Recently in Sam Chennault Category

Wu's Iron Chef returned in 2009 with a sequal to his classic 1995 album, Only Built for Cuban Linx. Despite the naysayers and haters, the Chef did not dissapoint, giving us a slew of gritty tales of the crack game told over dusty soul loops. Rhapsody recently caught up with Rae and spoke with him about his new album as well as his upcoming collaboration with Method Man and Ghostface.

Over the past decade, hip-hop and R&B have become the musical equivalent of peanut butter and jelly. When R&B was looking for direction in the '90s, it turned to hip-hop's thundering bombast, and when hip-hop began falling from grace this decade, it adopted R&B’s sexy swoon. And though genre purists from both sides have cried foul, this cross-pollination has resulted in some great music. In honor of this week’s release of the T.I./Mary J. Blige single "Remember Me," Rhapsody has picked the 10 greatest R&B/hip-hop duets of the past decade.

The sound of L.A. group Sa-Ra Creative Partners is hard to pin down. Their brand of psych urban music straddles the line between funk, soul and hip-hop. It references Funkadelic, Prince, Sly & the Family Stone and J Dilla, but ultimately the music manages to sound like nothing you've ever heard. It's jerky electro, ethereal hip-hop and secular gospel. It's beautiful music that is, at times, difficult to listen to. Consisting of (from left, in photo at left) Om'Mas Keith, Taz Arnold, and Shafiq Husayn, the group became darlings of the underground in 2005 with a series of 12-inches and remixes. They released their debut album, The Hollywood Recordings, in 2007, and followed up this year with Nuclear Evolution: The Age of Love. In that time, an entire echo-system of psychedelic soul acts sprang up, but Sa-Ra remain at the forefront. Even if you haven't heard of the group, it's likely that your favorite artist has. The trio has worked with Erykah Badu, Kanye West, Dr. Dre and John Legend, among many others. In fact, Keith is currently serving as Diddy's musical director.

We recently caught up with Om'Mas Keith. By chance, we spoke with him on the afternoon of June 25, just when the news of Michael Jackson's death was reported. We discussed Jackson's influence on the group, as well as a wide range of subjects including Thelonious Monk's funeral, Keith's father, the group's future, and the influence of Sly and the Family Stone.

From left: Young Jeezy, Lil Wayne, Drake

Hip-hop tours are always a bit of a crap-shoot. For every beyond-belief blockbuster like last year's Jay-Z/Mary J. Blige tour, you have a debacle like the '97 Wu-Tang Clan/Rage Against the Machine rampage, where our favorite Shaolin warriors seemed more interested in visiting local jail cells than in performing music for sold-out crowds. More recently, Lil Wayne's  traveling adventures have included arrests for everything from cocaine possession to weapons charges. But, lord willing and cops permitting, this summer looks like a monster for hip-hop live shows. We have the Rock the Bells Tour featuring Nas, Talib Kweli, Wu Tang and Slaughterhouse among others, as well as the Jay-Z/Ciara tour that is already well under way. But perhaps the elephant in the room is Weezy's monster America’s Most Wanted AKA Young Money tour featuring Weezy F., Drake, Young Jeezy and Soulja Boy. Over 21 days, Weezy and crew will scour the continent, playing everywhere from Scranton, Penn., to Edmonton, Canada (you can check complete dates here). And though it’s an open question whether these guys can stay out of trouble (Drake should be safe), we already have a pretty good indication of what kind of live show they put on. Below you’ll find our exclusive and all-inclusive tour guide.

Jordin Sparks is, in many ways, the epitome of the American Idol dream. In the two short years since winning, she's released a successful debut that spawned two Top 10 hits (including "No Air," her smash duet with Chris Brown), toured with big-name acts like Alicia Keys and the Jonas Brothers (with whom she's currently on the road) and even performed for two presidents! Now she's releasing her sophomore album, Battlefield, which premiered on Rhapsody last Tuesday and drops everywhere else next week. When she recently sat down with us to talk about how far she's come, we discovered that, despite her success, Sparks is still very much the sweet Arizona girl she was before she became a household name.

