THIS WEEK IN HIP HOP
There are better people to talk about Teddy Pendergrass than me (for example, Michael A. Gonzales). I’d be lying if I pretended to be anything more than a casual Teddy P fan. Still, I am deeply saddened that yet another musical legend has passed away. In the past few years, we’ve lost James Brown, Isaac Hayes, Michael Jackson, and now Teddy Pendergrass. The world is cold and so we wrap ourselves in the warmth of music to last through another night.

Here is a short rundown of Teddy P’s direct influence in hip-hop music, i.e. a slew of notable rap songs that sampled from his catalog. I may not have been a die-hard Pendergrass fan but the producers of these records certainly were, and so his influence lives on.

1. The D.O.C. “Portrait of a Masterpiece” (1989) sampled “You Can’t Hide from Yourself” (1977)

More on Teddy Pendergrass and The Rap Songs that Sampled Him

THIS WEEK IN HIP HOP
Wow. It seems like yesterday the world was freaking out about Y2K, and now in the blink of an eye, it’s 2010. The past decade treated me well, and I hope it did the same for everyone reading this, but frankly, it was not too good for the majority of the world’s inhabitants. I’m keeping my fingers crossed that in the next 10 años we make major improvements in the ways in which we treat each other. Anyways, that’s enough of me being thoughtful and preachy, let’s talk about music.

Quan, our other This Week In Hip Hop man, in his unpredictable top 10 list of albums in 2009 requested that I critique his selections, and provide my own. Although I felt that there were some questionable picks to say the least (Juicy J in the top 5?!?), I think his article did a great job of letting the world know that hip-hop as a genre is tremendously diverse, as is the taste of its followers. There is absolutely nothing wrong or contradictory about a die hard Wu-Tang fan enjoying Gucci and Wayne. Hip-Hop is not dead; in fact I think it’s the genre of music most oversaturated with legitimate talent. That’s why I couldn’t bring myself to make my own list of favorite albums from 2009. While I must admit that I did hear a lot of new music last year, I still don’t feel like I even scratched the surface of the quality content that was released. I unfortunately didn’t listen to the new Souls of Mischief, Zion I, Tanya Morgan, The Clipse, UGK, De La Soul, Slum Village, etc… so without experiencing those projects, I don’t feel like I can do justice to critiquing an entire year’s worth of albums. Sorry Quan.

On the other hand, I know that there is a lot of music that I am looking forward to in 2010, so without further ado, I want to let y’all know what I will be keeping my eyes and ears open for this year.

Black Milk, Sean Price and Guilty Simpson | Random Axe
You may already know that I am thoroughly impressed with the quality of music that Duck Down Records is putting out, and from the slew of projects they have slated for 2010, Random Axe is the one that I’m the most excited about. When I first heard that Black Milk, Sean Price and Guilty Simpson were collaborating, it seemed to good to be true, but after they leaked “Monster Babies,” it was official. This group is for real. Unfortunately, Black Milk’s hard drive crashed, and with it all of Sean P’s recorded verses were lost. To make matters worse, Kimbo Price only writes his verses on his cell phone, and he purchased a new one, so the written words were gone too. So it wasn’t released in ’09 like it was supposed to be. Instead, Duck Down is hoping to make Random Axe available to the masses in the first quarter of 2010. As long as Sean kept his morale high through the hardships and made sure to persevere, this album could be one we remember in 2020.
More on Albums To Look Forward To In 2010

THIS WEEK IN HIP HOP
In terms of rap music, 2009 has been both utterly depressing and magnificently awe-inspiring. Through the years, music has slowly become more and more diverse but also more and more fragmented. That fact has never felt more palpable than now. Think about it: in 2019, what will we think of 2009? A decade from now, what song from 2009 will we be able to say “Now THAT was our song”? What song will come on the radio unexpectedly in 2019 (if we still even have radios by then) and unite us all in head-nodding, booty-shaking, lyric-mouthing merriment? It’s a scary thought to think that 2009 might not have contributed anything more to the collective hip-hop canon (if we still even have that by 2019) than Drake’s “Best I Ever Had.”

