Death Becomes You
Feb 02, 2005 in Uncategorized
Is He Dead, Yet? You know, the Pope. Did he drop? Just wondering. I got money on that shit. I don’t think the old dude’s gonna make it this time. I predict he won’t walk out the hospital ever. I give him three or four days. Look at Johnny. Or Marlon Brando. One minute everybody’s saying they were cool. Then they get hit with the sniffles, and a week later, they’re gone. Poof. Just like that, they’re dead. And the Pope should have dropped a decade ago. Dude all old speaking gibberish in a microphone. Nobody understands his ass, but they act like they do cause he’s the Pope. Man, I expect a windfall by the end of the week.
He’ll probably go quietly in the afternoon. Old people either go at night, or in the morning, or in the afternoon, or in the evening, or whenever. Every time is death time for the elderly. I figure everybody has it pretty good until they hit 78. 78 is an arbitrary number, but it seems whenever I watch the news, the person that’s being reported dead is or was usually between the age of 78 and 84, usually in their early 80s. So, I figure that’s probably the norm for everybody when it comes to dropping dead, unless you live in the hood. Then I think it’s between 17 and 24.
I think there’s a lot of death related milestones in a person’s lifetime. The first is when you’re a baby. Everybody thinks you’re gonna drop if you’re a baby. And the chances are that we all could have died like that if we weren’t taken care of in the right way in the grand US of A. Infant fatality rates are pretty high across the world. Most of the world’s babies don’t make it, because babies just can’t cut it, yet. We’re all pussies until we get coughed on and shot up in the right way over a period of time. Then we become super babies, running around, fuckin’ up shit, pretty damn indestructable until we get old. And when I say old, I mean 30, or some shit like that.
If you live in those improvished areas, like I have most of my fuckin life, it don’t take 30 before you start feeling mortal, and the cold hand of death starts to creep up on you. Unfortunately, my teenage years were a war zone. And I wasn’t even a gangbanger. Yet, I saw two close friends die to street violence. One was killed right outside his mother’s house while talking to my cousin. I dodged several bullets as well, including two that barely missed me as I walked from the kitchen to my room. Bullets simply melt a hole through glass, cracking the glass window slightly at impact. My mother still hangs a painting on her wall where one of the bullets went through. I guess I should have felt blessed when I made it into my twenties. But I still spend too much time wondering about my mortality. I still feel like I’m living on borrowed time.
Most other people don’t think about death until they get close to 40, and especially when they hit that mid-life crisis shit. And I can see why because around that age you get the menopause and the heart attack and all that other weird shit. And all that dumb fuckin’ living catches up to the body and mind around that time, all the drinking and smoking, and fornicating, and cheating and lying, and all that other bullshit you didn’t give a fuck about back in the day. All that shit starts playing on your whole reality around then. And the body just starts fuckin’ up and not acting right. Your eyes go and your prostate swells up and shit. And your woman’s cootchie starts drying out and shit. Everything just gets all fucked up. But if you make it past that shit, you usually get to reach the end.
And, of course, the end is 80. You hit 80 and you’re cool, and then you get hit with shit that you used to be able get over with without a problem. You get a cold, or you stub a toe, or you get hit with a bad case of gas. Before, you farted that shit out and went on with your life. You took an aspirin, or you drank some tea, or something like that. But this time, your whole fuckin’ foot goes numb, or your lungs fill with fluid, or your blood gets infected, some weird shit like that. And all of a sudden, three days later, you’re dead. You’re 80 and you’re dead.
Fun Fact: 50 was shot 9 times. Grimm was shot 10. Guess who’s harder?
(What’s that Cool J line? I’m so bad that I suck my own dick, or some over-homo shit like that. I guess no one outside of Cool J wants the distinction of being that bad, that hard, that he forces his own mouth to suck his own dick. I wish Moe Dee, or Canibus, or whoever had fucked up Cool J on the mic just for bullshit like that.)
MF Grimm - Mad_Flows (A Bootleg)
(Link will be up for 2 or 3 days.)
Yeah. Yeah. Yeah. President What’s-his-face got sworn in today. Yippee! Freedom for everybody. It’s another great day for the great nation of America. Yadda-Yadda-Yadda. I’m pissing all over myself in joy. The world is a better place. Now, let’s all vomit in unison.
