Blog — Page 269 of 280

(This review contains copious spoilers: if you intend to read the novel yourself, proceed with caution. We're posting it as a blog since it's not strictly music-related, despite being written by a prominent musician. Now read on!)

Joining the vast array of musicians-turned-novelists (wait, what?), Davey Havok of AFI fame throws his hat into the ring with this, his first book. Pop Kids is inspired by "pop stars, fashion models, celebrities, internet porn, social networking, reality TV, sex, drugs and vegan banana bread", and stars a cast of teenagers with dubious nicknames.

It's always a bold move when artists make the jump from one medium to another, and personally I've always treated the move with a little suspicion, like when Michael Jordan reinvented himself as a baseball player after his first retirement. It's not always a given that talents in one area translate to similar skills in another, and I'm not entirely sure this is the case with Pop Kids.

The first thing that hits you about this novel is the sheer amount of branding. Within the first few pages I was left wondering if the product placement was intentional: McQueen, iPhone, San Pellegrino, Hello Kitty and others are names that occur almost as much as those of the protagonists. Maybe this is Havok's way of highlighting the brand-obsessed youth of today and the commercialised culture that dominates the LA scene, but it becomes particularly wearing as the novel plays on.

Then you have the characters: rarely can I remember reading a book with this many unlikeable creations. It's not that they're all obnoxious ciphers, but mostly that they're paper-thin and two-dimensional, to the point where I could barely summon up the energy to remember who was who after yet another exhausting chapter of references to "MK", "Score", "Lynch" and other self-created nicknames (do you know anybody who successfully made their own nickname work?). The protagonist's constant references to veganism and straight edge were both twee and proselytising in equal measures: either we get saccharine lines like "a fresh, locally baked low-fat cranberry scone from Cherie Cherie is waiting for me in the breadbox", or we get preachy asides like "my guests begin poisoning their minds and bodies [with alcohol]". Havok has said in promotional material that Score, the lead character, is not meant to represent the author, but it's hard to not take this view the more these references are shoehorned in.

An unaddressed issue with Score's prominent opposition to alcohol is his nonchalance when it comes to taking advantage of the drunken state of the girls he's sleeping with: "Gross. Wine is just unacceptable. [...] the alcohol could encourage a second round of activities". Perhaps this is just to make a point of the contradictions and confusions of being a teenager, but it still felt like an ugly trait in a character knowing Havok's hardline stance on alcohol.

Similarly, there's a scene midway through where Score, who makes constant references to "Moz" in place of "God", and whose brother's beloved Smiths t-shirt is a prominent plot element, has to go and google Johnny Marr to find out who he is. While Havok is quick to address the "mortification" of his lead character, it feels quite hard to swallow: a huge Smiths fan treating Morrissey as his deity who's never heard the name Johnny Marr before? Giving Havok the benefit of the doubt and assuming he's using this to make another point about the vapid, bandwagon-jumping hipster crowd, all this serves to do is to make the protagonist even more obnoxiously unlikeable.

"I awake to her opulent gaze. In here, here eyes have wildly waxed to an almost golden hue".
- Pop Kids

Characters aside, the actual text of the novel is another difficult challenge. Passages are littered with purple prose, with a highlight being this gem: "I awake to her opulent gaze. In here, here eyes have wildly waxed to an almost golden hue". Without playing the literary snob card, this kind of prose is the sort of thing written by people who really want to call themselves "writers", believing that overly-flowery language and clever reappropriation of obscure adverbs marks them out as a modern-day Wilde. In spoken word readings by Havok from the novel, these passages come alive a little and are granted depth and feeling by the singer's rich, deep voice. On paper, though, they feel overwrought and mood-breaking.

One thing that has to be addressed is the fairly poor attention to detail when it comes to proofreading the text. This is a first edition so of course there are errors that go unnoticed, but the sheer amount of misspellings and poor grammar become hard to ignore as you read: "security breech" was one of my favourites, but there were plenty of references to people: Vanessa "Hudgins", Miley "Sirus", "Agnes Dean" (I presume Agyness Deyn), "heroine" (meaning the drug). Similarly, there's flagrant apostrophe abuse too: "the Hugh's classic" (referring to John Hughes' The Breakfast Club), "Dad make's fresh pesto", and perhaps worst of all, a reference to the musical, "Cat's". Nobody's perfect and errors happen but this doesn't help the feeling that the book is a bit of a vanity project, with little strict editing that it could've benefited from.

