Finally Famous
09:00AM ET July 1st, 2011
Contributor: DeAndre Rozan
A Rocky Williform Company
Rating:
Despite a hit song featuring R&B superstar Chris Brown and several appearances on the hottest talk shows of the moment--never mind the fact that he's the first "Next Big Thing" from Kanye West's G.O.O.D. Music imprint--Big Sean isn't quite the household name some of his fans think he is. That may seem like a ridiculous thing to say considering Finally Famous is his debut album (technically-speaking); but in this era of Internet infamy when contemporaries like Drake and Wiz Khalifa seemed to be industry veterans before they ever recorded an album, it's almost quaint to see a young artist who hasn't been splayed all over every magazine cover and blog site non-stop for months.
But the drawback to that, when listening to Sean's Finally Famous, is that you realize how this album might not do a whole lot to set Big Sean apart from his peers.
But Finally Famous is an assured-if-somewhat-indistinct debut album from a clever emcee who throws enough pop culture references in his rhymes to be on par with very early Common. Like Common--or at least, the teenage Common Sense--Big Sean shouts out TV shows, movies and seemingly anything else that pops into his head. It's all fodder for his punchlines.
The Detroit rhymer spits heat over an MC Hammer sample on "Dance (A$$)"--a song that works far better than it should, and Sean even finds a way to work Pootie Tang into the lyrics somehow. But its impossible to hear a song like "Memories (Pt. II)" and not think 'here's another quasi-introspective stoner track a la Kid Cudi or Wiz Khalifa.'
“I swear I’ve been through everything in life but the coffin/You say the sky’s the limit, hi bitch, I’m moonwalkin’” he raps on "So Much More." The track epitomizes Finally Famous as an album: its pretty much your standard-issue 'this is my story' sort of track, but Sean saves it from being pedestrian through the sheer wit and sharpness of his rhymes.
Big Sean didn't have the white-hot spotlight glare on him that Drake did in the months leading up to the release of Thank Me Later, so Finally Famous won't be anywhere near as polarizing as that record was. But when hearing Sean toss off half-baked lines like "“Sometimes I dream bigger than I live/Sometimes I think better when I’m lit," one can't help but wish that he'd been allowed to take a few more risks and assert his vision. Because as it stands, Finally Famous is a strong album, that could've been a remarkable one had he stepped outside the box.
Planet Pit
06:00AM ET June 24th, 2011
Contributor: DeAndre Rozan
A Rocky Williform Company
Rating:
Glossy. Glossy. Glossy. That's the best word to describe Planet Pit, the latest album from Miami emcee Pitbull. Marking the rapper's return to English langauge-recording after the all-Espanol Armado, Planet Pit finds Pitbull in full party mode, backed by some unrelentingly slick and accessible production. The entire album is a hook-driven paean to mainstream tastes, which isn't necessarily a bad thing.
But it doesn't make for an especially inspired album.
That doesn't mean Planet Pit is without its charms. When Pitbull's charisma and cockiness merges with the right production and a strong idea, the results can be enjoyably fun. A prime example is "Shake Senora," an electrofied take on the classic Harry Belafonte tune that features an assist from T-Pain. For all intents and purposes, a remake of a novelty island song from the 1950s should not work as well as this does, but it stands out as an album highlight. Whether or not that says more about the album than the song depends on your perspective, but there's something to be said for creating a song this good from a tune most younger fans will probably remember best as from the final scene from the ghoulish 1988 comedy Beetlejuice.
"Give Me Everything" is a song too-gaudy-to-hate, a slice of 'look at me' pomp that stands out as possibly the best song on the album. Pitbull throws out quips like “Got it locked-up, like Lindsey Lohan” while basking in his own wealth and fame. Not exactly new territory, but when its put across with a wink and a nod, it can be a fun listen. The slight Carribbean flavor just screams Miami. And "Pause," is full of cocky put-downs and sleazy come-ons like “Mommy, no you can’t go left/’Cause you look so right” and “I’m such a dirty, dirty dog/My teeth will unsnap your bra.”
