Has Hip Hop Entered the 'Post-Hood' Era? 08:00PM ET August 17th, 2010 Contributor: Mathis Bauchner A Rocky Williform Company
Remember 2003? I know it seems like ages ago, but in February of that year a rapper by the name of 50 Cent released his debut album, Get Rich or Die Tryin’, to the tune of 12 million in worldwide sales. The album was filled with enough gun-touting bravado to appease even the hardest street veteran and 50 transitioned from N.Y. gangster to hip-hop icon in a matter of months. Following in his footsteps were G-Unit members Lloyd Banks, Young Buck, and The Game, who all enjoyed platinum success while sharing 50’s affinity for firearms. Southerners Young Jeezy and Rick Ross both emerged from the shadow of Get Rich or Die Tryin’. And the list goes on and on. Hip-hop’s Guntalk Era had officially begun, with 50 sitting proudly on the throne.
Fast-forward to 2010 and take a good look at rap’s new faces. Let's start with the most successful of the bunch, budding superstar Drake. He’s a biracial Canadian who grew up with his Jewish mother and spent his childhood as an actor on the T.V. series Degrassi. He raps (or sings) about girls, being famous, and little else. He’s never been shot, he’s never shot anyone, and he was too busy collecting acting checks to even consider dealing drugs. Yet the masses have embraced him just as they did 50 Cent seven years ago.
But why?
The answer, in part, is the growing irrelevance of “street cred.” A term long-associated with hip-hop and once upon a time a prerequisite for any rapper looking to crack the Billboard charts. Now, however, listeners couldn’t care less about a bullet-ridden past. Just last week at his concert in Indiana, Drake was joined on stage by none other than Justin Bieber, teen-pop idol and the heartthrob of prepubescent girls the world over. The crowd went absolutely crazy. Could you imagine 50 Cent teaming up with, say, Clay Aiken for a performance circa 2003? Hell no. There would’ve been cries of “50’s gone soft” from Jamaica, Queens to L.A. But Drake decides he’s contracted “Bieber Fever” and no one bats an eye. Why is that exactly? What’s changed? Well, for starters, Drake was never “hard” in the first place. He never claimed to be. He raps about what he knows and does so with enough swag to make even your most casual hip-hop listener’s ears perk up.
Also, audiences today seem much more willing to embrace rappers who choose to collaborate with musicians from other genres. B.o.B worked with Hayley Williams of Paramore and Rivers Cuomo of Weezer on his debut album. The result: two smash hits with “Airplanes” and “Magic.” Kid Cudi perhaps branched out even further, teaming up with indie acts MGMT and Ratatat for songs on his ’09 debut. Like Drake, neither B.o.B nor Cudi spends much time discussing anything resembling the street life. Kid Cudi’s a self-proclaimed stoner, B.o.B loves his guitar, and both rappers have likened themselves to extraterrestrials more often than thugs.
So who’s to blame (or thank) for this shift in hip-hop culture? My answer’s Kanye West, he of the pink polo and Louis Vuitton backpack. A man who arrived not long after 50 with 2004s The College Dropout, an album too good to be ignored, even if he spent a good portion of it making fun of higher education. Kanye did a song with Adam Levine, dedicated another one to his mama, and declared “we all self-conscious, I’m just the first to admit it.” Indeed he was. Kanye made sensitivity cool. He also proved that a shared interest in crime isn’t required when it comes to connecting in the studio. At the end of the day, talent recognizes talent. Kanye’s worked with Jeezy, Game, and other aforementioned Guntalkers, creating a kind of cultural harmony that’s been well received by fans and critics alike.
As Drake so succinctly put it on 2009s “Ignant Sh*t,” 'them hipsters gonna have to get along with them hood n*ggas.' Thanks in large part to Kanye, so far it seems they have. The rap universe no longer revolves around 50 Cent and his nine bullet wounds. The Guntalk Era had ended, and ringtone rap was a flash in the pan. Culturally, hip-hop has expanded, encompassing more types of rappers than ever before, “street cred” be damned. There’s now room for the singers and the stoners, those who spent their teenage years dealing coke and the ones who starred in network T.V. shows. If the initial success of Drake, Kid Cudi, and B.o.B is any indication, hip-hop seems to have found itself three very talented artists to help carry the torch. Things should work out fine, just as long as they don’t all catch the “Fever.”
Trill O.G.