The part I've left till last to discuss is the plot. That's because it's by far the least prominent part of the novel: there barely is one. There are seventy chapters in this book. Seventy. But barely anything happens for any of them. There are so, so many copious sex scenes that I genuinely don't want to even contemplate the topic for at least the next week. Had I known before picking this up that it would've been a kind of underage scene kid version of Fifty Shades of Grey I wouldn't have bothered. Constant euphemisms around "glittering joy" or "French dressing" (semen) or "my Producer" and "production house" (penises) make these some of the most awkward and cringeworthy sex scenes ever, not helped by their repetitive frequency. It seems like every other chapter has a girl giving Score an unexpected blowjob in a cinema projection room, or an all-out orgy of seventeen-year-olds watching communal porn. I honestly found myself gritting my teeth as yet another sex scene came up, wondering if I could just skip the chapter.

The story revolves around these illicit "Premieres", which start off as underground film screenings and quickly devolve into free-for-all swingers' clubs made up of local teenagers and even one of their teachers. There's also a somewhat pointless subplot which sees local churches mysteriously burning down, but this is spoilered almost from the opening words as we see the protagonist burning down the cinema at the "end" of story, leaving little mystery as to who was burning down the churches, too. This attempt at Pulp Fiction-esque non-linear narrative is poorly rendered: the novel ends without a clear circular reference back to this point meaning I had to re-read the prologue chapter again to remind myself what happened.

I had expected a grand denouement: there's an unexplained murder (or is there?) and nothing seems to come of it, and we never hear whether Score gets implicated for his presumed role in burning down public buildings. The closest we get is a moment where our hero is hauled into the principal's office, but manages to come out of it unscathed and unchallenged. I genuinely wanted to see him brought down and made to own up to his illicit activities, which probably says something about my weariness with the whole thing by this point. Honestly, the book could've been half its length and still wouldn't have made much of its weak story. I finished the book feeling no warmth toward any of the characters, no interest in what they did next, and a strong desire not to see the words "San Pellegrino", "faded vintage tee" or "oral joy" again for the rest of my life.

We know there's a sequel coming up (or at least other books by Havok). I can say with conviction that I won't be reading it unless some serious editing takes place next time. This smacks too much of self-indulgence: the plot is dull and almost in the background; the characters aren't well-observed and lack any depth; the writing is sloppy and overblown. There are some interesting moments (the repeated, obscure references to moths filling Score's mouth and escaping at inopportune times is genuinely interesting and creative) but these are forced into the background by the loud, dumb sex scenes and their spinoff dramas.

In Havok's defence, he's hardly positioning the novel as a piece of classic literature or everyone-must-read-this mainstream bestseller. It's clearly aimed at an underground/alternative audience with familiarity with the subject matter. Havok's press interviews suggest he's written the book to try to imagine what his youth would've been like in the age of smartphones, the internet and social networking. I therefore expected intelligent and cutting portrayals of disposable culture, empty pop culture sentiment and youthful obsession. Instead, it just doesn't quite manage to make any profound point or statement: it presents some 2D characters and a brief look at their privileged lives, tries -- and fails -- to set up a compelling plot, and then strings these things out like paper dolls, baldly demonstrating that there's almost no substance or glue holding them together. We don't get any sense of something being explored or revealed, except that teenagers sometimes put private stuff on the public internet. We don't feel like the modern sense of blasé, seen-it-all-before attitude has any real impact or meaning. We don't learn why we should care about anything that happens in the text.

Much of the sex scenes feature men urgently pleasuring themselves before finally dumping a wad of "joy" on a couch for someone to clean up later. This feels like an apt metaphor for Pop Kids: masturbatory, self-indulgent, tacky and in need of a cleanup.

Score: 4 / 10

Book info

• Published by: Black Candy Publishing
• Length: too long 320 pages
• Publication date: April 2, 2013
• Homepage: http://www.popkidsbook.com
• Trailer: (yes, books have trailers now): http://www.youtube.com/watch?feature=player_embedded&v=ajfV-7K3Vcc

Tegan and Sara were appreciated by Albany, NY last month when they came to the Upstate Concert Hall, the first time they've visited since the duo released So Jealous, which was in 2004...literally almost a decade ago. "We need to come to Albany more," Tegan Quin declared after playing the first couple songs of sisters' set, which were mostly from their newest accomplishement, Heartthrob, their seventh studio album and most successful in terms of sales, debuting at number 3 on the Billboard 200 chart.

