Off this great compilation that came out two weeks ago. Does anybody know anything about The Hykkers. Specifically, how I can find out more stuff like this? If you do, send me an e-mail in Morse code. Thanks.
MP3: The Hykkers-”I Want a Break Through”
Pete Rock needs no introduction. His new album NY’s Finest drops on Tuesday. While it might not be a classic on the level of a Soul Survivors or Mecca & The Soul Brother, it’s a strong record with occasionally great moments. But buyer beware: Jim Jones yells “floooosssssiiiin’” no less than four times.
Q: You’ve stated that your intent for NY’s Finest was to modernize your classic sound while attempting to retain that ‘grimy boom-bap” music that you helped pioneer. How did you go about achieving this? Was it a matter of you implementing a new philosophy, buying new equipment, a combination of the two?
I’m back from Puerto Vallarta where I was forced to suffer the half-horrific, half-hysterical spectacle of watching a bunch of oversized American frat boy wiggers (sideways caps, “La Coka Nostra” t-shirts) alternately perform the Soulja Boy dance and make “swish” motions while listening to “We Fly High.” Not even touching the various other sundry feats of douchebaggery that they performed on the scantily clad women that abounded. I’m pretty sure I saw things that have been outlawed in several ultra-conservative Midwestern counties. Needless to say, the weekend left me vaguely convinced of the impending downfall of the American empire yet after coming home and watching the video from English rap group, Red Hot Entertainment, I am pleased to announce that we’re all going to Hell. Whether, we’ll go in in a hand basket or not, I remain unsure. To be honest, I’m more of a backpack guy. Regularly scheduled programming will resume tomorrow. In the meantime, ladies and gentleman, it’s “Junior Spesh.” Because Britain obviously needed its own, “Fry that Chicken.”
The strike is over. So now what the hell do we do now? So many of us have been out of work, out of money, and tired of giving a shit about this strike. It seems odd that we’ll soon be immersed knee-deep in shows, pilots, movies and awards telecasts. But will Hollywood return to its second golden age, or will we once more be underwhelmed by the massive flood of content that hardly seemed worth striking for to begin with? Well, no one can really say yet, but here’s a few tips to make sure you don’t waste your time once scripted television returns.
Avoid any new show on ABC at all costs. While I used to work for them, I have a hard time justifying anything they’ve made in the past few years, save for their Grateful-Dead-themed nuclear family sitcom “Sons and Daughters.” But that show, like so many others, was pulled well before it had a chance to truly find it’s way. I’m convinced to this day it was so they could rush “Eli Stone” into production. And oh, thank god they did. George Michael and another “John From Cincinnati” plot line? How original! They desperately needed to take a cue from HBO and realize that if the show didn’t work there (on a network that’s no holds barred), it’s not going to work on a dippy family-safe network.
Give NBC a second chance. Sure the days of “Friends,” “Seinfeld,” and “Frasier” are over, but that doesn’t mean they’ll never produce anything worthwhile ever again. I have a funny feeling that even though this network slipped into 4th place over the past 4 years (coincidentally the exact amount of time that I’ve worked in entertainment), it’s due for a major rebound. And what so many people forget is that this network has always been the home for comedy. Remember Must See TV? That’s NBC. And remember “The Cosby Show,” “Cheers,” and “The Fresh Prince of Bel Air?” They were all on NBC. Clearly they’ve made a few missteps in the past few years, but to this day they still have the strongest comedies on TV, especially when you consider that the alphabet calls “Ugly Betty” and “Desperate Housewives” sitcoms. “Housewives,” by the way, opened with the lead character taking her own life, then becoming the narrator of the show. Maybe it’s just me, but suicide isn’t funny. It’s easy, but it isn’t funny. And yes, that was a “M*A*S*H” joke.
Now that “The Wire” is coming to an end after 7 fantastic seasons, strap yourself in for HBO’s new mini-series “John Adams.” Paul Giamatti will be taking the title role, a perfect fit for him after his mind-blowing performance in “Shoot ‘Em Up,” or what I like to call “the worst movie ever ever made.” Laura Linney has been cast as his wife and she never disappoints. Her work in “The Truman Show” still haunts me to this day. Beyond that, with the tremendous success of their other minis like “Rome,” it becomes easy to justify watching HBO. They spare no expense, and the proof has been consistently in the pudding. Plus, with no more “Sopranos” or ” The Wire” left to watch, this justifies keeping that pricey subscription.
