Rhapsody: The Mix: Hip-Hop Category Feed

Radio: Urban Hits

2011-12-01T13:10:08Z

These days, urban music can encompass dance pop, quiet-storm soul, and hardcore hip-hop, from Rihanna to Charlie Wilson, from Jill Scott to Lil Wayne in "How to Love" mode. This would all be confusing, except for one thing: You know an R&B track when you hear it. That's why our Urban Hits station mixes tracks from genre queens Beyoncé and Mary J Blige with adult-contemporary goddess Adele and rap heroine Nicki Minaj. All of them contribute to our current understanding of R&B as less of a fixed genre (or a fixed race) than an aesthetic. It's a style of music with deep roots in soul and an appreciation of pop music's boundless creativity. Most importantly, it retains the ability to speak to a wide international audience. So don't be surprised if you hear Rick Ross' "Aston Martin Music" after Trey Songz "Bottoms Up." This is the sound of R&B in 2011.

Listen Now: Urban Hits

Hip-Hop Roundup, November 2011

2011-11-22T17:01:51Z

It's nearing the end of the year, and there's no shortage of rappers trying to squeeze in an album for holiday shoppers. The big releases this month come from Drake, Wale, Gym Class Heroes and, surprisingly, Mac Miller. December brings The Roots, Common, and Snoop Dogg & Wiz Khalifa. However, there are plenty of lower-profile albums worth a listen, too; so many, in fact, that I couldn't squeeze them in. I compiled a list of them at the end of this roundup.

Click here to listen to a playlist: November 2011 Hot Rap Singles

1. Drake
Take Care
For Take Care, Drake re-ups the lush R&B romanticism of 2010's Thank Me Later, albeit with a twist. "I know I exaggerated things/ But now I got it like that," he says on "Headlines," where he threatens to sic his bodyguards on haters. (What happened to Gang Starr's "Suckas Need Bodyguards"?) Big cars, pliant women and deliciously ambient beats from Boi-1da and Noah "40" Shebib inspire this tastefully appointed exercise in debauchery. But Drake's not too famous to beg the girls on "Marvin's Room" and the title track, even if it sounds more like a booty call than true love. [Mosi Reeves]

]]> 2. Mac Miller
Blue Slide Park
Mac Miller detailed his journey from Pittsburg prospect to Internet phenom much better on the On and On and Beyond EP. With the goal line for stardom in sight, Blue Slide Park sounds triumphantly carefree. What it lacks in depth — thanks to Miller's tedious variations on "I'm so rich and famous" and "b*tch*s want to sleep with me" — it makes up with ambient vibes from ID Labs ("Of the Soul"), Clams Casino ("My Team") and others. Miller tosses a few clunkers, like "I always do it big like a Jewish nose." But he's smart enough not to mess up a winning hand. [M.R.]

3. Wale
Ambition
Contrary to its title, Wale's Ambition is less ambitious than his uneven 2009 debut Attention Deficit. That may be a good thing. He still uses florid melodies and occasionally dips into go-go rhythms, particularly on the standout "Double M Genius" and the hit single "That Way," the latter sampling from Curtis Mayfield's "Give Me Your Love." His rhymes are less introspective, though, as he turns his adventures as a semifamous rapper into an urban pop confection. ("DC or Nothing" is an exception.) Wale's Ambition is platinum success; musical aesthetics will have to wait. [M.R.]

4. Gym Class Heroes
The Papercut Chronicles II
On their first album since Travie McCoy's solo turn, Gym Class Heroes play things a bit safe. The Papercut Chronicles II doesn't get as playful as previous efforts have. Mischievous titles take off in serious directions: "Martyrial Girl$" is pretty cynical, while "Ass Back Home" turns out to be a kinda heartwarming love song. Much of the quirk is reserved for collaborators: British dance-pop weirdo Neon Hitch, indie ingénue Oh Land. But who needs quirk when you've got slick beats, smooth flows and, of course, lots of girl talk, like on "Lazarus, Ze Gitan," a revamped "California Girls." [Rachel Devitt]

5. YelaWolf
Radioactive
Yelawolf has long aspired to "arena rap" that mixes hard rock with Dirty South rap, and he finally gets his chance with Radioactive. Indeed, this is the only time you'll hear Three 6 Mafia affiliate Gangsta Boo and Kid Rock on the same record. Eminem ("Throw It Up"), a post-incarcerated Mystikal ("Get Away") and Fefe Dobson ("Animal") appear, too, but no matter how many features there are, it still comes down to the songs. For that matter, most of Radioactive is crack-rock solid, but a few tracks, like "Everything I Love the Most," overreach for mainstream acceptance. [M.R.]

6. Pusha T
Fear of God II: Let Us Pray
Fear of God II: Let Us Pray is a revised version of a mixtape Pusha T posted on the Internet. The original Fear of God paired original tracks with freestyles, including "My God" and "Raid" with Pharrell Williams and 50 Cent; this new version adds more star power, including Young Jeezy and Kanye West ("Amen") and Odd Future's Tyler, the Creator ("Trouble on My Mind"). For his part, Pusha T flips drug-dealing metaphors despite the implausibility of the idea that someone with 10 years in the rap game still gets "paper bag money." But that gangsta rap fantasia is part of his charm. [M.R.]

7. Childish Gambino
Camp
Childish Gambino thinks he's the weird black kid who's different from everyone else. But he wants to indulge in rap clichés, too, from running through "b*tch*s" and driving Maybachs to clowning "backpackers." As he raps and occasionally sings in an impassioned voice reminiscent of Patrick Stump, and underscores his rhymes with string arrangements akin to those on Kanye West's albums, Childish Gambino doesn't bother to unravel Camp's contradictions. However, his best songs — the intraracial discord of "Hold You Down," the working-class smart kid in "Outside" — help us understand what he's going through. [M.R.]

8. Webbie
Savage Life 3
With his mushy voice and stumbling delivery, Webbie isn't even the best rapper in his Trill Fam crew — that honor belongs to the currently imprisoned Lil Boosie, with Lil Phat a close second. But the Baton Rouge, La., thug has a knucklehead's grace on Savage Life 3 as he rambles over strip club homages like "Bounce That," "I Do Em All" and "Mo Ass," and rag-swinging headbangers like "What's Happenin'." Webbie's zone is getting the club crunk; when he swerves into a different lane, like a tribute to his "Momma," it's not as fun. [M.R.]

9. Tech N9ne
Welcome to Strangeland
On the latest Tech N9ne Collabos showcase, the Strange Music crew spends the album discussing the after-effects of Tech's mainstream breakthrough, All 6's and 7's, from party favors ("My Favorite") and pornographic sex ("Won't You Come Dirty," "Retrogression") to fame itself ("Overwhelming") over ambient goth-metal beats. Though nominally a compilation with appearances from Mayday, Brotha Lynch Hung, Kutt Calhoun and others, Welcome to Strangeland sounds like a concept album, as these self-described "swinging c*cks of hip-hop, R&B and rock" adjust to their newfound success. [M.R.]

10. USDA
The After Party
Young Jeezy's voice is mostly absent from this showcase for his USDA crew, and when he takes the mic, it's on "Bandana," one of the album's weaker tracks. That leaves Slick Pulla, 2Eleven and Boo Rossini to turn The After Party's screwface taunts and trap talk into a surprisingly entertaining hour. Freddie Gibbs, who recently signed to Young Jeezy's Corporate Thugz, has a nice verse on "On My Sh*t"; the hammerhead beat on "Dolla Billz" will make the brostep kids go nuts; and "Maybe" and "Epic Night" match an '80s R&B vibe with thug love raps.

Also see:
Nappy Roots: Nappy Dot Org
Kidz in the Hall: Occasion
Action Bronson: Well Done
Doomtree: No Kings
Stalley: Lincoln Way Nights
M.O.P.: Sparta
Onra: Chinoiseries Pt. 2
Jedi Mind Tricks: Violence Begets Violence
Pac Div: The Div

Rhapsody Speakeasy: Yelawolf

2011-11-21T17:15:39Z

Here's our exclusive interview with rising Alabama rapper Yelawolf: he talks about his new record Radioactive, how he caught the attention of label boss Eminem, and how being a Southern musician gives you a deep appreciation for soul, funk, country music and beyond. Enjoy.

Drake Takes Over

2011-11-16T18:00:07Z

Drake is the man of the hour. This week the Toronto rapper/singer/sensitive lothario finally unveils Take Care, his second album, capping a meteoric rise that began in earnest with 2009's So Far Gone mixtape; continued with last year's major-label debut, Thank Me Later ("Shut It Down" is still incredible, BTW); and surged further this year thanks to high-profile guest spots, most notably on DJ Khaled's summer anthem "I'm on One." So here's how we're celebrating: an in-depth look at the delicious ambience but uneasy sexual politics of Take Care itself, a playlist of the singles and deep cuts Drake had a hand in this year, a celebration of his Young Money crewmates Nicki Minaj and Lil Wayne, and more. Enjoy.

	Take Care Review: Exploring one of the year's biggest rap albums			Drake Playlist: Guest spots and deep cuts from an outlandishly prolific year
	Young Money Millionaires: Drake, Nicki Minaj and Lil Wayne take over			Hip-Hop Hits Radio: Hear Wayne, Drake, Jay, Kanye and more

Catching Up with Drake

2011-11-16T14:37:12Z

Every rap season has that one rapper whose mere voice ensures radio airplay and paid downloads. Over the past 12 months, that artist has been Drake. He turned DJ Khaled's "I'm on One" into what was arguably the summer hip-hop anthem, and then did the same for Lil Wayne's "She Will" this fall. His only rivals for the 2011 Busta Rhymes Hot 16 Award (named for the man who virtually invented breakout guest appearances back in the early '90s) are his Young Money compatriots Weezy and Nicki Minaj.

That makes this playlist of Drake's many guest appearances and pre-Take Care singles almost unnecessary. But there are a few tracks that haven't reached critical mass (yet). There's J Cole's "In the Morning," which was originally recorded for Cole's Friday Night Lights mixtape and was subsequently included on Cole World: The Sideline Story. (It's a nice tune — I wouldn't be surprised if it became a single.) Then there's The Game's "Good Girls Gone Bad," T.I.'s "Poppin' Bottles," Bun B's "It's Been a Pleasure" and Pimp C's "What Up." All told, every retail track on which Drake has appeared since Thank Me Later is included here. You can thank me now.

Listen now: Catching Up With Drake

Drake's Take Care: An Extended Review

2011-11-16T14:08:36Z

On the cover of his second album, Take Care, Drake holds a chalice. He's dressed in a black shirt with the top buttons undone, revealing his chest, and he wears a few gold chains around his neck. ("Bracelets and rings/ All the little accents that make me a king," he says on "Lord Knows," before adding that his only role models are Hugh Hefner, Michael Jordan and his Young Money/Cash Money Billionaires bosses Lil Wayne and Baby the Birdman.) His eyes stare soulfully at the table in front of him, as if he were deep in thought. It's as if he wants to tell us that he, too, has dark moments of the soul.

Take Care is a thematic follow-up to 2010's Thank Me Later, but it's much closer to the pop zeitgeist. It caps a year when a host of artists echoed the ambient blend of R&B and hip-hop Drake introduced last year, including Frank Ocean and The Weeknd (who appear on several Take Care tracks). Big Sean and J Cole embraced the clean-cut, proudly middle-class, fame-for-fame's-sake ethos that Drake trumpeted. He didn't invent it (that honor goes to Kanye West), but his success has come to personify it. Much of the hardcore rap audience views these suburban braggarts suspiciously, taunting them as being too "soft," lobbing homophobic slurs and claiming that they're pop sellouts. Smartly, Drake doesn't bother answering these trolls. He's too focused on extending the cultural moment that began with Thank Me Later and exploring a vague melancholy that emerges in his relationships with women.

]]> SWV's "Anything" on "Shot for Me." For "Crew Love," which 40 coproduced with The Weeknd, they interrupt deliciously ambient R&B blues with occasional keyboard throbs that, in The Weeknd's words, keep "blowing like a C4." For the title track, Jamie xx of The XX revisits his own U.K. garage remix of Gil Scott-Heron's "I'll Take Care of You" (from Scott-Heron and Jamie's We're New Here) and recruits Rihanna to reinterpret the original's chorus as a haunting siren's call. (It's not the only allusion this album makes to Kanye West's good-guy-gone-bad tragedy My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy, which memorably sampled Scott-Heron's poem "Comment #1.")

"Marvin's Room" is arguably the high point, and the moment when Drake's outward confidence and underlying insecurities come into sharp focus. It's structured around a drunken late-night booty call he makes to an old girlfriend, who has since found a new boyfriend. "F*ck that n*gg* that you love so bad," he sings. "I'm just saying you could do better." The title pays homage to Marvin Gaye, and though Drake is much younger than Gaye was during his Let's Get It On peak years, he is also a decent man seduced and trapped by his vices and his appetite for sex.

However, Gaye found artistic salvation by being brutally honest about his addictions. Perhaps Drake has yet to hit rock bottom — he certainly hasn't in his career — or maybe it's just immaturity. He eschews self-analysis and embraces the rap life as if it were religious dogma. "You say I'm such a dog/ I say you're such a bone," he says on "We'll Be Fine." On "Lord Knows," he adds, "I don't trust these hoes at all/ But that's just a result of me paying attention … I'm talking strippers and models that try to gain attention/ Even a couple porn stars that I'm ashamed to mention." Eventually, his love affair with women starts to look like good ol' hip-hop misogyny.

Drake's quest to fit in leads to some awkward moments. Hilariously, he brags about his army of bodyguards and weed carriers: "You're gonna make someone around me catch a body," he claims on "Headlines." (What happened to Gang Starr's credo "Suckas Need Bodyguards"?) On "The Ride," he marvels, "Brand new girl/ And she's still growin'/ Brand new titties/ Stitches still showin'." He spouts Weezy and UGK verses on "Under Ground Kings," reminding us how Bun B gave him "honorary" membership in the famed Texas group. For "Lord Knows," Drake offers, "I know the hustle so well/ Stunt like I'm working overnighters right by the motel." He's sympathizing with the drug dealers and working-class stiffs, but his audience hasn't forgotten that he spent much of his teen years acting on an internationally televised teen soap opera, Degrassi High: The Next Generation.

Despite veering perilously close to creepiness, Drake thinks he's the same nice guy who emerged from Toronto's indie rap scene five years ago. "I like who I'm becoming," he says reassuringly on "Crew Love." He dedicates "Look What You've Done" to his family, reserving one verse each for his sickly mother and his late uncle. He refuses to question the hip-hop industry's rituals of debauchery, and how they may have changed him beyond fattening his bank account, allowing him to drink for free in nightclubs and enabling him to have sex with different women four nights a week.

Drake's lack of self-awareness limits Take Care's impact. Yes, it's a major event. Its cloud of synths and laptop arrangements approximates chillwave and electropop, and it sounds so lovely at times that it feels all-enveloping, like a warm blanket. Drake remains an underrated rapper whose only limits are a topical focus so narrow that his engaging wordplay is overlooked. It's not a positive sign when his guests, chiefly Kendrick Lamar on "Buried Alive Interlude" and Andre 3000 on "The Real Her," plumb emotional depths with one guest verse apiece that Drake barely reaches. However, to be fair, they don't have the burden of carrying this hour-plus album.

"My junior and senior will only get meaner," Drake promises. Until then, we only have Take Care's luscious waft of ambient R&B, the brilliance of "Marvin's Room," and the comfort that Drake has considerable room for improvement.

Friday Mixtape: Hip-Hop Ego Trip

2011-11-11T14:00:14Z

When 2Pac rapped, "Every n*gg* in L.A. got a little bit of thug in him," he could have been talking about the hip-hop nation. Whether it's "conscious" fans who love Nas and Slum Village; indie kids who get off to Tyler, the Creator and Three 6 Mafia; or old-school heads who still bump Black Moon and Mobb Deep, every corner of hip-hop fandom harbors the thuggish, ruggish and just plain ignorant. I'm no different. One of my favorite things to do is drive around in my car and blast gangsta rap at high volume. Sometimes it's the beats that kill, but just as often it's the lyrics. I've never slanged keys or participated in a drive-by — or shot anyone at all, for that matter — but I can't deny that I get a rush from banging Wiz Khalifa's "Who I Am" (as in "When you see me in the club/ B*tch you know who I am) or YC's "Racks," featuring lyrics like "Strapped up/ No bodyguards." I'm not really, uh, strapped up, but I don't have a bodyguard, either. Shawty wanna ride with me?

Listen now: Friday Mixtape: Ego Trip

Heavy D, 1967-2011

2011-11-09T18:03:53Z

Dwight "Heavy D" Myers, who passed away November 8 from a heart attack at the age of 44, was part of hip-hop's original "New School," a wave of artists that brought the genre its first real critical attention. Previously, most music fans casually dismissed rappers as singles-driven electro artists and black-music novelties. Rakim, Big Daddy Kane, N.W.A., Public Enemy and others forced the world to accept them on their terms instead of the rockist criteria used to judge Run-DMC, LL Cool J and Grandmaster Flash & the Furious Five. With the New School's emergence, hip-hop grew from a fad to a generational force to be reckoned with.

However, radio programmers were reluctant to program "hardcore hip-hop," as it was called back then, for fear of upsetting older listeners. Heavy D & the Boyz were one of the few among this pioneering group to cross the generational divide and land hit singles. Beginning in 1987 with Big Tyme, the Mount Vernon, Queens crew—Heavy D, underrated producer Eddie "Eddie F" Ferrell, and backup dancers Troy "Trouble T-Roy" Dixon and Glen "G-Whiz" Parrish—dominated video shows like BET's Video Vibrations and Video Soul with funky New Jack beats and plenty of dancing. These were the kind of joints that taught you new moves to practice before the party and the latest fashions to cop at the mall. During the next several years, Heavy D & the Boyz recorded some of the best songs of the New Jack era, including "We Got Our Own Thang," "Mr. Big Stuff," and "Gyrlz, They Love Me."

When older folks reminisce about how hip-hop used to be fun, they're referring to artists like Heavy D, Salt-N-Pepa, Kool Moe Dee, Kid-N-Play and others. These artists didn't use profanity—Heavy D. & the Boyz made a track called "Don't Curse" for their 1991 album Peaceful Journey—and no one expected them to. Sadly, those days are over, and we demand that clean-cut teeny-bop acts like Soulja Boy Tell'em and New Boyz talk sh*t in order to earn their hip-hop badge. Twenty years ago, those credentials came at a higher price than potty talk: artistic creativity.

]]> Big Daddy," and included three platinum and two gold albums. When house music infiltrated the R&B scene in the early '90s, Heavy D and the Boyz scored their biggest hit with a hip-house remake of the O'Jays' "Now That We Found Love." On the group's underrated 1992 album Blue Funk, they tapped then-new innovators like DJ Premier and Pete Rock to create a jazzy hip-hop sound; "A Buncha Niggas" featured an early verse from the Notorious B.I.G. (back when he called himself Biggie Smalls). In fact, Heavy D had a major impact as a behind-the-scenes player. He brought his cousin Pete Rock into the music industry. He mentored Sean "Puff Daddy" Combs as an A&R rep at Uptown Records. (And later served as the label's president.) The death of Trouble T-Roy from a freak accident in 1990 not only inspired Peaceful Journey, but also Pete Rock and C.L. Smooth's seminal "They Reminisce Over You (T.R.O.Y.)."