Even though they played almost every song from Heartthrob that night, the girls also stuck to their roots, playing the infamous "Walking with a Ghost," a few from The Con and Sainthood and even added a cover to their setlist (Prince's "When You Were Mine"). They started the night with "Back in Your Head," with Tegan on guitar and Sara on keyboards, which is how it was most of the night.

Probably the biggest showstopper of the night was "Call it Off," a song that at first, seems like a throwaway but it's one of those songs where if you listen to it a couple times, you'll notice all of the idiosyncrasies in the recording...and they definitely pulled them off live as well. Another highlight was during their encore, where they compilled a medley of 9 songs from their various albums throughout the years. It was a good way to get other songs into the set that normally wouldn't have been able to be played due to time constraints. Some of the songs in the medley included "You Wouldn't Like Me," "Hop on a Plane," and "On Directing".

It's obvious on their recordings, but was validated during their live show, that Tegan is the stronger voice of the two. I'm not sure if it's a confidence issue or what it is, since they pretty much have the exact same voice being twins and everything, she's just way more present than Sara.

Since this was the beginning of the tour, the girls were a little rusty with harmonizing together. Not to mention, if it's the first time they're performing new material during tour, it's going to take some time to perfect things. Regardless, the sisters put on a great show and even called themselves out when they weren't on their a-game. They even re-started "Alligator" due to Sara confusing verses, by her exclaiming over the instruments, "No, I fucked up! I fucked up!" The other song they had some severe problems with harmonizing together was "Now I'm All Messed Up," one of my favorites from Heartthrob. It's nice to see a band that can make fun of themselves and be completely aware that they're human and sometimes, musicians will in fact, fuck up. The difference between a good and bad show, is how the band will deal with that. Showing their sense of humor and confidence in their talent, the two definitely prevailed and performed an animated and ecclectic show.

Setlist:

Encore:

Medley (My Number/Monday, Monday, Monday/You Wouldn't Like Me/Superstar/Knife Going In/Hop A Plane/Sentimental Tune/On Directing/I Know I Know I Know)

Living Room

Anthrax, Exodus, High On Fire, Municipal Waste, Holy Grail

First Avenue

Minneapolis, MN

April 4th, 2013

Continuing their recent-ish trend of performing classic albums in their entirety, Anthrax rolled into town as the headlining act on the Metal Alliance Tour to play their 1987 record Among The Living for a sold-out main room at the legendary Minneapolis club, First Avenue.  They brought with them a handful of ripping acts that include newer band Holy Grail, staples of the ‘00s Municipal Waste and High On Fire, and fellow veterans from the first wave of American thrash metal, Exodus.

The start time was bumped up a couple of times throughout the day, but you wouldn’t have known it without first checking the club’s Twitter feed.  Therefore by the time I arrived, I had already missed all but two songs of opener Holy Grail’s set.  If I didn’t know better, I would have thought I’d stepped into some sort of 1980s time warp.  On stage, four guys with long hair, all black everything, and forearms covered in leather and spikes, struck familiar metal poses, while wailing speed metal blasted from their stacked amps.  The crowd was fairly sparse at this point.  Youngsters in throwback flipped bills, skinny jeans and patched up jean vests, thrashed about in a modest-sized pit.  Bearded hessians and off-the-clock professionals sporting crisp Anthrax tee shirts (likely purchased when the Worship Music tour came through town two years ago, or perhaps just 10 minutes prior) milled about the bar areas, staring at their smart phones and sneaking one-hitters.  Without knowing much about the band before walking through the front door, it was difficult for me to tell if Holy Grail were comprised of seasoned veterans or eager twenty-somethings.  Either way it was pretty clear they were well-versed in the way of the thrash.

