Torii MacAdams AKA China Slim Tea AKA Yung Dieter’s Delight
Young Jeezy – “Where I’m From”
The Game – “El Chapo”
When The Game and Young Jeezy came to prominence, I’d begun to put listening to rap on hold (That’s a different, boring essay.). I now understand, more than I did ten years ago, the general attraction to them–they were logical extensions of their respective regions’ traditions, and both are capable, strong-voiced rappers. But rap wasn’t particularly good in 2005–there were local power vacuums to be filled, and The Game and Young Jeezy (and T.I.) filled them.
One of my high school basketball coaches was an utterly terrifying, musclebound ex-cop from South Central, who would eventually be fired for embezzling funds from fundraisers. The only time I was ever in his car, he played Doctor’s Advocate at a volume that threatened to both deafen me and knock the door hinges off his crumbling subcompact.
A Tribe Called Quest – “Bonita Applebum (Pharrell Remix)”
I’m an unabashed fan of Pharrell Williams’ production, if not necessarily his recent saccharine pop anthems, or his penchant for hats stolen from Dudley Do-Right. Beneath Williams’ towering Vivienne Westwood chapeau is a producer who, for the better part of a decade, created rap music that sounded like the future–no easy feat. The Neptunes were a study in restraint: Kelis’s milkshake and The Clipse’s triple beam were never overburdened by crowded, busy production. Pharrell’s “Bonita Applebum” remix would fit in with his early-2000’s oeuvre, all lasers and smooth silver textures.
DJ Khaled ft. Future & Rick Ross – “I Don’t Play About My Paper”
To paraphrase Bruce Dickinson, Rick Ross and Future put their pants on one leg at a time, just like we do–but when their pants are on, they make gold records. The pear-shaped Miami rapper and the high cheek-boned lothario helped catapult Ace Hood’s “Bugatti” into Platinum certification, combined for the immensely catchy “Ring Ring,” and, despite Ross’s unscientific and execrable rhymes about date rape, Rocko’s “U.O.E.N.O.” (which also features Future Hendrix) is nearly perfect. There are stronger entries in the Future & Ross canon than “I Don’t Play About My Paper,” but likely none which have debuted with such a full-spirited display from the Funkmaster Flex arsenal.
Young Thug – “Raw”
Young Thug is a rapper, Young Thug is a balladeer. Young Thug is both, simultaneously. He’s a narrow-hipped artist with a wide vocal range, capable of nasal yelps and throaty gurgles, often in the same line. “Raw” begins as a straightforward rap song, and quickly descends into Thugger’s most open-shirted harmonizing.
One of the great joys of Young Thug is the often Grand Canyon-sized gulf between his tone and lyrics. “Raw” has all the hallmarks of a contemporary R&B ballad: the beat has a screwed vocal sample and a sparse, breathy delicateness that borders on treacly. Then Thug declares “I swear to God I’m gonna do everything I ain’t did/Plus brody say her pussy bout as pink as a pig” and the universe is, for the briefest of moments, at equilibrium.
Troy Ave – “Pac Man”
New York City is the birthplace of the Rap Goon. The city’s self-styled wise ass attitude dictated the production of, and dialogue surrounding, rap music for twenty years. No longer. The Rap Goon didn’t go away. Rather, the Rap Goon has become archetype, an easily replicable, easily parodied relic, whose sound, style, and mores are attuned to the Rudy Giuliani administration. For rappers of a certain age, being a Carhartt jacket-and-Timberland-boot knucklehead is perfectly acceptable behavior–no one wants to see Noreaga with bleached dreadlocks and skinny jeans. (Okay, maybe just once.) For Troy Ave, it’s performative; the era to which he subscribes is not his own. “Pac Man” is an appropriate song title for Troy Ave–his music is outdated, and played by those who want a hit of nostalgia.
Sauce Twinz & Sosamann – “SauceTacular”
The video for “SauceTacular” has the Twinz and three comely “friends” driving around Beverly Hills in a Mercury Comet. To the denizens of Beverly Hills, Sancho Saucy and Sauce Walka are nobodies, and, in the realm of tourist behavior, two young, black men dancing next to a rented car likely doesn’t register as anything more than low-level hijinks. There’s a limited-budget charm to the whole endeavor–it’s unspoken, and understood, that the Sauce Twinz do not live in Beverly Hills. The illusion of wealth and glamor is essential to rap aesthetics, though, and few cities have more wealth and glamor to lend to provincial sensibilities than Beverly Hills.
Royce Rizzy ft. Rich The Kid – “Not The Same”
Royce Rizzy claims that he and I are not the same which, based on video evidence, is a falsehood. He, too, has eaten at the Roscoe’s in Hollywood.