On the other hand, this fragmentation has led to a ton of really great music. Since we aren’t buying records en masse anymore, most artists kind of stopped giving a fuck about scoring radio hits and have taken rap into bold new territories. DJ Quik busted out the world music crates. Mos Def crafted a cohesive album with approximately one and a half hooks altogether. Gucci Mane came up with 1,000 synonyms for his jewelry. Ghostface Killah formally legitimated the art of “Rap & Bullshit.” Some kids from LA revived hyphy while doing the Running Man backwards in bright skinny jeans. Fuck, even Soulja Boy started experimenting with backpack rap. Yes, God exists. And he’s got his swag turned on.

But before we jump into this “Best Of” list, an editorial note: this is one moonlighting critic’s personal taste in rap, which carries with it plenty of limitations. Not the least of which is time and energy. Try as I might, it takes special circumstances for any one person to really keep up with rap. This is not at all a definitive list. It’s merely a jumping off point to share good music with you. Actually, I’m hoping fellow Jezebel Music rap head, Matt, tells me I’m completely full of shit and then clues me in on everything I missed. And I hope you do the same for me too. (For “The Best Rap Albums of 2009: Part 1” go here.)

5. Juicy J | Hustle Till I Die
For Three 6 Mafia, 2009 was the year that the group went back its horrorcore roots (after all, “Three 6” = “666”). DJ Paul released an album called Scale-A-Ton. Juicy J dropped Hustle Till I Die. Imagine about 15 variations on the main theme from The Exorcist. Then set that to Southern rap drum programming. That’s the meat of Juicy J’s album. This is dark, heavy gothic crunk full of dissonance, minor chords and keys, ominous strings, and a level of aggression that, rather than letting up, usually only intensifies. Juicy J is an extremely dynamic producer. His beats frequently mutate mid-song into more exciting – albeit more grotesque – abominations. “My Niggaz” slows from an energetic bounce to a menacing, sledgehammer-like thump. The minimalistic “Purple Kush” consists of little more than some tinny drums, pulsating bass, and incessant chanting…until the second verse when guest rapper Gorilla Zoe raps through a bass-heavy voice filter…and then the third verse when grim church organs creep in, turning a relatively fun weed track into something wholly unsettling. Hustle Till I Die will get you amped to beat the crap out of someone and use their blood in a demonic ritual.
More on The Best Rap Albums of 2009: Part 2

THIS WEEK IN HIP HOP
In terms of rap music, 2009 has been both utterly depressing and magnificently awe-inspiring. Through the years, music has slowly become more and more diverse but also more and more fragmented. That fact has never felt more palpable than now. Think about it: in 2019, what will we think of 2009? A decade from now, what song from 2009 will we be able to say “Now THAT was our song”? What song will come on the radio unexpectedly in 2019 (if we still even have radios by then) and unite us all in head-nodding, booty-shaking, lyric-mouthing merriment? It’s a scary thought to think that 2009 might not have contributed anything more to the collective hip-hop canon (if we still even have that by 2019) than Drake’s “Best I Ever Had.”

On the other hand, this fragmentation has led to a ton of really great music. Since we aren’t buying records en masse anymore, most artists kind of stopped giving a fuck about scoring radio hits and have taken rap into bold new territories. DJ Quik busted out the world music crates. Mos Def crafted a cohesive album with approximately one and a half hooks altogether. Gucci Mane came up with 1,000 synonyms for his jewelry. Ghostface Killah formally legitimated the art of “Rap & Bullshit.” Some kids from LA revived hyphy while doing the Running Man backwards in bright skinny jeans. Fuck, even Soulja Boy started experimenting with backpack rap. Yes, God exists. And he’s got his swag turned on.

But before we jump into this “Best Of” list, an editorial note: this is one moonlighting critic’s personal taste in rap, which carries with it plenty of limitations. Not the least of which is time and energy. Try as I might, it takes special circumstances for any one person to really keep up with rap. This is not at all a definitive list. It’s merely a jumping off point to share good music with you. Actually, I’m hoping fellow Jezebel Music rap head, Matt, tells me I’m completely full of shit and then clues me in on everything I missed. And I hope you do the same for me too. (For “The Best Rap Albums of 2009: Part 2,” go here.)