Municipal Waste took the stage just as the crowd had nearly doubled in size.  It was immediately apparent the band’s special brand of crossover party thrash is better suited for smaller venues where audience participation is encouraged.  While the barrier between the band and the kids deadened the stage diving and pile-on opportunities, it didn’t stifle any of energy being put forth on either side of it.  When the band demanded a circle pit, the people were more than happy to oblige.  As per the usual, lead singer Tony Foresta supplemented their humor-based songwriting with witty between-song stage banter.  Before they began playing “The Thrashin’ of the Christ” (from 2005’s Hazardous Mutation) he introduced it by saying, “This song goes out to Satan.  It’s about thrashin’ in Jesus Christ’s face and kicking Mel Gibson in the balls!”  Similarly he set up “Mind Eraser” (also from Hazardous Mutations) by saying, “This is a love song.”  Which he followed up with, “We love drinking alcohol.”  The songs that garnered the biggest crowd responses were “You’re Cut Off” (from 2012’s Nuclear Blast debut, The Fatal Feast) and “Headbanger Face Rip” (from 2007’s The Art of Partying.)  Everyone in the pit was fist-pumping in unison to the respective choruses.   Municipal Waste ended their set with the title track from The Art of Partying, while colorful streamers and confetti blasted the crowd from cannons on the sides of the stage.

With the club now nearing capacity, High On Fire stepped on stage to break up the would-be thrash monotony with their signature blend of Sabbath-riffs and sludgy doom metal.  Matt Pike and crew’s contribution was short and concise, without a lot of chatter.  When Pike did choose to speak, he kept it brief, as is his wont.  When he introduced “Fertile Green” (from 2012’s De Vermis Mysteriis) he informed the audience very matter of factly, “This song is about smoking weed."  In a brazen act of defiance (and quite possibly, stupidity) a couple members of the crowd up front actually lit up and exhaled large hits of marijuana smoke towards the stage.  Things really picked up near the end of the set.  By the time they wrapped things up with the title track from 2010’s Snakes for the Devine, the audience was left wanting more.  Judging by the crowd reaction, it’s safe to assume anyone that was previously unfamiliar with High On Fire had surely been won over.

Prince’s “Purple Rain” played over the P.A., as thrash metal veterans Exodus entered the stage to the approval of a now sold-out First Avenue.  Long time fans showed their knowledge and appreciation by cheering loudly as guitarist Gary Holt, the only member to appear on every Exodus release dating back to the early ’80, and original drummer Tom Hunting led the charge.  It didn’t take long to get the pit moving either.  The band tore into “The Ballad of Leonard and Charles” (from 2010’s Exhibit B: The Human Condition) as the floor crowd swirled into frenzy.  They effortlessly transitioned into “A Lesson in Violence” (from their classic 1984 debut album, Bonded By Blood) before allowing the committed moshers a little time to breath.  Lead singer Rob Dukes, who’s been with the band since 2005, talked (with no sense of irony whatsoever, I might add) about the decision to use “Purple Rain” as an intro song.  “This is (the club) where Purple Rain was filmed?  We gotta use Prince tonight.”  Knowing the importance of giving fans what they want, and no doubt self-aware that Bonded By Blood is considered a landmark album in the development of thrash metal, Exodus’ set was fairly reliant on songs from that release.  “Piranha”, “Strike of the Beast” and the title track were all played, in addition to the aforementioned “A Lesson in Violence.”  Their set was rounded out nicely with a mix of other material, such as “Blacklist” and “War Is My Shepherd” (both from 2004’s Tempo of the Damned.)  Before breaking into “The Toxic Waltz” (from 1989’s Fabulous Disaster) Dukes instructed the pit to separate into two sections, facing each other.  Then, as the first chord was struck, the groups charged at each other and collided in a mass of sweaty, long-haired humanity.  (It’s what’s known in the hardcore scene as the Braveheart Wall of Death.)  It was a beautiful cap to an already frantic 20 minutes.  They finished up their portion of the evening with the Exhibit B: The Human Condition album closer “Good Riddance.”   

As the stage hands began preparing for the arrival of the headliners Anthrax, a collective anxiety began to wash over the crowd.  Lines for the bathrooms and the bars grew to near unmanageable sizes, while the battle for good sight lines along the sides, in the back, and on the balcony had begun.  Those that had managed to maintain a spot along the railings or at the front of the steps became agitated; refusing to budge for any late arrivers and less-fortunate attendees that anxiously attempted to peak over their shoulders.  At the same time, bodies eagerly pressed into each other, leaving little breathing room for anyone on the main floor. Every inch of available eye space was quickly filling up.