It's tragic that two members of a classic feel-good rap group passed away at such a young age. But it's comforting to know that Heavy D continued to evolve right up until his death, from his forays into jiggy hip-hop (1997's Waterbed Hev) to his passion for dancehall music (which led to 2008's Vibes). After performing at this year's BET Hip-Hop Awards, he released a new album in September, Love Opus. Surprisingly, he created a sound similar to the ambient R&B of Drake and The-Dream. Amid appearances from Carl Thomas and Anthony Hamilton, Love Opus's best track is "Love in a Bottle," a song about a man who uses alcohol to ease the pain of an unfaithful girlfriend. Its topic is more realistic and universal than Drake's caterwauling about the price of fame. Then again, as Heavy D told us on "We Got Our Own Thang," "There's always meaning in a Heavy D statement."

For a sampling of his greatest hits, try my RIP Heavy D playlist.

On The Record: Zakee Talks Dr. Dre

2011-11-07T18:00:15Z

On the Record is a video series where rock stars gush about their favorite records -- in exactly 45 seconds. Click above to watch Producers Corner member Zakee give it up for Dr. Dre.

Zakee
Assimilations

Dr. Dre
The Chronic 2001

Cheat Sheet: U.K. Hip-Hop 2011

2011-11-02T14:00:29Z

There was once a time when Americans treated the idea of British rappers as a joke. How could the English, with their funny accents and halting rhymes, approach the dexterity and rhythm of quality hip-hop music? Those days ended with the classic 1997 compilation Black Whole Styles, and Roots Manuva's groundbreaking 1999 debut Brand New Second Hand. Since then, we've been aware that the U.K. has a strong hip-hop movement that rivals our own.

However, our knowledge of it remains incomplete. It's not our fault — most U.K. rap never makes it across the pond. Last week, Professor Green — who is both hailed and criticized as the U.K. Eminem — released his second album, At Your Inconvenience. It's expected to debut near the top of the British charts, yet it's not scheduled for release in the States. The same goes for Chipmunk (Transition) and Wretch 32 (Black and White).

Ironically, the stuff we hear tends to be via indie labels, like Ninja Tune and its Big Dada subsidiary (Roots Manuva, Wiley and Dels). It's often experimental, with obvious appeal to adventurous listeners — electronic and indie fans in particular. Meanwhile, traditional U.K. rap gets ignored, perhaps because American hip-hop fans are assumed to be more conservative in their tastes. But even a reputation as critic favorites didn't help Dizzee Rascal, whose 2009 U.K. hit Tongue N' Cheek was never released here; nor The Streets, whose final album, Computers & Blues, didn't get a proper retail release (although it's available digitally).

]]> The Defamation of Strickland Banks and Ghostpoet's haunting Peanut Butter Blues & Melancholy Jam. But it doesn't tell the whole story.

Click here to listen to an accompanying playlist: Cheat Sheet: UK Hip-Hop 2011.

Tinie Tempah
Disc-Overy
For the U.S. version of his U.K. hit Disc-Overy, London rapper Tinie Tempah fashions himself as a hitmaker like B.o.B and Wiz Khalifa (the latter of whom guests on "Till I'm Gone"). He proves it with electro-tinged rockers like "Illusion" and progressive house anthems like "Miami 2 Ibiza." Save for the autobiographical "Let Go," most of his songs revolve around partying in the club and the hookups that follow. "Tic-toc, check my Rolie wristwatch/ F*ck how much a drink costs we about to kick off," he promises on "Simply Unstoppable." Disc-Overy is lightweight fun.

Plan B
The Defamation of Strickland Banks
Ben "Plan B" Drew pulls a 90-degree turn from his days as a grimy rapper that was "Sick 2 Def." On his U.K. hit The Defamation of Strickland Banks, he reinvents himself, singing with a creamy high falsetto over '60s-styled soul for this concept piece about a man falsely accused of rape. And when he raps about being thrown in prison and awaiting trial on "Welcome to Hell" and "The Recluse," it's clear he's using this concept to talk about greater societal problems as well as his own plight. It's rare to hear a retro-soul album ambitious enough to seek not only love, but also salvation from these "Hard Times," and Strickland Banks addresses the modern condition brilliantly.

Roots Manuva
4everevolution
After over a decade of groundbreaking releases like 2002's Run Come Save Me, Roots Manuva's blend of dancehall reggae, grime electronics and U.K. rap sounds as comfortable as a favorite pair of shoes. He keeps 4everevolution from getting stale with strong material, including "Here We Go Again," the Toddla T hit "Watch Me Dance," and "Who Goes There?" The album lasts nearly an hour, and Roots doesn't have enough quality songs for it all, but even on weaker tracks like "Skid Valley," he sustains himself with his unique vocal phrasings, social insights and deep lyricism.

Kode 9 & the Spaceape
Black Sun
Kode9 has long chafed under the dubstep straightjacket, at times even disowning a sound he helped create. On his latest collaboration with coproducer and dub poet the Spaceape, he finally breaks free of style classifications by building songs that blur between U.K. garage and bass and Spaceape's spoken words. When Spaceape says, "I'm neither wrong or right/ Neither black or white" on "Am I," he voices Black Sun's desire to reach past fixed expectations into pure music and theory. The final track, "Kryon," has no words or beats, just a wave of computerized noise that feels exultant.

Ghostpoet
Peanut Butter Blues & Melancholy Jam
Ghostpoet's enigmatic debut has as much in common with dubstep pianist James Blake as with introspective vocalists like Tricky and Roots Manuva. The Mercury Prize finalist conjures a moody kitchen-sink atmosphere on "Longing for the Night (Yeah Pause)," where he talks about days without purpose, and "Us Against Whatever Ever," which describes love as weary resignation. Peanut Butter Blues & Melancholy Jam is dark and romantic music, and aimlessness seems to be the unintended result. "Life is too long to make no plans," he sings on "Liiines," which could be heard as a cry for help.

Wiley
100% Publishing
As peers like Dizzee Rascal find pop success, Wiley has earned a reputation as the one who should have blown up … but didn't. It's a refrain throughout 100% Publishing, from the title track ("I know some don't care about the grime scene, but I'm gonna until I die") to "To Be Continued" ("'Cause my work ain't over"). Yet he doesn't sound bitter, but determined to reach new heights, even if his music has little chance of "reaching overseas." Tracks like "Numbers in Action" and "Boom Boom Da Na" exhibit the devil-may-care attitude of a U.K. rap pioneer who hasn't received his due.

The Streets
Computers & Blurbs
Mike Skinner claims that Computers & Blues will be his last album as The Streets. Ten years ago, the hype that greeted his stories on modern-day British youth seemed in stark contrast to his self-conscious modesty. But now that the Mercury Prize nomination has dissipated, it's easier to enjoy these poppy takes on U.K. garage and how modern technology has changed everyday life, from the fractured romance of "Blip on a Screen" to the Internet withdrawal of "Puzzled by People." Skinner should continue to push things forward, but that's hard to do when people aren't listening anymore.

Dels
Gob
With production from Kwes and Hot Chip's Joe Goddard (who also sings backup on "Trumpalump"), Dels' Gob is a minefield of whirring 8-bit melodies and slumping bass. But the U.K. emcee is more than capable of riding these beats. He not only evokes the sensation of rhyming on "Shapeshift," but also remembers working a minimum-wage job, "manager's in my face when he shouts and sprays," on "Hydronenburg." Much like U.K. rappers like Roots Manuva (who also appears on "Capsize"), Dels is a bit of a depressive, but at least he's fighting for his life, and making ecstatic music in the process.

Also check out:
Lowkey: Soundtrack to the Struggle ...
Paul White: Rapping with Paul White
Chase & Status: No More Idols

Cam'ron, Purple Haze

2011-10-27T11:00:00Z

Purple Haze takes the gangsta mindset to its hyper-masculine logical conclusion, inadvertently uprooting any connection the music may have to reality and placing it squarely in the realm of ghetto fantasy. Crack anthems such as "More Gangsta Music" and "The Dope Man" can't -- and shouldn't be -- taken too seriously, which makes them comfort food for laptop hustlas. [Sam Chennault]

Hear It Now!

On The Record: Yelawolf Talks Group Home

2011-10-26T21:56:24Z

On the Record is a video series wherein rock stars gush about their favorite records -- for exactly 45 seconds. Click above to watch Yelawolf give it up for Group Home.

Yelawolf
Hard White

Group Home
Livin' Proof

Hip-Hop Roundup, October 2011

2011-10-19T17:09:49Z

This year's major-label rap seems to lack ambition. From potentially groundbreaking Internet stars forced into awkward compromises (J Cole and Big Sean) and classic mixtapes gutted and truncated for retail release (Big K.R.I.T.'s R4 the Prequel) to imitations of past glories (see Jay-Z and Kanye West), the 2011 slate has been underwhelming so far. Perhaps that's why I've spent more time listening to indie rap records — or at least what's nominally considered "indie" — and mixtapes. They may not necessarily be better, but at least they don't have the burden of living up to marketing hype.

Next month brings more contenders for Album of the Year, including Yelawolf's Radioactive and Drake's Take Care. Here's this month's slate. October 2011 Rap Albums Sampler

1. J Cole
Cole World: The Sideline Story
It's clear what Jay-Z heard in J Cole's mixtapes: the North Carolina rapper has a magnetic voice that draws you to his stories. The difference is that he isn't a hitmaker, at least not yet. Cole produced most of the music on Cole World: The Sideline Story, preferring nondescript beats that focus attention on his lyrics. It makes for an album that's more than the sum of its parts, with few standouts but plenty of solid tracks about abortion ("Lost Ones") and negligent fathers (the No I.D.-produced "Never Told"). Don't miss "In the Morning," in which he trades freaky tales with Drake, or the more hook-friendly single "Can't Get Enough." [Mosi Reeves]

]]> 2. DJ Shadow
The Less You Know, The Better
On The Less You Know, The Better, DJ Shadow hints at deep and profound feelings. He opens with "Stay the Course," an uncharacteristically optimistic backpack rap featuring Lateef, Posdnuos and Talib Kweli; dips into the blues on "Sad and Lonely"; and samples the screams of a scorned lover on "Give Me Back the Nights." On "Circular Logic," a voice asks, "Who are you?" Many of these songs aren't strong enough to keep us engaged in Shadow's soul-searching, but a handful, particularly Yukimi Nagano's searing vocals on "Scale It Back," lead to something more attractive than just the abyss. [M.R.]

3. Styles P
Master of Ceremonies
Styles P's Master of Ceremonies is an exercise in block hustling and paranoid thoughts. Once you get past a few would-be radio hits (Pharrell's "Don't Turn Away"), the Yonkers artist delivers some compelling raps. "I'm a Gee," "Ryde on Da Regular" and "Feelings Gone" expand on his gangsta persona and how "selling crack will have you running like a track meet." It's familiar to anyone who has heard Styles, but he makes it sound fresh here with help from D-Block collaborators Jadakiss and Sheek Louch, and guests like Rick Ross and Pharoahe Monch. [M.R.]

4. Murs
Love & Rockets Vol. 1: The Transformation
Ski Beatz's jam-style funk production turned Curren$y and Tabi Bonney into underground rap stars, but Murs is the first established artist he has collaborated with. As a West Coast indie rap icon with a decade-plus career, Murs brings a different edge, from name-dropping Antoni Gaudi on "International" to, surprisingly, writing about a closeted gay teen on the tragic "Animal Style." Love & Rockets Vol. 1: The Transformation features guest verses from underrated New Orleans rapper Dee-1 (on "Dream On"), but the focus is mostly on Murs' plainly told, deceptively simple stories. [M.R.]

5. Evidence
Cats & Dogs
Evidence has a plainspoken, meat-and-potatoes approach, and it often seems like his material succeeds in spite of it. Nevertheless, Cats & Dogs bangs. Production from the Alchemist (who raps alongside Ev as part of ad-hoc group the Stepbrothers on "James Hendrix"), DJ Premier ("The Epilogue" and "You") and Sid Roams give the album its retro-rap flavor, and Ev responds to the beats with rhymes about his life and career. "I throw raps to sea in a bottle to float/ Like a lost SOS that a novelist wrote," he raps imaginatively on "Falling Down." It's not genius, but it works. [M.R.]

6. Phonte
Charity Starts at Home
Phonte Coleman may have raised expectations for a transcendent solo debut after his acclaimed work singing with neo-soul group the Foreign Exchange. But on Charity Starts at Home, which marks his return to rap, he brings back the Little Brother formula, using the same producers as that defunct group (including a reunion with estranged collaborator 9th Wonder) for soulful yet well-worn hip-hop. A recurring theme about his women issues holds promise and leads to some of the album's best songs, including "Sendin' My Love" and "Who Loves You More." [M.R.]

7. Spank Rock
Everything Is Boring and Everyone Is a F---ing Liar
"Turn that weak sh*t off," MC Spank Rock growls on Everything Is Boring and Everyone Is a F---ing Liar. It's been five years since his debut album, and the B-More party rocker sounds angry and focused. He's still an unconventional rapper, but his flows have improved sharply, and he no longer floats off-beat. He also still makes killer booty bass like "Hot Potato" (which samples The Cocteau Twins' "Wax and Wane"), "Nasty" (with New Orleans bounce queen Big Freedia) and "Car Song" (with an audibly inspired Santigold). As he says, "Another night, another freaky situation." [M.R.]

8. The Knux
Eraser
The Knux's Eraser is all about the sound. Big, beefy drums and hard-charging guitars adorn tracks like "Run" and "Queen of the Cold," but the two Lindsey brothers maintain a boogie rhythm that keeps the album from diverging into rap-rock territory. Their rhymes about bad hos, good girlfriends and so forth are disposable, but one exception is "Dead World," an indictment of the global community's woeful affairs that has shades of Funkadelic in it. One wonders what The Knux could become if they focused on their lyrics as much as their beat, but for now, Eraser will more than do. [M.R.]

9. 9th Wonder
The Wonder Years
The Wonder Years collects mixed nuts from 9th Wonder's soundboard. He lathers his soulful hip-hop signature over tracks by industry friends like Erykah Badu and Raekwon, close collaborators like Murs and Phonte, and North Carolina homies like Khrysis and Rapsody. It's 16 tracks deep, but best enjoyed piecemeal, as 9th Wonder's staid production makes these songs blur together. However, he pushes himself on "Now I'm Being Cool," a retro-soul showcase for Mela Machinko, and Talib Kweli's "Never Stop Loving You"; if he had done it more often he would have worked true wonders. [M.R.]

10. Freestyle Fellowship
The Promise
The Promise marks Freestyle Fellowship's first album in a decade, and it's substantially better than 2001's Temptations. Producer J Sumbi seems energized, and key assists from Exile (the bhangra-flavored "Step 2 the Side") and Black Milk (the neo-soul groove "Candy") convincingly update the Fellowship's classic linguistics exercises. As for Aceyalone, Myka 9, P.E.A.C.E. and Jupiter, the indie-rap pioneers toss around moochers ("Gimme"), fatherhood ("Daddies"), alcoholism ("Introspective") and other topics with complex yet clearly spoken verses. They dive deep into word-association games, and challenge the listener to follow. [M.R.]

Gang Starr, Full Clip: A Decade of Gang Starr

2011-10-19T11:00:00Z

After 10 years and five exceptional albums, Guru and Premier hit off the fans with a quadruple-vinyl treat. Thirty-three tracks chronicle their ongoing legacy of top-quality Brooklyn hip-hop; Full Clip contains almost all of their singles, as well as a few choice remixes. "Mass Appeal," "Ex Girl To The Next Girl," and "DWYCK" are all included. Essential jams.

Hear It Now!

Rap Is Not Pop: From Mixtape to Majors

2011-10-18T17:02:28Z

The mixtape-to-majors trajectory, and the implicit challenges of converting underground acclaim into a sustainable career, has become part of the modern rap narrative. But it's not the only path. We've all seen how Drake, Kid Cudi and B.o.B rocketed from free downloads to hit albums like Thank Me Later, Man on the Moon: The End of Day, and The Adventures of Bobby Ray, respectively; we've also mocked Wale when he followed his widely acclaimed 2008 mixtape, the Seinfeld-inspired The Mixtape About Nothing, with a disappointing major-label debut, the following year's Attention Deficit. (He'll get another chance when Ambition drops next month.)

The inspiration for this roundup of 2011 mixtape artists is J Cole, the rapper/producer whose Cole World: The Sideline Story just sold nearly 300,000 copies in a week. The rest of the entries here chart a road sometimes marked by a major-label signing, though just as often it's with an independent. Yet these so-called "indies" are hardly industry outsiders: Mac Miller's management launched Wiz Khalifa, while Tyler, the Creator's team includes a former manager for Eminem. Even the concept of a "debut album" is questionable: the only real difference between Cole's largely self-produced Friday Night Lights and Cole World is that he released the former as a free download in December 2010. (I defined the term "debut album" as the first project originally intended for retail stores instead of the Internet.) Meanwhile, Big K.R.I.T.'s recent Return of 4va mixtape received the kind of press coverage reserved for official albums; unfortunately, he pushed his actual major-label debut back to 2012, so he's not included on this list.

In short, the rap game is just as confusing as ever. But mixtapes are a useful signifier for artists on the cusp of greatness — or at least those making quality music.

While reading, check out my playlist: From Mixtape to Majors

]]> Artist: J Cole
Breakthrough Mixtape: Friday Night Lights (2010)
Debut Album: Cole World: The Sideline Story
The Launch: As Wale will testify, the problem with making a memorable mixtape is that the resulting album, watered down by label compromises and halfhearted attempts at radio singles, often suffers by comparison. Cole World is hampered by these problems, as well as J Cole's muted and sometimes bland production. However, he preserved the most important element: the lyrical storytelling that drew audiences to him in the first place.

Artist: Tyler, the Creator
Breakthrough Mixtape: Bastard (2010)
Debut Album: Goblin
The Launch: Tyler's Goblin is a meandering journey into his id that's marked by shock tactics (rape, necrophilia, Hitler youth fantasies) and two brilliant singles, "Yonkers" and "Sandwitches." He hastily finished it to capitalize on peaking interest and controversy surrounding his crew, Odd Future Wolf Gang Kill Them All, which turned out to be a genius move: Goblin has sold 100,000 copies to date on independent label XL Recordings (albeit international major-indie).

Artist: Big Sean
Breakthrough Mixtape: Finally Famous, Vol. III (2010)
Debut Album: Finally Famous
The Launch: Big Sean is more concerned about rhyming techniques and wordplay than themes and concepts. His blog-rap audience loved his freestyles on the Finally Famous mixtape series, but turned against him when his label debut offered more of the same, albeit with better production and starry features from Chris Brown and Kanye West. This reaction seems hypocritical, but since he's already nabbed two Top 40 singles, Sean probably doesn't care.

Artist: Kendrick Lamar
Breakthrough Mixtape: Overly Dedicated (2010)
Debut Album: Section.80
The Launch: Kendrick Lamar is the rare artist that commands equal respect from "conscious" rap fans and street/gangsta enthusiasts (see his appearance on The Game's The R.E.D. Album). Much of his appeal stems from his independent status — when people hear the rough diamond that is Section.80, they take pride in having discovered him without a label marketing campaign. Unlike the others, he hasn't weathered the kind of scrutiny that forces listeners to like or hate him based purely on his image, and regardless of his music.

