MEEK MILL: TALENTED UNDERACHIEVER

Meek fooled us all, and we let him.  He came out the bing delivering the kind of hangin-out-the-whip bangers on which his energy is transcendent, like all those lonely bunk-bed hours spent reading soiled Dean Koontz paperbacks gave him time to refocus and streamline his attack.  Dreams Worth More Than Money is aight, but it's decisive proof that Meek is a singles artist.  Meek makes albums like he's reading a pie-chart of demographic research.  He either doesn't know how to make an album that's complementary to his skill set, or he's letting the MMG quality control inspectors meddle too much with the final product.

Someone needs to step in and save him from his worst tendencies.  Meek's always had a penchant for sentimental first-person writing, which can be one of his strengths as an artist, but not when it descends into the kind of turgid balladeering of "All Eyes On You" and "Pullin Up."  This more-is-more maximalism, where every album needs to be "like a movie," is the kind of structural defect we get when a huge swath of today's rap music is based on a misreading of Scarface (1983).  Scarface knows it's tacky and garish and absurd.  If it wasn't self-aware, it would be a mess of comical seriousness.  What somehow works in the film - the schlock and bombast, the mass-market tragedy of Tony Montana - almost never translates to the rules of pop music, despite continued attempts by the children of Cuban Linx.

Meek thinks he's a substance rapper, when style is where he truly excels.  Though generally good, his lyrics resonate more for the way he says them than what he actually says.  No wonder that Bangladesh's contribution is one of the album's best moments.  In a perfect world, Meek would choose only the kind of beats on which his style thrives: minimal, skeletal, and stark, emphasizing rhythm over melody so the raps are in the foreground.  Meek needs Jahlil Beats to lace him with a Hell Hath No Fury.  Irrespective of its critical baggage, this was the album where Pharrell ditched Chad and melody and gave the drummer everything.  This is what I want from Meek: 12 songs, ~40 mins, no lovey-dovey Top Gun soundtrack corndoggin, just flows - impregnable, impetuous, frivolous flows.

MEEK MILL DEADIN THE YEAR, YA FEEL? Y'ALL CRUMBS CAN FIGHT FOR SCRAPS

  
(Thanks to Wale's YouTube account for the hook up!  This will be the only time we link to one of your videos, my doogalah)

The narrative for 2015: Meek Mill been havin a hot year.  After gettin out of jail, he went up to Safaree on some "I challenge you to a duel" shit and probably even got Nicki to rummage his pants at some point.  Chuuuch.  He also been rappin his ass off with the kind of focus that got me thinkin, "Damn, maybe I should hit the clink for a bit.  Do some meditation, rediscover the delights of drawing with crayons, duck the baby moms for a bit."  But then I realize how ridiculous that idea is.  I'm way too pretty to get beaten with a bar of soap in a tubesock, and I still have my own goals to accomplish before I give in to the comfortable life of a prison wife.

Anyway, I was kinda down on Meek after Dreamchasers 3.  I was with him for the first two installments, but ya boy can only take so much inspirational emo-rap.  I half expected Meek to get Elton John on a duet and record a video treatment where he wears a white suit and releases a dove into the air as the sun rises on Sandals Resort.  It's a relief to hear him back on his flossing shit, the kind of "eat a dick" exuberance that is rap music's high water mark.  First he dropped a song called "Monster" that wiped the floor with that Kanye song where Nicki does her irritating Bobcat Goldthwait impression.  Now comes "Basic Bitch," the kinda joint that makes me wanna get my Jameis Winston on in public (Ed. note: not rape).

Meek doing a 10-14 song album consisting solely of Spirit of '85 Rubin/DMX/Smith electrofuturist funk is the recipe for a classic. Unfortunately it's the kind that doesn't sell any records, and I'm more interested in saving the bootlegging industry than the record industry.  Still, I fucks with this style so much I can almost forget how stupid overexposed Migos have become, and remember how a young boy fell in love with "Chinatown" in the simpler times of 2013.

BEST O' THE YEAR 2012 Y'ALL!

Another year down in the books.  It's been a good one, yo!  Personally, I been runnin shit in the J-Hole (Wyoming, stand up!) makin mad cream thru illegal means; I also got my ski instructor's license.  As far as rap goes, shit been poppin off dis year.  Let's get get get it!

2CHAINZ
He sound like a drunk uncle/goose, but you couldn't fux with the Feature King of 2012.  He'd just show up on some track, have a few great put-downs and an equal number of groaners, all delivered in an awkward, often off-beat braying.  Rap game DON RICKLES crossed with FOZZY BEAR and maybe even a little BOBCAT GOLDTHWAIT.  You know why that new A$AP single sounds like it ain't even his song? Cause 2CHAINZ on it.  Well, 2CHAINZ and DRAKE, a/k/a the 21st c. rap game MARK PRICE and BRAD DAUGHERTY.

 

BLACK HIPPY/TDE

Yeah, everyone on KENDRICK LAMAR'S cojones, and rightfully so: he dropped da album of the year.  And unlike the flawed Section 80 LP, he didn't make any major aesthetic missteps, e.g. putting an MOR/Kevin Rudolf-type whiteboy singer on the chorus.  Real talk, that's one of the biggest evils in rap music these days (see BIG BOI'S Sir Lucious Left Foot for the gravest example).  But on top o' that, the underrated AB-SOUL dropped the quasi-conceptual Control System, an album that taught everyone at least one new vocabulary word ("chattel" in my case -- thanks Ab!).  And SCHOOLBOY Q continued to sound bemused and spiteful on Habits & Contradictions, talkin bout drunk drivin and all the things I love.

JUICY J - "BANDS A MAKE HER DANCE"
Dis was the biggest surprise of the year for me.  Never thought JUICY J would reinvent himself as a lovable, ageless rake, unapologetic about his inability to resist certain vices (ratchet pussy, drugs, etc).  This shit is still gettin overplayed, but still gets ppl hyped when it comes on, perhaps because it has an elusive flash of truth embedded in its Dionysian revelry.

TRINIDAD JAME$
Fuck y'all.  Lots of heads was sayin that DRAKE'S "Bitch you wasn't with me shooting in the gym" was the year's best line.  I mean it's fun to say and all, but really?  We can do better, America.  The best line of the year was obviously TRINIDAD JAMES' "Pop a molly, I'm sweatin! Woo!"  The runners-up are 2 CHAINZ' a/k/a Hair Weave Killa's "When ya girl leave me, she need a hair salon!," JUICY J'S "You say no to ratchet pussy / Juicy J cain't," and 2 CHAINZ' "She got a big booty, so I call her big booty."  There were no other good rap lines this year.  Sorry.

THIS PHOTO OF JAY-Z
Damn, look how old he look; moreover, how stupid he looks in that BBC sweatshirt and backwards cap.  You like 46, B!  Wear some age appropriate attire - Sperry topsiders, baggy Dockers, raggedy ass polo shirts. Until then, JIGGA has officially entered "Cool Dad" territory.

MEEK MILL
Along with 2CHAINZ, MEEK MILL owned this year.  He had the radio hits and rapped circles round the comp on Dreamchasers 2.  More importantly, he was involved in one of the funniest rap stories of the year, i.e., his presence in DRAKE'S posse when CHRIS BROWN got his face busted open by an errant champagne bottle.  Thank you for your service, Milly.