Bassist Frank Bello was first to take the stage, followed quickly by guitarist Scott Ian, vocalist Joey Belladonna, and co.  As the opening riffs of “Among the Living” struck, it was as if a seismic shift forced the whole club to rumble, and when the mosh breakdown hit everyone went fucking bananas.  Belladonna paused briefly to introduce the next song.  “This one is about you guys” he said as he pointed to the floor.  “It’s called...”—and the audience finished his sentence for him—“CAUGHT - IN  - A - MOSH!”    The band played a lengthier version of the song, as the largest circle pit of the evening commenced at a hasty pace.  Near the end of “I Am The Law” Belladonna put in extra effort to stretch out his vocal chords—as if he hadn’t fully warmed up yet—proving why he remains to this day one of the genre’s premier vocalists.  After an especially thrashing rendition of “A Skelton in the Closet” the band put a pause on the Among The Living songs to squeeze in some other material.  Two songs from 2011’s excellent Worship Music bookended a set that included covers of AC/DC’s “T.N.T.” (from their recently released covers EP, Anthems) and “March of the S.O.D.”,  a song that belongs to Ian and absentee drummer Charlie Benante’s lesser known “other band” Stormtroopers of Death.   As they prepared to attack the second half of Among The Living, Belladonna said something about being a lifelong Minnesota Vikings fan, as he normally does when playing Minneapolis, and it was predictably (and sadly, I might add) met with mixed reactions.  He then screamed, “Can we do a fucking war dance in here tonight?!”  The crowd roared back in approval, and the band ripped into “Indians.”  With the strobe lights, double kick drum and chunky riffage, it was pure head-banging ecstasy.  Anthrax finished out the rest the album before returning with an encore that included “I’m The Man” (form the 1987 EP of the same name) and the show-closing Trust cover, “Antisocial” (from 1988’s State of Euphoria.) The left little doubt in anyone's mind that at three decades strong, they are still on top of their game.

Shoutout to Jason Henriksen for the upload.

Setlists:

Municipal Waste

Unleash the Bastards

The Thrashin’ of the Christ

Sadistic Magician

You’re Cut Off

Beer Pressure

Thrashing’s My Business…And Business Is Good

Headbanger Face Rip

Mind Eraser

The Art of Partying

Personal bias: I wish Municipal Waste would have played something from their excellent 2002 split with Crucial Unit.  They still have the best tee shirts though.

High On Fire

Rumors of War

Frost Hammer

Fertile Green

Madness of Architect

Snakes for the Devine

Personal bias:  Matt Pike deserves kudos for continuing to play shirtless, despite gaining a noticeable amount of mass around the mid section.  And every time I see Jeff Matz playing bass with High On Fire, I am reminded how much I miss seeing Zeke live. 

Exodus

The Ballad of Leonard and Charles

A Lesson in Violence

War Is My Shepherd

Piranha

Blacklist

Bonded By Blood

The Toxic Waltz

Strike of the Beast

Good Riddance

Personal bias: Despite Exodus having gone through numerous lineup changes, it hasn’t lessoned my enthusiasm for them.  I think Rob Dukes has done an excellent job of not only covering the old stuff adequately but also carving out his own place in the history of the band, having been with them for eight years now.

Anthrax

Among the Living

Caught in a Mosh

I Am The Law

Efilnikufesin (N.F.L.)

A Skeleton in the Closet

In the End

T.N.T. (AC/DC cover)

March of the S.O.D. (Stormtroopers of Death cover)

I’m Alive

Indians

One World

A.D.I./Horror of it All

Imitation of Life

Antisocial (Truth cover)

Personal bias: While I am a little disappointed  that Rob Caggiano departed the band —mostly because of his superb production work on Worship Music—journeyman Jonathan Donais is no doubt and excellent fill on guitar.  Same can be said for Charlie Benante’s absence from this tour.  It was barely noticeable, as Jon Dette, who’s cut his teeth as a member of Testament and a Slayer fill-in, has clearly immersed himself in Anthrax’s back catalog.  Now that I’ve seen the band do Spreading The Disease and Among The Living in their entirety, I’m really hoping State of Euphoria is next on the hit list.  When Belladonna came out for “Antisocial” wearing a Brett Favre Vikings jersey, it was on some multi-layered, Inception-level type shit for me.