Anyway, I was listening to the new Geto Boys cd, trying to see if this shit was as fucked up as some of the old Geto Boys shit. Unfortunately, the boys have grown up. Now, they’re all I’m an adult and I got lessons to tell and shit. For a little while you think you’re gonna get the crazy fuckin’ ignorant Geto Boys of old, and then they get all elderly and wise on a brother. And it don’t help that they have these generic ass beats backing them. This shit may not be bad, but it ain’t good. And I guess it’s all my fault.
I love listening and reading the debates on who the best rappers are today. I especially love the debate when it includes really doo-doo type rappers. Like, what if someone debated who was the best between T.I. and Cam’ron, or maybe if Trick Daddy is better than Lil’ Flip. That kind of shit trips me out. Like, I remember having this debate with a friend some time ago about who I thought was the better druggie, Kurt Cobain or Layne Staley. And I couldn’t believe how hard a choice it was.
And all of a sudden Cam’ron has meaning, and his lyricism is some really deep subversive shit? Bullshit. Anybody that has hokey-pokey and kumbaya in his shit needs to get it over with and stick the dildo up the ass, because it’s over. That’s crackhead hoe talk. And nobody will have me say otherwise.
Let’s get off of wrestling and finish this countdown. Where was I? Number 3: Masta Ace’s A Long Hot Summer. It’s funny how the second tier dudes back in the day are doing better than the top names from back then. I mean, Big Daddy Kane, Biz Markie, Kool G. Rap, all got better shine back in the golden age, and Masta Ace was a likable rapper with a nice witty persona who was able to provide a mid-level hit or two back then. Now, the only dude doing better among that group is Ace. He’s dropped several noteworthy albums in recent years, including that Disposable Arts shit from a while back. And people are starting to give him props on that Slaughtahouse shit when he was incorporated. Now, supposedly at retirement, Ace drops another top quality record. I won’t call this shit a classic, but it’s real, like they used to say. Long Hot Summer is one of the most honest releases of the year, and one of the funniest as well, focusing on trying to make it and survive in the rap world. I won’t get into if the story concept that drives this record works like it should. I honestly didn’t pay much attention to the skits. A sidenote: people need to stop making skits, especially the ones with the crappy acting. That I-talian don’t sound all that I-talian to me. Still, as a whole, you won’t get better indie production, done by a slew of players, and better honest rapping by our man Ace than on this record. By the way, Fuck All Y’all.
At number 2 is one of the most hated men in hip-hop, Kanye West, with his debut album, The College Dropout. The main draw of this cd is the production, the same production that kept Jay-Z respectable in the rap game. Kanye’s style is part street, part R&B, driven by soul samples, samba patterns, and hard beats. I hate to say it, but Kanye West helped bring the soul back to hip-hop, which had in recent years been drowned in cold synthesizers, and repetitive, dull boom-bap type bass and drum patterns. On top of this soul driven hip-hop, Kanye went away from the battling and gun talk, which was evident on advanced copies of the album, and focused on real man issues, working at a job you hate but need, wanting and getting things you can’t afford, loving and staying connected to a family with major league issues. He removed the gloss and brought the real gritty world back into hip-hop. Most of the tracks work, even though Kanye West isn’t the tightest emcee, although he’s better than what most call their favorite. And I still find it hard to listen to that workout plan shit. Also, Jay-Z just doesn’t belong on this disc. His attitude just doesn’t fit in with the rest of the album. And isn’t it too bad all this love is going to waste because West seems to have grown too big for his britches. Did I say britches? I meant beyotches. Or did I? Fuck it. Anyway. I won’t let the real Kanye West fuck up the Kanye West portrayed on this album. The College Dropout West has created an identity real hip-hop fans can identify with, and I applaud him for the accomplishment.