There’s something irresistible about two middle-age, over-the-hill pop superstars quibbling about a nearly decade-old affair. The feud began in 2001 when the two had a short-lived affair, the extent of which remains a point of disagreement to this day. Regardless of whether it was a fleeting kiss (as Mariah has posited) or a torrid affair (as Eminem insists), it soon took on a life of its own when Eminem made the affair public in a Rolling Stone interview, stating that though Mariah was a “beautiful woman,” she “didn’t have it all together.” Mariah retaliated later that year with the thinly veiled diss track “Clown.” During an appearance on Larry King: “I hung out with him, I spoke to him on the phone. I think I was probably with him a total of four times. And I don’t consider that dating somebody.” Eminem then got his revenge at the 2003 MTV Movie Awards when he took a swipe at Mariah’s ill-fated movie Glitter. After that incident, the dispute remained relatively quiet for a couple of years until 2005 when Eminem aired what was supposedly voice mails from Mariah Carey asking Em to leave his wife for her. Mariah denied that it was her, and even threatened defamation charges.

It’s not entirely accurate to say that DJ Quik is underrated. Ask any hip-hop head who are the best producers off the West Coast, and Quik usually occupies the second slot (behind the good Doctor, of course). But the Compton producer had the misfortune of emerging before the era of the superstar producer, and thus he’s not exactly a household name outside hip-hop circles, though he's not without his commercial accomplishments. He produced for Pac, Snoop, Dre and Jay-Z. And his own '91 debut, Quik Is the Name, is a seminal G-funk album and went platinum.

Forget baseball, politics, apple pie or a vague disdain for the corporate aristocracy, the element that binds American society together in an increasingly atomized post-millennial milieu is the Summer Jam. Think Jay-Z, Rihanna, Outkast or Beyonce. Think the moon landing, except with more sex, better hooks and less Nixon. It's the alpha and omega of pop music -- bigger than big and blasting out of ever car stereo, club speaker, poolside radio and computer headphone. Who’s going to put the bump in your trunk this year? Here are our picks for the contenders.

In the last Blunted on the Blog entry, I talked about the new generation of multicultural beat CDs that have grown in popularity in the second half of this decade and have, for the most part, overtaken the sprawling hip-hop epics (think Endtroducing ..... and all its successors) that have traditionally defined the instrumental hip-hop genre. Specifically, I focused on French producer Onra and his 2008 release, Chinoiseries. But, looking back on it, I probably got a bit ahead of myself and should retrace the history of how these type of beat tapes became en vogue.

As with most trends in underground hip-hop for the past five or so years, the phenomenon began indirectly with J Dilla and his 2006 release, Donuts. Dilla has always been one of the most stylistically adventurous producers in hip-hop, flipping between the warm, jazzy boom bap of his earlier years to the colder, more forceful electro of his middle period. But Donuts -- in its fractured, ADD glory -- presented the producer at his most naked. Culled from a series of beat CDs that had been circulating for some time, most of the songs on Donuts are little more than sketches. No song touches the two-minute mark, and a few barely even progress beyond simple loops. Though fragments, they collectively offer an intensely personal meditation on the soul music that dominated Dilla’s childhood in Detroit.

When I interviewed Dilla's mother, Ma Dukes, for a 2006 feature we did on the life of her son, she told me that as a child, he rarely slept. At night, the only way a young Dilla would go under was if his father hummed basslines to popular soul songs. I know that this is projecting my own narrative, but I can’t help but feel that Donuts, which was literally recorded on Dilla’s deathbed, added a certain symmetry to his life.

But really, I digress. I didn’t want to talk about Dilla as much as his influence: Donuts shifted the direction of instrumental hip-hop. It demonstrated that a beat tape can be a proper release; after Donuts, the new generation of instrumental hip-hop CDs seemed more naturalistic and less affected. His influence not only can be felt in the music of Onra, but it also allowed his Stones Throw labelmates Madlib and Oh No to pursue their own visions. You can especially hear his influence in Flying Lotus, whose 2008 CD Los Angeles was -- structurally at least -- a throwback to the more tightly structured instrumental hip-hop CDs.