A special shoutout goes to the stage crews, who kept the tear-down and setup between bands moving quickly; and the engineers, who provided superb sound throughout the evening.

@OMG_NOB

In the days following Adam Yauch’s passing in May of last year, many of us nostalgia-stricken fans were searching for words to express how deeply saddened we were by not only the loss of Adam but inevitably the Beastie Boys as a whole.  Someone along the way said something to the effect of, “The Beastie Boys were the Internet before there was an Internet.”  Without even having to think about it, any Beastie fan over the age of 30 had to agree with how incredibly accurate that statement was.  Likewise, it’s on the Internet that I’ve spent the last 11 months scrounging up old Beastie Boys clips as part of my own personal grieving process.  Like this one from 1984.  It’s of the early incarnation of the band, where Kate Schellenbach (later of Luscious Jackson) played drums and Mike D sang.  It was recorded for a NYC public access show called The Scott & Gary Show.  Even though this one was uploaded to YouTube way back in 2007, I hadn’t come across it until last week.  I apologize for the late slip, but this Beastie Boys footage needs to be addressed...

First of all, how great are those graphics for Scott & Gary?  Black magic marker on some poster board, with a still camera shot on it—it’s a reminder that public access TV, like punk rock or zines or anything that employed DIY methodology, was something that virtually anyone could do...no matter how shitty the outcome.  Alright, moving on…

“White Shadow” is my goddamn jam!  To those that are unfamiliar, The White Shadow was a television program that ran from the late ’70 to the early ‘80s.  The basic premise was this: a Caucasian former NBA player takes a basketball coaching job at a predominantly African American and Hispanic high school in South Central Los Angeles, where fairly predictable culture clash-y type things ensue.  I was way too young when it originally aired and grew up without TV for a good portion of my youth, so I never got to see that much of it.  But one of my fondest memories from childhood is visiting my uncle’s house and staying up all night, lying on the floor in front of a little 9” black and white TV set, watching reruns of The White Shadow on a UHF channel.   Anyway, this song is obviously about that show and really important stuff like what time and channel it was on and how it eventually got cancelled, which totally bummed the guys out.  To me, this is pretty much the best song ever written.

I love how after the second half of the strangely-interrupted “White Shadow”, Mike D, who is very much in command despite being a horrendous (AKA-awesome) singer, dismissively waives the host off like, “Wait, we got another song…” He then turns to Ad-Rock and says, “Remember to sing.” (Which Ad-Rock does indeed remember to do.) before proclaiming, “This one goes out to our mothers.”  In typical punk rock fashion, “Egg Raid on Mojo” is sloppy, fast and fun.  It ends with Mike D stating, “That was our new Kiss mastermix version.”  It’s unclear whether that’s a shot at the band KISS or the radio station, KISS FM (I think this was recorded on Valentines Day.)  but it matters little to me either way, as I believe rather hasty endings such as this are a key component of live punk shows.  Johnny  Rotten’s famous line from the end of the last ever Sex Pistols show comes to mind: “Ever get the feeling you’ve been cheated?”

OK, before we leave, let’s take special notice of the sartorial choices going on here.  Kate is wearing a nice V-neck sweater...Ad-Rock is sporting the snap back mesh; a look we will get used to seeing him with, at least until '89...my surprisingly preppy guy, MCA clearly hasn’t discovered the motorcycle jacket yet...but, whoa, wait...let’s talk specifically about Mike D’s green windbreaker for a second.  I know that fashion, like pretty much any fucking thing else, is circular.  That is, "what goes around, comes around."  But I have to wonder; did he time travel forward to the year 1995, visit a Pharcyde video shoot, steal Fatlip’s windbreaker, sew a hood on it, dye it green, and then bring it back to 1984 just to look really awesome while singing hardcore songs about old TV shows and juvenile actions on public access television?  I think want to believe it’s entirely possible…  OK, I know that’s a huge stretch but I just spent 20 minutes of my life Googling “green windbreaker ‘90s rap videos Fatlip time travel” in hopes that I would find some minuscule strand of evidence that would back my theory. I was unsuccessful but I'm not about to just throw that time away.  Let me have this!  Hey, one of the many things the Beastie Boys taught us about life, is that sometimes when you’re committed to an idea you just gotta make it work, even if making it work means admitting that it doesn’t really work at all.  So, uhm, there’s that.  Also, note to self: coin the term “windbreaker hip-hop.” 

