Tuesday, August 30, 2016


Nice li'l grimy joint comin out the rap metropolis of Huntington, WV. Blame "Grindin," 'cause ya mans is always down for narcoleptic street raps juxtaposed with a hype beat. Despite the presence of some questionable rap jeans and an impostor Ty Money, there's a lot to like about "Mac Talk."

 i owe my soul to the company store

As I went over in my classic purple-shirt-yuppie-in-the-"Peso"-video post, the cornerstore/bodega has played an integral part in the rap video. It's heartening to see it brought back with style.

These guys appreciate the visual menace of a ski mask. The ski mask has a celebrated history in rap, but I'll always remember the not-gay boner I got during the "Shorty Wanna Ride" video, when a masked-up Buck performs an aggressive dance to "Stomp."

Dre Bandzz on some Sonny Carson shit, ice in his veins despite sounding like he's barely entered puberty.

At least in one area, race relations in America have definitely improved. While songs like "Black Korea" and "Cocaine In The Back Of The Ride" had less than approving depictions of the Asian store owner, his Middle-Eastern counterpart has done a better job of adapting to the local culture. In between barking Arabic into his headset, you'll see this guy chopping it up with the locals and pushing dimebags while dressed like he just stepped out of Husalah's closet. You might not like him, but goddamn it you respect him.

unknown pleasures of faygo

The video ends with a long take of a bottle of Faygo. 

Tuesday, August 23, 2016


"quality rap pants" - dj drama

Now I know u be flocking to PRAM MUSIC HYSTERIA! for intellectual discussions of da highest echelon, but we gonna take a break from our regular programming to talk about pants. Rap has a checkered history with denim. Here are some of the worst offenders.

Following Mozzy on Instagram inspired this post. This guy's jeans look like a mid-life crisis creative directed by Vivienne Westwood. Mozzy wears jeans that Adam Ant and Johnny Depp would see and be like, "Nah, them shits is too gaudy." These are the pants you wear when you decide to kill yourself, but only after emptying your bank account and flouting the rules of nature in one final Abu Dhabi blow-out bash.

Fetty rocking the "single mom in the bondage club" look. If you Google worst jeans in rap, he is literally the first result. The Arizona Balloon Festival sweatshirt is dope tho.

The legacy of 2 Chainz will always be tarnished for popularizing the Jon Gosselin look. Polo's popularity in the '90s had journalists trying to reconcile why inner-city black kids would want to dress like preppy white kids. More perplexing: why rappers (or anyone) would want to look like Sunset Boulevard trash.

That said, if I had to choose between ASAP Rocky's Eurotrashaloons and True Religions, I'd have the whole world romping around rockin the Buddhaman like gay choo-choo conductors.

Bragging about not wearing skinny jeans on record, while conspicuously reducing his denim footprint, is the story of why Jay-Z has sucked since 2003. It's hard to believe this tool is the same guy who composed the greatest ode to the greatest rap jeans of all time.

"Let the late great veteran live," he says to the performer striking a Christlike pose.

Skinny jeans reduce sperm count, so how many lives does Wiz have to answer for? Pittsburgh's Pol Pot of Pants.

Soulja Boy deserves a Lifetime Achievement Award in Rap Jeans for his '07/'08 work. When you're trying to get the right fit, a good rule of thumb is to try looking like Dikembe Mutombo doing that thing where you put your knees on your shoes and pretend to be a midget. His output has slowed down, but Soulja is a true god of large pants.

Thursday, August 18, 2016


The artistic merits of "Fuck Donald Trump" were secondary at best, irrelevant at worst. It received critical acclaim for satisfying provisions of an unspoken agenda: hunger for political rap in the mainstream, historically the easiest way to legitimize the genre, and the desperate need for an anti-Trump anthem. Fuck Donald Trump, sure, but the rhetoric of "FDT" falls too often into The Donald's own talking points. The only Mexican mentioned by name is El Chapo; even then it's in the context of violence. After Mexplaining so hard on the original, you'd at least expect Nipsey and YG to get a Mexican rapper on the remix. Instead we have G-Eazy and Macklemore making me want to build a shrine to Lord Jamar.