Next time we'll try to get around to some of Oh No's releases.

Peep out all the Blunted on the Blog entries.



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Asher Roth, Asleep in the Bread Aisle

Breakout single "I Love College" celebrates a middle class, chemically induced naivete, as if contentment and maybe even transcendence can be chugged, blazed or shagged. And, who knows, maybe Roth is onto something. The song is an undoubtedly catchy, sublimely inspired bit of pot-cult ephemera (and probably the soundtrack to your next keg-stand), but Roth does seem a bit silly (or cynical) when he expresses his desire to "go to college for the rest of my life." Still, Roth is more than a novelty -- but just barely. He has a flat whine for a flow, but he puns and juggles his syllables adeptly, even if his stabs at pathos ("His Dream") are laughable. He's best when he's rapping with a smirk, even if you kinda want to knock it off his face.

(Hip-Hop's 100 Non-Essential Tracks is a regular feature highlighting the genre's greatest overlooked and/or forgotten tracks. Click here for all entries.)

The toilet. In Duchamp’s hands, it transformed the art world, forever muddling the relationship between sign and signifier. The King of Rock 'n' Roll found it a suitable final resting place, a gateway between Graceland and the pearly gates. But for perpetually stoned H-Town rapper Devin the Dude, the bathroom represents a small, smelly fortress of solitude, an escape from the daily drudgery of life: the expectations of chatter-happy baby mamas, the high volume of straining masculinity and the half-baked plots of felonious friends. As Devin’s sluggish flow relaxes over the slow, spidery Southern soul like a cat in sunlight, he informs a too-cluttered world, “When you finish crowing, or whatever the f*ck it is you’re doing, holla at me, I’ll be in the bathroom -- boo boo'n.”

Play "Boo Boo'n'"

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More so than other types of music, hip-hop is a genre of debuts. At its best, the music moves quickly, and fans are constantly awaiting the next game-changer, the latest and greatest emcee or producer to create (and erase) history. We’ve compiled our picks for the 30 best hip-hop debuts. A quick ground rule: the debuts listed served as the artists’ introduction to a larger public audience, so we’re not listing albums by emcees who were members of popular hip-hop groups (e.g. no Scarface, Ice Cube, Dre, GZA, etc…). Other than that, have fun with this and don’t get too cross-eyed about it. Feel free to leave your comments and let us know what we missed. Click here to see the list.
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Old Dirty Bastard upon his release from prison in 2003.

(Hip-Hop's 100 Non-Essential Tracks is a regular feature highlighting the genre's greatest overlooked and/or forgotten tracks. Click here for all entries. )

Have you ever found yourself in a public place, say a supermarket, and suddenly you're struck with the urge to shriek out something completely, unforgivably repulsive, but rather than blurt some non sequitur about midgets and water balloons you take a deep breath, put the carrots in the cart and keep it moving? For most ordinary people, ignoring these urges is essential. But Ol' Dirty Bastard isn't ordinary. The Wu Tang Clan emcee made a career out of channeling his inner-crazy, and listening to the Wu-Tang's finest is like playing a game of Russian roulette: you never know when he's going to pop off and lose it. This is true of almost any of his songs, but "I Can't Wait" is perhaps the point where the signal-to-crazy ratio really tips the scales. In the first 30 seconds, he christens himself "Big Baby Jesus" and threatens to bring on Armageddon while mysteriously alluding to the "ThighMaster." Later, he chides fellow emcees for using the word "napkin," launches into a screed about healthcare and asks an unidentified female to take off her shoes. He ends the song with an extended shout out to, among others, the "Eskimos," the "munchkins," Suge Knight and "the army, air force, navy and marines/ know what I'm saying?" Not really, Dirt, but we'll always love you.

Follow RhapsodyHipHop on Twitter for all the latest hip-hop news, tunes and reviews.

Dylan, Charlton Heston and Bill Clinton discuss duplicitous women, old testament liquor, the imminent apocalypse and single-payer health care.