But the album falters in its monotony. The songs that don't feature enough character quickly get lost in the shuffle, and if the album was a little more grounded, this might make for a cohesive listen. Instead, it just sounds like an entirely one-note LP. And the constant party atmosphere gets more than a little tedious on tracks like stilted house-influenced "Took My Love," and the unimaginative "International Love." while "Something For the DJs" ends the album with a yawn-inducing thud.
Pitbull is a champion of the Miami hip hop scene and he has shown throughout his career that he knows his way around a catchy pop-rap hook. But he would do well to inject the party atmosphere of records like Planet Pit with a little Kanye-esque pathos or some wit a la Jay-Z or maybe even some of Weezy's unparalleled eccentricity. Because just bragging about how much you party, how much you spend and how much ass you get is a little tired. Planet Pit is a thoroughly modern sounding album production-wise, but it's themes and focus are stuck somewhere in 1998.
Fiery Femcee Wants the World's Attention 2:00PM ET June 1st, 2011 Contributor : Malcolm Strong A Rocky Williform Company
Michael Gadiva has presence. Her striking features and undeniable charisma demand and command attention, but when the chocolate-hued femcee opens her mouth to spit a verse, you realize she's more than another pretty face looking to become hip hop's next sex symbol. The artist from Atlanta-by-way-of-Philadelphia has a vision, a tireless work ethic and she's ready for her close-up.
Michael Gadiva is a star. Michael Gadiva is an artist.
Oh, and she has a sexually-ambiguous name that is always a bit of a conversation-starter.
How did you come up with the name?
My brother came up with the name. My middle name is Michael. My government name is Tiffany. He took my middle name and Gadiva, like the chocolate, because of my skin tone. It just fit and flowed. It just all fit. I like it! The name gets a lot of attention. If they don't know me, they look at 'Michael Gadiva' and are like 'is she a guy?' [laughs] They don't know what to expect. You don't know exactly what you're going to get. Which I love.
Do you view yourself as a rapper first? Or a singer?
I'm a rapper. I'm a songwriter. I'm all of that fused into one. Primarily, everybody knows me as an emcee. I have love for singing and I know how to sing, but I'm not a singer. I do hip hop, R&B and pop. Of course, I never know where it may go.
Early on, you rapped exclusively. When did you decide to incorporate more singing into your sound?
I've always been able to rap, [but] I've had time to develop into a singer. I've had vocal coaches and I still have one, but in the time that I didn't have vocal coaches, I taught myself how to sing. I became comfortable singing records that i liked. the more i sang them, the better my voice got.
Your stage show is very theatrical, how would you describe your persona?
My persona gives you bigger than life. No matter if I'm performing on a grand opera stage or on a cardboard box, it gives you bigger than life. I'm actually quiet and meek in my own home, but when I'm on stage I'm 'Michael Gadiva;' and when I'm home, I'm 'Tiffany.' The two are a part of me, all of that is within me--but they don't get that side of me when I'm out.
What's the biggest lesson you've learned thus far about the business?
It's literally a game that you have to play. Only certain players get to that national stage. I've been in this industry ten-plus years, but I have yet to become a grand master at it. It's very difficult being an artist. Especially when everything is straight digital. No one sells albums. No one. People have made careers off of Twitter and Facebook. You can literally be a nobody yesterday and a superstar tomorrow off of one video, off of one song, off of one feature.
What's been the keys to keeping you motivated?
Being humble in this industry will take you so far. Its something about you for people to have to see in order for them to be convinced. You can make a statement without saying something. I have a God that I pray to each and every day and its keeping me so grounded and its kept me sane.
What's your greatest ambition?
I want to know what the public likes for me and what they don't like from me. What they want more of and what they want less of. And I will be doing theater in September. But I'm definitely focused on nothing but perfecting my craft all around. All the time.
PL3DGE
03:00PM ET May 24th, 2011
Contributor: Hector Rose
A Rocky Williform Company
Rating:
Killer Mike has long been one of the most underrated emcees in hip hop. For fans, his long and winding road of a career is well-known: entering the public conscious as an upstart rapper hanging with superstars Outkast, dropping a promising-but-mishandled debut album (Monster), joining Big Boi's Purple Ribbon only to have nothing come of it, launching a string of acclaimed underground mixtapes, finally landing on T.I.'s Grand Hustle imprint and so on.