Artist: Theophilus London
Breakthrough Mixtape: This Charming Mixtape (2009)
Debut Album: Timez Are Getting Weird These Days
The Launch: The jury is out on Theophilus London. Critics recoiled at Timez Are Getting Weird's bubbly electronic sound, but it wasn't made for them. Ever since This Charming Mixtape, wherein he rapped and crooned over glitch-hop beats from New York producer Machinedrum, London has appealed to an international pop aesthetic, giving more interviews to fashion blogs than hip-hop sites. Timez is fun if you set aside your preconceptions, but it lacks any memorable singles that would validate such an unusual career.

Artist: Das Racist
Breakthrough Mixtape: Shut Up, Dude (2010)
Debut Album: Relax
The Launch: Das Racist are the kind of group loved by progressive music critics and ignored by the majority of rap fans. On Relax, they offer funny and profound takes on life in a polyglot urban environment, with pop-culture detritus (see "Michael Jackson") and beats that sound noisy and experimental. Still, I can't help but wonder if Das Racist are built for the long haul or destined to fade into obscurity like so many New York hipster-rap fads (see Fannypack, Northern State, Princess Superstar, Plastic Little and so on).

Later this year:

Artist: Childish Gambino
Breakthrough Mixtape: Culdesac (2010)
Debut Album: Camp, due November 15

Artist: Yelawolf
Breakthrough Mixtape: Trunk Muzik, re-released as Trunk Muzik 0-60 (2010)
Debut Album: Radioactive, due November 21

Artist: Mac Miller
Breakthrough Mixtape: K.I.D.S. (Kicking Incredibly Dope Sh*t) (2010)
Debut Album: Blue Slide Park, due November 21

Mobb Deep, Murda Muzik

2011-10-08T11:00:00Z

The fourth album from Queensbridge representatives Havoc and Prodigy, Murda Muzik is a perfect follow-up to their East Coast thug-rap classics The Infamous and Hell on Earth. Grim samples and rugged beats back more bloodthirsty lyricism from the diabolical duo. Also features excellent guest spots from Nas, Cormega, and Kool G Rap. [Brolin Winning]

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Senior Year, 1998: Time 4 Skratch Practice

2011-10-04T17:03:52Z

A pair of Technics turntable decks will cost you around $800 — maybe cheaper if you can get them used (or if you opt for a lesser brand like Numark). A DJ mixer will set you back another $300. A copy of the Turntablist's Super Duck Breaks costs around $10, and you'll need two copies. But the ability to scratch like DJ Q-Bert? That would be priceless.

In 1998, there was real value to being a DJ who could scratch, mix and cut records. Crews like the Invisibl Skratch Piklz, The X-Men (who changed their name to X-ecutioners to avoid a Marvel Comics lawsuit), the World Famous Beat Junkies and the Bullet Proof Scratch Hamsters roamed the earth. Turntablism, a term coined by Beat Junkie DJ Babu, came into vogue as DJs attempted to create a furiously abstract style of music built around turntable exercises attempted during OM Records-sponsored Deep Concentration tours and SF-based Future Primitive Soundsessions. The mania spread from the compilation series Return of the DJ to the Beastie Boys (who adopted the Piklz' Mix Master Mike as a DJ and honorary "fourth Beastie" for 1998's multiplatinum Hello Nasty) to DJ Shadow's 1996 masterpiece Endtroducing to DJ Q-Bert's Wave Twisters, another '98 release billed as "the first all-skratching album."

But you can't talk about turntablism without noting all the teens at home scratching away on custom-made vinyl like Bionic Booger Breaks and Sqratch Fetishes of the Third Kind. These records usually included several two-minute sound loops (aka "breaks"), along with seconds-long sound snippets that you could cut back and forth, most famously the simple exclamation "Fressshh!" When they weren't practicing how to be a DJ, these young turntablists were studying old-school classics like Public Enemy's "Rebel Without a Pause" and Terminator X's infamous Transformer Scratch, or partying to "real hip-hop" anthems like Gang Starr's "You Know My Steez," Black Star's "Definition," and KRS-One's "Rapture's Delight." But did they listen to any Jay-Z, Puff Daddy or DMX? No way — that stuff was wack and too mainstream! It's funny how times change.

Click here to listen to my entire playlist, Senior Year, 1998: Time 4 Skratch Practice.

RJD2, Deadringer

2011-09-29T11:00:00Z

A critically acclaimed producer from Ohio, RJD2 concocts dramatic instrumental tracks by fusing layers of samples with random soundbites. Like DJ Shadow, his unusual style strikes a chord with listeners of all genres, not just hip-hop fans. Dead Ringer, his debut LP, was released by powerhouse indie label Def Jux (home to El-P, Mr. Lif, and Cannibal Ox). [Brolin Winning]

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Method Man, Tical

2011-09-24T11:00:21Z

Released in '94, this was the first in a very long line of Wu-Tang solo albums and side projects. Produced entirely by the RZA, it's a classic from start to finish, loaded with basement beats and raw-dog rhymes. Includes the timeless gems "Bring the Pain" and "Method Man," as well as the ill Raekwon collaboration "Meth vs. Chef." [Brolin Winning]

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Cheat Sheet: Concept Albums Of The 2000s

2011-09-16T17:41:06Z

With the arrival of Alice Cooper's new record, Welcome 2 My Nightmare -- a concept-album sequel to his 1975 classic Welcome to My Nightmare -- we got to thinking. It seemed like the whole idea of the concept album, a major facet of the rock era, with entries from damn near everybody -- The Beatles (Sgt. Pepper's), The Beach Boys, The Kinks, Floyd, Yes, Genesis, The Who -- had died a horrible, somewhat goofy, death. In my addled mind, I somehow got the idea that besides pretty much anything by Mastodon or R. Kelly (who both sang a cellphone conversation or hid in a closet), the concept album had gone the way of the dinosaur since Roger Waters' The Pros and Cons of Hitch Hiking came out in 1984. Boy, was I wrong.

Not only are there tons of concept albums still coming out, they're emerging from genres as far afield as progressive metal and hip-hop. Even better, the results are still often slightly crappy, a time-honored tradition of this '70s, uh, tradition. Let's face it, making a record with a unifying theme is not easy, and there are gonna be holes. Often musicians just get points for trying (in my book anyway). And I have to admit, I often like the crappy concept albums better than the "successful" ones. Below, you'll find a cross-section of some of the concept albums that came out in the past decade. As you can see, the art form is far from dying, and is just as suspect as ever.

Alice Cooper
Welcome 2 My Nightmare
While there's no escaping the fact that the most hardcore drug referenced on this sequel to the 1975 album is, uh, caffeine (track 2), at least former members of the Alice Cooper Band are playing the music. And even though there are both Auto-Tune vocals and rapping, there are moments when the group's '70s ferocity is recaptured, sort of. Their proclivities for cabaret music and Broadway dramatics are also touched on. To be fair, that rapping ("Disco Bloodbath Boogie Fever") is done as a joke, and Cooper's trademark sly humor is everywhere here. [Mike McGuirk]

]]> Green Day
American Idiot
Led by the killer title track, American Idiot finds Green Day sounding as vital as ever. Told through the character "Jesus of Suburbia," the concept album, released just prior to the 2004 presidential election, is nourished by the trio's vitriol over America's political climate and overall malaise. Rock-opera riffs complement instantly gratifying pop hooks that extend well beyond the band's punk roots. Even when they slow it down they still pack a punch. The album won a Grammy for Best Rock Album and reignited the band's flagging career, all while spreading its message far and wide. [Stephanie Benson]

The Devil Wears Prada
Zombie EP
Zombie has a heavier Slayer influence than past albums, five songs focused on faster speeds and, of course, zombies, zombies, zombies: songs about the coming zombie apocalypse, what zombies look like, being outnumbered by zombies, and surviving the aforementioned zombie apocalypse. Singer Mike Hranica got the idea while reading The Zombie Survival Guide by Max Brooks. Why it took so long for somebody to come up with such a perfect idea for a metal record is beyond us; we're just glad The Devil Wears Prada finally did. [M.M.]

Mastodon
Leviathan
Voted 2004's Album of the Year in Kerrang!, Terrorizer and Revolver magazines, Leviathan is a concept album based on Herman Melville's Moby Dick. The Atlanta prog-metal band's critically acclaimed combination of sludge-metal punch and Thin Lizzy-harmonized guitar leads made just about every metal fan in America say "UHG2BFKM!" when the album appeared and promptly began embarrassing everyone else in '04. Its only failing is that you can't actually toss harpoons at sperm whales while listening to "Seabeast." [M.M.]

Mastodon
Blood Mountain
One look at the artwork here and you can tell immediately that Blood Mountain is a concept album about the life-and-death struggle faced when one is lost in the wilderness, climbing a mountain at night and under the influence of some kind of transpersonal shamanistic sacred cacti. Right? Also, the album represents the elemental nature of the earth. Yeah, these guys are weirdos. You might want to avoid "Circle of Cysquatch" and "Bladecatcher" until that cactus has left your system. Or not. [M.M.]

Mastodon
Crack the Skye
While it may not be easy to figure out what the members of Mastodon are talking about -- tsarist Russia, Rasputin, astral travel, wormholes and Stephen Hawking are tied together -- the important thing is to be open to the ideas explored in Crack the Skye. It doesn't hurt that opener "Oblivion" is descended directly from Pink Floyd's Animals, and that half the time you think you're listening to Blue Oyster Cult. The genuinely far-out groove-jam "The Last Baron" brings everything together with an effortlessness only Mastodon can offer. [M.M.]

Jay-Z
American Gangster
"I used to give a f*ck / Now, I give a f*ck less," Jay-Z states on "Success," and here he's abandoned Kingdom Come's beach chair for a spot on a dirty street corner. The album is painted in washed-out grays and dark blues, drained of hooks and informed by the loss and soulful sway of soaring horns and rattling bongos. This is nostalgia as blood lust, gangster rap as social commentary, and Jay wears his politics on his sleeve throughout, aiming at Imus on "Ignorant Sh*t" and licking shots at Reagan on "Blue Magic." This is an excellent return to form. [Sam Chennault]

Drop Dead, Gorgeous
Worse Than a Fairytale
The third release from this barely legal Denver emo sextet is a concept album about a serial killer terrorizing a fictional town called Saylor Lake. When the album came out in 2007, fans were encouraged to figure out who the murderer is, with an almost unheard-of level of hype culminating in some interactive online contest. But Worse Than a Fairy Tale may not have needed all the hoopla. With seriously impressive guitars, dynamic, spittle-y vocals and frequent codas you'll sing along with, the songs, especially the opener, are far better than the usual "crappy guitars with wimps singing" favored by most Warped Tour faves. [M.M.]

Neil Young
Greendale
With Crazy Horse behind him and a fire underneath him, Neil Young has made a rolling epic to rival any of his triumphs. Greendale tells the saga of a family caught up in media hysterics and environmental woes. It's like Thornton Wilder's Our Town amid an expanse of cracked, rumbling guitar and folk music. [Jon Pruett]

My Chemical Romance
The Black Parade
For its ambition, The Black Parade echoes that other rock record of October 2006, The Killers' Sam's Town: brash guitars, brassy horns and Gerard Way's adenoidal yelp drive a concept album about a cancer victim's ghost (or something). Unlike their Vegas brethren, though, MCR don't switch up styles in an effort to squeeze a little gravitas out of their glossy rock. On this follow up to their 2004 breakout, they're slam-dancing with the vaguely gothic, amphetamine-laced sound that brung 'em. See if you don't do a spit-take when the titular single storms the ramparts toward the end. Epic and gutsy. [Garrett Kamps]

Deltron 3030
Deltron 3030
Behold a futuristic supergroup comprising Dan the Automator, Del, and Kid Koala. Hyperoriginal, the album's semi-apocalyptic production, advanced lyricism and exceptional DJ work combine to create an intergalactic vision somewhere between Blade Runner and 2001. Standouts include "Madness," "Positive Contact," and "Things You Can Do." [Brolin Winning]

The Mars Volta
De-Loused in the Comatorium
At the Drive-In members Cedric Bixler and Omar Rodriguez regroup with this experimental project, which combines the emocore of their past with 1970s psychedelia and a conceptual subtext about the death of their friend. Heavy. At times Mars Volta sound like Hendrix's "1983...A Merman I Should Turn To Be." At other times they sound as good as Trail of Dead. [M.M.]

Three 6 Mafia
Choices
Three 6 Mafia's soundtrack to the straight-to-DVD flick Choices offers the debauched Memphis gangster raps you've come to love (or hate). There are a few snippets from the movie, but they don't preview any major plot points. Meanwhile, the group engages in a battle of the sexes with La Chat on the hit "Baby Mama" and "2-Way Freak." It's the best aspect of a Hypnotize Minds showcase that has standout beats (check the crunk romp "We Shootin' 1st") and largely disposable raps, with T-Rock's grizzled vocals on "Slang & Serve" and "Wona Get Some, I Got Some" an exception. [Mosi Reeves]

The Roots, Phrenology

2011-09-16T11:00:27Z

Phrenology is the Roots' most ambitious work to date. The mercurial and epic "Water" is a tone-poem of sorts dealing with the drug addiction of departed member Malik B, while "Something in the Way of Things" features controversial poet Amiri Baraka. Though experimental, the CD also has pop nuggets such as "Break You Off" and "The Seed 2.0." [Sam Chennault]

Hear It Now!

Hip-Hop Roundup, September 2011

2011-09-13T16:36:13Z

This month's Hip-Hop Roundup brings a mixed bag of goodies, from the underground satires of Das Racist and Serengeti to the well-chronicled stadium rap of Lil Wayne and Jay-Z & Kanye West. There's not much common ground between Ace Hood and Theophilus London — one's a star on the mixtape circuit, while the other gets more name-drops on fashion blogs than rap forums. Hip-hop in 2011 encompasses so many contrasting and conflicting styles that it takes a wide palette to enjoy it all.

Click here to listen to my accompanying playlist: August 2011 Rap Albums Sampler

1. Das Racist
Relax
"The smart boys back with the dumb sound," raps Heems of Das Racist on "Selena." Actually, the sounds of Relax are pretty smart, too. The New York trio has made a quantum leap since their 2008 Internet novelty "Combination Pizza Hut and Taco Bell," and songs like "Shut Up, Man" (with El-P as a guest) and "Michael Jackson" have intricately satirical wordplay as well as dumb-hot hipster beats. As Das Racist celebrate White Castle burgers on "Rainbow in the Dark" and sing the dance-pop number "Girl" (or is it a parody?), it's difficult to tell if these guys take anything seriously. But that's probably the point.

]]> 2. The Cool Kids
When Fish Ride Bicycles
The Cool Kids stay in party mode on this excellent follow-up to 2008's The Bake Sale. The theme of When Fish Ride Bicycles is summertime, and guest Mayer Hawthorne wants to see you "in your swimsuit." But this is Chicago, too, so the duo encourages you to "Bundle Up" and bring a coat in case the weather gets cold. These songs sound deep and guttural like a "GMC" weighed down by woofers, but The Cool Kids don't come off as menacing. They don't want any mean girls ("Sour Apples") showing up, but this block party is open to anyone that can "Get Right."

3. Serengeti
Family & Friends
Chicago rapper Serengeti has spent the past decade issuing quirky character sketches, but his Anticon albums, including Family & Friends, are introducing him to a larger audience. Though he is not necessarily the inheritor of Anticon's indie rap tradition, his tales of moving to "California," dabbling in drugs ("A.R.P.") and imagining himself as the son of a deadbeat rap star ("Long Ears") have a shy poignancy reminiscent of Deep Puddle Dynamics and Themselves. Owen Ashworth of Casiotone for the Painfully Alone and Yoni Wolf of Why? produce indie-pop beats for this 30-minute delight.

4. Jay-Z & Kanye West
Watch the Throne
When superstars join forces, we expect blasts of energy that wow us. So if Kanye West and Jay-Z's Watch the Throne fails, it's from attempting to fulfill our contradictory expectations of pop carnality and artistic substance. Its best moments stick to the former, from the joyous old-school roundelay of "Otis," to the street-hop of "Welcome to the Jungle." But Jay is determined to turn Throne into the scepter of the hip-hop diaspora. "I tried to teach n*ggas how to be kings," he says on "Why I Love You." Unfortunately, as Langston Hughes once wrote, life ain't no crystal stair.

5. Ace Hood
Blood, Sweat & Tears
Ace Hood's third album pivots on his recent hit "Hustle Hard" and its theme of Dirty South thugs on the grind. He tells us his woes on "Lord Knows" and "Bitter World," from facing eviction to raising enough money to support a pair of twins. "Bills due/ Money runnin' low/ Plus my cousin lost her mind and had an overdose," he rues on "Go N' Get It." Although he recounts his problems repeatedly — he talks about his mother losing her home in several songs — it makes for compelling music. His party cuts, especially a predictable Chris Brown hook on "Body 2 Body," sound comparatively bland.

6. The Game
The R.E.D. Album
Hate Jayceon Taylor for his idiotic Twitter fails, but dude knows how to make a banging gangsta rap album. The R.E.D. Album is packed with guest spots from Lil Wayne, Rick Ross, Young Jeezy and other headliners, while The Game writes rhymes like "The Good, the Bad, the Ugly," where he imagines himself in an interrogation room after a murder, and the anti-domestic violence "Good Girls Go Bad." Some of the cameos are disposable — Drake and Tyler, the Creator's spots sound particularly weak — but overall the Game and his fans gets their money's worth.

7. Royce Da 5'9"
Success Is Certain
Royce's rise from loser to comeback artist of 2011 underlines Success Is Certain. He crows about it while mulling over mistakes most fans know from gossip blogs and the Beef III DVD. So much of his life is tied to his decade-long quest for stardom that every track sounds anguished. It's almost a relief when he shifts focus from himself to the tragic murder of Detroit rap pioneer Proof on "Security," though the song ends with Royce going to the funeral, crying like a baby and "wishing I could go up to Marshall." Royce's success may be certain, but the sting of past rejection lingers.

8. Roach Gigz
B*tch, I'm a Player
Roach Gigz portrayed himself as a carefree Oaktown player on his popular Roachy Balboa mixtapes, but he gets serious on B*tch, I'm a Player. "Wild Child," "Lost" and "Drugs" show his content runs deeper than macking, though he does plenty of that, too (check "Gina" for proof). Roach has a slangy flow typical of Bay Area rappers, and producer C-loz adds bass drops and vocal edits (especially on "F A Chorus") that make Roach sound surreal. You get the sense that this is more than a game for him, although he admits on "Headache," "All I really need is some p*ssy and a fat plate."

9. Lil Wayne
Tha Carter IV
On The Carter IV, Lil Wayne dives into a series of game-spitting roundelays in "President Carter," "Abortion" and "It's Good" (and takes a jab at Jay-Z on the latter). Weezy doesn't have Kanye West's artistry or Jay's fear of failure, so his performances lack depth, if not necessarily resonance. However, unlike Tha Carter III and its earnest Hurricane Katrina homage, he realizes now that he's best at talking trash, not making concept albums. His one sensitive moment comes when he tries to teach a teenage fan "How to Love," but it sounds paternalistic, if well-intended.

10. Theophilus London
Timez Are Weird These Days
Theophilus London has come a long way since his mixtape work with glitch-hop producer Machinedrum. On his major debut, Timez Are Weird These Days, the New York rapper/vocalist recruits Sara Quin of Tegan and Sara for backing vocals on "Why Even Try," while TV on the Radio's David Andrew Sitek, among others, contributes production. London adopts a vocal tone eerily similar to that of Kid Cudi for most of this excursion into hip, fashionable neo-wave and '80s-inflected spotlights such as "Love Is Real," "Stop It" and "Last Name London."