With its jazzbo shuffle, trumpet shots and grinding gypsy accordion (courtesy of Los Lobos’ David Hidalgo), “Beyond Here Lies Nothing” is dirty - the kind of hardboiled border blues that marries the Chi-Town fixation of Dylan’s recent output with his 70s Southwest fixation. The sound is so compelling, and the atmosphere so thick, that Dylan’s love-struck tale of “broken cars” amid the “mountains of the past” seems like little more than a gritty, desolate garnish.

For a limited time only (like, today, Monday, March 30, 2009) you can download this song for free right here.

With its apocalyptic overtures and hints of 3 A.M., dead-drunk dread, “Dinosauria, We” (the spoken-word bit that opens up MF DOOM’s “Cellz”) is prototypical Charles Bukowski. “Radiated robot men” roam the streets where the “sun is masked.” “Mrs. Death laughs” and “the chosen watch from space platforms.” Rivers vanish. Bodies rot. The rain stops. And, somewhere, the poet’s lines dissolve into spurts of syllables: “Castrated/ Debauched/ Disinherited/ Because of this/ Fooled by this/ Used by this/ Pissed on by this/ Made crazy and sick by this/ Made violent/ Made inhuman.”

It’s prophecy mired in hallucinogenic pop-culture references -- dime-store, sci-fi nihilism doubled over by bare-knuckle linguistic stunts. It’s pure Bukowski, but it's also pure DOOM. “Revelations in Braille” reveal realms of “smelly gel fume.” Nations fail, and blazing swords praise the lord as our masked supervillain can be found “Sittin' in the kitchen/ Pissin'/ Twitchin'/ Kissin' steel lead.” DOOM has always positioned his low-cult kitsch as dramatic divination, despite his hemorrhage of stray images that warps meaning for sound. But somehow, a message emerges: DOOM is back. Hide the women and children. 

Play "Cellz"

Over the past two years, Flo Rida rose from obscurity and quickly established himself as one of hip-hop's most commercially viable artists. If you've been to a club in the past 16 months, you've probably danced to one of his songs. Mr. Rida has owned the digital music realm as well. "Low," his hit collaboration with T-Pain, sold upwards of 500,000 MP3s in a single week, more than any song in the history of pop music. Earlier this year, he broke his own record when "Right Round" was downloaded 636,000 times. His success is a testament to his talent. With an ever-pliable flow, the Florida emcee traverses his tracks' ever-shifting rhythms, while using his knack for melody to ensure a primal, immediate dancefloor decadence. It's both sinister and sexy, and it makes for irresistible pop music. In celebration of Rhapsody's premiere of his sophomore album, R.O.O.T.S., we're offering a one-stop Flo Rida guide. Listen to his new songs, check out a photo gallery featuring some of hip-hop's most muscular leading men, and read about his thoughts in an exclusive interview.

LISTEN: Hear Flo Rida's new album, R.O.O.T.S., exclusively on Rhapsody.

BROWSE: Check out our exclusive Q&A with Flo Rida. .

EXPLORE: Check out Rhapsody's Essential Florida Hip-Hop Albums.

ROCK THE RADIO: Hear Flo Rida and other anthems on our station of hits, In Da Club.

LOOK: Check out Flo and other hulking heartthrobs our Muscle Men of Hip Hop gallery.

LISTEN: Turn it up and play the definitive playlist of Top 100 Hip-Hop Club Tracks.

In the daze I’ve been in since quitting smoking a few weeks ago, I’ve been attempting to see life in softer, fuzzier tones. I've been suppressing the "fight or flight" instinct, which focuses me on individual tasks (i.e. smoking) in favor of a more open-ended approach where the world is a pastiche with a multitude of possible story lines (only one of which involves getting nicotine into your body).

Xanax helps, as does instrumental hip-hop. Since the last time I gave this subgenre any real attention, which was the last time I tried to quit smoking about two years ago, there has been a quiet transformation in the medium. Largely gone are the sprawling epics -- the carefully sequenced long players that DJ Shadow used to be known for. They’ve been replaced by CDs that are effectively beat tapes -- the rough, demo sketches that hip-hop producers used to send to prospective rappers. And, more often than not, these have tended to focus on a particular genre or theme.