Where are the Kid Frosts of today? Like Christian rock, Chicano rap is a megalith outside the mainstream, consumed by the thousand despite minimal-to-nonexistent press. YG made overtures in the right direction featuring Sadboy Loko on My Brazy Life. Whereas Sadboy is an extension of Chicano gangbanger rap, King Lil G is a sensitive street rapper softened by pop instincts, a cholo take on the J. Cole formula of conventional lyricism, polished song structure, and Millenial narcissism.

"Cold Christmas" is more along the lines of A-Wax's sad dopeboy mope-alongs, without the hard scumbag edges. When Wax recollects, it's usually about stabbing someone in juvie or an ex-homie or lover who eroded his trust in humanity. In contrast, Lil G's voice cracks with vulnerability when he remembers his mother's cooking: She made me happy with Mexican food...she made the greatest food. Unctuous as he sounds, Lil G's underlying moral core sells better than Wax's white-trash fatalism (I been bangin so long even moms says brazy), where the past is dark and innocence is irretrievable.

Cloying theatrics aside, it's still a pretty good song. A collaboration between Lil G and Kap G called Mexican Gs? Ándale!

Monday, August 8, 2016


Smack smack, bitch! HD's last couple projects was aight but a li'l generic, gave me some real Oakland mixtape rappers circa now is the new New York mixtape rappers circa 1998 type heebie jeebz. Chuuuch. Ain't gonna front like I listened to Pianos & 808s in its entirety; let's be real, that title is a little too earnest for its own good, you'd think he'd be on the cover sitting at a grand piano staring at his hands looking real contemplative and shit, black & white photography and whatever w/ some fuckin Chico DeBarge and Carl Thomas collabs.

This "Chicken Nuggets" tho, I fuck with it. Really I'm an easy mark when it comes to any food-related raps. I could even stomach :) that novelty album MF DOOM made when he was at his most hipster gassed up. And chicken nuggets? Yo, I eat those! So I'm all over this shit like a healthy slather of BBQ sauce on some chix nugz. Lest you think HD was dollar-menu rappin, he spells it out for you that this is a metaphor for something more illicit than breaded poultry: I ain't talkin bout no chicken nuggets ;) ;) ;). I say...what a rogue!

All this chicken talk takes me back to the days when I was working at the box factory, coming home late nights and copping some wings and fries from the fellas at Crown Fried, then slidin over to the Moroccan bodega to cop some Coors tallboys to help me better neglect my BM. Chuuuch! Ay, speakin of chicken talk, Lil Blood and 12 Gauge Shotie got a mixtape called Chicken Talk, thus bearing out my prediction that Guccistalgia is nigh. As with most Lil Blood projects, there is one good song. Peace!!!

Friday, August 5, 2016



My shooters got 'em drenchin like a mop
Then step on a nigga in some socks
She ask me for some shoes, I bought her Crocs

Does any region make punch-you-in-the-face music sound as joyous as Baton Rouge? Steel drums and acronyms haven't got shine like this since "P.I.M.P." More significantly, Sherwood Flame is the first rapper to name himself after a stately Japanese maple. Preserve a leaf between some wax paper and stick it in the Book Of Thugs. RMH Sam gives this one five bags of popcorn and a pair of flip-flops.

The video for "Cross Me" is unremarkable except for the way it typifies a popular underground aesthetic, a downsized cinéma vérité take on the "Ha" video's ghetto reportage: frenetic use of handheld cameras, laser-equipped assault rifles as accoutrements, an ensemble cast of peers who get equal screen time as the putative stars. Blame budgets, parallel thinking, a lack of imagination, or whatever, but it's a style of filmmaking you'll see in every other street video from the Bay to the A (shouts to Kreayshawn). With the possible exception of Detroit, the energy of Baton Rouge rap pairs best with the point-and-shoot minimalism of the style. When Fear played SNL in in 1981, luminaries of various regional scenes took it as an opportunity to prove who went hardest in the pit. If there were some comparable forum for today's regional rap scenes, I like to think Baton Rouge would show and prove.