At number 1 is the album that most people agree is one of the greatest hip-hop albums of the year. I might actually call this one a classic. I believe people will look at this release ten years from now like they look at that Tribe and Gangstarr shit from the past. I hate when people call bullshit classic, but I just find this shit one of kind. It probably will never be duplicated. And you might find people trying to copy this shit in the near future. The album I’m talking about is Madvillainy by Madlib and MF DOOM, who go by the name Madvillain. This is clean, quick, wham-bam-thank-you-mam hip hop. No hooks, mostly sample-based, with very little singing involved. Most, if not all the songs never go over the three minute mark, one of the reasons the Beatles shit is so good. You better have some tight shit if you go over three minutes in a song. And if your album is over 45 minutes, it better be filled with some of the greatest shit ever heard. Like most movies over two hours, a 45 minute or more cd is usually shit. Anyway, DOOM pretty much flows over the beat until the next skit interrupts him, and then the next skit is interrupted by another Madlib beat, which DOOM immediately slaughters. Well, slaughters may be a little too much, because most of this shit is laid back. The beats are laid back. DOOM’s flow is laid back. This is just some laid back shit. Unlike MM Food, the skits work, and they don’t run on too long. All this shit works together like a cut and paste collage, some real artistic type gallery shit. In fact they should put this shit up in some gallery like a piece of art, because that’s just what this shit is. I dare say, this isn’t just the best hip-hop album of the year, but the best album of the year, period.
On to number 6. There are underachievers, and there are those you don’t expect shit from. And Masta Killa was the Wu-member nobody expected shit from, but No Said Date defies expectations. Maybe it’s because of that that this album ranks so high. Masta Killa pulls off a fast one and delivers a Wu-album that actually sounds like a classic Wu-album. He does something neither Method or GZA have been able to do, put out a decent album in the new millennium. Makes you wonder if Masta Killa was always so talented and was just being held down by the record companies and the other Wu-members? Or maybe it was just a fluke? I’m going with the latter. That doesn’t take anything away from what the other Killa did this year. He brings all the elements of a Wu-album: the Rza production, the soul samples, and the many Wu-guest appearances. Raekwon and Ghostface kill it on D.T.D, and Ol’ Dirty does his final drunken chorus over some Sandford & Son shit. If you gotta pick up a Wu-album, make sure you check this shit out. It’s Killa. See what I did there. Fuck it.
Let’s go on to Ghostface, who seems to have dropped the Killah for better marketability. It didn’t really help much, because I don’t think The Pretty Tony Album sold that well. Too bad, because it was pretty good, although I will say this shit underachieves. Which is why Ghostface turned around a month or two later after this shit dropped and put out the Theodore Unit album, which featured most of the shit that didn’t make it on Pretty Tony. Makes you wonder if shit like Guerilla Hood and the Drummer had made the album, how better would Pretty Tony have fared? How much more love would this album have gotten? So, how do the two compare to one another. The two releases are two halves of one whole. But Pretty Tony is the better half. Theodore Unit is unfortunately a crew album, featuring way too many lesser rappers. It may have rawer production, but it also suffers from worser rap skills. The only downside with Pretty Tony is that it doesn’t include some of the Ghostface tracks that appear on Pretty Tony, and it suffers from weird sellout shit like Ghostface which is a blatant attempt to get radio play. But shit like Metal Lungies and the classic Holla make up for these missteps. The rest of the album features standard Ghostface shit, soul music over hard beats, with Ghostface flowing nonsensical over that shit in that crazy ol’ man style of his. The worse thing that most people can say about the release is that it just isn’t enough. They wish there were more. And if that’s the worst you can say about this shit, that you wish there were more, it means this shit didn’t do all that bad.
At number 4 is MF DOOM’s MM Food. Most of the album features sample-based hip-hop over ol’ school drumming and beatboxing. Of course there are a boatload of skits, one too many in the middle of the album. DOOM bases each song around a name of food, although I have no idea how they relate to the song content. And this shit suffers much like the King Geedorah release from a year ago, many of the instrumentals have been heard before if you’ve ever picked up his Spices and Herbs shit. Kon Karne still feels like that Grimm track from awhile back. But like Geedorah, Food tends to overcome these deficiencies by the sheer will of DOOM. This shit isn’t heavy and it isn’t light. DOOM freestyles over this shit effortlessly. Many of the songs work better the more you hear them, this in relations from being blown back by a song at first, and later tiring of it. Also, like most good albums, there’s very little filler, outside of the skits in the middle. Each track seems to belong with the rest. I’d personally take a good ten to twelve track release over some bloated 18 to 24 track piece of crap. And what does DOOM deliver, an album that looks and sounds like an album, like all the pieces belong and work together, where there isn’t a track that doesn’t belong. And in the end, isn’t that real album making?