If Endtroducing..... took itself deadly serious, then the new generation of instrumental discs are more likely to be one-off larks: Vietnamese pop filtered through the lens of Brooklyn boom bap, or Mediterranean psychedelia looped over a '70s soul breakbeat. Though there are some notable exceptions, gone is the “cinematic soundscape” of Endtroducing..... or RJD2's Dead Ringer, and “in” is lo-fi hip-hop’s multicultural renaissance.

The first album I’d like to talk about is Chinoiseries, from French beat chef Onra. Honestly, I’m not too familiar with him, but this 2008 album has been on pretty constant rotation. Culled largely from Vietnamese pop that Onra found while scavenging that country’s flea markets, Chinoiseries alternates between head-nodding hip-hop beats and the hypnotic strings and wiry, mysterious vocals of his hiss-laden sample material. As a craftsman, Onra is clearly indebted to the Stones Throw crew -- although, in general, I don’t think he’s on their level -- but there’s something eerily beautiful about the music here. “Last Tango in Saigon” sounds like the denouement of the saddest noir film ever, while “Relax in Mui Ne” is sublime dentist office music. The album is haunting, and the language barrier only adds to the music’s mystery and durability.

Over the coming weeks, I’ll periodically post different albums similar to Chinoiseries. Next week, we’ll look at the albums coming from the Stones Throw clique. Just check for the Blunted on the Blog tag, and feel free to drop a line.

Song: Love Lockdown
Album: 808s and Heartbreak
Artist: Kanye West
Selected by: Sam Chennault
Date: January 14, 2009

Kanye West abandons his arena hip-hop template for smooth emo noir built off Taiko drums, Auto-Tune and heartbreak.

We asked some of our favorite musicians to tell us about some of their favorite artists, songs and moments from 2008. Here's what auto-tuned R&B sensation T-Pain had to say about the year in music.

Why Your Album Deserves To Be In Year End Best Lists
I really don’t know. A lot of good albums came out this year. You get me. Everybody hearing all the hits I’m making for everyone. The hooks that I’m doing and the concepts I’m coming up with. It’s an album of that.

FREE MP3 DOWNLOAD: San Quinn, "Devotion"

The Bay Area hip-hop scene is among the most compartmentalized in the nation. There are hundreds if not thousands of young producers, rappers and promoters who manage to make a decent living without ever having to leave Northern California.  In this vast, thriving and largely underground scene, San Quinn is a legend. He started out in the early '90s with fellow SF emcee JT the Bigga Figga and has continued to be a major player ever since -- first as a young rapper on the Priority label and then independently under his Done Deal label. Over those 16 years, Quinn has had his hand in nearly every major hip-hop movement to come out of the Bay. He terse flow and gruff voice are instantly recognizable, and his finely detailed vignettes on life in San Francisco’s Fillmore district are among the most compelling narrative raps to emerge from the West Coast. His most recent album, From a Boy to a Man, continues in this fine tradition. Quinn has also been fortunate to score one of the biggest hits of his career this fall with “SF Anthem.”  We recently sat down with the legend to discuss life, art and Bay Area pride.

More than perhaps any other modern R&B performer, T-Pain understands that today’s artist is best viewed as a spectacle -- and that the spectacle is art. Witness his entrance to this year’s MTV Video Music Awards on elephants; or his Rhapsody pre-VMA party where the man born Faheem Rasheed Najm was flanked by mimes that looked like rejects from an Insane Clown Posse casting call. Even his singing voice is a novelty that borders on gimmick. The stringy robotic affections of auto-tune at once set the singer apart from the R&B flock, and also grant him a mechanic’s anonymity, giving the effect of a musical mask. It is singular and universal, and it also sounds pretty damn dope when you’re lost somewhere on the Sunset Strip at 3 a.m.

We caught up with the Tallahassee singer one late Saturday night in September as he was preparing to take the stage. As his wont, T-Pain was worried that the audience didn’t really want T-Pain since the opening DJ was rocking electronic beats. “If I had Daft Punk DJ in front of me, I’d feel a little less nervous right now,” he admitted, before adding, “Daft Punk holla at your boy T-Pain. If you did it with Kanye, you can do it with me.” In our brief but revealing conversation, he explained the concept for his new album, exclaimed his love for neo-soul and Roger Troutman, and spoke on upcoming projects such as T-Pain Is Dead and T-Wayne.

