HIP-HOP REVIEW: WORDS: MATT OLIVER




Singles/EPs

If you can look away from Kanye rediscovering his Twitter password, here’s the new Rapture & Verse to clog up your social media feeds with self-amusing jpegs, resent at royal wedding snubs, and wondering who’ll step up next after J Cole’s ‘KOD’ and Childish Gambino’s ‘This is America’. The saga continues when Salar examines the ‘Demigod Complex’, whose who-wants-some rhymes come wrapped in dynasty strings measuring you for a horse’s head. S. Kalibre takes the weather personal on ‘Sun and Rain’, a quiet storm looking for a sliver of light in burdened times. Bluesy keys and dipping sunshine won’t hold back Fliptrix, asserting ‘It’s Like That’ with bladed precision synching syllables against the shimmer. “If the bars don’t get ‘em, then the flow will” – Legion of Goon lump you with extra credit, ‘AIOFO’ and ‘Flashing Lights’ keeping up their strain of witty unpredictable. ‘Lock Your Doors’ is a pretty flimsy means of resistance once Ramson Badbonez does his best Jack Torrance impression, and ‘Safe’ by Kalieon won’t provide shelter from a measured pounding of the streets battling uphill.

The sweg of sarky master Lee Scott continues unabated, ‘Oh, The Fun We’re All Having’ a seven tracker finding pleasing ways to rise up from his customary wit pricking dulled psychedelica. ‘When It Rains It Pours’, and when Lewis Parker reaches cucumber temperature, it’s normally a keys and breeze classic, smoothness to the Nth degree with Verbz on the mic a good fit for street forecasting. Three times for your mind, the P Brothers’ buccaneering ‘Mentaltainment’, with Daniel Son, Doo Wop, Your Old Droog and Milano picking up and brandishing the baton, does heavyweight jail breaking you’ll lose your shoes over. On 2018’s system update of ‘don’t touch that dial’, Homeboy Sandman and Edan attempt to break superhighway shackles and ‘#NeverUseTheInternetAgain’, a fun old skool caper with a hook from the rooftops capping exasperated moral guardianship/public health warning.








Interesting spoken word/rhyming at both ends of the candle from Lausse the Cat tells the tale of ‘The Girl, The Cat and The Tree’. A cosy jazz bedding of some splendour can show its claws, and the comfortably muted storytelling joins the dots between telltale realities of love and life, and what’s going on through the looking glass. The powerful, stark prose and spectacle in the spotlight of ‘Without Certainty’ has Ceiling Demons speaking up in a bid to bring a pertinent good cause to the fore: job done if it strikes a chord or doesn’t leave you sitting comfortably. “Emotional damage, you know I’m a vet” – at the junction of heartbreak ridge and breaking point, WLK’s ‘The Gry’ EP is a bid for survival knocking you sideways: industrially scalded, claustrophobic in surround sound, and lashing out when rationality evaporates. With a Guilty Simpson-esque roughness around the edges, MIKE’s ‘Black Soap’ EP is a steel wool wash of loops and freestyle static circling the drain, that gruff command structuring and keeping heads above water.




Albums

A whiny, shrill, eyeballs bulging flow researching Cage at the height of his neuroses with a dash of Chester P: that’s the mist of Eric the Red descending on ‘Caught Red Handed’. Eric’s mugshot is front and centre while Illinformed helps himself out back, in prime form with 14 shots to the dome and his own mutinous agenda. A swift in and out job, as much about partnering in crime as trying to stitch one another up, this is a thick cut of hella lairy British beef.





Spraying bars to bleach your grey cells and decreeing “I’d rather be real shallow than fake deep”, Lunar C has got the smarts to back the undoubted brat factor. ‘Dirtbrain’ rides mischief and sledgehammers found on grime stairwells (see the scales-breaking ‘Skwolla’), with WTF wordplay goading the rewind button. But canny operations that could well take him further, show his strength for the gift of gab beyond gobbing off. Ain’t no such things as halfway crooks, but there is The Mouse Outfit’s ‘Jagged Tooth Crook’, which is neo-soul, nailed. Manchester’s late night live band stick to the script and show the usual steady steps spiced by a rota of emcees and guests.

With assistance from Earl Sweatshirt and Knxwledge, Denmark Vessey’s ‘Sun Go Nova’ is a laborious half and half of rhymes most ears won’t be ready for, and a turnaround of instrumentals riffing off of needle fluff. “For lack of a better word, it’s alternative and leftfield” says the man himself, which is putting it mildly. An insurgent radio station needing the deftest of twiddles to lock onto, follows an audience address admirable for its single-mindedness, chipping away at your defences.

If the origins and whereabouts of Pan Amsterdam lead your search engine down a dead end, ‘The Pocket Watch’ shrugs ‘so what?’ if its skittish ghetto Jackanory leads you down a rabbit hole/Never-Netherlands. Easily distracted with thought pieces of no why and wherefore, the coolest town crier refuting time and space that you’d never imagine medicates to funk, jazz and electro paying low rent but giving glints of bygone razzle dazzle. Unfazed, unconstrained, and easily up for cult listen of the year.





