(1st round match-up 20 of 27)
Somehow I’ve sort of landed on this Mon-Wed-Fri schedule
with these things, which is really weird to give yourself some sort of
self-schedule, when this is essentially casting rocks into a creek out in the
woods all by yourself. Sure, you might nail the sweetest flat slate stone seven
skip moment of perfection, but does it exist if no one is there to confirm it?
The answer is of course it exists. And the goal is to skip
the stone, not have someone see it. There are no professional stone skipping
leagues I am aware of, and even if there were it would be fringe nonsense relegated
to ESPN online coverage of some sort. I am a person who just writes shit as it
pops into my heart, and sometimes I utilize triggers such as “albums classified
as hip hop by Pitchfork the website and included in their year-end Albums of
the Year lists” which is nothing more than my own convoluted writing prompt. I
had considered continuing these thematic feature beyond the Pitchfork Albums of
the Year concept, because I enjoy it immensely actually, and do new hip hop
releases; but after long hard thinking on the subject, I decided fuck that,
because that gets into capitalism and covering “new releases” which enforces
the notion to anyone who might happen across it that somehow the new shit is
always the most important shit, including that which to have opinions about.
Fuck that. But I will continue the project, just with a different them for the
next set of 81 albums. (Fuck that’s a lot of albums to go through, as I have
for this, and we are nearly two-thirds of the way through it now. Projects I
should really not bother with – as says the tag – indeed.)
Freddie Gibbs & Madlib – Pinata
(released March 18, 2014; #43 on 2014 Pitchfork Albums of
the Year list)
In this day and age of two features on every track and nine
producers per mixtape, I really still am hardcore supporter of the single
MC/single producer project. I am standing on the terraces of single MC/single
producer stadium, no seats, wearing my freshest U.S. Polo Association gear
purchased from the knock-off store, which will only be fresh for two washes because
that is the nature of off-brand motherfuckers like me. We don’t wash well. I am
standing there, hardcore support for single MC/single producer, and though now
stone cold sober, and also policed by the authorities who try to enforce their
mass manufactured project bullshit on me, I will fight you motherfuckers who
believe otherwise in the alleys and tunnels when the internet cops aren’t
around.
On top of this natural inclination to support this type of
project, how can I not love Madlib too? The motherfucker’s a genius, who digs
far beyond most folks binary constrained ability to even think about digging,
and proud to say as a cultured consumer of the industry now known as hip hop, I
still got my old ass Tha Alkaholiks “Mary Jane” single which was first
commercially released shit tha god ever blessed with his fingerprints. Also on
top of this natural inclination to support this type of project, I love the
fuck out of Gangsta Gibbs’ rust belt struggle rap style, which has never – in this
aforementioned age of leaning on a gang of other motherfuckers to feature to
make your shit seem more relevant – asked a single other fucker to stand next
to him. Shit, even when there are features (like Danny Brown on this joint) it
sounds more like a google drive download where they never sat close to each
other than any other rapper’s features do. Gibbs rolls solo, very clearly.
All that being said, this is a great project, but it does
become repetitive, not relative to larger hip hop world, but in relation to
itself. Still though, when I listen to some of the other shit that’s come out
around the same time, or even halfway considers itself the same style, I’d
rather listen to a thousand more Madlib/Freddie Gibbs projects. Is another one
coming? FOUR STARS (****)!
Shabazz Palaces – Lese Majesty
(released July 29, 2014; #35 on 2014 Pitchfork Albums of the
Year list)
Not gonna speak too hard on this album because it is a
mystic album and caught me at an esoteric time thus it was a perfect thing to
listen to as I attempted to reconcile my love for cholo hand styles with the
Arabic alphabet. SEVEN STARS (*******) number of god even god of dirt
(especially god of dirt)! (Also, for you alternative supreme mathematicians, 7
times 10 – base of counting – minus 1 – for ego – equals 69, thus dirtgod times
all possible digitry minus bullshit sense of self equals yin-yang position of
creative dominance/submission.)
Rich Gang – Tha Tour Part 1
(released September 29, 2014; #33 on Pitchfork Albums of the
Year list)
This is the new-fangled pharm-to-table wailing against the
madness of cyborgian post-industrial “everything is okay” gridlock that bothers
me. Have you ever abused Ambien? If so, have you ever had the Ambien people
visit, those weird ghosts who stand over your bed while you sleep? (If you don’t
know what this is, don’t bother finding out in real life on your own, just
trust me; or ask somebody who has hardcore experience with Ambien.) This is
music made by those devilish metaphysical demons, or at least for those demons.
I’m not trying to say this is not rap music, because when listening to it, it’s
obviously (to me, an expert whiteboy) that this is natural derivative (no diss,
because it builds off, not bites) of late mixtape era Lil Wayne, taking his
sing-rap wailings to the nth degree. But I can’t get down with it, because it’s
allowing demons to be your entertainment, and I will only do that when it’s
cool shocking demon shit like thrash metal or early Triple Six Mafia or
Bushwick Bill’s “Chuckwick” song. This type of demon shit is actually Yakubian
capitalism as practiced by people of all colors who have embraced neoliberal
doctrine of global oppression of free spirits by brand marketing. (Oddly
enough, Birdman is on top of this project, as well as Rich Homie Quan and Young
Thug’s career, perhaps literally, because in the boardroom or the bedroom, I
doubt Birdman’s a sub.) But being this mixtape actually works specifically to
hype an upcoming tour (that of course is long past), I shall go with TWO STARS
(**) to keep it above the bare minimum. Plus I may want to relapse.
THE WINNER: I really love the Pinata project, but this was
about esoteric mythologies and manifesting a mycelium-like resistance beneath
the surface against manmade grid that’s been applied, including at the digital
level. Shabazz Palaces gets this, better than recognizable words could explain
for you to understand. Honestly, if you don’t understand it already, you are
likely too connected to the gridlock to even begin to understand it, even if a thousand
men wrote a million words each. (They have already.) (Yet you still don’t get
it.)
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