Tuesday, March 29, 2016

PEANUT BUTTER JELLY TIME


What's Gucci, y'all? Ya mans back at it once again, finally able to use a keyboard after shedding so many tears for Phife Dawg and the one Garry Shandling. The '90s are officially dead, which is why I been hibernating in the wombs of dead epochs since my last transmission. In between keeping up with my MUBI subscription and drawing tenuous connections between the works of Ice Cube and Crass (I'm the only Ice Cube fan under 30, and the only Crass fan over 13), I ain't had a lot of time or interest in keeping up with new music.


WHAT, WHAT, WHAT? WHAT, WHAT, WHAT! :(
The latest disappointment? N.O.R.E.'s Drunk Uncle Mixtape, which I been clockin for months on account of its absurdist track list and strong title/artwork combination. Maybe I was expecting too much from a N.O.R.E. mixtape in 2016. Maybe there's a solid EP lurking within its unholy architecture. But the only thing I really gleaned from Drunk Uncle is that the Fat Jew is as punchable on record as he is on the Internet. Someone whip out the Crying Jordan face, cause N.O.R.E. is takin an L on this one.


I USED TO BE YOUNG BUT I'M GROWN NOW
What is life? Where did I come from? Where am I heading? Why am I watching (and loving) Dirty videos in 2016? And did Terrence Howard steal his Hustle and Flow look from the "Hit Da Floe" video? These is questions better left for ya Rabbi, Imam, or some OT-VIII MF, but maybe we can restore some order to the universe if Three 6 agrees to share the Oscar with Big Pimp and Mr. G Stacka The Gangsta.



STILL PISS ON THE CHICK, WHILE THE CHICK KISS ON THE STICK
My ongoing case of Dirty-inspired insanity took me down a YouTube wormhole leading me back to my old friend, "Ballin' Boy" by No Good. Those of you who remember the names Hot Sauce and Skip 2 My Lou (or these ugly-ass shoes) will remember this one. Maaaane, this shit is PEAK early '00s Miami rap, proving that Trick Daddy >>> Rick Ross > Raider Klan any day. Let's break it down.

1. Dunks, Escalades, and Navigators like a motherfucker. Sorry br'er, but if you didn't have one of these or an H2, you wasn't ballin!

2. Avirex and Phat Farm leather jackets. Sweatbands on sweatbands. Back in 2002, people was willing to sweat for their look!

3. Streetball scenes. Before David Stern banned sweatsuits and doo-rags, the NBA and rap culture was kissing cousins (shouts to AI). Jason Kidd tried to kill it, MJ hated on it, and Lil B put the nail in the coffin, but at one time rap and ballin was slim with the tilted brim. And them ugly Art Deco concrete hoop risers? Ye ain't gonna find that in Brooklyn, cuz.

4. Horns. Fuck Spaceghostpurrp for his Memphis jockin ways. We KC and the Sunshinin down here, don't forget the boogie shoes.

5. Big-ass speaker cabinets. Is it a relic of da sound clashes? Better ask an anthropologist bumbaclot. Ya boy appreciate them strictly on an aesthetic and sonic level!

6. Li'l kids dressed like rappers. This ain't a Miami thing, more of a 2000s thing. Do I miss it? Yeah.

7. Halter-tops and jeans like them broads was shopping at the Wet Seal and Forever 21. Fuck being fashion forward, my heart stays at the mall.

8. "Let your girl watch while I pee pee." Ain't nothing more '00s than urination! It's sterile and doesn't really smell that bad. Vote Bernie Sanders in 2016, cause he probably the most pro-urine candidate!

9. Pants big enough to hide a toddler, and spotless white AF1s. Ian Connor has an open invitation to gargle deez nuts, once he pulls down my size 46 Sean John wide-leg jeans.

10. Easter-style pastel palette. Fuck gothic black and whites, and fuck toolin 'round on yachts. The best part of shooting film in Miami is the garish light and color schemes!

3 comments:

  1. I have a CRASS t-shirt. You're not the only one.

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