Evan Nabavian was the first responder at Andre Rison’s four alarm blaze I’m 24. I have thick eyebrows and stubble that never really goes away. People tell me I look like the Grinch and sound like Darth Vader. They suggest I smile more. They should see me when I listen to “Weak” by Angel Taylor. […]
Evan Nabavian is inside the above vehicle. I remember a Joe Budden screed on a DJ Clue mixtape where Budden decried “Singin’ ass niggas”. I probably nodded in affirmation from my perch in suburban New York before running back a Paul Cain verse. But times change. DJ Clue becomes DJ Esco, sour diesel becomes dirty […]
Evan Nabavian is in the danger zone. Vado ranks somewhere between Red Cafe and Jae Millz on the ‘NYC Rappers I Don’t Care About’ power rankings. This circle of rappers usually makes nondescript 201X radio rap with shades of Bad Boy, Roc-A-Fella, Dipset, or D-Block. These guys are as wack as they are generic, but […]
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Evan Nabavian is Irie. God inspires rare performances. I know this from watching kids try to tear vocal chords in bar mitzvah class and also from finding myself speaking in tongues when I first heard Brrd’s “Hail Di King” – a bootleg remix of an ode to Haile Selassie I. Abrahamic religions form like Voltron. […]
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Evan Nabavian only drives drunk on Wednesdays. On “The D.U.I. Song” Starlito narrates a night that begins with a few beers and ends wrapped around a telephone pole. He makes the Saved by the Bell reference before you can, and the characters, plot, and setting reveal a deft storyteller with a firm grasp of narrative. Starlito […]
There’s the idyllic winter night in New York – Kevin McCallister reuniting with his mom under the Rockerfeller Center Christmas tree after thwarting Harry and Marv yet again – and then there’s reality: convincing yourself that that $9 burrito is worth braving the haunted wastes of Manhattan. When I’m facing wind that feels like it’s […]
Evan Nabavian once wrote an oral history of The Tales in the Hood Soundtrack. In 2014, the musical tradition of Los Angeles gang culture competes with budding movements in the South and Midwest to be the national sound of inner city conflagration ere it retire as the – yo, fuck, sorry but check out Yams’ […]
Evan Nabavian is holding four aces. The lexicon of macks, dons, players, pimps, hustlers, and Gs gets an overhaul from Willie The Kid on “Let The Money Stay.” His neo-noir vignette is a string of salient details: lily white leather, pink panties, sauvignon blanc. Absent are minks, canes, and hard-toe gators. Rather, Willie’s rhymes assume […]
Evan Nabavian never owned stock in Polaroid. Rap music is especially fun when it confounds and Knxwledge’s Rap Jointz Vol. 1 does that a few times with analog madness and inebriated performances from the underground’s best. I started checking for the LA-based, NJ-born beatmaker in 2011 when he dropped his Hexual.Sealings LP of haywire neo-soul […]
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Evan Nabavian is the lizard king. Hiroshi Yamauchi stories are the best. When the late Nintendo boss couldn’t find his driver, he had one of the company’s engineers drive him to a meeting. On the way, the engineer spoke to fill the silence – the boss didn’t talk much. The engineer recalled seeing a man […]