[HH3os] The Long.Run.the.R.A.P. trio

(2nd round match-up 6 of 9)

Was trying to sit in the backyard and listen to the crows, but then it started drizzling so I had to bring my ass in from my stank ass standing desk of four milk crates with pawn shop laptop up on top back in the house, which as usual is chaos of five-plus tornados swirling around, hopefully in the same direction a lot of times so that we not blowing each other over with emotional chaos. Just keep saying chaos and that’s what it is. Late capitalism post-traumatic stress new world disorder for all. Peace and love to you all, and I don’t say that in corny old hippie way; I say that in real talk belief we likely gonna be shooting each other in the face on this Earth in abundance in the next ten years. So peace and love. Look around immediate world (fuck the fear transmission that cause hopelessness), and do the best you can with that environment. Thinking beyond that will overwhelm a motherfucker.

Killer Mike – R.A.P. Music

(released May 15, 2012; #13 on 2012 Pitchfork Albums of the Year list)

HERE COMES THA HOT PITCHFORK:

Limiting himself to one producer, legends-only guest spots, and a real sense that he'd better make this one count, Killer Mike rises to the occasion. But while this record is sure to please longtime fans, it also works as a compelling introduction. As in the past, R.A.P. Music takes a stand politically without going off the grid into conspiracy theorizing or sounding so circumspect that you'd think Mike himself was running for public office.

Honestly I didn’t realize that this whole album was produced by El-P and some other cartoon dude until reading the Pitchfork review, so I guess I learned something. But guess what? You learn shit in public school too, but they still brainwashing your simple ass to become a human resource. This Killer Mike album is so good, and does stay true to his old shit while also being something you could play at a rooftop gentrified ppl’s party, and nobody would get mad. And yet somehow that shit feels like part of the problem too, like the fact fake motherfuckers think they’re somehow more real because they renovate a warehouse in a poor neighborhood, and don’t hate the poors though they also don’t interact with the poors, and eventually help cause more poors to be pushed (property taxes, increasing rents) off to whatever dilapidated suburbs are left behind by the good gentrifiers grandparents. FUCK Y’ALL FAKE MOTHERFUCKERS. Kinda wish along with shooting dirty cops, Killer Mike was shooting fake motherfuckers too. All too often in hip hop the realm of fake is defined by the realm of realness as established, so you can’t just roll through like New Brooklyn and shoot motherfuckers on fixies. But really, I’d enjoy that a lot, both in art, and in real life. Still though, for a fat southern dude who’s got a good martial set-up, a couple small businesses, and all the weed hook-ups he could want, Killer Mike remains about as revolutionary as fuck as you could be. Much love to that dude. SEVEN STARS (*******)!

A$AP Rocky – Long.Live.A$AP

(released January 15, 2013; #39 on 2013 Pitchfork Albums of the Year list)

Lolol, more like Bitchfork:

A$AP Rocky sounds natural in every setting; along with his command of rhythm and cadence, this is his greatest gift.

While this is true, I still firmly put Rocky’s masterful lane-riding skills to good coaching. Yams had him, and even Ferg tuned the fuck up. With A$AP Ferg, that’s even more obvious, because that dude really is not all that great. But Yams had him performing way above his combine scores. With Rocky, it’s hard to say – there might be touch of RG3 to Rocky. He was a blue-chip prospect, had the aura, the skills, and once he got hooked up to where he could be fucking super models in the bathroom at the Met Gala, kinda hard to stay hungry, you know? This tape has aspects of that, where the dark broody style is getting replaced by the fashion brand street brvh doing lines on the card access only floor of the Marriott fairly regularly. But props to Rocky for living the Amerikkkan Dream, and props to Yams for being the Puerto Rican Bill Belichick.

In terms of this album, no lie, each time I listen to it, I get more drawn in. I am in pretty hardcore don’t give a fuck mode lately, and this album most perfectly make beautiful hope of not giving a fuck, where you can absolutely not give a fuck about every fucking thing on Earth with the biggest smile on your face every morning, because the beneficial Universe has given another sunrise for you to put on something you feel fresh in, and go out there and not give the best fuck you can. NINE STARS (*********)!

Run the Jewels – Run the Jewels

(released June 26, 2013; #28 on 2013 Pitchfork Albums of the Year list)

Oh man, I know Run the Jewels as content clicker gonna create the hottest of Pitchfork takes:

The deepest messages of Run the Jewels are the ones dedicated to figuring out just how many ways there are to threaten bodily trauma in the most over-the-top language possible while not actually coming across like some screwfaced shock-value manchild. It feels as though the options of either catching a bad one or riding with them are easier to decide between because the latter sounds like it'd be a hell of a time anyways. And there's this sense of friendly, unspoken one-upsmanship between the two MCs that keeps upping the stakes.

Well, I don’t know about all that. I guess I’ve never really felt like El-P would shoot me, and honestly Mike seems so fucking nice I don’t think he’d shoot me as well. But rap music about shooting people for pretend is a strong and long historical sub-genre. But Run the Jewels is too Adult Swim-ready for me sometimes, and I love it, yes I really do, but I also feel uncomfortable about it because of the chump motherfuckers who love it. People will suggest this is unnecessarily contrarian to be that way, but to me, I consider it the hip hop version of “trimming the fat”. Run the Jewels is fat as fuck, but lame ass people swear by it, so unfortunately I have to trim the fat, just to keep people that would otherwise harsh my lounge from getting too close. Fuck y’all fake motherfuckers. Still though, solid SIX STARS (******)!

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THE WINNER: Perhaps Rocky winning this round is an act of contrarianism, but perhaps it is sign I really want him to advance so I have excuse to take my spirit formula and sit in the field with the headphones blasting this a couple more times. Fuck it, not even headphones, I’m pulling the yard speakers out the back of the shed for this. Might put some sand down in the horseshoe pits and call a few boys up and just shock and awe the bitch ass neighbors with confederate flags and shit. Fuck y’all fake motherfuckers, forever.