Otherwise, make sure never to watch CBS, don’t vote for the next “American Idol” (as I’m 50% sure they’ll have the contest again next year), and for the love of god- get Seth Meyers out of the “Saturday Night Live” head writer position.
Welcome back, madame Television.
On Sunday Barack Obama completed his sweep of the most recent primaries with a devastating win in
Hilary Clinton is like Apollonia (D-NY), a glorified back-up singer desperate for the spotlight who doesn’t really care who she sings for; she just wants to get put on. “Put me on! Please! Put me on! I’ll do anything! What do I have to do?” Well, for starters, you have to purify yourself in the waters of
Let’s Have Some Asses Wigglin’….I Wanna See Some Perfection!
John McCain is like Morris Day and
Download:
MP3: Prince (Obama)-”Let’s Go Crazy”
Zilla Rocca has no heart. Instead, his chest cavity is filled with grime and steel. Like Keith Richards, he cannot be killed by conventional weapons.
Valentine’s Day is here…again. On my quest to spend the bulk of my time not buying chocolate, heart-shaped candies, nor ridiculously overpriced flowers, I stumbled upon quite possibly the best “worst” gifts you could possibly get someone for Valentine’s Day. Below is a list of the top 10 worst gifts available RIGHT NOW on the trusty ol’ internets. Bad spelling included.
Product Description: “Are you at a loss for a Valentine gift this year? Looking for something unique yet humorous…Perhaps a “teaser” gift for your Significant Other? Try our Valentine Toilet Paper Card! Sure to elicit smiles and laughter, along with being practical, this gift will be an instant hit! A great gift for those who refuse to go the traditional candy-and-flowers route!” $14.00
Perfect Valentine’s Gift For: George Brett post-hemmoroids, Vanilla Ice (as played by Jim Carrey on “In Living Color”), whatever kid raps that “Wipe Me Down” song
Verdict: This would actually be a funny gift if you could personalize the note on the card (“Girl, you are the shit”). However, the Toiler Paper Card comes with its own poem. It’s really gay and sounds like Fran the 45 year old cat lady from Hallmark wrote it. Here’s the last line: “I’d buy a roll of tissue paper to wipe your pretty bum.” There’s nothing more romantic than telling a woman how much you’d love to clean up her poop shoot. It’s like Colt 45, except it works…(not anytime in recorded human history.)
2. The Love Gun
Product Description: “Love is in the air…literally! The Love Gun is a 5-3/4″ red and pink plastic cupid cannon. Just load one of the four tiny 1-1/4″ plastic cupids into the compartment and shoot it at the girl or guy of your dreams. The Love Gun’s powers have not been fully tested. Love is not guaranteed. $4.95
Perfect Valentine’s Gift For: Dick Cheney, die hard fans of The Love Below, passive-aggressive hippies, the designer of Gnarls Barkley’s MySpace page
Verdict: The term “love gun” itself is an oxymoron, and it sounds like a weapon left over from Mystery Men. As a straight man, I’m reluctant to purchase anything that is described as a “red and pink plastic cupid cannon.” True, “love is not guaranteed” but I’m not in an emo band nor do I particularly care for John Cusack rom-coms not titled High Fidelity nor Better Off Dead. It should boost your street cred in San Francisco which is a positive, but overall I’ve never found gay weaponry to be terribly romantic.
“This is the number one rule for your set/In order to survive, gotta learn to live with regrets/And through our travels we get separated, never forget/In order to survive, gotta learn to live with regrets”-Jay-Z “Regrets”
Rappers today don’t live with regrets. Or maybe they just don’t express them well enough. The truth is that 99 percent of them are liars. I’ve spoken to more than enough of them to know it and Ben Westhoff’s very on-point article in last month’s Miami New Times effectively hammered home this point. Sometimes it feels like every one of them is a billionaire, a drug kingpin, players who treat objects like women (to quote the great Jeffrey Lebowski). It’s all kayfabe. Label execs wondering why sales are in the tank, might want to think twice about their artists’ lack of relatability. Sure, things ultimately come down to who makes the hottest tracks, but never underestimate Kanye’s sense of humanity, something that made him infinitely preferable when contrasted with 50’s steroid-addled caricature.