06:00PM ET August 3rd, 2010
Contributor: Todd Williams
A Rocky Williform Company
Rating:
Bun B is focused and Bun B is inspired. The southern rap legend's Trill O.G. stands as an outstanding summation of all that has made the rapper one of the most beloved figures in hardcore hip-hop and a Houston rap godfather. But this third in Bun's Trill... series also finds the rapper willing to take risks.
So most of all, Bun B is ambitious.
The Steve Below-produced opener "Chuuch!!!" is a thumpingly metallic anthem, with a bluesy riff and wailing organ giving the former UGK rhymer's flows a bigger-than-life punch; while his pairing with Autotuned robo-crooner T-Pain would simply be a calculated pop crossover in the hands of almost any other rapper, but Bun's at his most brash and it shows that he can appropriate the tropes of 2010 popular music on his own terms. "Put It Down" features Drake, and the youngster plays off of and pays tribute to the veteran well. Bun B's versatility is best showcased on the R&B-tinged "Ridin' Slow"--a sure smash single featuring a Sean Kingston hook and quad-knocking groove; and on the DJ Premier-produced "Let 'Em Know"--a song that could have just been a pleasant genre-exercise instead is the hardest-hitting song on the album and a masterpiece of a collaboration between the two legends.
The most exhilarating moment on the album is hearing Bun swap verses with the his deceased UGK bandmate Pimp C and a winning archived verse from 2Pac on the infectious "Right Now." The Trey Songz-sung hook is the album's catchiest and the two posthumous appearances are both used perfectly and the moment never feels exploitative. Again, an example of Bun taking an audacious musical approach and turning that risk into rousing success.
Pimp C's ghost is all over the album, with Bun reminding the listener that UGK's legacy and name are very much a part of the spirit and approach of the music. But his willingness to push past his history while simultaneously playing homage to it is the greatest success of Trill O.G., giving Bun his latter-day opus on par with Scarface's The Fix or Raekwon's Only Built 4 Cuban Linx...Pt II and may be the pinnacle of a summer that saw a number of hip-hop veterans (including The Roots and Big Boi) releasing inspired, resurgent albums.
Teflon Don
06:00PM ET July 20, 2010
Contributor: Hip Hop Blog Staff
A Rocky Williform Company
Rating:
Miami's Rick Ross has always been one of the more quietly consistent album-makers in mainstream hip-hop. That's not damning with faint praise--if anything, it's criticism with some disappointment. Ross' albums are always well-crafted but the South Florida rapper has yet to really prove that he has anything to say that hasn't been said umpteen times before. Teflon Don is an immaculate listen, the production of such luminaries as J.U.S.T.I.C.E., No I.D. and Clark Kent assures that even when Rick sounds decidedly uninspired (which is often enough), the album still sounds good.
Ross is solid as a rhymer, but he doesn't have enough panache on the mic to hide his by-the-numbers metaphors and cliche subject matter. The much-praised "Free Mason" track features a laid-back cameo from Jay-Z that makes it obvious how far Rick has to go lyrically but benefits from an enthusiastic performance. No I.D.'s soulful "Tears of Joy" benefits greatly from a powerful Cee-Lo vocal on the hook as Ross declares he's "Biggie Smalls in the flesh, living life after my death..." and the infectious "M.C. Hammer" has radio-hit written all over it--with a semi-ironic nod to the late 80s pop rap star and a thundering Lex Luger-produced backdrop.
The summer smash "B.M.F." is quite possibly the standout track of the bunch, with its drug-kingpin referencing hook, it finds Ross indulging his Tony Montana fantasies: "Rozay,that's my nickname, cocaine running in my big veins." Of course, there's nothing here that hasn't been said before, but it's delivered with enough braggadocio and fun that you're willing to ride along for a few seconds of romanticized outlaw escapism.
Teflon Don proves more about Ross's skills as a craftsman than it does about Ricky Rozay's artistic acumen. He knows how to put together an album--that much is for sure; but one can't help but feel that the man born William Roberts is coasting a bit creatively. That'll be good enough to keep him on the charts (see: post-Reasonable Doubt late 90s Jay-Z), but we have yet to see if Ross has any ambitions on crafting a true classic to stand next to the other A-listers of his generation.
Sir Lucious Left Foot: The Son of Chico Dusty
06:00PM ET July 6, 2010
Contributor: Hip Hop Blog Staff
A Rocky Williform Company
Rating:
How does a legendary MC record a Grammy winning, diamond-selling album that is still somehow one of the most underrated releases in 2000s hip hop?
