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
For those of you on top of your hip-hop, you may want to hate on the fact that I’m writing about the debut album from Fresno CA rapper, Fashawn, well over a month since it was released by One Records. But I have to admit, I listened to Boy Meets World for the first time this week, and ever since, it’s pretty much been all I can think about. So I couldn’t think of anything I’d rather write about, either.

I’d read Fashawn’s name in a few blog headlines but didn’t really think anything of it. There are so many different rappers that the various websites are trying to push heavy, from Curren$y to Wiz Khalifa, that it’s impossible to follow them all, and more often than not they’re disappointing. Then this past Monday, I was on YouTube while at work, listening to some tracks off of Blu and Exile’s classic album Below The Heavens, and I noticed that in the comments section someone mentioned that Exile produced Boy Meets World, too. I’m a big fan of Exile, especially after Below The Heavens, which easily makes my top albums of the decade, so for that reason alone I decided that I had to give Fashawn another shot. Let’s just say that I couldn’t be happier that I did.

The thing that most stands out about Fashawn is the amount of self reflection and critical thought that he includes in his music. At times it almost seems impossible that a 20-year-old experiencing the world beyond his hometown for the first time could be so insightful. Yet at the same time, he infuses his lyrics with massive amounts of street knowledge and California pride, that, when combined with his straight-up famished-sounding delivery, prevents his music from getting becoming inaccessible, holier-than-thou backpack rap. Exile on the other hand is a sample based producer who digs deep into old jazzy records and creates beautiful and relaxing beats that make you want to lay in bed and contemplate life.
More on Fashawn | Boy Meets World

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

Since Veteran’s Day was last Wednesday, I thought that it would be a good time to give a little history lesson on Canibus, the only rapper I know to have served in the United States Armed Forces. In the ’90s, Canibus was the most anticipated rapper in the game. With his diverse vocabulary, and his gravely and aggressive tone, Canibus absolutely murdered every song he was featured on. One of my personal favorites was his verse on The Firm’s “Desperados”. Despite solid efforts from AZ and Nature, when  Can rapped first, it really didn’t matter who came next. (Although, one can only wonder what it would have sounded like if Nas sacked up and rhymed on this track, rather than choosing it to be one of the only songs on the entire album on which he wouldn’t rap. But that was what Canibus did. He put fear into other incredible MCs. Look at this classic cypher with the once-in-a-lifetime lineup of Mos Def, DMX, Big Pun, John Forte, and Mic Geronimo. Rather than go second, which is where he sat in the cypher, Canibus proclaims that he deserves the right to anchor, and no one disagrees. On the one hand, this is testament to his talent. On the other, it is exactly this greater-than-thou mentality that led to the downfall of his career.
More on Canibus: Not Just a Rap Veteran