By contrast, eMc’s new album The Show is all about humanity, it’s about regrets, it’s about the concept of small victories resting uncomfortably next to failures. It’s also the first great rap record of 2008. Taking a page from the day-in-the-life structure of eMC member, Masta Ace’s brilliant, A Long Hot Summer and Disposable Arts, The Show’s premise revolves around a day in the life of the kinda’ sorta’ super-group consisting of ex-Lyricist Lounge staples Punchline & Wordsworth, Ace and his protege, Stricklin. From getting picked up at the airport, to lounging in the hotel room, to handling promo at the radio station, to the show itself, the album’s format is basic and were this merely a play-by-numbers expose of the lives of underground rappers, it’d be hard to imagine anything more dull.
eMC: Almost As Good as South Park
But The Show is anything but boring. Granted, those looking for ephemeral flash and outrageous braggadocio should look elsewhere. This record is one of the most emotionally resonant rap records made in the decade, with each MC well-aware of his personal and career failings. Yet rather than gratingly complain or make reductive “too smart for the masses” arguments, the members of eMC possess a sort of fatalistic resignation gained from the vicissitudes of existence. The Show is a sober-eyed document cataloging the the struggles inherent in trying to eke out a living in a failing industry, one punch-drunk on youth and danger, things that none of the members of the group possess.
You’ll have to forgive the cliche, but The Show is grown-man rap. The members of eMC are imbued with a sort of wisdom all too rare in contemporary hip-hop. I imagine if I heard this record at 15, I’d have liked it well-enough. The beats are supplied by an underground all-star squad of 9th Wonder, Marco Polo, and Nicolay, the rhymes come fast and funny, and the group coax welcome guest appearances from Little Brother and Sean Price. Yet this is undeniably an artistically mature record, one obsessed with the concept of change and blessed with the sort of sadness that only can only stem from a recognition of life’s fragility. Penning poignant songs on everything from the deaths of their mothers and the difficulties of sustaining relationships, underneath everything lies an unspoken acknowledgment that life might not always deliver on the lofty promises once hinted at.
As the epigraph alludes, The Show is about the idea of learning to live with regrets. Were eMC to dwell on their respective career failings, The Show would be just that. And to be fair, these rappers would be partially validated. Masta Ace has five solo albums under his belt, all of them ranging from great to very good and still, he’s practically anonymous other than among 12 bloggers on the Internet. Punchline and Wordsworth were once tabbed to be the next Rawkus big things but lacking the charisma of a Mos or a Kweli found themselves relegated to trivia questions revolving around that old MTV Lyricist Lounge show. As for Stricklin, I’ve never even heard of the guy. But on The Show, the group delivered one of the most intellectually honest, engaging and eminently listenable artistic triumph. Learning how to live with regrets hasn’t only allowed these guys to survive, it’s also enabled them to thrive.
See Also The Good Doctor Zeus’ and Wake Your Daughter Up’s similarly positive reviews
MP3: eMC-”Git Some”
MP3: eMC-”Winds of Change”
I’m going to Puerto Vallarta for a week for a friend’s wedding. Tough life. In the meantime, starting tomorrow, I’ll have a Murderer’s Row of guest bloggers filling in for me. If you need me in the interim ask for Jefe. I’ll be the one drinking tequila out of a sombrero. It’s the Latin equivalent of drinking rum out of Stanley cups.
Download:
MP3: The Coasters-”Down In Mexico”
I’ve written about Atlanta producer/sometime rapper, Jamie Radford once or twice before, so no real need to repeat the introduction. Currently, he’s releasing two new instrumentals for a film he’s working on, the first “Crunchy White,” described as a collision of “crunchy digital synths with dirty south 808 bass,” while “Solaris” aims to serve as “the triumphant anthem of a quixotic hero.” Both are very good. If you enjoy the likes of Prefuse 73 and Aphex Twin, downloading is recommended.
MP3: Jamie Radford-”Crunchy White”
MP3: Jamie Radford-”Solaris”
You are currently browsing the Passion of the Weiss weblog archives for February, 2008.