At number 9 is My Own Worst Enemy by Edo G featuring Pete Rock. You know Edo G, that Father to your sperm, dude. I honestly don’t remember anything else relevant this dude has done. But Pete Rock, well, we know, Pete Rock is the draw, why most people would buy this cd. Pete Rock does most of the production on the 10 track album, while Edo plays the C.L. role and just raps (Just do my beats, beyotch and let me do my job, hoe. That’s all you gotta do is my fuckin’ beats). These aren’t Pete Rock’s best beats, and Edo G isn’t one of my favorite rappers. But Edo updates his flow and delivery, and Pete Rock’s average shit is better than most producers’ greatest tracks, which results in creating one of the most impressive releases of the year. Pete Rock should’ve produced the entire album though. All he had to do is produce 10 tracks, instead of 7 he provides (lazy bastard). But the other producers come through, especially on Wishing, where Masta Ace continues to impress this year as elder rap statesman.
At number 8 is the weeded out Leak Brothers with their self-titled debut. The Leak Brothers consist of Cage and Tame One. This cd continues where shit like Nighthawks left off, where Cage joins with another Weatherman Crew member to produce somewhat of a concept album, this time all about extra strength weed. I wondered if the theme would hold up through an entire album, and the truth is, it really doesn’t matter. Because this shit is all about mood and attitude. The first half of the cd is standard rap shit, J-Zone, weed talk, Camu, more weed talk, RJD2, and even more weed talk. But by the second half, this shit goes into full Cage territory, you know, that weird, death, druggie, crazed out type shit, especially on the tight Delerium, and the eerie Dead. Hell, even Tame One channeling Slick Rick on Druggie Fresh comes off far more moody and horrific than the Doug E. Fresh party shit it was based on. And that’s good. If you dig that Necro/Cage white boy horror shit, you’ll definitely’ll be able to get into this.
Now we reach number 7 with Handsome Boy Modeling School and White People. Handsome Boy is Prince Paul, former De La Soul and GraveDiggaz producer, and Automator, producer on Dr. Octagon and Gorillaz. There second album goes more into the rock territory. The singing tracks work better than the rapping tracks. I was suprised that I’d enjoy Jack Johnson and John Oates more than I would Casual and Rza, especially since Jack Johnson sucks almost as much as John Mayer. But suprisingly I dug the white boy shit more than the hood shit. This cd is at its best when it’s in mellow mode, which is most of the time. The only real misstep I noticed was with the Chino Moreno, El-P & Cage collaboration The Hours. Chino’s awful singing ruins an otherwise dope track. The song doesn’t kick into high gear until Cage and El-P break on the scene. Also, the skits aren’t quite as funny as they were on on How’s Your Girl. That Chris Elliot sample is killer. But overall, this shit works. So, go get it.
Anyway. I had a hard time deciding number 10. Usually people put really personal crappy favorites at 10, and I’m no exception. At first, I thought about RJD2’s Since We Last Spoke. The album was uneven, but there were some tracks on there that I really enjoyed. This album wasn’t as decent as DeadRinger, but it was a respectable follow up in the sophomore album vein. I don’t know if I enjoyed his switch from soul to rock, seeing that many of the best tracks on Since We Last Spoke still have a soulful bent to them, but I still respected that he was brave enough to branch out into rock, even if it was corny 80s rock.
Since I wasn’t completely impressed with Since We Last Spoke, I decided to focus on the album I’ve studied the most this year, Foreign Exchange’s Connected. This album was put together over the Internet, or AIM, between Little Brother’s Phonte and some dude named Nickolay (I hope I got that right). I enjoyed this cd because it felt like an album, like all the tracks were meant to be grouped together. The only problem I had with the album was it’s rhythm and blues, neo-soul sound. I’m sorry, but that Roots sound just doesn’t work for me completely when it comes to hip-hop. I like a grittier, more sample based approach, or at least one without so much singing included. 9th Wonder seems to understand the balance. Nickolay doesn’t. Still, I was impressed with this new dude’s production. I think he’ll make a great R&B producer in the future.
So, now I introduce the album I picked for 10. This album came out of nowhere. I kept passing it up. I honestly didn’t think that it would be that great. The cd I’m talking about is Blueprint’s Chamber Music, the best instrumental hip-hop album of 2004. I normally don’t find Blueprint’s production all that compelling. It’s mostly dulling and depressive. But that style works here. Most people won’t be able to get into this brooding symphonic work of art, and at times it approaches elevator music, but after a couple of complete listens, the sound and constuction of the album works for me. And Blueprint seems to be one of the few people around that can make Puff Daddy, or P. Diddy sound deep.