Instrumental scaremongering from Dew8 offers a one-way ticket to a two-way street of the outer limits and no man’s land with lo-fi ghoulishness, ‘Pigeon Feed’ perfecting the classic of letting your ears fill in the gaps for what horrors will follow. Parallel altered state ambience and patent anxiety from Sam Zircon reserved ‘For Shipping and/or Storage’ is like trying to piece together the ghosts of dreams past, offering sub zero degrees of nostalgic comfort and a boom bap itch that you can never quite get to.

Solidify your summertime listening with Dumi RIGHT’s ‘Doing It The Right Way’, the Zimbabwe Legit emcee doing user-friendly consciousness with help from Mr Lif and Mike G of the Jungle Brothers; a good one to throw on once debate breaks out over beers and barbeque. Follow suit with Offwhyte’s ‘Both Sides of the Mississippi’, packing contemplative punch from that fairly gentle, ever fluent flow of his, where rhymes manifest over perfectly matched beats until he’s the last man standing. More fire from The Doppelgangaz tells you to open wide and say ‘Aaaaggghh’. Tinted a little darker than their rockingly good ‘Dopp Hopp’, still crossing from East to West but like they’ve dimmed the high beams on the low-rider (‘Slay Bells’ demands are you listening), all praise remains due to The Cloak from one of the baddest assed pairs out there.





The love of lexicon is still the apple of Paul Barman’s eye. More than meets the ear in his answer-for-everything, stimulator kook role, ‘Echo Chamber’ carries on closing the gap between potent politics, funky lounge lizard off-the-tops and bizarre hypotheses, burrowing its way through the toughest of leather bound volumes to have you picking the bones out for weeks on end. A supporting cast of ?uestlove, Mark Ronson, Open Mike Eagle, Prince Paul, DOOM and Masta Ace means it’s not far from frickin’ awesome. Blu and Shafiq Husayn’s flaky ‘The Blueprint’ has funk to be found, but sounds like it’s constantly going in and out of tunnels while it breaks down gang divisions and geography by the most basic means possible.

Some proper old skool, four-track business out of Cali produces a re-up of The Nonce’s ‘1990’, the Project Blowed affiliates finding their feet with De La Soul-style rhymes, pointers towards Peanut Butter Wolf & Charizma and The Pharcyde, and interplay and concepts (little metaphor needed for the napkin-tucking ‘Chocolate Cake’) getting the most out of raw materials. Royce da 5’9” continues to go from strength to strength when unlocking the ‘Book of Ryan’, piled high with battles and confessionals, life lessons and fears to open eyes and ears. Given the LP’s length, ‘I’m not getting better, I’m just getting started” will make you think twice if you thought you knew everything about the man already.





With so much drama in the CNT it’s kinda hard being the LDZ. Funky DL does GTA, and Sam Krats has got the cream.













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HIP-HOP REVIEW
WORDS/SELECTIONS: MATT OLIVER





So, where’d you place your X this month? Rapture & Verse voted for that bloke dressed as a fish finger, mainly because we’ve always been down with Captain Birdseye, but was interested in how emcees were able to draw out the youthful/apathetic when it came to getting involved in the polling process. Here’s an example of hip-hop that rocked the vote: Si Phili leads the canvas, with Si Spex flipping Mott the Hoople.



Singles

East London’s C.A.M. sticks his size nine into DJ Daredevil’s jazz silk-n-snares, front foot form that orders the rest to ‘Act Like You Know’: slickness capable of slipping in a scissor kick. To a knotted, backwards sliding guitar doing the hula all wrong, Earth2Tom gives Frshrz free rein to examine the ‘N_WRD’, a deft dictionary drill that you need to know about. Someone has really got Micall Parknsun’s goat, and we should all be grateful, smashing into Mr Thing tinkling a piano into an ominous tremor and guaranteeing ‘The Raw’. Remixes come from Jazz T slinking in hobnailed boots, and Park-E arming himself with an organ crowing that the enemy is near.





From the ‘Baby Driver’ OST, Danger Mouse builds a custom block rocker for Run the Jewels to floor it to, the hot-wired funk of ‘Chase Me’ picking up Big Boi en route and laughing all the way from the bank. Young RJ quietly urges you to ‘Wait’, a smooth soul swirl taking the edge off with Boldy James and Pete Rock biding their time to invest in a track that’s four minutes worth of sweet spots from the Slum Village affiliate. Also frosted with street cream, Chris Rivers’ ‘Lord Knows’ is one to keep heads up and life in perspective, all while shouting out Joey Tribbiani. The hipster experience from WLK & BSS, both advocates of sunglasses at night, turns skeletal electro into pulsing neon on ‘Nightlife’; from the falsetto hook to the soft trap furnishings, it’s a cruise down the strip acting as high society on social media.

Too tangy for your tastebuds? There’s always Prophets of Rage’s ‘Unfuck the World’: more rock-rap rallying and polling booth ransacking from Chuck D, B Real and RATM which speaks for itself, right down to the video directed by Michael Moore. Alternatively, try Prozack Turner’s ‘Obsession’, a rumpus of guitar-bucking hip-hop matching a B-boy stance with a tip of the Stetson.