10. Lil Wayne & Juelz Santana | My Face Can’t Be Felt
Lil Wayne fans have been hailing the No Ceilings mixtape as Weezy’s triumphant return to rapping form after a year or so of coasting on the superstardom afforded from Tha Carter III. And yeah, he has come back to snapping some pretty good punchlines. But I think his greater strength is in the raw emotion and truth he spills out from time to time. To date, two of the most memorable musical moments of Lil Wayne’s career have been the pained, pleading, nearly-crying hooks to Playaz Circle’s “Duffle Bag Boy” and The Game’s “My Life.” My Face Can’t Be Felt contains more of these vulnerable moments, including the heartbreaking “How Can Something” in which Lil Wayne confesses in great writerly detail the pain of love lost and what that’s meant for the child that’s left in between the two estranged lovers.

More on The Best Rap Albums of 2009: Part 1

THIS WEEK IN HIP HOP
It’s sad that ever since Nas’ first shock album title gimmick in 2006, hip hop discussions have mostly revolved around whether or not hip hop is dead. Everyone yaps on about how much music sucks now compared to the Golden Age of their fantasy. Then everyone else yaps back when they find something half-decent, trying to prove to the hip-hop-is-deaders that it isn’t dead after all, you cynical dummies. Even The New Yorker got in on the game recently, declaring Jay-Z’s loss of trendsetting ability as a sign that hip-hop was “aging out” of relevancy.

But the worst consequence is that many great artists start making music with this focus, music to “save hip-hop.” They make art for art’s sake, forgetting the sage words of Dead Prez: “it’s bigger than hip hop.” G-Side has clearly not forgotten. While artists from Raekwon to Slaughterhouse try to correct the ways of unartistic, lazy hip hop, G-Side recognizes music as a tool to connect with people.

G-Side is a rising group out of Huntsville, Alabama, consisting of rappers ST 2 Lettaz and Yung Clova. Huntsville International is their latest project, a title culled from the name of their town’s airport and also one that reflects their broadening horizons. Last year, the duo found modest success with the release of their album, Starshipz & Rocketz, a space-age experience taking the down-to-earth wisdom and humility of Outkast to a new sonic level. The well-received album landed them on the radars of a handful of influential niche blogs. This bit of success was enough to let them travel outside of Huntsville for the first time in their lives, and their trip is an inspiration.
More on G-Side | Huntsville International

THIS WEEK IN HIP HOP
Wow, so I guess I missed the part where writers, critics, hipsters, and hip-hop heads stopped giving a shit about either Atmosphere, Murs, or Aesop Rock. I found this out as I was in the process of reviewing Felt 3: A Tribute to Rosie Perez. The album is the latest in a series of collaborations between Slug of Atmosphere and Murs in which they choose one producer for the whole album (this time around, it’s Aesop Rock) and loosely dedicate it to a bodacious cult favorite celebrity woman (the first two were tributes to Christina Ricci and Lisa Bonet). It really screams “Gimmick!” But you’d think with all this gimmickry on its side, the project would make some blip on the critical and collective radar and I’d be able to steal ideas from a bunch of other reviews of the project to write my own review, like I usually do. But no, all these critics and writers had to be selfish and leave me to form an original opinion. Those bastards!

All three artists must be painfully aware of these shifting attitudes towards their music. But as it turns out, Felt 3 isn’t a last-ditch attempt by these three former critical darlings to regain the love and adoration that is now gone. Instead, the album is a series of “Fuck You’s” to haters of all varieties. On “Felt Chewed Up,” both emcees address their fading hipster love. Murs scoffs as he “watch[es] the hipsters hop to the next thing, fad to fad so depressing.” Slug advises them to take their “prosthetic tits” and “fake politics” away and “get off his dick.”

Writers and critics don’t fare any better. Slug and Murs have seen their stock amongst critics go the way of the recession now that honest, everyman rap is no longer the “next” thing. On “Whaleface,” Slug speaks plainly about these critics: “Spoken like you know truth, stop pretending/ check up on yourself, tell me who you’re condescending?” Later, on “We Have You Surrounded,” Slug even namedrops Pitchfork as part of a farmyard metaphor, implying that Pitchfork is merely a tool to keep artists (horses, in the metaphor) from roaming freely.
More on Slug & Murs | Felt 3: A Tribute to Rosie Perez

THIS WEEK IN HIP HOP
As the hip-hop world pretends that Beanie Sigel’s union with G-Unit will lead to anything more than an extra press release and a few more copies of 50 Cent’s new album sold, actual rap music rolls on without giving a shit. And now, actual rap music seems primed to dump a load on the hip-hop world with the advent of Jay Electronica.