Shoutouts to MediaGod for the upload.

February 28th, 2013

As I write this, I am overlooking the Sea of Cortez on the Baja Peninsula from the balcony of my room at a vacation resort outside of Cabo San Lucas, Mexico.  I don’t consider myself the typical vacation tourist, yet for the fourth year in a row now, I find myself spending a week in a warm, luminous locale, doing fairly typical vacation tourist things like, well, spending a week at a vacation resort designed specifically for the typical tourist.  It’s nice to get away for a bit to just lay in the sun, imbibing various items and not doing a damn thing that requires any brain power whatsoever. That is, aside from deciding what kind of cocktails and/or tacos I’m going to order from one of the many attentive employees roaming the grounds.  My day goes a little lot like this: I get up whenever I want.  I eat a peanut butter sandwich in my room.  I go for a swim.  I pick a spot to chill on either the beach or near the pool.  I drink a real sugar Coke or a real sugar Pepsi.  I read a bunch of zines from the pile that has stacked up over the last few months.  I eat some tacos.  I drink some cervezas.  I turn on my iPod and pass out under the blazing hot sun, while some classic reggae like Yellow Man & Fathead, Black Uhuru or The Abyssinians flowss from my ear buds deep into my brain.  I go swimming again.  I drink some more cervezas.  I read a book.  I eat some more tacos, or maybe a quesadilla or a burrito.  I drink some cocktails—usually a Miami Vice, which is half strawberry daiquiri and half pinna colada or a Funky Monkey, which is bananas, chocolate sauce, coconut and either vodka or rum (I can’t remember; it makes no difference to me either way because, you know, it’s booze.)—or even more cervezas while sitting in the hot tub, watching the sun go down over the palm trees.  Back at my room, I usually eat various snacks—a Snickers, ice cream, some strangely-flavored Pringles, etc.—while flipping between Spanish HBO and month-old episodes of crappy American TV shows that I’d never watch back home.  Or, sometimes, like right now, I’ll sit and stare at the moonlight glistening off the ocean and think about really important things like how there’s too many rappers.

As the month of February wraps up, there are some notable things that have come out since my last dispatch.  In the New Mixtapes department…

KRNDN – Everything’s  Nothing

KRNDN is how Krondon from Strong Arm Steady spells his name now, because he’s like, a rapper and stuff.  Everything’s Nothing is his first solo outing, and as anyone familiar with SAS would expect, it’s impressive as hell.  It’s hard to put this into words, so I’m not sure this will make sense anyone besides me, but it’s almost as if Krondon accidently created a better piece of art than Kendrick Lamar very purposefully attempted to create with good kid, m.A.A.d city.  Against a backdrop of smoothed-out beats (by Cardo, DJ Dahi, DJ Khalil, and 321) he interweaves autobiographical memoirs and herb-puffed anecdotes; parading the laid-back, sunny vibe of California rider music.  The sound emanating from your speakers will only enhance the hallucinogenic properties of whatever it is you ingested...if that’s your thing or whatever.  Props for the imagery too, which is very much in the vein of DIY zine art.

Realm Reality – In Grind We Trust

Realm Reality is the rap name of Hollywood actor Rick Gonzalez—the puffy-haired kid from films like Old School and Roll Bounce.  I normally wouldn’t even check out an actor-turned-rapper project, except I have a soft spot for this guy because he was in a basketball movie (Coach Carter) and he played Pat Smear in the Germs biopic, What We Do Is Secret.  (Hoops and punk rock, like hip-hop, are things near and dear to my heart.)   He’s the first artist to be signed to Prodigy’s (of Mobb Deep) Infamous label.  In Grind We Trust is his debut tape.  Having grown up in Bushwick, Brooklyn, Realm’s lyricism revolves around the hard-life corner tales and braggadocios rhymes, typical of East Coast street rap.  Surprisingly, he raps really well.  Although most of the high points come as a result of the many guest emcees.  Joell Ortiz drops in on “The Grey”, while Skyzoo lends a verse on the closer “Can’t Fuck With Me.”  The tapes standout track is “Immortal Ventilation,” featuring AG Da Coroner, Termanology and Roc Marciano, who makes everything he touches about ten times better. 