Albums

‘Billy Green is Dead’ writes Jehst, a life and times chronicle showing the sort of word association and plain English penmanship that has long made him the UK’s premier emcee. Psychedelic residue, where the Drifter carries on mixing toxins ‘til he’s lost in the synergy, drips into his bests of being uppity and indignant, shaping a storyboard of the eponymous paranoid android dealing with the five degrees of grief. Open-ended enough to keep you wondering whether this is all one carefully calculated dream/lavishly constructed fake news, it’s a demise to be joyous about.



With Ramson Badbonez coming on strong on ‘Hypnodic’ (full review here), an ace marksman hitting every shot at the shy before quickly ducking out, Joe Blow is ‘The Smoking Ace’, the Squid Ninja mixing up surprisingly soulfully tuned rhyme sprees with raw balaclava ripostes – “my life’s a snuff film they won’t show at the cinema” – with consistency absolutely paramount. Ral Duke, Pacewon, Roc Marciano and Skamma help Blow give it both barrels.

With his usual UK to US blend of quiet storms turning into full blown street typhoons, Endemic Emerald, directed by the begrizzled Skanks the Rap Martyr, present ‘Rapsploitation’. Featuring a clutch of underground generals, only press play if you’re a school of hard knocks alumnus and list your hobbies as looking directly into the eye of the storm. Guided by the uppermost UK pedigree on the mic, the recruitment skills of Australian producer Must Volkoff are a bargain for ‘Aquanaut’ to watchfully guard the gateway to the deep. Add some local emcees to the vibe warning against one false move (please, no quips about going Down Under), and it becomes an album to sneak past security where the reward is worth the risk.





Combative in the ‘Game of Death’, Gensu Dean and Wise Intelligent of Poor Righteous Teachers are a well matched pair of pugilists. Dean’s production, woven with a wispy touch of consternation while pulling no punches, and WI’s spry, Kendrick-ish flow always aware of the threat in hand, make it an event fit for a king. Scathing political observations are the key to the lock of David Banner’s ‘The God Box’, throwing open an interesting Southern variety of funk, soul, trap, spoken word and rock to rummage through. The complex sharpens your elbows (including one wedding first dance) with messages doing the same to your brain. FYI’s ‘ameriBLAKKK’ might not make as many genre hops but is just as focused on modern day and historical injustice, a quickness of lip and concept from the LA provocateur showing the possibilities of standing up and smoothing it out (including one late night booty call).





Set in a doorstep reality of drum machines, rap bots, isolation stations and soul flashbacks shambling and shimmering to a mostly unexplained specification, two albums of enigmatic boundary twisting from Shabazz Palaces aim to drown you in lyrical/production depth, or make you feel you’re the last being on earth. Both ‘Quazarz: Born On A Gangster Star’ (featuring an unofficial bend of Kraftwerk’s ‘The Model’) and ‘Quazarz vs. The Jealous Machines’ reek of jet pack fuel, docking late night to mark the X in unorthodox.

Blacastan & Stu Bangas’ ‘The Uncanny Adventures of Watson & Holmes’ contains a disappointingly low number of references to deerstalkers and matters being ‘elementary’. A single case-cracking track later (‘Murder Mystery II’), Blacastan’s grimy, jawbreaker rhymes are permanently on code red until he’s almost chasing his own tail, and Stu Bangas’ beats – weapon of choice proudly displayed on the sleeve – riddles boom bap with a quiver of hollow 80s synths and American wrestler rawk. English detective pleasantries < “Gravediggaz, with a lil’ bit of Main Source.” Kool G Rap’s ‘Return of the Don’ is swamped in guests to the point where’s he almost the first leg to his own album relay. The calibre of those joining the salivary stick ups is undeniable – Raekwon, Termanology, Sean Price, Cormega and more – and wall to wall production from MoSS allows ample street profiling, but overall it’s another veteran’s day hustle dampening expectations.

Straightforwardly jazzy and making the MPC sound like a million bucks, BennyBen’s ’16 Levels’ is a Finnish breeze of instrumentalism, with the odd dark strand and a couple of mic spots from OnePlusOne bringing the cappuccino beats to the boil. Mightily living up to its title, Fredfades’ ‘Warmth’ flows like sun rays through blinds, with fawning hip-hop rhymes on hire and a soul bronzing that’ll chase away meteorological grey. Of boom-bap crafted as bittersweet symphonies and burdened jazz wanting alone time in the rain, Remulak’s ‘Earth’ is still a comforting presence getting the best from your headphones.





Mixtapes

Always landing sunny side up, Jay Prince’s ‘Late Summers’ has got R&B moves and the lure of the trap as its main prongs of attack. The influences soon become obvious, as is Prince’s smarter-than-most planning to anchor many a good weathered party, whether your yacht’s at full speed, or someone’s shouted there’s more alcohol back at theirs.

Vital visuals this month: Juga-Naut’s self-assessment, Dutch Mob’s photo album, Datkid getting a foot in the door and the thrift of Career Crooks.













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