11. Ski Beatz
24 Hour Karate School II
Ski Beatz' second volume of 24 Hour Karate School (third if you count the Japanese edition) gathers more indie rappers for target practice. Only a few hit their mark, including Stat Quo (who bluffs his way through "Amnesia") and Tabi Bonney (who flosses hard on "Frontin'"). But they're just window-dressing for Ski's evolution from beat maker to bandleader. He creates a series of rippling funk grooves highlighted by live instrumentalists, blaring horns and electric guitars. The likes of L.E.P. Bogus Boys and their lame raps can't ruin "Looking for Me" and Ski's martial sound.

September 11, 2001 Scrapbook

2011-09-07T17:04:36Z

We all reacted to the horrible events of September 11, 2001, in our own ways — wherever we were, whatever we were doing, whichever CD or radio station or fizzy pop single we first reached for to help us cope. Here, Rhapsody's editors offer their own musical perspectives, from saber-rattling country to hopeful worship music, from pop-punk bromides to plaintive protest songs, from the momentary tentativeness of comedy to the fieriness of hip-hop to the transcendence of jazz. As Sonny Rollins put it, "Maybe music can help. I don't know, but we have to try something." Here's what we tried.

Sifting Through the Ashes in New York City

I was in Park Slope, Brooklyn, that morning, about to board the subway for work in Lower Manhattan, when my roommate told me I should turn the TV on. After the second plane hit, I went up to the roof of our apartment building and watched the smoke. Cars were dusted with ashes as far south as where I lived. I spent the day switching between staring at TV news and trying to drown out the hell in my head (and the fear that the Army might call me back up) with desolate ambient doomsday metal: Neurosis, My Dying Bride, Amorphis droning about mushroom clouds.

]]> Village Voice, where I worked as music editor and within days would put together a special section devoted to the attacks. Lower Manhattan looked like a ghost town.

Over the next few months, I sorted through more than a thousand submissions of 9/11-inspired songs and chose 18 to appear on a Voice album I curated to benefit World Trade Center victims. Artists participating: Moby ("Memory Gospel"), Cornershop, The Mekons, Joseph Arthur, future Tea Partier Moe Tucker ("Fired Up"), Andrew W.K. ("I Love NYC"), Afrikaa Bambaataa, ex-Slit Ari Upp, Sheila Chandra, Hakim, Gogol Bordello ("Baro Foro"), Uri Caine, Loudon Wainwright III, Peter Stampfel's Du-Tels, Atmosphere, Baaba Maal, Matthew Shipp, and Lenny Dee (with his noise-techno DJ Skinhead collaboration "Extreme Terror"). The range of that music — crossing styles and continents, with particular attention paid to the Middle East — was intentional. But it did not make the coming decade any less divisive. — Chuck Eddy

Alan Jackson and the Ultimate Post-9/11 Anthem

On November 7, 2001 — less than two months after the September 11 attacks — Alan Jackson performed a brand-new song at the CMA Awards. He quickly moved the audience to tears, and "Where Were You (When the World Stopped Turning") soon became the quintessential post-9/11 song for many.

Jackson later explained that he wanted to write a song that wasn't vengeful or patriotic, but simply encapsulated how he felt on that day. He obviously hit the emotional nail on the head, as "Where Were You" went on to top both the country and pop charts. Many artists wrote post-9/11 songs immediately after the attacks, but very few bothered after Jackson weighed in. As Lon Helton, country editor of the now-defunct trade publication Radio & Records, put it, "Alan Jackson's song stopped about 150 guys in their tracks. They heard it and just put down their pens."

Traditionally, country music goes hand-in-hand with conservative patriotism and tales of war. Perhaps that's because, as Josh Thompson writes of his country brethren in the song "Way Out Here," "We got a fightin' side a mile wide but we pray for peace/ 'Cause it's mostly us that end up serving overseas." In any case, Jackson's wasn't the only song to reverberate. Check out our playlist of post-9/11 country songs, and patriotic songs that took on new significance in a post-9/11 world. — Linda Ryan

Playlist: Country's Best Post 9/11 and Patriotic Songs

Retail Therapy: Jay-Z, Nickelback and 9/11's Other New Releases

Slayer put out an album called God Hates Us All on September 11, 2001. You couldn't make this stuff up. But the album that ends with the triptych of "War Zone," "Here Comes the Pain" and "Payback" was hardly that day's most notable release.

For excellence, head straight for Jay-Z's The Blueprint, arguably his crowning achievement and a critical/commercial juggernaut so massive he's made two (inferior) sequels. For notoriety, it's gotta be Mariah Carey's Glitter soundtrack, a titanic debacle that once threatened to ruin her career. And then there's Bob Dylan, who loosed the critically adored Love and Theft upon the world that morning, full of apocalyptic imagery that made him look eerily prophetic: "What did Dylan know and when did he know it?" wondered Greg Tate in the Village Voice.

Elsewhere, you had au courant nu-metalheads P.O.D. offering Satellite, and the major-label debut from a modest little Canadian dude-rock outfit called Nickelback: Silver Side Up is home to "How You Remind Me," maybe the No. 1 song to blare at the gym while newly patriotic bros upped their bench-press reps and imagined taking on the Taliban themselves. If you found all that a little ridiculous, so did Ben Folds, whose wry solo debut, Rockin' the Suburbs, lampooned the mooks incessantly.

Of course the single most famous record affected by the events of 9/11 was actually The Coup's Party Music, a politically incendiary party-rap classic that wasn't due out for a month but caused a stir in the aftermath anyway: the (quickly changed) cover image depicted members Boots Riley and Pam the Funkstress blowing up the World Trade Center. Prog-metal giants Dream Theater encountered a similar problem: their Live Scenes from New York was out that day, with a cover featuring a flaming apple topped by the Twin Towers. (That version is now a collector's item.)

Personally, diving back into all of this, the September 11, 2001, record that strikes me as most poignant now is probably the least ominous-feeling: They Might Be Giants' Mink Car, a minor entry in the relentlessly clever Brooklyn duo's catalog, but listening now to the simultaneously goofy and melancholy dance pop anthem "Man, It's So Loud in Here" is oddly affecting. A few months later, I went to a T.M.B.G. show in Columbus, Ohio, that was interrupted by a full power outage; in the hour-long wait until a backup generator arrived, they did a few songs unplugged, after cofounder John Flansburgh shushed the restless crowd by noting, "We come from a place that's dealing with far worse problems than this one." — Rob Harvilla

Top of the Charts: The Biggest Songs That Week

It's a somewhat macabre business, musically re-creating 9/11 with a playlist of the top songs on the charts that week. After all, none of us wants to relive that tragedy — or, worse, to pickle and preserve it into some kind of musical commemorative plate that's cut off from the real-life pain and loss that our country experienced that day. But in another sense, looking back at the music of the week of September 11 is more like creating and then unearthing a time capsule, an aural document not only of a formative moment in American history, but also of American culture at that time. So what can we learn about ourselves from the top songs the week of September 11, 2001? Well, even as the United States went through one of the most traumatic experiences in its history, we still found inspiration to think about love; to dance to the diverse sounds (from hip-hop to country) that make up the palette of American pop; and to be joyful, with a little help from fellow Americans like Jennifer Lopez, Alicia Keys, Usher, Missy Elliott, Sugar Ray and more. — Rachel Devitt

Playlist: A Musical Snapshot of September 11, 2001: The Songs on the Charts

The Statue of Liberty Shakes Her Fist, and a Country Goes to War

From the day Al-Qaeda hit its targets, I imagined Brooks & Dunn's hard-rocking patriotic country hit from that summer, "Only in America" — out three months at that point, and one of my favorite 2001 singles — becoming an exceptionalist anthem; in the next half-decade, it would be used by both Republicans and Democrats in presidential campaigns, and by Oliver Stone in his World Trade Center movie. But it's still not the country song that people most associate with 9/11.

That would, of course, be Toby Keith's "Courtesy of the Red White and Blue (The Angry American)," which would come out in May 2002 and go on to top the country charts. It was impossibly rousing (I've sung it, badly, in karaoke myself); impossibly ridiculous in its violent imagery ("the Statue of Liberty started shaking her fist," then "we put a boot in your ass, it's the American way"); and impossibly offensive in its jingoist propagandizing if you wanted it to be But it was — like it or not — a song that had to be sung, because all wars of magnitude need war songs of similar magnitude, and who better to sing it than probably the greatest male singer of the 21st century's first decade?

Keith — a self-proclaimed conservative Democrat who has claimed he never supported our preemptive adventure in Iraq — initially played it only for troops, the story goes, but eventually put it out after a Marine Corps Commandant told him it was his duty to inspire the men and women in uniform. In some ways, it was undoubtedly pure opportunism: though he later named a 2003 album Shock'n Y'all, and though he has recorded a handful of red-state editorials since, they really aren't Keith's main stock in trade, or even what he's best at.

As warmongering country goes, "Courtesy" wasn't alone: Darryl Worley's 2003 No. 1 hit "Have You Forgotten?" deceitfully pretended Iraq was responsible for September 11; Hank Williams Jr.'s 2002 "America Will Survive" updated his three-decade-old urbanite-baiting anthem "A Country Boy Can Survive" for current-event consumption; and Montgomery Gentry and Trace Adkins both fought their own good fights. But "Courtesy of the Red White and Blue" is the one that defined its time, for all time — and, ultimately, defined its artist. Toby Keith will never live it down. But there's a lot the rest of us will never live down, too. — C.E.

The Dixie Chicks and the Perils of Post-9/11 Political Controversy

Not since Chicago's infamous 1979 Disco Demolition Night has there been such a vociferous backlash to a body of music. Back then, it was an entire genre. In 2003, the target was more precise: the Dixie Chicks.

There are numerous examples of entertainers suffering the consequences of their outspoken opposition to America's post-September 11 actions and policies, but none compare to what happened here. While the Texas-based country trio was on tour in England, singer Natalie Maines famously declared that the band was "ashamed the President of the United States is from Texas," setting off a firestorm of controversy that still resonates more than eight years later. In fact, the band's saga so thoroughly saturated pop culture that it resulted in a famous Entertainment Weekly cover, a full-length documentary (Shut Up and Sing), and the phrases "Dixie Chicking" and "Dixie Chicked" permanently joining the vernacular.

The trio, once music's top-grossing "girl group" thanks to No. 1 albums like 1999's Fly and 2002's Home, was subsequently blacklisted from most country radio playlists. More conservative — or patriotic, depending on your politics — pundits actively encouraged Dixie Chicks CD-burning parties. Ticket sales in many concert markets plummeted, and the group received death threats.

In 2007, the Chicks swept the Grammy Awards with their album Taking the Long Way, taking home statues for Album of the Year, Song of the Year, Record of the Year and, oddly, Country Album of the Year. Despite this, they haven't made a new album since, and neither Natalie Maine's solo single (a cover of The Beach Boys' "God Only Knows") nor Emily Robison and Martie Maguire's offshoot band Court Yard Hounds has gained any real traction. No band's trajectory was more drastically affected by the cultural climate after September 11. — L.R.

Playlist: The Dixie Chicks Best Of

Rap Struggles to Respond

It may be unfair to single out rap artists for their response to the tragic events of September 11. Artists in every discipline, from music to movies to literature and visual art, have struggled to express themselves in this defining moment. But in a genre that prizes topicality and ghetto realism, whether it's a carefully edited documentary or an exaggerated form of musical verité, the halting way rappers chose to address the World Trade Center attacks is particularly glaring. In the immediate aftermath of the attacks, there was mostly silence. The rapid-reaction MP3 infrastructure that swirls around any major event today didn't truly exist yet, so most of the late-2001 release slate didn't mention it, including Jay-Z's The Blueprint (famously released on September 11) and Dilated Peoples' Expansion Team. However, contemporaneous work took on new significance, including Cannibal Ox's diary of New York squalor The Cold Vein, Trick Daddy's condemnatory "Amerika," and DMX's street-revolutionary anthem "Who We Be." Advance artwork for The Coup's Party Music featured Boots Riley and Pam the Funkstress blowing up the Twin Towers with a radio tuner, but it was quickly replaced after the attacks and before the album's November 6 release.

The lone exception to this disquiet was Sage Francis' "Makeshift Patriot." Recorded and released several weeks after the attacks as a free MP3, it has a reportorial perspective as he compares the terrorist-manned planes to Trojan horses and recounts how "the fallout was far beyond the toxic clouds where people were like debris."

By the end of the year, stray references to September 11 began to appear. "Who the f*ck knocked our buildings down?/ Who behind the World Trade massacre? Step up now," rapped a newly patriotic Ghostface Killah on Wu-Tang Clan's "Rules." On his anti-war song "Rule," Nas took a more expansive view, rapping, "Lost lives in the towers and Pentagon, why then/ Must it go on/ We must stop the killing."

This approach prevailed during the next few years, as September 11 became a throwaway metaphor for urban blight and American resilience. "This that 9/11 music right here, man," bragged Jim Jones on "Ground Zero" from The Diplomats' Diplomatic Immunity. (Ironically, The Diplomats also called themselves The Taliban.) On "A Ballad for the Fallen Soldier," Jay-Z compared a street hustler's life to someone serving in the armed forces. "They're both at war," he observed. "Off to boot camp, they're both facing terror/ Bin Laden been happenin' in Manhattan."

While music about September 11 has mostly disappointed, the subsequent War on Terror — along with the Iraq and Afghanistan wars — inspired a wave of memorable critiques against President Bush. "Bin Laden didn't blow up the projects/ It was you, n*gga/ Tell the truth, n*gga," chants Mos Def on Immortal Technique's "Bin Laden," which — along with Jadakiss' "Why" and Mr. Lif's "Home of the Brave" — advanced the conspiracy theory that the Bush administration orchestrated the September 11 attacks as a Faustian global power grab.

Meanwhile, September 11 as an event unto itself has largely gone unanalyzed. Perhaps hip-hop artists are more comfortable with using the U.S. government as a stock villain for all the hardship that has befallen us since that day, from never-ending wars to economic catastrophe, than imagining the complex forces that irrevocably changed 21st-century American life. — Mosi Reeves

Playlist: Hip-Hop Artists Respond To 9-11

American Idiots: Punks Find Politics

In 1994, Billie Joe Armstrong slashed at a thrift-store sofa and sang about masturbation's fabled affect on one's retinas. It may have seemed dim and silly to some, but it gave the older folks, worried they were raising a generation of slackers, a reason to fear punk again. Green Day went on to release a handful of semi-successful albums, but it seemed Dookie would forever be their creative crest. Then September 11 happened. And a decade following their breakout album, Green Day rediscovered their role as a punk band — because a new generation needed it. A rock opera that resulted in both Grammy love and a Broadway musical, American Idiot may not have sounded like the stoned-out anarchist thrash the Berkeley band started with, but it was every bit as punk in its intent.

The album, Green Day's seventh, came out three years and 10 days after September 11, and one month and 12 days before the 2004 presidential election. The timing was not arbitrary. Told through the Average Joe "Jesus of Suburbia," American Idiot didn't speak directly to the events of September 11, but instead embodied America's sociopolitical climate and overall malaise in the tragedy's aftermath. Its emotions hit every stage of grief — from denial to anger to depression — all while a love story unfolds. It's not a commentary on terrorists, President Bush or weapons of mass destruction. It's about the trickle-down effect of all of that — what the majority of us battle with and question daily. Love, in our seemingly insignificant lives, is hard enough to define and find in peacetime, so how does the "information nation of hysteria" deal with it in a time of war and an "age of paranoia"? — Stephanie Benson

A New Era of Protest Songs

In the days after September 11, 2001, Americans did what they do best: rallied together to support our fellow citizens and started the hard work necessary to pick up the pieces after the tragic events of that day. But in the weeks and months that followed, as the government unveiled its own response, people also began tapping into another important American legacy: dissent. Musicians were no different. As President Bush engaged the country in a multinational war that many felt was wrongheaded, artists from Nas to the Dixie Chicks, Pink to Pearl Jam began penning songs criticizing the government.

The history of American popular music is also, in many ways, a history of protest song and musical resistance. Sometimes that resistance has been to cultural mores, like the sexual taboos challenged by classic blues artists and early rock 'n' rollers. In other eras, music has served as a critical voice of protest against social inequality, like the songs of the 1960s Civil Rights Movement that helped to dismantle racist policies and attitudes. And at other times, music has helped to shape a movement that rises up to critique the government and affect change, like the anti-war repertoire of the 1960s and '70s. The post-September 11 protest-song movement didn't ever reach the cohesive magnitude of the Vietnam era, in part because the country was so divided about which direction we should take. But the songs in this playlist nonetheless helped to remind pop music of its activist roots and keep alive the politics of dissent. — R.D.

Playlist: A New Era of Protest Songs

Gilbert Gottfried Helps Us Laugh Again

Comedians the world over are trained to find the humor in humanity's darkest moments, but after September 11, even the raunchiest, raciest and most irascible of them found themselves at a loss for words. "Too soon!" became a meme all its own, with jokers across the country being scolded for even attempting to take up the subject. Perhaps most notably, there was Gilbert Gottfried, who performed in New York City at a Friar's Club Roast of Hugh Hefner just three weeks after the tragedy.

After nearly getting booed off the stage for a joke mentioning air travel and the Empire State Building, Gottfried launched into his own improvised version of the now-famous bit "The Aristocrats," immortalized in the movie of the same name. Gottfried's version of the joke achieves new heights of vulgarity, which is saying something. In the apoplectic procession of foulness that spews forth (we're not even going to try to quote it), not to mention the uproarious laughs that follow it, one hears a definite catharsis. Comedians are never considered heroes — it goes against their very nature — but on this one particular night, for an audience that hadn't laughed in weeks, Gottfried saved the day. — Garrett Kamps

Christian Music Stars Soothe, and Grieve

The reverberations of September 11 were felt throughout Christian music, with shows canceled, artists stranded out on the road and everyone left asking each other, "What now?"

Even on a day when every detail seemed momentous, a few stories stood out. First was the fact that Michael W. Smith's Worship album came out that very day, a coincidence that would seem God-ordained in retrospect. The music would prove to be a spiritual balm for an emotionally raw nation: while it certainly would've been a hit regardless, the grim circumstances surely helped the record go double-platinum.

Then there's the horrifying tale of singer Tammy Trent. The terrorist attacks and subsequent grounding of all flights left her stuck in Jamaica, where her husband, Trent Lenderink, an experienced diver, had drowned on September 10 — authorities were still searching the water for him that morning. Trent's family had made arrangements to join her in Jamaica, but of course their flights were cancelled. The experience of being alone and grieving in a foreign country as her home was under attack continues to color the music she makes today. Even her name harkens back to her late husband: when the high school sweethearts married, they agreed that her new last name of Lenderink didn't roll off the tongue, so she took her husband's first name as her stage surname, never realizing it would one day serve as a reminder of him and his continuing role in her career. — Wendy Lee Nentwig

Sonny Rollins, Helping the Show Go On

Try to imagine what he looked like, 71 years old at the time, grey-haired and disheveled, likely taken away from coffee or oatmeal or whatever a saxophone colossus has for breakfast. You gotta think that Sonny Rollins, whose Tribeca apartment was a few blocks away from the World Trade Center, was probably just as scared as everyone else. But here's the thing: when the television cameras caught him that morning, it wasn't startling to see his surgical mask or his slouching posture as he boarded the evacuation bus; it was the fact that he had the presence of mind to grab his horn.