Black Dave – Stay Black

No sooner had I featured a Black Dave skate video in my last column than he dropped his latest tape, Stay Black.  “All I do is rap – All I do is skate,” states the rapper/skater on “Rap & Skate,” the mid-tape track that in the simplest terms possible sums up what Black Dave is all about.  Although he’s a New Yorker, Dave applies a multifarious approach to rap, successfully flexing mic skills in a variety of regional styles—effectively stirring an alluring cocktail of trap, club and boom-bap.  Lyrically, he’s not saying much you haven’t heard before (see: song titles like “Bitch Nigga Why You Fake?” and “Muthafuck My Enemies!”) but that’s exactly what I like about it—it’s fucking rap music, man!  Also, as someone who was briefly known in certain circles as White Nate, I’m partial to people who use their color-based ethnicity as part of their name.  And shoutouts for using Thrasher Magazine-style logo on the cover work.  (I’ve purchased several hardcore 7”s over the years strictly based on the same font.  Party Fowl anyone?)  Do yourself a favor and download this now.

In the Rap Songs You Should Listen To department...

DJ Skizz - Violence (feat. Ill Bill & Lil Fame)

"Violence" is a track featruing Ill Bill and Lil Fame that will appear on DJ Skizz's upcoming album, B.Q.E.  Do you love portentous beats and rappers talking about pistol-whipping other rappers?  If so, you'll like this.

Durag Dynasty - Spiral Event (feat. Evidence)

This is new joint by Durag Dynasty, the group comprised of emcees Planet Asia, Tristate, and Killer Ben.  "Spiral Event", which features Evidence and was produced by Alchemist, will appear on their soon to be released record, 360 Waves.  As someone who thinks of himself as being up on the current shit, I msut admit, I have to inquire: are people still rocking durags?

Joey Bada$$  -Wendy N Becky (feat. Chance the Rapper)

Joey Bada$$ just keeps churning out the tunes.  This one features his Pro Era stablemate Chance the Rapper, and the jazzy production steez of a one Thelonius Martin. This misogynistic tale reminds me, in more ways than one (see: the use of dollar symbols in their names, sexcapades named after two girls, lots of swearing, etc.) of youthful days cruising around Northern Minnesota with my friend Lee V., while Too $hort's "Paula & Janet" blasted from the tape deck of his Ford Tempo. 

And now for your viewing pleasure, in the Rap Vidoes You Should Watch department...

MED, Blu & Madlib - Burgundy Whip

This the video to a track off of the MED, Blu & Madlib collabo EP, The Burgundy.  Lean back and let that Cali vibe get all up in ya. 

CZARFACE (Inspectah Deck and 7L & Esoteric) - Air 'em Out

CZARFACE is collabo between Wu-Tang's Inspectah Deck and underground veteran duo 7L & Esoteric.  This is the first video from their excellent new full-length album Czarface (that I was supposed to have written a review of weeks ago.  Soon, fingers crossed.)  It's on some mad Tarantino shit.

Brood Baby Presents: L.O.T.D. with R.A. the Rugged Man - "Bootleggers"

And finally, take some time to watch veteran underground emcee and hip-hop historian R.A. the Rugged Man talking about the tape bootlegging days in the second episode of Brood Baby's Lesson of the Day web series.  It is of special interest to me because of the old Yo! MTV Raps footage, and that I can clearly remember my brother and I buying bootlegs of Kid 'n' Play's Funhouse and Heavy D & the Boyz' Big Tyme at a flea market in Idaho back in like, 1990.  The sleaves were just a crappy color copy with no liner notes, and of course, the shit didn't play well either...which in retrospect, we were probably better off for.

In the I Need To Get Back to What's Really Important department...

I think an old episode of Glee is starting, and I'm kind of feeling like some Buffalo chicken wing and limon wedge flavored stackable potato chips.  So until next time, Hasta Luego!

I encourage any and all feedback.  Leave comments here, or if you'd like, I can be reached via email at: [email protected] and on Twitter at: @OMG_NOB.