Now finally, the man sometimes-known as Mike Bigga has released his 'official' sophomore album, and PL3DGE makes the wait seem well worth any frustration fans may have been feeling over the years. Mike's focus is sharp, his rhymes are sharper and the production from beatsmiths like Flying Lotus and The Bizness gives the thoughtful, topical and fiery rapper plenty of sonic napalm to assist in his firebombing of the status quo. And Mike takes on virtually everyone from Bill Cosby to Sean Hannity. It's easy to praise topical music in an era of gloss and superficiality, but Mike doesn't just get an 'A' for effort because he wants to say something. With PL3DGE, the man succeeds on almost every level.
On "That's Life II," Mike sounds as powerful as Fear of A Black Planet-era Chuck D and as enraged as Death Certificate-era Ice Cube as he raps "Mr. O’Reilly, Mr. Limbaugh, and Mr. Hannity/How could you sell White America your insanity?” This isn't just empty rhetoric, Mike has a clear focus and his rage is never mindless or scattershot. And "God In the Building II," the other track that serves as a sequel to one of his more celebrated underground cuts, Mike's raw honesty, wit and righteous anger coalesce into one of album's shining moments.
If there is any criticism that can be leveled at PL3DGE, its that the album sometimes slips a notch when Mike partners with his fellow ATL superstars Gucci Mane and Jeezy. Nothing wrong with lightening things up a bit--humor and relatability are what make any bit of social commentary easier to stomach--but sometimes, Mike's persona seems to sit uncomfortably alongside the trap-rap stars. It doesn't quite seem like he's found a way to channel his lighter side without it sounding a bit contrived.
But again--that's a small criticism.
Another album highlight is the honest and humorous "Ric Flair," in which Mike pays homage to the legendary wrestler and credits him for helping ot develop his persona. Mike is not a rapper bereft of ideas, and his wit makes almost every rhyme quotable and his perspective always riveting.
Killer Mike/Mike Bigga may never become the superstar he deserves to be. But that says more about the record-buying public than it does his talent. But his abilities as a rapper, and his command of his artform and gift for crafting stellar albums, will ensure that, regardless of what the charts say, Mike will always be one of the best in the genre. And for his die-hard fans, that's a fact that's been well-known for almost a decade. He's just getting started.
Why Is Mary Jane Still Music’s Hottest Topic? 2:00PM ET May 19th, 2011 Contributor : Jecquea Howsie A Rocky Williform Company
Ray Charles sang about her. The Beatles and Bob Dylan raved about her. Bob Marley was rarely seen without her. Rick James wrote his most infamous ode to her, the aptly-titled 'love' song "Mary Jane."
For the past 40+ years, marijuana subculture has gone from a taboo party favor in jazz circles to mainstream notoriety. It's been a subject of debate and ridicule and has popped up in the strangest of places; including the lives--and bongs--of everyone from Olympic gold medalist Michael Phelps to Whitney Houston’s daughter Bobby Kristina.
Today’s biggest artists continue to applaud the high the chronic gives them. Exploding with glee as they trade stories of their first time experiencing the sticky-icky; many artists have risen from relative obscurity to superstardom by pronouncing their ganja love loudly and proudly.
We applauded Dr. Dre when he dedicated an entire album, The Chronic, to the joys of blunt-rolling. We rode Snoop Dogg's high as he rapped about her on his debut album DoggyStyle. But as the originators of the over-popularized ‘weed rap’ phenomenon reach middle age, have the stylistic sounds they provided cross over to the new generation?
Although Mary Jane will always loiter in the background while potheads sing and rap of the warm 'n fuzzy feeling she provides, will the hype surrounding an artist and album centered on smoking ever get old? And if it does, will the charm of a Wiz Khalifa or Kid Cudi fade with it?
Many of these bleary-eyed and giggling artists will eventually graduate from the high life, but what drug will take its place and become music’s next hottest commodity?