Jay Electronica is an up-and-coming rapper from New Orleans, though you’d be forgiven if you couldn’t have guessed that. Jay Elec shares much more in common with Nas as a rapper than N.O. brethren like Juvenile or Lil Wayne. He also prefers post-Dilla soul chops over N.O. bounce or country blues rap. While he doesn’t seem destined for superstardom (though, who knows? Can anyone ever predict these kinds of things?), he has been building steam among message boards and blogs for the past two years and I really think there’s something there. Put it this way: in an Internet world where rappers flood blogs with their freestyle-per-day-for-a-long-ass-time sabbaticals, Jay Electronica has still managed to cultivate an increasingly larger buzz by dropping half a song once every few blue moons. A radio rip of Jay’s “Exhibit C” – a radio rip that skips at times and cuts off short at the end, no less – hit the Internet a week and a half ago (which is about nine life cycles in Internet time) and people are still geeking on just how good he is. Considering this buzz and the list of influential friends Jay has made (e.g. he’s Erykah Badu’s newest baby-daddy, he produced the first track on Nas’ last album, he’s apparently BFFs with Mos Def, and he’s working with producer Just Blaze), the conditions seem fair for him to make some pretty big waves in music. Here’s an all too-short introduction to Jay Electronica’s music, a collection of songs that I hope show off his different strengths:

“Act 1: Eternal Sunshine”
This is the first song that seemed to really put Jay on anyone’s radar. It’s a big flashy move, jacking the theme from a big indie movie hit and rhyming on top without any drums. But it still works. Here, Jay raps about his resistance to mainstream radio and TV. It’s a tired concept for indie rappers but Jay Electronica’s approach is wholly different. Indie rappers get so caught up in bitterness and believe that radio should play “good” music for the principle of rewarding “good” music. Jay is able to step outside of his own struggles as an artist and show what mainstream radio really means for real people, how it affects them. He explains that it’s bigger than just music. It’s about how people are able to connect with each other. That’s one of the key qualities about Jay Electronica’s music: he empathizes with people, not rapping to us, but for us.

More on What The F*ck Is A Jay Electronica?

THIS WEEK IN HIP HOP
Hip-hop concept albums are walking contradictions (well, spinning contradictions if heard on CD or vinyl; streaming contradictions on your mp3 player). Even though the artists put so much effort into cohesiveness and sticking to the concept, the albums are rarely enjoyable as front-to-back listens. The album suffers from the artists’ stubborn dedication to the concept. It starts coming off kinda corny. Thankfully, sometimes the music is good enough so that if you just give in to that corniness, you can get some enjoyment out of it.

Shafiq Husayn’s latest, Shafiq En’ A-Free-Ka, is one such concept album. Shafiq is one half of Sa-Ra Creative Partners, a production duo who frequents the Okayplayer Soulquarians set, even having produced much of Erykah Badu’s New Amerykah pt. 1 album. Coming from such a “conscious” background, it was inevitable that one of them would fuck around and go to Africa. But in case the weird spelling and punctuation of the title didn’t tip you off, the album has a double meaning. “Ka” is a word from an ancient Egyptian language referring to one’s soul, mind, or spirit. So at the same time that Shafiq hearkens back to the Motherland, he’s also letting us know he has “a free spirit” No, seriously.

Once you get over the indulgence of it all, you find out that this instrumental album is basically just the late J Dilla filtered through free jazz with some African tribal signifiers thrown in for good measure. Which is pretty good. Dilla-esque drums abound, forming a solid foundation for the entire album, keeping Shafiq relatively grounded as he travels to Africa, space, the U.N. building, and, oftentimes, through to something resembling enlightenment.
More on Shafiq Husayn’s Latest: Shafiq En’ A-Free-Ka