Five days later in Boston, in one of those examples of how the clichéd "show-must-go-on" gene lives in the DNA of all performers of his longevity, Rollins recorded his first live record in 18 years, Without a Song: The 9/11 Concert. Released years later, it won a Grammy for Best Instrumental Solo in 2006.

Which solo? A tune whose title seemed particularly poignant considering the circumstances: "Why Was I Born?" Rollins wails out an intro by himself in skittish, fragmented bits and pieces, halting and too muscular to be comfortable, in the million-things-at-once gale on which he's built a career. It's the kind of moment that Stanley Crouch speaks of in Rollins' New Yorker profile, saying, "If jazz improvisation is a kind of democratic expression, then Rollins may well be our greatest purveyor of utopian feeling."

Is Without a Song utopian? Hardly. It has a few familiar pitfalls of late-career Rollins — some banal Calypso grooves, an ensemble that includes some downright lame conga solos — but the circumstances of the record make it a document of a great musician wrestling to exist under baffling circumstances. "Maybe music can help," he grumbles after introducing the band halfway through the set. "I don't know, but we have to try something." And by trying, he achieved something colossal. — Nate Cavalieri

Freestyle Fellowship, To Whom It May Concern

2011-09-07T15:26:09Z

A hugely influential crew out of L.A., Freestyle Fellowship serve up lyrically complex yet playful jams, similar to acts like the Pharcyde and Hieroglyphics. This debut album, originally released in 1991, is easily their best work, with standouts like "Sunshine Men" and "Legal Alien." —Brolin Winning

Hear It Now!

MC Hammer, Please Hammer Don't Hurt 'Em

2011-09-05T11:00:13Z

Though he had some earlier singles, this was the record that really established Hammer as a megaplatinum, arena-filling superstar. Danceable beats and G-rated rhymes won him millions of fans mesmerized by the chart-topping hits "U Can't Touch This" and "Pray." Although his fame and fortune would eventually dwindle, this LP finds Hammer at the top of his game. —Rhapsody

Hear It Now!

Ludacris, Word of Mouf

2011-09-03T11:00:48Z

A master of the punchline with a knack for making huge hits, Ludacris' sophomore record is full of the same bugged humor and catchy production that made his debut so hot. Timbaland, Swizz Beats, and Organized Noize provide ear-tickling beats galore, while Luda continues to wreck mics. Includes the hit singles "Area Codes" and "Rollout." —Brolin Winning

Hear It Now!

Friday Mixtape: Dear Diary

2011-09-02T17:01:07Z

In case you were wondering, yes, I was one of those people who would spend months perfecting a mixtape, design a collage of artwork for it, and then shyly hand over the cassette tape to some crush I mooned over in hopes that she would get my special "message." Don't front like you didn't do that, too.

Sometimes, though, I would simply create a mix that described my thoughts and feelings on life in general. It was akin to writing in a journal, though easier than confronting my thoughts nakedly transcribed on a piece of paper — the music allowed me to hide behind the sounds of others who could voice things that I could not or would not say. I worked on these 90-minute mixes — 45 to 50 minutes for each cassette side — by recording songs from a turntable, erasing and retaping them, and hoping the tape wouldn't break. (Yep, I used to make tape loops, too.) When I finished them, I not only gave the tapes to would-be lovers, but friends, too, just to let them know what was going on in my head.

The era of the cassette tape is long gone (though it's making a tentative comeback in indie circles; earlier this month, I copped new tapes by both MF Doom & Ghostface Killah, and Death Grips). So now I program songs in iTunes and Rhapsody, trying out different combinations, and hearing which fit together sonically and thematically. It's a less physical act than cuing up and manipulating a cassette tape, but the goals are the same.

As I said before, I often spend months on a tape. Due to time constraints, I knocked this one out in a few hours, so it's not my ideal mix. But its range of artists, from The Emotions to The Throne to Zomby to The Cure to Little Dragon, will give you a brief peek into where I am right at this moment.

Click here to listen to my playlist: Friday Mixtape: Mixtape Diary

Rock the Bells Recap: Lauryn Hill, Nas and More Light Up the Bay Area

2011-08-31T17:01:21Z

Click here for a playlist of the biggest songs at this year's Rock the Bells festival.

The live summer blockbuster Rock the Bells has lasted nearly 10 years by catering to the notion that "classic" and indie rap acts keep the flame of real hip-hop alive. It's clearly a fantasy, but the fault lines remain — Southern rapper David Banner left the 2007 tour after the audience greeted him with boos on a few dates. For better or worse, it's still known as the old-school festival.

Still, no other event — save smaller packages like Atlanta's A3C Festival (which assembles a better range of regional styles) and L.A.'s indie-leaning Paid Dues Festival — offers a comparable experience. Unfortunately, stereotypes persist that rappers show up late (or not at all) to concerts, put on uninspired performances and often incite gang violence. Acclaimed headlining sets by Eminem at Lollapalooza and Kanye West at Coachella are just two recent examples that disprove this misconception. But there's enough random evidence, including Big Boi's guileless recent cancellation at San Francisco's Outside Lands fest despite Tweeting pics of himself backstage, to fuel the perception. Perhaps that's why people embrace Rock the Bells with such irrepressible enthusiasm: it's a chance for artists without the selling power of Eminem or Kanye to get their festival moment, too.

]]> Blu sold advance CD-Rs of his forthcoming Warner Bros. album, NoYork, and snapped pictures with groups of admirers. I saw Kosha Dillz and VerBs hawking CDs, too, while K-the-I??, 2Mex, Luckyiam and Planet Asia negotiated for backstage access. One dude wore a massive gold chain with a self-made Rock the Bells pendant; when I asked to take a picture, he posed while flipping me a middle finger. I took it as a sign of an endearment — roughneck behavior is definitely welcome at Rock the Bells (within reason, of course).

The festival was sprawled across the main stage, the pavilion surrounding it, and the parking lot adjacent to the amphitheater. The pavilion itself was crammed with vendors hawking T-shirts and other swag, plus the Grind Time Now stage. (The culinary fare was a grisly mix of hot dogs and burgers — no gourmet lobster dogs here.)

Worst of all, the Paid Dues stage (hosted by Murs, who cofounded the Paid Dues Festival with Rock the Bells promoter Guerilla Union) and the 36 Chambers stage (hosted by the RZA) were within 10 feet of each other in the parking lot. Imagine looking at two people standing side-by-side and yelling at you, and you can see how disastrous this arrangement was. Not only that, but many of the artists on these stages were scheduled at the same time. Slaughterhouse performed on Paid Dues while Black Moon tried to re-enact Enta Da Stage over at 36 Chambers; GZA was forced to re-enact Liquid Swords while Childish Gambino (an acclaimed blog-rap project from actor and comedian Donald Glover) blared away. This led to some hilariously poignant moments. "They're turning up their sound!" GZA yelled to his sound man. "We have to turn it up louder!"

With so much to choose from, I consumed Rock the Bells like a buffet menu, sampling a few tracks from each artist. Black Star and Common reprising "Respiration" was a highlight, as was Cypress Hill's "How I Could Just Kill a Man." When Big K.R.I.T. took the stage, the blunt smoke from the crowd was so thick that it wafted onto him like a smoke machine. Nas and DJ Premier's performance of "New York State of Mind" got me so pumped up that I could barely focus on shooting it. (I freely admit that I'm not much of a photographer.) Fashawn and Exile gave a surprisingly muscular performance of the former's Boy Meets World album, thanks to a full backing band.

The only full performance I saw was Ms. Lauryn Hill, who took the main stage only 30 minutes late. When she finally appeared, she looked beautiful in a frilly white blouse and long black skirt; her voice was ragged and choppy, and she clutched a black handkerchief throughout her set as if it were a security blanket. As she sang energetically, the band sounded trebly and loud: my left ear is still recovering from the unmodulated noise. They could barely keep up with her as she blew through The Miseducation of Lauryn Hill. By the time she finished with an encore set heavy on Fugees classics like "Fugee-La" and "Ready or Not," the audience had dwindled down to a few hundred devotees. "She's the queen!" shouted Nas as they reunited for "If I Ruled the World (Imagine That)." Lauryn, we still love you.

For a photo recap of the Bay Area Rock the Bells stop, click here.

Rock the Bells: Photos

2011-08-31T16:44:36Z

Mos Def. Pics by Mosi Reeves.

Mos Def & Talib Kweli are Black Star, with J-Rocc on the turntables.
Listen to: Black Star, "Re:Definition"

]]> Listen to: Black Star, "Definition"

Sean Price worked overtime, guesting with Roc Marciano and then performing with his Random Axe project.
Listen to: Random Axe, "Random Call"

Blu sold $5 CD-R advances of his upcoming NoYork album.
Listen to: Blu, "Amnesia"

Fashawn and a full band rocked cuts from his Boy Meets World.
Listen to: Fashawn, "Our Way"

Black Moon's 5-Foot Accelerator and Buckshot reprised their classic Enta Da Stage.
Listen to: Black Moon, "Ack Like U Want It"

Murs hands out cans of Monster Energy Drink to thirsty fans.
Listen to: Murs, "Can It Be (Half a Million Dollars and 18 Months Later)"

A Rock the Bells fan that's having a really good time.

Nas and DJ Premier, reunited at last.
Listen to: Nas, "NY State of Mind"

Nas surveys the crowd.
Listen to: Nas, "Halftime"

Lauryn Hill presents her classic The Miseducation of Lauryn Hill.
Listen to: Lauryn Hill, "Doo Wop (That Thing)"

Lil Wayne's Tha Carter IV: An Extended Look

2011-08-29T15:58:57Z

Lil Wayne could have made a much worse album than Tha Carter IV. Certainly, he seemed primed for a disaster. Released in 2010, the widely derided Rebirth was a sophomoric pop-punk experiment. Its follow-up, the I Am Not a Human Being EP, marked a retreat to his modus operandi as a Dirty South rhyme animal, but it sounded rote and joyless, and he seemed distracted by a pending prison stint for weapons possession (which he completed early this year). After those relative failures — though both went gold on Wayne's brand name and his unquenchable fan base — Tha Carter IV seems less likely to draw the same excitement and interest as 2008's Tha Carter III. And while teaser singles such as "John," "6 Foot 7 Foot," "How to Love" and "She Will" have been decent, none of them have equaled the classic minimalist attack of Vol. III's "A Milli" or the inexplicably popular pillow-hump ballad "Lollipop."

]]> New Jack City crack house tenement that inspired it, benefit from reduced expectations? Possibly. As an artist famed for cranking out dozens of songs a year, he can't focus long enough to create a dense conceptual piece like Kanye West's My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy; as a man who's been a rap star since the age of 15, he doesn't entertain the fear of failure that gave pathos to Jay-Z's The Black Album and, to a lesser extent, this year's Jay/Kanye team-up Watch the Throne. Perhaps that's why Tha Carter III, with its Hurricane Katrina homage and broadsides against hack politicians like the Reverend Al Sharpton, didn't resonate as deeply as the first two Carter volumes or his classic Dedication mixtapes. It sounded like Wayne's earnest attempt at making an "important" album, instead of a very funny and slightly weird vocalist perfecting the art of trash talk. His performance on Tha Carter IV improves because he relies on his proven strengths instead of his unrealized ambitions.

As on I Am Not a Human Being, he riffs on familiar themes, namely his own greatness and the many accoutrements it affords (expensive vehicles, loads of cash, comely bisexual women). He remains the kind of guy unafraid to proclaim, "If I die today, it'll be a holiday." ("John" was originally titled "If I Die Today.") Yet he sounds fully engaged, gleefully delivering punch lines that would elicit groans if delivered by a less charismatic rapper. "Man this sh*t won't ever stop/ Suck my green light," he insists on "Intro"; "All my b*tches nasty like a cold dinner," he adds on "Megaman." He audibly laughs and chuckles throughout; several songs begin with the flick of a Bic lighter and the sound of a blunt cigarette burning. However, Wayne turns angry on "It's Good" when he answers Jay-Z and Kanye West's "H.A.M.," particularly Jay's lines against Wayne's mentor and "father," Bryan "Baby the Birdman" Williams. Rapping over one of the album's better beats (a dramatic sweep of violins from Cool & Dre), Wayne shoots back, "Talkin' 'bout 'baby money'?/ I got your 'baby money'/ Kidnap your b*tch, get that how-much-you-love-your-lady money. … I'm a grown-ass blood/ Stop playing with me." It's not the first time that Wayne has touted his alleged association with the Piru Bloods gang.

When Wayne ventures into actual songwriting, he's usually addressing women. "How to Love" describes a woman struggling to find happiness: "You can't have a man look at you for five seconds without feeling insecure," he sings. He doesn't use Auto-Tune, so his voice sounds scratchier than on Rebirth, but it's also unadorned and honest. He comes off as slightly paternalistic, though full of good intentions. However, "How to Hate" lives up to its title, as Wayne and T-Pain rant about low-down and dirty "b*tches." With so many women at his disposal, you think he wouldn't mind if "She always used to say, 'F*ck my n*gg*s/ And when I went to jail, she f*ck*d my n*gg*s." Apparently, he does.

Overall, the production on Tha Carter IV is fairly mediocre, but it's just as well, since Vol. III included some excellent beats and few seemed to care (except for Bangladesh's "A Milli"). Polow Da Don's "John" conjures a heavily-synthesized D-boy menace that roamed the earth long before Lex Luger's sound-defining "Hard in Da Paint." Bangladesh himself revisits "A Milli" territory for "6 Foot 7 Foot," save for a slightly faster tempo and onomatopoeic vocal effects. Willy Will provides the soundtrack for three interludes, two featuring killer guest spots from Tech N9ne (on the first), and Bun B, Nas, Shyne and Busta Rhymes (on the second). It's all just wallpaper and frippery, though: Lil Wayne's often-spellbinding, sometimes-maddening, yet always-dynamic presence is Tha Carter IV's main attraction.

The World of Young Money

2011-08-29T15:55:09Z

Lil Wayne's Young Money is a crew on par with G-Unit, Dipset, Maybach Music and Grand Hustle. Last year, Drake redefined R&B and hip-hop fusion while transforming into a platinum artist with Thank Me Later; Nicki Minaj almost single-handedly revived rapping as a vocation for the ladies and became a platinum sensation with Pink Friday. Which other squad can boast three platinum brands in 2011? To quote Jay-Z's memorable riposte to his many haters at the 2009 American Music Awards (which he later repeated on The Blueprint III's "Reminder"), "Men lie, women lie, numbers don't."

And yet, it seems wrong to rank Young Money among mainstream rap's biggest cliques, even if they've inarguably earned their spot. When we think of rap crews, our minds turn to hood soldiers, self-described thugs that spend as much time racking up criminal charges and beefing with other gangsters as they do logging guest spots on their sponsors' albums, patiently waiting for some shine of their own. Lil Wayne may fit the bill of a fearless, battle-scarred leader who's served prison time, but his progeny seem focused on reaching the pop charts, not ruling the mixtape circuit and carrying Weezy's weed stash. Their heroes are genre-blurring sensations like Kanye West, Chris Brown, Rihanna and, of course, Wayne himself.

This playlist collects all the familiar Y.M. hits from the late 2009 collection We Are Young Money, as well as a few unheralded singles that expand on the collective's urban pop approach. With new, swaggering tracks like "I'm on It," Tyga is carefully rebranding himself after the 2008 novelty hit "Coconut Juice." On "Love Affair" and "New Money," Lil Twist has modeled himself after Bow Wow and other underage emcees, searching for a breakout single that will force the world to notice him. Not every Young Money crew member will blow up like Drake and Nicki Minaj, but expect rap's hottest team to continue upending our notions of the hip-hop supergroup.

Click here to listen to the entire playlist: The World of Young Money.

Tha Carter IV Survival Guide

2011-08-29T15:51:42Z

Hyper-talented, mercurial, unpredictable, prolific, hedonistic, and seemingly unstoppable, Lil Wayne is, if not the best rapper alive, certainly among the most luridly fascinating. Fresh out of prison and reinvigorated, he's back with Tha Carter IV, a record rife with more humor, violence, extravagance, and blockbuster cameos than every wan 2011 Hollywood sequel put together. So here's Rhapsody's exclusive guide, featuring an in-depth review of the record itself, an examination of Wayne's extended Young Money crew, a playlist celebrating Wayne's best recent tracks, and our salute to the Monsters of Rap, from Jay-Z to Eminem to, of course, the man himself. Enjoy.

	Is *Tha Carter IV* another classic? An extended look.			*Life After Rebirth:* A deep playlist running down Wayne's latest hits, misses, and oddities
	Monsters of Rap: Jay, Kanye, 50, Wayne and more battle for hip-hop supremacy			Young Money Talks: Thanks to Drake and Nicki Minaj, Wayne's crew is thriving

E-40, In a Major Way

2011-08-27T11:00:29Z

The third solo album from 40 Water, In A Major Way won a grip of new fans for the Bay's biggest baller. Razor-sharp rhymes and top-of-the-line production are in full effect, resulting in a record that many fans consider his best. Highlights include "Dusted 'N' Disgusted" (with Spice 1, Mac Mall, and Tupac), and the party jam "Smoke ‘N' Drank. —Brolin Winning

Hear It Now!

2011 VMA Nominees Playlist

2011-08-25T17:00:07Z

The Video Music Awards are Sunday night! Yes, we know, MTV doesn't play videos much anymore. And chances are Kanye has learned his lesson and will not hijack the stage from Taylor Swift — though who's to say he won't hijack someone else's spotlight, right? But the VMAs are still a guaranteed evening of hot video clips, killer performances (Adele, Lil Wayne and Bruno Mars are all on the roster!), and, yes, inevitable hijinks of one sort or another. To put it another way: Gaga. Opening. With an army of Little Monsters. (What will she wear?!!!!! We can hardly wait!!!!!)

Furthermore, this year's list of nominees is the show's most diverse in years, with hipster-hop flosser Kreayshawn, indie-poppers Foster the People and bug-eating emcee Tyler, the Creator all battling it out in the Best New Artist category. But even the Video of the Year clash is interesting, with nods to everyone from Adele to Bruno Mars to the Beastie Boys. And then there's the new category, Best Video with a Message: apparently Katy Perry's "Firework" is not actually about plastic bags and sparkler boobs. (That's what we got from it, anyway.) So get pumped with our 2011 VMA Nominees playlist.

Outside Lands 2011: Photos

2011-08-17T21:40:17Z

Gone Phishing at Outside Lands. Pics by Stephanie Benson.

Rhapsody trekked out to the fourth annual Outside Lands Music Festival in San Francisco's picturesque Golden Gate Park to catch acts including Phish, OK Go, The Roots, Foster the People, Beirut, The Black Keys, John Fogerty and more. Check out photo highlights from the three-day extravaganza.

]]>

Listen to Phish

Play: Phish, "Farmhouse"

Play: Phish, Phish: Live In Utica 2010

Listen to OK Go

Play: OK Go, "All is Not Lost"

Play: OK Go, Of the Blue Colour of the Sky

Listen to Charles Bradley

Play: Charles Bradley, "The World (Is Going Up in Flames)"

Play: Charles Bradley, No Time for Dreaming

Play: Charles Bradley, Heart of Gold

Listen to Foster the People

Play: Foster the People, "Pumped Up Kicks"

Watch: Interview with Foster the People

Listen to John Fogerty

Play: John Fogerty, "Centerfield"

Play: Creedence Clearwater Revival, "Have You Ever Seen the Rain?"

Listen to The Decemberists

Play: The Decemberists, "Down By the Water"

Play: The Decemberists, The King is Dead

Play: The Decemberists, The Crane Wife

Listen to MGMT

Play: MGMT, Congratulations

Play: MGMT, Oracular Spectacular

Listen to Deadmau5

Play: Deadmau5, 4x4=12

Listen to The Black Keys

Play: The Black Keys, Brothers

Play: The Black Keys, Attack and Release

Play: The Black Keys, Magic Potion

Listen to Beirut

Play: Beirut, East Harlem

Play: Beirut, The Flying Club Cup

Play: Beirut, Gulag Orkestar

Listen to The Roots

Play: The Roots, How I Got Over

Play: The Roots, Wake Up!

Listen to Clap Your Hands Say Yeah

A graffiti artist checks his sketch

Listen to Josh Ritter

Play: Josh Ritter, So Runs the World Away

Play: Josh Ritter, Rhapsody Originals

Listen to The Meters

Play: The Meters, The Very Best of the Meters

Play: The Meters, The Meters

Listen to Junip

Play: Junip, Fields

Listen to Best Coast

The crowd packs Golden Gate Park

Source Material: Amy Winehouse, Back to Black

2011-08-16T21:59:49Z

When Amy Winehouse passed away from as-yet unknown causes on July 23, the trauma registered across music communities and genre barriers. Rap websites chronicled her duets with Ghostface Killah and Mos Def. Green Day and M.I.A. recorded tributes. And nearly everyone returned to the album that brought her to our attention, 2006's Back to Black.

When the album first surfaced, some listeners struggled to tune out the deafening, industry-fueled hype surrounding it, and as a result, may have underestimated its powers. It is now clear that Back to Black is an incredible piece of music. Perhaps we've reached that verdict out of sadness over her untimely demise, or an awareness of how her years-long spiral into drug and alcohol abuse imprinted her literally blood-soaked image into our minds. Only time will tell us if Winehouse the paparazzi casualty will recede beneath Winehouse the retro-soul prodigy, much as we have come to forget the tabloid follies of Kurt Cobain and many others. We shouldn't lose an appreciation of her music.

]]> Back to Black introduced "retro soul" to the mainstream. A wellspring of '60s-inflected soul, funk and pop music had emerged in the late '90s and simmered in the underground for years through recordings by Miles Tackett's Breakestra, Connie Price & the Keystones, and the Whitehead Brothers. One of its most important practitioners is Daptone Records and its owner, New York musician and producer Gabriel Roth (aka Bosco Mann). Much as James Murphy and DFA Records revived disco and post-punk for the new millennium, Roth and his Brooklyn-based Daptone Records issued new interpretations of classic 1960s idioms from Sharon Jones, Lee Fields, the Sugarman Three, The Budos Band and many others. When Salaam Remi, who produced Winehouse's 2003 debut, Frank, joined forces with Mark Ronson for Back to Black, Ronson recruited Roth's Dap-Kings as the session band.

Back to Black is the sum of its references, and there are many of them. Remi made his name working with The Fugees, and then producing Nas' 2000s material like God's Son and its classic single, the Incredible Bongo Band-sampling "Made You Look." So there's a heavy hip-hop influence that extends beyond Winehouse's lyrical shout-outs to Slick Rick and Nas. Her vocals are reminiscent of Lauryn Hill, particularly on "Just Friends." "Tears Dry on Their Own" is a virtual rewrite of Marvin Gaye and Tammi Terrell's "Ain't No Mountain High Enough." She adopted a beehive hairdo and the rebellious attitude of '60s girl groups like the Ronettes. Finally, Ronson and Remi's commercial sensibilities finessed what could have been an esoteric retro-soul excursion into a shimmering, radio-friendly gem reminiscent of U.K. pop in the early '80s, including singles like Mari Wilson's "Just What I Always Wanted," Tracey Ullman's "They Don't Know," and JoBoxers' "Just Got Lucky." (The Pipettes, whose 2006 self-titled debut predated Back to Black by a few months, deserve mention here.) Yet the breadth of musical knowledge that Winehouse and her collaborators brought to the album made it less ephemeral than a mere pop hit.

After Back to Black became an international sensation, veteran soul singer Sharon Jones often pointed out that the Dap-Kings were her band long before Ronson recruited them. It's true that Sharon Jones & the Dap-Kings' albums, particularly 2004's Naturally, were landmarks. Arguably, though, Winehouse's Back to Black was the tipping point that made retro-soul a stylistic choice as ubiquitous as Auto-Tuned R&B or Beach Boys-esque indie pop. However, neither Adele, nor Duffy, nor any of the other U.K. bluebirds who have followed Winehouse possess her sense of danger, nor her snarling, brutally honest attitude. That voice — which could sound as thin as a razor's edge on "Rehab" and "Me & Mr. Jones" and as deep and sorrowful as a crying river on "Love Is a Losing Game" and "Wake Up Alone" — is what made Back to Black a classic release.

Click here to listen to our accompanying playlist: Click here to listen to our entire playlist: Source Material: Amy Winehouse, Back to Black

Mark Ronson
Version
What would it sound like if you took an accomplished producer and some of the biggest names in pop and locked them in a karaoke bar for the weekend? It might resemble this album, a collection of fun and energetic cover versions adroitly performed by the likes of Lily Allen, Robbie Williams and Amy Winehouse. Purists (particularly Smiths and Jam fans) might cringe at "Stop Me" and "Pretty Green," respectively, but there's no denying that this is homage rather than abasement, and even the most po-faced Radiohead fan will crack a smile at "Just." — Nate Baker

Nas
Greatest Hits
The melancholic ghetto impressionism of early days, where the precocious emcee played the part of a blunted Aesop, gave way to the inspirational claptrap of "If I Ruled the World" and the messianic materialism of "Street Dreams" and "Hate Me Now." You can trace hip-hop's history through these tracks, from the grimy street poetry of "N.Y. State of Mind" to the post-Biggie/Pac derision of "Got Ur Self A ..." to the middle-of-the-road rap of "Bridging the Gap." Whether the 14 tracks collected here represent Nas' best work is debatable, but this collection certainly offers his biggest hits. — Sam Chennault

The Ronettes
Be My Baby: The Very Best of the Ronettes
The Ronettes often get lumped in with the "bad girls" of girl groups, but they're more like hell-raisers with (broken) hearts of gold. This fantastic comp showcases the range of emotion and sensuality those flat, sweet vocals were capable of. Phil Spector's production bounces and echoes around the remastered tracks, ringing as true as it did in the '60s. But it's Ronnie Spector's purr — at times seductive, at times plaintive — you can't take your ears off. Bolstered by her sister Estelle Bennett and cousin Nedra Talley, she begs, pleads and demands her desires be realized. — Rachel Devitt

Phil Spector
Wall of Sound: The Very Best of Phil Spector 1961-1966
In a perfect world, a United Nations resolution would exist that demands every fan of 20th-century pop music to listen to the four-disc juggernaut Back to Mono once a week, at the very least. For those poor souls who can't handle that much Phil Spector, this 19-track collection does the trick nicely. You get the Wall of Sound's most classic hits: "Be My Baby," "Then He Kissed Me," "Baby, I Love You," "He's a Rebel," "A Fine, Fine Boy" and so on. Quite simply, these songs never get old — never. Each and every one is a mini-symphony dripping in romance and heartache. — Justin Farrar

Sharon Jones & the Dap-Kings
Naturally
Casual listeners would be forgiven for mistaking this LP for a recently excavated 1970s soul classic. Jones' vocals — soaring and gritty — recall Aretha Franklin in her prime, while the Dap-Kings' loose funk grooves instantly bring to mind The JB's. The chunky "My Man Is a Mean Man" and torch song "How Long Do I Have to Wait for You?" sound hopelessly (and sublimely) archaic. — S.C.

Lauryn Hill
The Miseducation of Lauryn Hill
The solo debut from The Fugees frontwoman, Miseducation topped the charts, won several Grammy awards, and helped jump-start the "neo-soul" revolution. Blending hip-hop, R&B, soul, and pop, it fast became one of 1998's best-selling and most-praised albums. Includes the hit singles "Doo Wop (That Thing)" and "Everything Is Everything. " — Brolin Winning

Shirley Bassey
Greatest Hits
Everything Shirley Bassey sings sounds like something off a film soundtrack — even the songs that aren't actually on a film soundtrack. Whether she's belting out a show tune or dipping into a guttural growl for one of her Propellerheads collaborations, Bassey's voice is grandiose, dramatic, commanding. You say some fellows called The Doors originally wrote "Light My Fire" and it wasn't a lounge song besotted with sweeping strings and Bacharachian brass? We'll never believe it. Because Shirley Bassey is just that much diva. And, darlings, she most definitely does have the range. — R.D.

Various Artists
Chess Soul
Chess' contributions to the world of soul music cannot be overstated. This set just touches on the brilliance the label was issuing almost weekly from 1961 through 1971. Deep soul numbers from the likes of Mitty Collier, Sugar Pie DeSanto, Etta James and Fontella Bass continue to epitomize the stripped-down, gut-wrenching power of soul — and that's just the women! — Jon Pruett

Gang Starr
Step in the Arena
A classic album from one of hip-hop's most reliable groups, Step in the Arena found Gang Starr in transition. By 1991, they had left behind the sophisticated pop sounds of their debut and were beginning to adopt the jazz textures that defined their mid-period work. This was before sampling laws tightened, so DJ Premier was still relying on longer loops, though the classic Gang Starr signifiers remain, namely, the hard drums and cut-in choruses. Guru, meanwhile, is Guru: monotone, self-important and occasionally witty. He thrives on street vignette tracks such as "Just to Get a Rep," while he falters on the meandering, romantic "Love Sick." — S.C.

Marvin Gaye & Tammi Terrell
The Complete Duets
While their solo works are also legendary, Marvin Gaye and Tammi Terrell had a chemistry that still sizzles decades after the songs were originally released. This 52-track collection features the much-loved classics "I'm Your Puppet" and "Ain't No Mountain High Enough," plus several unreleased gems. — B.W.

The Poets of Rhythm
Discern/Define
An outstanding funk group from Germany, The Poets of Rhythm have mastered the art of re-creating the sounds of years past — specifically, the gritty soul-funk of the '60s and early 1970s. Vintage gear and solid grooves dominate, with a thick, neck-bending vibe that draws from Booker T, The JB's and Krautrock heroes Can. — B.W.

Senior Year, 1990: Dial MTV After School

2011-08-16T20:07:06Z

So first off, welcome to the '90s! Even if it still kind of feels more like the last gasp of the '80s: hair metal is almost over but doesn't know it yet, so it's still all over MTV, with songs about cherry pie (RIP Jani Lane) and unskinny bopping and staying up all night and sleeping all day and living in a house of pain, about girls named Michelle and Janie and Jayne. Then there's Jane's Addiction and Faith No More (with their exploding piano and flopping fish) and that new band King's X, whose singer is black and Christian and 40 years old — if you think about it, loud rock's starting to get a little odd and arty again. Maybe everyone's just weirded out that Nelson have the best hair.

Unless Vanilla Ice does, that is, with his rag-top down so his hair can blow. (Except not really — that pompadour's at a standstill!) But take heed, 'cause he's a lyrical poet, killing your brain like a poisonous mushroom and neck-and-neck with MC Hammer in the contest for America's Favorite Rapper. (Hammer's definitely the better dancer, though.) Worst Hair honors may actually go to Sinéad O'Connor, who doesn't have any, and dances sorta clumsy, to boot. As for who has the better smash ballad named "Hold On," Wilson Phillips or En Vogue — it's a toss-up.

But either way, the decision's in your hands. Every weekday, just call your votes in to 1-800-DIAL-MTV toll-free on your parents' landline, then sit down with a New Coke and watch the Top 10 requests. Who's it gonna be? Bell Biv Devoe? Jane Child? Roxette? Snap? Enuf Z'Nuff? You gotta tune in to find out. Most songs in the playlist below probably placed sometime during the year, for better or worse. It's in your face but you can't grab it. U can't touch this, but nothing compares 2 U.

Click here to listen to our entire playlist: Senior Year, 1990: Dial MTV After School.

David Banner, Mississippi: The Album

2011-08-16T11:00:58Z

Originally part of hip-hop duo Crooked Lettaz, David Banner returns to the spotlight with his sophomore solo effort, Mississippi. Slick, beat-driven songs such as "Like a Pimp" and "Cadillac on 22s" connect the dots between socio-economic inequality and spiritualism in an entertainingly street-wise manner. —Linda Ryan

Hear It Now!

Watch the Throne: Jay-Z and Kanye West's Luxury-Rap Opus, Decoded

2011-08-12T17:00:26Z

Watch the Throne is here. Shame on you if you thought Jay-Z and Kanye West's opus was nothing more than a blogger's wet dream: it's real, it's "H.A.M.," and yes, it's much, much better than Best of Both Worlds.

So get ready for the clash of the titans with our stupendous Throne Survival Guide. Find out where we placed Hova and Yeezy among hip-hop's other royal actors in our Monsters of Rap feature (feel free to disagree). Relive the dynamic duo's pre-Throne collabos with our Jay-Z & Kanye West: Before the Throne playlist, from Kanye's early beats for Jay to their guest appearances on each other's tracks. Listen to their dozens of solo hits and vocal appearances from 2009 to today with the dual playlists Before the Throne: Jay-Z and Before the Throne: Kanye West. And finally, read our deep-dive take on Watch the Throne itself. It's time to pay homage to the undisputed kings of luxury rap.

	Worth the Wait? A deep dive into quite possibly the biggest rap album of 2011			Before the Throne: Our favorite pre-W.T.T. Jay/Kanye collaborations
	Monsters of Rap: Lil Wayne, 50 Cent and other modern emcees worthy of the throne			Tag Teams: More classic hip-hop supergroups, from Black Star to Jaylib to Gravediggaz
	The Best of Jay-Z: His best from 2009 on, from "D.O.A." to "Light Up"			The Best of Kanye West: From "POWER" to "Christmas in Harlem," his most recent hits

Rap Is Not Pop: Monsters of Rap

2011-08-12T16:01:29Z

Back in the '80s, the world's biggest rock bands gathered together for an annual stadium festival called Monsters of Rock. Though mostly a U.K. phenomenon, an American version featuring Van Halen and Metallica toured the States in 1988. Now, with the release of Jay-Z and Kanye West's Watch the Throne, it's an ideal time to chronicle the rise of the hip-hop megastar and establish our very own Monsters of Rap.

First, let's establish some rules. They must have at least one platinum album. (That eliminates Kid Cudi, Rick Ross, Lupe Fiasco, Gucci Mane, Flo Rida, Tech N9ne, B.o.B, Wiz Khalifa and Pitbull.) They must have at least two full-length albums to their credit. After all, "monster" signifies a fearsome animal with a significant life span, not a zygote-like flash in the pan. (That eliminates Drake and Nicki Minaj.) Finally, they must be an "active" artist with new material; artists who are dead (the Notorious B.I.G., 2Pac, and Big Pun, R.I.P.) and currently inactive (Missy Elliott, OutKast) are excluded.

]]> Timbaland is mostly known as a studio producer and vocalist, not a stage performer. Pharrell Williams has his own solo hits (including 2003's "Frontin"), and even pulled off tours with his alt rock group N.E.R.D., but has never carried a platinum album on his own. Young Jeezy, Lil Jon, The Game and Nelly were hugely successful in the past, but their popularity isn't where it used to be. Unlike rock, hip-hop is all about who's hot right now. Hit singles come and go, but platinum albums, touring revenue, boutique labels, and business ventures mark the difference between temporary and lasting stardom.

So who qualifies as a Monster of Rap, a behemoth comparable to corporate-rock dinosaurs like The Rolling Stones and Aerosmith? Here's a baker's dozen, ranked in order of importance.

1. Eminem
Biggest Albums: 2000's The Marshall Mathers LP and 2002's The Eminem Show, both certified diamond (10 million copies shipped)
No. 1 Hits: "Lose Yourself," "Crack a Bottle," "Not Afraid," "Love the Way You Lie"
Claim to Greatness: Eminem tops the list because he's the only rapper with two diamond albums, and his quadruple-platinum Recovery was the best-selling album of 2010. Regardless of arguments over whether he's the true G.O.A.T. (greatest of all time), he has a legitimate claim to being the most popular rapper in history. Although he recently relaunched Shady Records with mixtape stars like YelaWolf and Slaughterhouse, Em's general reclusiveness means he will always trail Jay-Z in extracurricular ventures. However, his millions of "stans" probably admire him for that.

2. Jay-Z
Biggest Album: 1998's Vol. 2 … Hard Knock Life, five times platinum
No. 1 Hit: "Empire State of Mind"
Claim to Greatness: Jay-Z's career has suffered from pop radio's traditional reluctance to program rap hits, a glass ceiling he finally broke through with 2009's "Empire State of Mind." And his celebrated business prowess via Roc-A-Fella, Roc Nation and a minority stake in the New Jersey Nets sometimes overshadows his musical accomplishments. Quibbles aside, he's a megastar who can assemble platinum projects and sold-out arena tours at will. The mania surrounding Watch the Throne is a perfect example.

3. Lil Wayne
Biggest Album: 2008's Tha Carter III, triple platinum
No. 1 Hit: "Lollipop"
Claim to Greatness: Lil Wayne's classic 2007 mixtape run and 2009's No Ceilings linger in rap fans' minds. His Young Money team runs the charts, and his arena tours are hugely successful among teenage girls with "Lollipop" ringtones. However, his increasing pop incursions, from the syrupy ballad "How to Love" to rock experiments like 2010's gold-selling Rebirth, make him a bit of an enigma, and may account for a lack of street buzz surrounding his forthcoming Tha Carter IV.

4. Kanye West
Biggest Albums: 2005's Late Registration, triple platinum
No. 1 Hits: "Gold Digger," "Stronger"
Claim to Greatness: Kanye West seems to succeed in spite of himself. As he once put it, "I've got the title in two classes," generating hits as a solo artist and as a producer, not to mention as a guest vocalist (see Katy Perry's "E.T.") and co-owner of G.O.O.D. Music. Provocative statements and a pompous attitude make him one of the world's least popular celebrities, yet they inadvertently divert attention to his inarguable strengths as a musician. Otherwise, why would we care about this self-admitted D-bag?

5.The Black Eyed Peas
Biggest Album: 2005's Monkey Business, quadruple platinum
No. 1 Hits: "Boom Boom Pow," "I Gotta Feeling," "Imma Be"
Claim to Greatness: Scholars will have a field day deciding the Peas' place in history. Should they be admired for launching a series of pop hits in the '00s, or derided for novelties like "Boom Boom Pow"? Complicating matters, the group lost face with its awful halftime-show performance at the 2011 Super Bowl. The four members recently announced an extended hiatus to work on solo projects, but they may find themselves diminished and ready for the "I Love the Aughts" oldies circuit when they return.

6. T.I.
Biggest Album: 2008's Paper Trail, double platinum
No. 1 Hits: "Whatever You Like," "Live Your Life"
Claim to Greatness: T.I. may be a recidivist felon, but he's a hot star who turned 2010's No Mercy into gold despite little promotion and mixed reviews. And he proved with Paper Trail that he could launch a crossover smash. Questions remain as to whether he can expand his Grand Hustle label (B.o.B's The Adventures of Bobby Ray was a big step) and build his portfolio with concert tours and marketing ventures, and if his ongoing legal problems will hinder him.

7. Snoop Dogg
Biggest Album: 1993's Doggystyle, quadruple platinum
No. 1 Hit: "Drop It Like It's Hot"
Claim to Greatness: Snoop Dogg is on the downside of his recording career after two disappointing albums, 2009's Malice 'N Wonderland and this year's Doggumentary. But he continues to generate good will with his brand name, occasional acting gigs, two decades' worth of hits, and headliner status at festivals and arena tours. With the right producers and songs, he could easily make a comeback album.

8. 50 Cent
Biggest Album: 2003's Get Rich or Die Tryin', six times platinum
No. 1 Hits: "In Da Club," "21 Questions," "Candy Shop"
Claim to Greatness: 50 Cent's business dealings, fledgling B-movie career and constant presence on the Internet (usually for making gleefully ignorant statements) mask the fact that he hasn't had a major hit since 2007's Curtis (though he landed a guest verse on Jeremih's "Down on Me"). He doesn't have much of a concert reputation, either. However, his high profile among rap fans leaves the door open to another hit album — if he's capable of making one.

9. Dr. Dre
Biggest Album: 1999's 2001, six times platinum
No. 1 Hit: None; "Nuthin' but a 'G' Thang" peaked at No. 2
Claim to Greatness: Dr. Dre is reportedly retooling Detox after a mixed response to two early singles, "Kush" and "I Need a Doctor." He seems determined for another Chronic-sized landmark, but years of inactivity and a perfectionist's approach will make that difficult. It's hard to keep your finger on pop's pulse at the age of 46. Successful ventures like the Beats by Dre headphone products and his ongoing mentorship of fellow Monsters of Rap like Eminem, Snoop Dogg, and 50 Cent qualify him for this list.

10. Diddy
Biggest Album: 1997's No Way Out, seven times platinum
No. 1 Hits: "Can't Nobody Hold Me Down," "I'll Be Missing You"
Claim to Greatness: Diddy's recent theater tour for his Diddy Dirty Money project reminded us that he's years removed from his arena-crushing No Way Out years, no matter how many reality shows he launches on MTV. His power now lies in his tabloid celebrity and multimedia ventures, chiefly his clothing line, Sean John. He can still launch radio hits with the right synergy, including "Loving You No More" with Drake.

11. Nas
Biggest Albums: 1996's It Was Written and 1999's I Am …, both double-platinum
No. 1 Hits: None, but "I Can" peaked at No. 12
Claim to Greatness: Better known as an album artist than a singles artist, Nas doesn't generate platinum hits like he used to: last year's collaboration with Damian Marley, Distant Relatives, earned respectable reviews and little else. Then again, few in any genre do. Besides, he gets to play arenas every year as a major investor in Guerilla Union, the promotions company behind the annual Rock the Bells festival.

12. Ludacris
Biggest Albums: 2000's Back for the First Time, 2001's Word of Mouf, both triple platinum
No. 1 Hits: "Stand Up," "Money Maker"
Claim to Greatness: Why is Ludacris ranked so low despite 2010's No. 1, gold-selling Battle of the Sexes? He has never mounted an international arena tour, hasn't had a critically acclaimed album, and after some initial success, his Disturbing Tha Peace imprint has cooled. His acting gigs are well received, but it's hard to imagine him carrying a movie like Mos Def or Will Smith. Unless Ludacris can grow into a respected album artist, he'll be the latest in a line of pop-rap stars only truly famous for their hit-making ability.

13. Beastie Boys
Biggest Album: 1986's Licensed to Ill, nine times platinum
Number-One Hits: None; "(You Gotta) Fight for Your Right (To Party!)" peaked at No. 7
Claim to Greatness: Before you snicker, ask yourself this: who else can land a top-five album on brand name alone, owns an Oscar-nominated film production company, and can launch arena tours at will? The Beastie Boys may not have had a real hit in over a decade, but their lasting popularity and catalog of classics make them the definition of a Monster of Rap.

Jay-Z and Kanye West's Watch the Throne: An Extended Look

2011-08-12T16:00:44Z

"Wasn't I a good king?" complains Jay-Z near the conclusion of Watch the Throne, his long-awaited full-length collaboration with Kanye West. Who can blame his haughtiness? The natives are restless. Last year was an embarrassment of riches, as Thank Me Later, Teflon Don and, yes, My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy redefined the contours of luxury rap. But 2011 is the comedown, ruined by pretenders like Wiz Khalifa's Rolling Papers and Big Sean's Finally Famous, which trumpet the virtues of overnight celebrity with none of the sweat, vigor or hard-won respect.

And so we sink our teeth into Watch the Throne, and find the taste rather funny. When two superstars get together, we expect frizzy blasts of energy that wow us on first listen and slowly dissipate in the morning, like a pleasant dream. We're looking for impact, not resonance, like B.B. King and Eric Clapton's Riding with the King. We expect incredible verses (or guitar solos) and catchy songs before we return to the drudgery of our pedestrian lives.

But instead, here we get the specter of 2010's cash crop, and the distant yet still visible peaks of Jay-Z and Kanye West's past glories. The critics, bloggers and rap fanatics are waiting, too, ready to write virtual term papers on this pay-per-listen event and turn W.T.T. into a metaphor for either the debt crisis or the yawning income gap between rich and poor, or whatever. If this bloated hour-plus enterprise fails, albeit admirably, it'll be despite our two heroes' attempts to fulfill our contradictory expectations for shameless pop carnality and weighty artistic sustenance.

]]> W.T.T.'s least complicated pleasures can be found in the trebly white noise of "Why I Love You" (coproduced with Mike Dean and Anthony Kilhoffer), the pummeling bro-step bass of "Who Gon Stop Me" (Dean and Shama "Sak Pase" Joseph), a replica of Terminator X's "Brothers Gonna Work It Out" scratch for "That's My Bitch" (Q-Tip and Jeff Bhasker), and the street-hop funk keyboards of "Welcome to the Jungle" (vintage Swizz Beatz), despite their tangle of end credits. Then there's the joyous old-school roundelay of "Otis," a delightfully messy loop of Otis Redding "got-ta-got-ta-na-na"-ing on "Try a Little Tenderness" that sounds like Kanye chopped it up with an MPC in five minutes. We'd love more of that, so Kanye obliges with "Gotta Have It," with its staccato sample phrases of James Brown exhorting "What ya need/ What-what-what-ya-need?" Yet over a decade into his career, Kanye has contracted the Dr. Dre syndrome. He leans on a battery of mercenaries to help him finish beats — The Neptunes coproduced "Gotta Have It," but "Otis" is all his — while relying on his compositional and executive production skills to give the finished product a suitable Kanye glow.

Jay-Z channels others, too. After a plodding, long-in-the-tooth performance on The Blueprint 3, the 40-something icon needs fresh blood to energize him. His guest vocals on Teflon Don and My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy found him revitalized, even if he depended on well-worn themes of the rich man's blues and telling the natives to eat cake. His most interesting verses here find him returning to the stump, equating his ascent from petty drug dealer to New Jersey (Brooklyn) Nets part-owner and Atlantic Yards developer (or gentrifier, if you side with that controversial land project's critics) with the holy Civil Rights heroes of yore. "My apple pie was supplied through Arm & Hammer/ Straight out the kitchen/ Shhh, don't wake Nana," Jay raps, as if he was a mere precocious child naughtily sneaking pastries from the refrigerator instead of a petty crack dealer. Meanwhile, Frank Ocean sweetly serenades Hova on the "Made in America" hook: "Sweet King Martin/ Sweet Queen Coretta … sweet baby Jesus, we made it in America."

Kanye's principal contribution to W.T.T. lies behind the engineering boards; he polishes the songs until they glisten with a pop sheen. Lyrically he's still flushing out his issues over Taylor Swift and South Park's "gay fish" joke, and his subsequent banishment to the celebrity doghouse. He recently told a U.K. audience that he "gets treated like Hitler," but sadly, he doesn't offer anything as richly provocative here. (His soft-porn imagery on "That's My B*tch" and lines like "My d*ck worth money/ I put Monie in the middle" don't cut it.) However, he lands a few nice punches: "When we die the money we can't keep/ But we probably spend it all 'cause the pain ain't cheap," he raps on "No Church in the Wild."

That leaves Jay to configure this Throne as the scepter of the hip-hop diaspora. As the record's hour-plus running time unfurls (including four bonus tracks led by the Lex Luger-produced hip-hopera "H.A.M."), Jay positions himself as a shining exemplar for the black entrepreneur. On "That's My B*tch," he gives a shout-out to black women, rapping, "Put some colored girls in the MoMA/ Half of these broads ain't got nothing on Wilona [from Good Times]." He then holds up his wife, Beyoncé Knowles: "You belong in Benzes and clothes crushing the whole building/ You belong with n*ggas who used to be known for dope dealing." He imagines himself as a benevolent ruler that represents the common folk. He wants to take us on the corporate jet of "N*ggas in Paris": "I'm supposed to be locked up, too/ You escape when I escape/ You be in Paris gettin' f*cked up, too."

The craggy, uncut diamonds here — including "Otis," "Gotta Have It" and "Who Gon Stop Me" (which doesn't have a proper chorus) — indicate that Kanye signed up for a cross-continental lark around the Billboard charts, only to have big brother Jay saddle him with a high-concept guilt trip. (Actually, that's what we thought we would get, too.) Kanye probably doesn't care as much, cocksure that he has a few Fantasies left in his future. But Jay can't imagine losing any battles, whether it's for his soul or a war of words with former minions-turned-frenemies. So he counters Kanye's Fantasy, and its gloriously unhinged tale of misogyny and spiritual tragedy, with a companion piece about a reformed drug dealer's moral certitude and a Black Chamber of Commerce perspective that equates racial consciousness with prosperity theology. If only he didn't have to appease those goddam barbarians at his door, bellies full and and hungry for more than self-help lessons.

Watch the Throne is a generous offer to them. "I tried to teach n*ggas how to be kings," says Jay. But as Langston Hughes once wrote, life ain't no crystal stair.

Lollapalooza, Day Three: Rain, Mud, and Inexplicable Joy

2011-08-08T17:20:03Z

Bow down to Deadmau5, oh ye water-logged masses. Pics by Garrett Kamps.

The final day of Lollapalooza's 20th-anniversary fest began so beautifully. The sun shone, the birds chirped (probably -- it was hard to hear them over the ovaries-rattling bass from Perry's Stage, which reverberated through the entire park today), the crowd skipped happily from show to show, and the perpetually friendly Lolla staffers smiled and thanked people as they crossed the gates. Did I mention that early-afternoon shining sun? Focus on it. Bask in it. Because after that? It rained. A lot. And then it rained again. A lot. And then there was mud. So, so much mud. The proceedings ended in drenched streets and unrecognizably filthy festies and shoe-swallowing, phone-destroying craters of mud. And that, too, was beautiful.

Rain at a festival, while not exactly ideal, is the great equalizer. Yes, it was unfortunate that Arctic Monkeys' set (among others) got delayed by the first storm. But the people I was huddled with under the Estancia lounge tent were laughing, bonding, making new friends -- and watching the dripping diehards at Cage the Elephant catch Matt Schultz's increasingly slippery body as he (and his mic) stage-dove again and again. And when the first downpour stopped and all 90,000 of us came together again, those of us who weren't drenched quickly got painted with mud. What beautiful people? Everyone was beautiful, everyone was ugly -- and everyone looked like they were paying homage to the classic images of joyfully muddy hippies at Lolla progenitor Woodstock. And when the second deluge began minutes before the headliner sets, it seemed almost fitting, as if Deadmau5 at one end and Dave Grohl's Foo Fighters at the other had called the rains down for their legions of ravers and rockers to play in. The crowd, many covered in trash bags donated by the ground crew, collectively said "screw it" and bolted for the field, helping each other up when they fell, and using the mud as a dance partner that could spin and slip them around.

]]>
Kid-Friendly, or Lolla Believes the Children Are the Future.
Lollapalooza prides itself on kid-friendliness. There's the Kidsapalooza stage, of course, where Perry Farrell always plays a set. There's an offspring-loss-prevention tag-a-kid booth. But beyond the infrastructure, the kids at Lolla, especially on Sunday, just rock. Cases in point: The family of Deadmau5 fans consisting of Mom, Dad and three little kids all decked out in neon paint and mouse ears. The way hardcore tots taunted the rain from Dad's shoulders while wussier grownups ran for shelter. The absolutely awesome little boy of about seven whose seriously fly popping-and-locking in the field at Nas and Damian "Jr. Gong" Marley's set drew a huge crowd of smiling, photo-snapping fans. These tykes are cooler than you or me -- and Lolla knows it.

Culinarily Adventurous, Which May Not Be Such a Good Thing.
Lolla's curated vendor list makes for good media, but not so much for profitable fest food. By the end of day one, Grahamwich workers were struggling to move their excess lobster-corndog stock. By day three, the scotch eggs at Gage/Henri had been reduced in price. The lines for deep-dish pizza and Kuma's burgers were unwaveringly long, however.

Don't take it personally if The Cars don't seem happy to be there.

Trend-Setting, in Its Own Way.
Festivals develop their own fashions over the course of the run. Must-haves for Lolla attendees? Rompers. CamelBak water packs. And oh my goodness, headbands: skinny ropes over braids for that potentially problematic neo-Native American look, sparkly bands for the raver flower children and, most of all, Lollapalooza bandanas wrapped around the forehead like a sweatband. The line for these suckers, which the fest gave away for free, was epically long all weekend long. Must-haves for attendees who want everyone to take their picture? Face-covering, neon-hued full-body stockings (though my favorite was a dude in a three-piece suit). Must-haves for artists? Bells: OK Go had handbells, everyone and their sister had glockenspiels, even The Cars had sleigh bells. Humble stage banter: With few exceptions (like The Cars, who didn't really talk, but hey, they're The Cars), just about every artist was exceptionally happy to be there and grateful to the audience.

Invested in Discovery.
Sure, you can see big stars and old favorites at Lolla, but a significant portion of the festival -- typically the earlier hours -- is dedicated to showcasing up-and-coming acts, including many who have never played the festival (or any festival) before. Sunday, for instance, included Lia Ices' first Lolla appearance at the BMI Stage. All bangles and hair, Ices and her band entranced the crowd with their meandering, ethereal (though somewhat rock-grounded) fairy-tale folk pop set (which included a cover of Pink Floyd's "Wish You Were Here"). Over on the Google+ Stage, Detroit's Dale Earnhardt Jr. Jr. rocked the d-bag theatre hard (bubble machines! Whitney Houston soundbites! Ironic racing t-shirts!) and announced that they planned to celebrate their first Lolla gig by leaving "little treats" in various outhouses, including, possibly, a bottle of Dom Perignon.

Ryan Bingham, offering up smokey Southern-rock revivalism to complement your lobster corndog

Somewhat Chaotically Curated.
Lolla's lineup often appears to have been thrown together with little rhyme or reason. Sometimes, it really worked: The somewhat unexpected pairing of foxy Irish rockabilly singer Imelda May on the Sony Stage, followed by the thick, smoky Southern-rock revivalism of Americana act Ryan Bingham and the Dead Horses? Awesome. Nas and Damian Marley "opening" for Deadmau5? Kind of weird (though by that point, the rain had washed away all genre boundaries). Little smatterings of odd pop acts, hip-hop and R&B seemed more the result of hard sells by labels and publicists than a real investment on Lolla's part.

Kind of Into the Old-School Rock and the Roll -- but With the Occasional Eye Toward the Future.
Nothing drove this home more than the Foo Fighters' gesture towards Lolla's grungy roots on one end and Deadmau5's rave revivalism on the other of the festival's grounds during Sunday's headline slots. A bit more hip-hop (and maybe a few less white rocker dudes) would have been welcome, however.

A Rather Impeccably Run Community.
Lolla at 20 is not exactly the scrappy, politically motivated, DIY-esque happening of its youth. It's evolved into a smooth, slick, well-oiled machine -- but that's not such a bad thing. While Lolla's maturity means more corporatism and commercialism, it also allows for the implementation of a lot of really great programs, like water-bottle-filling stations, a commitment to recycling and grounds upkeep, and a general fest-as-community ideology that everyone there builds together.

And when the rains came down on Sunday, that's the attitude that prevailed. My colleagues spent the interim between showers at the aptly named Explosions in the Sky, but I think the scene at Nas and Damian Marley's set truly embodied the Lolla spirit. As Nas dedicated tunes to leaders and Marley called out to all the "warriors" in the crowd to work together, grimy fans with their arms linked smiled, helped each other pick through the puddles, sang along, waved Jamaican flags and, yes, staged an impromptu (and innocuous) mud-wrestling pit.

Eminem, The Marshall Mathers LP

2011-08-08T11:00:22Z

Though the template of laying irreverent societal critique over bouncy Dr. Dre beats is left essentially intact, Marshall Mathers is darker and meaner. It mixes homophobia and misogyny with murder fantasies. The epic narrative "Stan" was Eminem's attempt to reconcile his responsibility as an influential public figure with his role as an entertainer and artist. But the distance between art and reality wasn't as clear as the song would lead us to believe, and the violent fantasy "Kim" reportedly led his wife, the song's subject, to attempt suicide. This is volatile, obscene and great art. —Sam Chennault

Hear It Now!

Lollapalooza, Day Two

2011-08-07T16:57:02Z

Just sing, man: CeeLo does his Rock God thing. Pics by Garrett Kamps

The ironic charm of music festivals, as everyone knows, is that they're actually a pretty crappy place to hear music. The festgoer paradox at an event as massive as Lollapalooza (which completely sold out beforehand for the first time this year) is this: should you fight your way to the front of the stage and stake out a spot early enough to actually see your favorite band, which means you aren't going anywhere, including to other stages where other bands are playing, until the show's over? Or should you try to "see" as many acts as you can from the back of the lawn, behind a tree, next to a bunch of drunk people who are talking louder than the band is playing? Ultimately, the best decision is to just focus on creating an experience.

So what was the experience of Lolla like on Saturday? Well, day two began with rain: buckets of mud-producing, sludge-inducing rain that quickly coated the extremities of festgoers. The day ended with heat: the sun came out with a vengeance, the temperatures rose, the humidity was oppressive. And somewhere in the middle, everyone got drunk. Really, really drunk. Yesterday's beautiful people? Gone -- or at least so covered in mud that they were unrecognizable as such. The festival grounds, which were expanded to make for a sprawling 115 acres in 2010? Still navigable, thanks to the crisscrossing network of paths and streets that make up Chicago's Grant Park, but it still requires an inner pep talk every time one is faced with the task of navigating through tens of thousands of sweaty bodies. The port-a-potty situation? Grim. What else was a girl and 90,000 or so of her closest friends to do but give in and just enjoy the ride, with all its highs and lows, twists and turns, uppers and downers?

]]> High Point: Latin alt darling Ximena Sariñana got the day off to a positively joyous start at the BMI stage. Clearly thrilled to be playing her "first American festival" and repeatedly thanking the audience for braving the rainy conditions and early set time, the delightful Mexican singer-songwriter and her equally adorable band charmed the ponchos off the crowd, which grew considerably as Sariñana's oddly lilting voice drew people in from across the grounds. Her brand of electro-inflected indie pop, which ranges from cute and bouncy to dramatic and intense, was so infectious that the crowd began erupting in applause as choruses built to their climax. Fans of Lykke Li (who we'll return to in a moment), take note. This is your girl to watch.

High Point and Low Point, all in one: Waiting out a smattering of raindrops under the protection of the umbrella-covered tables at the biergarten was kind of a bummer. Realizing that I could hear stages going up all over the festival grounds and watch people skip off in all directions to catch shows from this central location, however, was pretty cool.

High Point: Joining the jubilant, rain-defying party that cropped up at the Playstation Stage for Chico Trujillo, a Chilean band that plays lightning-fast, ska-infused cumbia (skambia?), and acts like a cross between The Mighty Mighty Bosstones back in the day, a Latin American comic variety show (complete with funny shirts!), and a circus. I'm pretty sure their drummer, who played the set like he was a whole Latin percussion section, is the living embodiment of what it feels like to slam, like, six Red Bulls.

High Point: Happening upon Maps & Atlases, a Chicago band I knew nothing about, at the Google+ Stage and thoroughly enjoying their endearingly pretentious, exceptionally earnest and finely crafted indie folk-rock.

Low Point: Skylar Grey's set at the BMI Stage. I was interested to see what this up-and-comer, best known as of now for singing the hooks on every song on the radio that Bruno Mars hasn't gotten to first (Dr. Dre and Eminem's "I Need a Doctor," for example) was all about. Turns out she's about solid singing, which was good, but also about a kind of less polished version of early Avril Lavigne brattiness that I just wasn't quite feeling. The real point of this low point, though, was the increasingly rotten sound situation at the BMI Stage, where your options are to stand at the front and get blasted with too much bass, or stand anywhere from the middle on back and hear the Bud Light stage bleed in.

Perry's Interlude
As promised, I dedicated over an hour of my day to just hanging out at Perry's Stage, the gigantic tent that's ostensibly the DJ are but is actually a de facto all-ages club scene perpetually packed to the gills with wasted 17-to-25-year-olds attempting to hook up (and sometimes, just stand up). Here is my report from the trenches:
3:25 p.m. Determinedly saunter toward stage. Hear the Super Mash Bros. throw on a bass-heavy, beats-happy Taylor Swift club remix. That's right, Taylor Swift. Quickly veer off into the Citi 20th Anniversary Lounge to regroup on the cool white couches there.
3:35 p.m. Attempt Two to enter the tent. Success! The place is crawling with mud-caked, neon-clad kids, chatting and dancing calmly while they wait for the next act. It's not that bad, right? Right?!
3:45 p.m. Notice creepy old dude standing alone.
3:46 p.m. Wonder if someone else is noticing me, creepy old lady standing alone.
3:50 p.m. PerryEtty (the electro act Perry Farrell has with his wife) vs. Chris Cox takes the stage. Perry Farrell is wearing a vest -- and nothing else -- on top.
3:52 p.m. Bass penetrates soul.
3:53 p.m. Remember I have ear plugs! Hooray!
4:01 p.m. Become entranced with creepy but kind of sexy Skeletor-looking robo-lady image swaying to the music on the screen. Realize it's Etty, whose job is apparently to prowl seductively around the stage while Perry sings over the beats.
4:04 p.m. Get Super Soaker'd.
4:11 p.m. Watch failed pickup attempt by shirtless dude.
4:14 p.m. Realize Perry Farrell absolutely cannot dance. He can, however, drop the beat and pick it up by pumping his fist in an Arsenio Hall-esque way that shows his age.
4:18 p.m. Realize (a) that Etty has been offstage for quite some time now, and (b) that life without robo-Etty is boring. Head outside the tent to the equally banging spillover party on the lawns surrounding it.
4:27 p.m. Wish I were drunk.
4:28 p.m Watch kids buy pot, then look up to see a plane fly over pulling the following ad: "I'm higher than you are." No, I'm not kidding.
4:35 p.m. Back into the trenches. T-shirt sighting: "Sex. Drugs. House."
4:39 p.m. Notice that Perry Farrell has tired of bouncing and is now just kind of slowly swaying. Decide that's my cue to leave.

Whew! What a journey! And now back to our regularly schedule highs and lows.

Simultaneous High and Low Point: Former Fall Out Boy Patrick Stump takes the stage his ex-bandmate Pete Wentz commanded the day before -- only he shows up TWELVE minutes late. Low. Entire band is in tuxes and there's a keytar! High. Stump is kind of silly, and the whole performance, a sort of retro R&B revival that sounds a lot like a bunch of Prince covers, is a bit heavily stylized. Low. But Stump is still a solid singer -- and he busted out a medley of New Jack covers that included "Poison" and "This Is How We Do It!" High!

Local Natives: Too many new songs, perhaps.

Low Point: Local Natives. I find this band's glistening indie pop a little lackluster to begin with, but they are having trouble keeping the big crowd that's amassed engaged with a set that's driven by new songs no one knows.

Low Point: CeeLo! I know! I can't believe it either. The salty-voiced soul slinger was a blinding lineup highlight for me, and all signs point to awesome as he takes the stage in a Viking King getup that involves a manly skirt and a vest topped with spiked metal shoulder pads. Unfortunately, his considerable vocal attributes are overshadowed by a heavy-handed Rock God concept that revolves around recordings of genre classics (like Nirvana's "Smells Like Teen Spirit") instead of around his blazingly hot all-girl backing band. And he spends way too much of his set exhorting the crowd to make more noise, even stopping the music several times to admonish us for not being loud enough. As the dude next to me put it, "Just sing, man!" I concur, dude, I concur.

Lykke Li: A joy to hear, even if you can't see her.

High Point That Could Have Been a Low Point: I rush over to catch part of Lykke Li's set, only to discover that the crowd is so huge that there's nowhere to stand except in the back amid the shady but sight-blocking trees at the Google+ Stage. Giving up any attempt to actually see much of the Swedish pop chanteuse, I buy some kind of amazing "Brazilian grilled cheese on a stick" snack from one of the Farmer's Market vendors, settle in among the wood nymphs, and simply let the sounds of her otherworldly vocals and army of drummers (Lykke herself included) wash over me. Lovely.

High Point: Eminem. The star of the evening in every sense of the word. The muddy, drunken, huddled masses are exhaustedly tiptoeing around the sludge pits that dot the Music Unlimited field, but they are pumped. And so is Mr. Mathers. Say what you will about Eminem, he is a consummate showman: He stalks the stage wearing an ominous black hoodie (and later, a Bad Meets Evil t-shirt), alternately venomous and uncomfortably vulnerable rhymes erupting from his mouth. His not-so-secret power is the ability to stage his own perpetual near-mental breakdown with a theatrical violence that verges on camp -- and make us love him, laugh at him a little, and fear him for it. The sheer physicality of his flow makes him a dynamic performer. His willingness to cater to his fans with hit after hit ("Airplanes"! "Cleaning Out My Closet"! "Stan!") and exciting onstage guests (Royce da 5'9", of course, but also Bruno Mars!) makes him a formidable pop star.

And that, my friends, is just one way to ride the beast that is Lolla. Tune in tomorrow, when we wrestle with more rain, more heat, more drunk kids, more awesome bands, more cheesy snacks and, of course, the question of life at 20 for Lollapalooza.

Del The Funky Homosapien, No Need for Alarm

2011-07-31T11:00:09Z

As the cleanup hitter for Oakland's mighty Hieroglyphics collective, Del established himself as a rising star (with help from cousin Ice Cube) on 1991's P-funk sampling I Wish My Brother George Was Here. But with his 1993 follow-up, Del wanted to prove to rivals that he really knew how to spit. He took no prisoners on hard-hitting cuts like "Catch a Bad One" and "Boo Boo Heads," slanging verses and putdowns with a panache worthy of KRS-One. The punchy No Need for Alarm made Del a hero among underground hip-hop fans, but it curtailed his mainstream career. He didn't re-emerge on the pop radar until 2000, when Gorillaz recruited him for "Clint Eastwood." —Mosi Reeves

Hear It Now!

Bandmating: Kreayshawn and L1L' D3BB13 (video)

2011-07-29T21:17:26Z

Welcome to Bandmating, Rhapsody's new show where we put bandmates in the hot seat to test how well they know each other. In this episode, we've got swag-rap sensation Kreayshawn and an unusually effusive DJ LIL D3BB13 (Lil' Debbie) coming out about snacking, sleeping, singing and of course, makin' whoopie.

Play Gucci Gucci

Bay Area rapper/filmmaker Kreayshawn’s aesthetic is as compelling as it is bizarre: she's like an escapee from the Mickey Mouse Club raised by hip-hop kids on the streets of Oakland. As evinced by her ridiculously addictive YouTube hit “Gucci Gucci,” she makes music that can be as goofy as Salt-n-Pepa's and as graphic as Tyler, the Creator's. If she can develop a sound with appeal outside the insular swag-rap community — which Columbia Records, who recently signed her, is betting she can — then we may be witnessing the birth of one of the most puzzling, controversial pop stars since Lady Gaga.

- Garrett Kamps

Outkast, Stankonia

2011-07-23T11:00:33Z

The fourth record from Atlanta's reigning duo of funkiness is Outkast's most commercially successful project to date. Produced mostly by themselves, they continue to get staggeringly better with each release. Experimenting with more bugged-out sonic combinations, the release features "B.O.B.," "So Fresh, So Clean," "Ms Jackson," and "Red Velvet." Amazing music.

Hear It Now!

Senior Year, 1983: Black Radio Jammin

2011-07-20T17:24:43Z

The year 1983 must have been a crazy time to be a black teenager. Michael Jackson was blowing up big time, whether it was rocking that ultra-fresh red zipper jacket in the "Beat It" video or slaying millions of Americans with his "Billie Jean" performance on the Motown 25 broadcast. Prince was creepin' up, too, thanks to his coyly suggestive "Little Red Corvette" and 1999. Lionel Richie got love, too, even if "All Night Long (All Night)" was kinda corny. Luther Vandross was still making post-disco hits with a fury, from his own "I'll Let You Slide" to producing Aretha Franklin's "Get It Right." The funk was still strong, whether it was George Clinton's massive "Atomic Dog" or The Gap Band's nonstop "Party Train."

In retrospect, the year seems so exhilarating and confusing. Yes, the synthesizer ruled the charts, leading critics like Nelson George to declare it "the death of rhythm and blues." But what about electro stars like Afrika Bambaataa and the Jonzun Crew? Hell, what about David Bowie's "Let's Dance," The Human League's "(Keep Feeling) Fascination" and Madonna's "Holiday"? Incredibly, all this stuff found a home on Billboard's Black Singles chart (which wasn't retitled R&B/Hip-Hop Singles until years later). There was even space for the odd novelty jam like Sexual Harrassment's "I Need a Freak."

]]> Peabo Bryson and Anita Baker would share heavy rotation with funk vets like Cameo, and then both would cede ground to younger hip-hop and R&B stars like Run-DMC, New Edition and Janet Jackson. Michael Jackson, Lionel Richie, Prince and Kool & the Gang epitomized the industry's big '80s crossover moment. Meanwhile, the era's delirious experimentation, and the chance to hear a quirky electro instrumental like Cybotron's "Clear" on a late-night mix show, quickly dissipated.

But that's another story. As for 1983 itself, the year included so many great tunes that this list encompasses over 70 tracks and nearly six hours of old-school madness. Apologies to those that didn't make the cut, including Freeze ("I.O.U."), Royal Cash ("Radio Activity"), Melba Moore ("Keeping My Lover Satisfied") and dozens of others.

Click here to listen to the entire playlist: Senior Year, 1983: Black Radio Jammin.

Dilated Peoples, Expansion Team

2011-07-18T11:00:35Z

Dilated's second album on Capitol, Expansion Team finds the Los Angeles crew enlisting the help of various New York City all-stars. Juju, Premier, and the Beatminerz all contribute quality beats. Babu handles the decks and Rakka and Evidence continue to spew venom on the mic. Standouts include "Panic," "Pay Attention," and the lead single "Worst Comes To Worst." —Brolin Winning

Hear It Now!

Rap Is Not Pop: 2Pac's Early Years

2011-07-13T23:29:26Z

Click here to listen to 2Pac's Early Years playlist

Tupac Shakur would've turned 40 on June 16 this year. His birthday did not go unnoticed. Members of the Shakur family, event promoters and fans held honorary parties across the country that day; meanwhile, Meek Mill's "Tupac Back," the lead single from Rick Ross' Maybach Music Group compilation Self-Made, briefly lit up the Internet. And a day before 2Pac's birthday, a man serving life in prison named Dexter Isaac told allhiphop.com that he was paid by former record executive Jimmy "The Henchman" Rosemond to rob the rapper during what became the infamous 1994 Quad Studios shooting. Taken together, it all amounted to the most 2Pac discussion in years.

Perhaps the birthday is what prompted Universal Music Group to digitally re-release 2Pac's early Interscope recordings in June. There isn't much left to say about a mythological figure who has generated conspiracy theories, academic books and a cottage industry of bootlegs since his 1996 death. But his first three albums, along with the Thug Life compilation and the post-mortem collection R U Still Down? (Remember Me), deserve new scrutiny. This era is often summarized as 2Pac's "conscious" period, before he "signed a deal with the devil" at Death Row (as his mother, Afeni Shakur, once put it). But the records themselves aren't as straightforward.

]]> 2Pacalypse Now sounded in 1991. 2Pac was then best known for his goofy verse on Digital Underground's 1990 hit single "Same Song" ("Now I clown around when I hang around with the Underground"), and for dressing up like Shock G's alter-ego Humpty Hump at D.U. concerts. That left little preparation for the murderous raps on display here: on "Soulja's Story," a spin on Public Enemy's "Black Steel in the Hour of Chaos," he imagined himself as a "young black male" that sells weed and "drops a cop" that harasses him, and also embodied a younger brother who attempts to break his sibling out of Sing Sing, only to get killed during the ensuing prison riot. "I Don't Give a F*ck" and "Violent" threw so many accusations and threats at Oakland police that it ensured 2Pac a lifetime of police harassment and public condemnation by then-Vice President Dan Quayle: "If this is violence, then violent's what I gotta be/ If you investigate, you'll find out where it's coming from/ Look through our history, America's the violent one."

Even back then, 2Pac's public image diverged from his actual content. Mainstream-rap fans who probably never heard the poor-selling 2Pacalypse Now in its entirety hailed him as a "conscious" artist and inheritor of the Black Panther tradition on the strength of the record's two breakout singles. On the maudlin "Brenda's Got a Baby," he spun a tragedy about a teenage incest victim (alongside overwrought backing vocals from future star Dave Hollister); on "If My Homie Calls," he promised lifelong friendship to his childhood buddies, sounding buoyant amid the album's gritty (albeit frequently plodding) Bomb Squad-inspired beats. It was a different era: black politics and social realism were a dominant aesthetic in 1991 hip-hop, much as conspicuous consumption, hunger for celebrity and grossly exaggerated crime exploits epitomize hip-hop in 2011. No one thought 2Pac had the makings of a great artist after 2Pacalypse Now, but they appreciated his halting efforts at describing harsh conditions in Oakland's ghettoes.

His 1993 follow-up, Strictly 4 My N.I.G.G.A.Z., wasn't much of a leap forward, either, but it included two Top 15 pop hits, "I Get Around" and "Keep Ya Head Up." These are justifiably two of his best-loved songs, with the former representing 2Pac in a randy and playful mood, and the latter casting him as a melancholy yet hopeful father. The rest of the album is problematic. He still took aim at the cops, asking, "Who's the biggest gang in the city?" on "Souljah's Revenge." On "Point the Finga," he references the controversy surrounding 2Pacalypse Now, claiming that he "brought a little truth to the young troops" by suggesting they get guns and fight back against racism and police brutality.

But generally uneven songwriting and sonic clutter -- not his message -- held him back. The East Coast style of sharply swinging beats, hard drums and vocal snippets still held sway on the West Coast in early 1993, if only because artists hadn't yet responded to Dr. Dre's G-funk blueprint The Chronic, released the previous November. Recorded in '92, the noisy Strictly 4 My N.I.G.G.A.Z. already seemed dated when its first single, "Holler If Ya Hear Me," lit up BET's Rap City show. More importantly, 2Pac seemed a poor fit for the Public Enemy model of news commentary and racial protest. Ice Cube and his production crew the Boogiemen (who produced "Last Wordz") found more success adapting that style to West Coast mores by emphasizing the Funkadelic over the noise. Cube was an observer and a satirist, someone who could retell old stories and sometimes poke fun at his friends and family struggling to survive in Compton's streets.

Whereas 2Pac's greatest subject was himself. The crazier his life got — from shooting an off-duty police officer to allegedly initiating a gang rape of a woman with his friends — the better his music became. As his legal issues mounted and his public image grew ignominious, national opinion sharply divided on his motivations, his guilt or innocence, and whether he was a true black revolutionary or, to paraphrase arts critic Armond White's disparaging book on 2Pac's life, simply a "rebel for the hell of it." Amid the debate, his music became a safe place where he could explain himself without reportorial filters, turning his listeners into voyeurs who tried to intuit his rhymes as potential admissions of guilt. His youngest fans surely found a hero, a man whose ultimately tragic maturation into adulthood mirrored their own fitful adolescence.

It's possible, as some fans suggest, that 2Pac shifted his focus from confrontational black politics to gangsta rap due to pressure from Interscope Records. Many artists lost label deals during these years because of inflammatory images and lyrics speaking against the police and government, including Ice-T, KMD and Paris (whose song "Bush Killa" got him kicked off Tommy Boy). Inarguably, though, 2Pac's albums improved exponentially over the course of his life.

2Pac's 1994 Thug Life project is usually dismissed as another lame posse record, its clumsy symbolism notwithstanding (T.H.U.G. L.I.F.E. was an acronym for The Hate U Gave Little Infants F*cks Everybody). Yet Volume 1 is the first to suggest the benefits of becoming G-funk's signature outlaw. (Many of its tracks were also used for the platinum-selling soundtrack to Above the Rim, a basketball film in which he co-starred.) "Sh*t Don't Stop" is the kind of gangsta party record he'd master on All Eyez on Me. The excellent "Pour Out a Little Liquor" marked his first collaboration with the late producer Johnny "J," who assisted on the rapper's infamous Makaveli sessions. Interspersed between plodding contributions from his Thug Life crew (they'd be much more useful in their second incarnation as The Outlawz), 2Pac achieved an honest, plainspoken delivery that proved widely influential.

The following year's Me Against the World was recorded in the months between his conviction on the aforementioned sexual-assault charges and his imprisonment, the first rap album to serve as a pre-incarceration "farewell letter." Unlike later examples of this somewhat perverse mini-genre (see T.I.'s Paper Trail and C-Murder's The Truest Sh*t I Ever Said), 2Pac didn't use the occasion to re-argue his case. The name-calling against the Notorious B.I.G. and Sean "Diddy" Combs, whom he accused (along with Jacques "Haitian Jack" Agnant and Jimmy Rosemond) of setting him up during the Quad Studios shooting, came after Death Row Records bailed him out of jail in late 1995, pending his appeal.

With so much drama and violence having occurred, and much more to come, Me Against the World sounded like an oasis, and a brief period for 2Pac to reflect on his mess of a life. "So Many Tears" and "It Ain't Easy" are elegiac and remorseful, while "If I Die 2Nite" and "Lord Knows" found him fearful for his sanity and his life. So why, at album's end, does he choose to be an "Outlaw," and praise an 11-year-old boy for making a similar choice? "They'll remember me through history/ Causing motherf*ckers to bleed," he raps. "My only thought is open fire/ Hit the district attorney/ And f*ck that b*tch cause she's a liar."

Ultimately, it's easier to relate to 2Pac as an artist than justify some of the personal decisions he made. On 2Pacalypse Now, he offered "Part Time Mutha," a stinging indictment of Afeni's struggles with crack addiction. Yet by Me Against the World, he returned with "Dear Mama": "Even as a crack fiend mama/ You were always a black queen mama." There was little peace in his life, but he found it in his words.