Detroit rapper Black Milk is one of the most promising young producers in hip-hop. He grew up with the generation that saw J Dilla as a model. Though it's unfair to call Black Milk a Dilla clone, there are several stylistic similarities between the two. So, since Dilla's passing in early 2006, hip-hop devotees have tried to anoint Milk the heir to his throne. He didn't disappoint. Popular Demand dropped in 2007 and was a revelation. Sparse, lo-fi and sublime, it cemented Black Milk's reputation as a master of hard drums and soulful hip-hop. 2008's Tronic further expanded on his palette, pulling from pop, neo-soul and revivalist boom bap. It also showcased Black’s skills as an emcee. Recently, Rhapsody caught up with the Detroit producer to talk about his acclaimed new album as well as some of his future projects.

[Click the "Continue Reading..." link to listen to a playlist featuring the music discussed in this post.]

Count me among those who’ve been skeptical of the continued artistic relevance of indie/underground hip-hop in 2008. There is still a lot of great talent on the scene, both in terms of vets (Murs, Madlib, DOOM, Jean Grae) and rookies (Blu, Black Milk, Pac Div, Blue Scholars), but barely any decent new music was released in the first eight months of the year. The only indie hip-hop album with any replay value was Jean Grae’s Jenius, which was recorded three years prior. And then September hit.

[Click the "Continue Reading..." link to listen to a playlist featuring the music discussed in this post.]

(Photo: Ali Anne) 

For the most part, the term “one-hit wonder” is used pejoratively. As they say in the South, even a blind squirrel can find an acorn, and we generally believe that this is true in pop music. One-hit wonders are flukes, flashes in the pan that take a back seat to career artists. This isn’t fair, of course. Some of the best songs of the past 40 years have been produced by so-called one-hit wonders. Their music is, by and large, unencumbered by the pretenses of legacy. It’s looser, more prone to novelty and gimmickry. From old-school classics such as Jean Knight’s “Mr. Big Stuff” and The Larks' beautiful “The Jerk”  to disco and funk jams such as Anita Ward’s “Ring My Bell” and E.U.’s wonderful “Da Butt,” this music is fun and carefree. And, what’s better, the acts didn’t stick around long enough to wear out their welcome. They never matured, never changed and never slipped into self-parody. In the mind of the listening public, they are ephemeral and ageless, the pop music equivalent of Dorian Gray. Let the Rolling Stones tour until their Depends get squishy; Musical Youth will forevermore be in their early teens, passing the dutchie to the left-hand side. And there is also no cult of personality surrounding them. They never substituted celebrity for music because few of these would ever be considered celebrities. What you hear here is pop music in its purest form.

Further Listening:
Playlist: One-Hit Wonder, the Urban Music Edition

Los Angeles' Blu is one of the most promising young emcees on the West Coast indie hip-hop scene. Over a 14-month span from 2007 to 2008, he released three full-length projects -- each under a different moniker and each featuring, exclusively, a different producer. The first, and most widely praised, was his collaboration with L.A. producer Exile, Below the Heavens. Exile's work recalled the jazzy, lo-fi hip-hop of early Rawkus Records, while Blu's rhymes were introspective, personal and confessional.  But unlike emo-rappers, Blu rarely cast himself as the victim, preferring to relate his life in events and not emotions. It's the same formula formerly used by Common and Talib Kweli, and comparisons were even drawn to Nas' seminal debut album, Illmatic.

Blu followed this up in 2008 with an album from his group C.R.A.C., which included up-and-coming producer Ta'Raach. The Piece Talks ditched the raw hip-hop palette of Heavens in favor of forays into psych, soul, electro, rock and all points in between. Next, Blu formed Johnson and Jonson with producer Mainframe. The self-titled album, released last month, once again pushed the creative envelope, though it was more playful and ostensibly less experimental. For this exclusive Rhap Session, Blu discusses his sudden ascent, the Johnson and Jonson album and his future plans.

