Image via Young Slo-Be/Instagram
Steven Louis wrote this column using Microsoft WordArt.
Young Slo-Be – “Notorious”
To evoke the eternal cool of Miles Davis, then drape it in a Nike tech and give it a Thizzler exclusive — Young Slo-Be doesn’t say what’s there, but what’s not there. He has become the epochal artist for the Stockton sound in the two years since his passing, and his punctuated flow and conspicuous vocal gaps remain its most inimitable element. The socioeconomic factors enveloping hip-hop have long necessitated speaking in code. But Slo-Be is lightyears beyond that, fracturing his flow with sudden omissions that are masterfully chaotic.
His latest posthumous mixtape, Slo-Be Bryant 4, is assured and eerie. “Notorious” is a standout, with the holes in his raps creating small vortexes of cold air across Jaym3s’ sparse beat. I’m still struck by the way Slo-Be builds a scheme across three bars, just to hurl it into the abyss with an abrupt new rhyme in the fourth. The whole tape is the celebration of a far-reaching career tragically truncated — though we know that his ooowwweee and ah ah ahhh adlibs will fill the empty spaces until California crumbles into the Pacific.
Danny Brown – “Cheaters”
Danny Brown knows exactly what he’s doing here. Perhaps the most polarizing character from the entire Blog Era, the Detroiter has undergone a personal and sonic transformation under public gaze. He broke out off a buffet of psychedelics and amphetamines — while detailing how his romantic endeavors smelled of Cool Ranch Doritos, but also Tropical Fruit Skittles, but also a penguin. He has since gotten sober and mentored a new generation of Hybrids, and is now rap culture’s preeminent trans ally. On “Cheaters,” Danny reminds us that he’s still a messy module of American masculinity, capable of tremendous maturation while conceding selfishness. The clandestine bass cuts like Joey Greco and his camera crew across a mall parking lot. The Black Milk beat literally squeaks in discomfort. Bruiser Wolf adlibs as the devil on the shoulder. “Lost hold of self-control, really need more discipline / said I wouldn’t go do it, but got caught again.” You don’t have to be a fledgling polygamist to feel those lyrics in your bones.
Tyler, The Creator – “Rah Tah Tah”
Tyler, The Creator has a special touch for post-Neptunes nerd plush. But I often find him most compelling as a garish maximalist, which he assumes on “Rah Tah Tah” from CHROMAKOPIA. The production is crowded and wobbly, with the synth pitched high enough to manipulate every dog in Los Angeles County. He shifts through vocal tones with controlled manicness. This is music to lock yourself in the trunk to. Tyler throws a Curry-esque 35 footer in Zendaya’s direction, slaps peanut butter on biscuit-ass onlookers, and smashes the gas pedal before double-parking the LaFerrari. For all his heterodoxy, Tyler still remains interested in sharp technical rapping — rhyming “top bunker” with “box muncher” should make Big Daddy Kane swoon. CHROMAKOPIA should take several listens and repeated unpacking, but this track is gleefully straightforward.
Ice Cube – “It’s My Ego”
Even by Major League Baseball standards, last week’s Dodgers World Series parade was a particularly drunken affair. I think the enduring image will be manager Dave Roberts backing it up in Ice Cube’s direction during “It Was a Good Day” — eternal confirmation that hitting the switch does indeed make that ass drop. Cube also performed his LA anthem at Dodgers Stadium before Game 2, walking out from the bullpen to 55 thousand twirling blue towels. “It’s My Ego” is nostalgic without gimmick, gangster without an expiration date. Produced by The Almighty E-A-SKI for Lench Mob Records (who else?), it sounds like everyone involved here was truly having fun. “I was Kendrick before Kendrick” is a bar. Our master of ceremonies promises that you’ll need a Maxi Pad…not because you’re effeminate, which would be regressive, but because he’s about to Deebo your skull and you’ll need a tourniquet to stop the bleeding, which is awesome. In a highlight year for Los Angeles — World Series ring, “Not Like Us,” etc. — an unlabored new Ice Cube album seems like an equitable ending to 2024.
