscale, and the Pretty Toney Album. A showman like few others in the rap game, Ghostface has an eternal flame hunger, it never goes out. After decades of putting out albums with Wu, and a solo career which has been arguably stronger than any other Wu member, Ghost brings his friends along for this newest album, Apollo Kids, and this jamandahalf.
Ghost's verse is all over the place: Benin, Coachella, licorice, and an imam are all thrown into his minestrone soup of a verse. Each line is delivered like its his last on earth, with one running into another to not give the Grim Reaper a chance to keep up. Long time contributers GZA and Killah Priest finish the song off, each dropping knowledge, and all three master the beat in three unique ways. The beat in itself is a monster: part motown, part chant, it's the perfect introduction song to an album full of hard hitting rhymes and great storytelling.
More than presents, more than the snow outside the window in Itakoski, Finland (my mother’s hometown, a stone’s throw away from the Arctic Circle), Christmas has always been most about family for me. Especially after I went to college and my family moved back to Ghana, I typically have seen my family only twice a year-Christmas and summer break. Christmas was usually a blur of jetlag and the Finnish traditions that we still keep, but mainly it was a time to catch up and just kick it.
Kanye’s latest is getting accolades from all over the place, and the blogosphere has pretty unanimously named it the best album of the year. It probably deserves it, but I would still much rather listen to The College Dropout over MBDTF any day of the week. While Kanye has become much more polished and intricate with his production, and his flow has come a long way, his first album still holds a special place for me, and I think marked a significant transition in rap history. On this jamandahalf, Kanye brings the entire family along. Over a perfectly lazy beat, Kanye talks about the ups-and-downs of all families, the good times and the times when you wish you were anywhere but with your kin. His stories are instantly relatable, because I know we all have enough tales to write a song about each of our families, but then again, that is your family business. You can always choose your friends but you can’t choose your family, and that’s the best part. Merry Christmas everyone.
This jamandahalf drops with an instantly recognizable keyboard jingle, sampled in at least thirty songs. Rakim quickly follows up after some scratching by Eric B: there isn't time to waste in this song for anything other than hard hitting rhymes, dope wordplay, and lyricism like Rap had never seen before. Just starting to reach the early stages of its "Golden Era" in mid 1987, Rap got an incredible boost with the release of Eric B and Rakim's classic debut album Paid in Full in July 1987 (which was incredibly only recorded in one week). While early rap was fun music meant for block parties (it's impossible to forget the famous "I said a hip, hop, hip...." of "Rapper's Delight"), 1987 saw albums which really were poetry put to music, with rappers focusing on storytelling and a newfound emphasis on the relationship of the words-borrowing literary tools previously owned by Frost and Shakespeare.
Clocking in at almost seven minutes, the nineteen year old Rakim's verses are a study in rhyme structure. Moving past simple end rhymes, Rakim instead was one of the first rappers, if not the first, who adopted complexity in his schemes-mixing in multisyllabic rhymes in all parts of the line. A lyrical genius, Rakim really shines in the forth (of five!) verses. Like a young gorilla announcing that he's the next silver-back, Rakim's forth verse is him beating his chest and telling the world that he's the best that there is. Wrapping each elongated syllable around drops of the snare, the end effect is hypnotic-its impossible not to want to keep listening to see what his next punch line, impossible not to want to hear his next three syllable rhyme. An early classic that has never lost its uniqueness, this is a song that will keep surprising listeners for years to come.
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