[Click the "Continue Reading..." link to listen to a playlist featuring the music discussed in this post.]

It’s tempting to say that Raphael Saadiq’s new album, The Way I See It is a musical stunt designed to ride the current wave of late '60s/early '70s funk-soul nostalgia. After all, the album does liberally mine a classic sound, taking bits and pieces (often-times verbatim) from the playbooks of Eddie Kendricks, Otis Redding, Marvin Gaye and others. This particular brand of nostalgia is hardly new: Sharon Jones, Nicole Willis and Nino Moschella have made looking back chic for underground audiences, while Amy Winehouse, Joss Stone and Duffy made it profitable. But though you’d be forgiven for being cynical of Saadiq’s timing, it’s awfully hard to hate on the music. From Saadiq’s pleading lyrics to the quivering strings, organ swells and bouncy basslines, the music here is heavenly. It extricates hip-hop, R&B, disco, electro, polyrhythmic funk and all points in between, leaving the listener with droopy, love-struck soul. It's not so much a gimmick as a transformation, and listening to The Way I See It is like staring at a newborn. You can’t help but smile. We recently caught up with Saadiq and spoke with the man about his new album, his musical heroes and his future collaborations.

by Sam Chennault

In conjunction with his widely praised VMA performance, and in support of his upcoming single, the minimalist blast of auto-tuned despair entitled “Love Lockdown,” Kanye West unveiled his latest post-9/11, situationalist performance art piece today, “Arrest at LAX.” Other artists (Sean Pean and Britney come to mind) have explored similar themes of surveillance, anonymity and resistance within the modern media environment, but Kanye takes it one step further. Notice that in addition to the initial still photographer that he "attacks," there is another video cameraman lingering in the background,  thus negating Kanye's struggle and elevating the piece's themes to Sisyphean proportions.  And, of course, the coup de grace is that all of this is set at an airport, Bush's shadowy hub of dehumanization, and on the seventh anniversary of the 9/11 terrorist attacks. This touch adds an extra layer, making this more than a mere commentary on the tribulations of celebrity, but rather a meditation on our country's loss of personal autonomy and privacy. All in all, nicely played, Kanye West.

Further Viewing:
Kanye Gets Arrested [TMZ.com]

Further Reading:
Kanye New LP Title, Release Date Listed Online [MTVNews.com]

by Sam Chennault

The hip-hop world buzzed yesterday about the revelation from Olympic gold medalist/new national icon Michael Phelps listens to Lil’ Wayne before his swim meets. (The admission comes just before the minute mark in the above video.) But, really, this is only surprising for those of us who expected Phelps to sustain himself on binaural transmissions via his aqua-men overlords. After all, who doesn’t listen to Lil’ Wayne in 2008?  Barack does. When I visited my 83-year-old grandmother last month, I caught her singing “A Milli” while knitting an afghan and sipping Ovaltine. The only thing strange here is that our new pop laureate is a syrup-addled rat-boy whose lyrics read like hydrogen-jukebox stream of consciousness meets Richard Pryor in the V.I.P. room of Magic City. After spending the '90s sweating alien invasion, it’s as if we’ve collectively said, “Screw it, bring on the martians.” But I digress. It’s nice to know that Phelps is a little like us, and more importantly, we’re all a little like Mike.

Further Listening: Michael Phelps' Rhapsody Playlist

by Sam Chennault

John Legend and Estelle thread pop’s past with its future. Over the past five years, Legend has emerged as one of pop’s most talented and popular young stars. His refined take on neo-soul borrows as much from the classic pop of Burt Bacharach as it does the '70s soul boogie of Stevie Wonder, and hits “Save Room” and “Ordinary People” are sweet lovers' lullabies that will haunt Valentines Day for years to come. Given the elegance and versatility of his music, it’s little surprise that the first signee to his fledgling HomeSchool label is the talented and eclectic U.K. emcee/chanteuse Estelle. Originally hailed as the Brit's answer to Lauryn Hill, Estelle stepped out of that shadow this year with her critically acclaimed stateside debut, