Friday, March 17, 2017


Waah waaah! I don't like very much New Rap in 2017! Waaaaaaaah, I'm a baby! The only new shit ya boy rly excited about is SOB x RBE + OMB Peezy, so at the risk of another dancehall post (comin soon bitchez), here is a Peezy feature with some guy named Wntrs, who I guess is one of those mischievous but ultimately squeaky clean post-College Dropout types in the mold of a J. Cole with maybe a li'l Anderson Paak limited-edition Supreme headwrap neo-rap&bullshit t'rown in to cover all demographics. Peezy goes in over some minimal percussion, stumbling a li'l here and there, but delivering them feel-em-in-ur-heart raps that give more credence to Boosie comparisons than his squeaky-ass goblin voice. Skip to :41 for skr8 Peezin. CHUUUUUUUUCH

Tuesday, March 7, 2017


I was at the rap club the other day and some of my rap friends asked me why I'm writing so much about dancehall these days. I stroked my chin intellectually and took a sip of my Four Loko (neat). Maybe it's cause 2K17 rap has been pretty uninspiring so far*. It's great the Migos Meme Team been on hyperdrive, but Culture is the Migos we've always known in a new, even more self-aware wrapper - a few brilliant songs + hi-NRG filler + downbeat filler.

The Migos are who we thought they were! And we let them off the hook!

Meanwhile Future is trying to be Lorde if she made Honest. At least he's past the sad pillhead phase.

Maybe it's cause dancehall hasn't quite reached the inevitable, all-consuming postmodern tipping point, where every song contains a thinkpiece and the germ of an ironic film-school video. Ya we get it, the internet is weird. When the meme instinct consumes dancehall, I'll move on to gospel; and when Kirk Franklin starts putting the Lord in air quotes, I'll move on from that, and so on and so forth until I'm memed entirely out of existence. CHUUUUUUUUUCH!
*I guess Shy Glizzy (I refuse to call him Jefe) got some joints on the latest

Friday, March 3, 2017


Things done changed since the 2 Live and Gucci Crews ruled Dade County. When 808 kicks fell out of vogue, the identity of Miami rap splintered into something incoherent and upsetting: the fatboy yacht-rap of Rick Ross, Pitbull's tawdry ¡Latino!™ pap, Flo Rida's corporate team-building pop-rap. With the (arguable) exceptions of Trick Daddy and the Raider Klan, the only true regional sound has been on underground dance songs - the blurred lines of stick, jook, and the grey area between fast music and Philly wu-tang.

In 2015, Denzel Curry recontextualized stick music to surrealist effect on "Underwater." Kiddo Marv welds the same local influence to the Haitian roots-fusion Wyclef mines when he's not mining his charity. Past experience shows this kind of thing can turn quickly into gimmickry; but already responsible for the most recent local classic, it might be the Haitian contingent who rehabilitates Miami rap.