Not exactly sure what the answer is, but that's exactly what happened to Outkast's Antwon "Big Boi" Patton following the release of Outkast's critically-acclaimed, massively-popular double-album Speakerboxxx/The Love Below. Most fans focused on his partner Andre 3000, and Andre's more obvious and eclectic funk, rock and pop experiments and mostly gave Big Boi's Speakerboxxx half of the album a polite nod and lukewarm kudos while lavishing (maybe over-praising) 3000's quirky and infectious Love Below.
But now, after Outkast's extended hiatus following 2006's disappointing Idlewild film and album, Big Boi has resurfaced on his own, on a new label with a renewed focus. 3000 produced one track, and Outkast's contractual complications with Arista meant that Dre couldn't even appear on the Jive Records-released album. But all that means is that Big Boi is inspired and sounds like he's completely relishing the opportunity to remind everyone that he is also one of the better MCs of his generation and a visionary talent on his own. Sir Lucious Left Foot: The Son of Chico Dusty has the shimmer of early 2000s Outkast but isn't the sound of a legend coasting. Big Boi's rhymes are fierce and the production is uniquely funky; the lead single "Shutterbug" has one the truck-rattling thump of a classic Clipse track, with Dungeon Family stalwart Sleepy Brown singing a smooth hook over a jittery electro synth. "General Patton" is an anthem, with Big Boi's enthusiasm tangible in lines like "You disrespect it/It's yo' ass/One half of the Outkast/Return like Ghost of Christmas Past."
The Dre 3000-produced "You Ain't No DJ" features young sensation Yelawolf and, oddly enough, is one of the tracks that sounds less like classic Outkast. On the contrary, it proves that the forward-thinking crew is just as visionary as ever; a percussive beat with sound effects that let Big Boi and 'Wolf drop some of the album's most confrontational brags, dismissing so-called DJ's who only cater to fame. The Organized Noize-produced "Fo Yo Sorrows" features the return of George Clinton, who collaborated with Outkast on their classic 1998 Aquemini album track "Synthesizer." The song is a highlight, with Bay legend Too $hort also dropping by and a beat that recalls Kid Cudi without aping his style.
Those that have been following Outkast for the past 16 years shouldn't need a reminder that Big Boi is as great as he is, but always standing next to the universally-revered Andre 3000 can sometimes make even the staunchest of fans take Daddy Fat Sax for granted. Forever cast as the accessible, radio-friendly Paul McCartney to Three Stack's more avant-garde and experimental John Lennon, Big Boi shows that he has more than a few tricks up his sleeves--he's one of the best to ever do it. Sir Lucious Left Foot: The Son of Chico Dusty doesn't only add to his legacy--it cements it.
How I Got Over
06:00PM ET June 22, 2010
Contributor: Hip Hop Blog Staff
A Rocky Williform Company
Rating:
The Roots remain, even in this era of singles-oriented, create-your-own playlists music consumers, a defiantly album-centric band. Sure, they've released their fair share of stellar singles since their major-label debut in 1995, but the true essence of who they are as a band lies in the albums. Classics like Do You Want More?!!!??!, Things Fall Apart, and Phrenology are the reasons they've quietly become one of hip-hop's most critically-acclaimed and beloved groups.
So to fans unfamiliar with their work, the sublimely subdued How I Got Over may be taxing to listen to initially. If your attention span calls for rushes of "Wow!" moments, numerous high-profile guest stars, a different producer on each track and nonsensically inane 'punchlines,' this type of subtlety may not be your cup of tea. But what the Roots have crafted is one of the most cohesive, forward-pushing hip hop albums of the year thus far. Following their preceding albums (Game Theory and Rising Down) which were explicitly un-commercial, ...Over features lush, atmospheric production and quirky guest stars like the Monsters of Folk. "Now Or Never" finds lead MC Black Thought rapping, "I'm ready for the next chapter and page/To start acting my age/and part ways/With the Black Thought from back in the days." In a genre where thirtysomethings believe that 'beefs' with twenty year-olds is how one remains relevant, its refreshing to hear the frontman of such a visionary crew still sounding like he's eager to break new ground.
John Legend makes an appearance on the piano-driven march "Fire," another album standout that breaks slightly from the moody sound of the rest of the album. ?uestlove's drumming is the backbone of each track, as usual, and the band provides gorgeous backdrops for Thought's ruminations on life, maturity, and the state of the hyper-connected planet circa 2010. How I Got Over may require repeat listens for full appreciation, but it is a wonderful set from an accomplished and visionary band. Subtle and sublime in an era of flash and smash, The Roots show that, 15 years later, they are still unafraid to take hip-hop to new plateaus and never rest on their legendary laurels.
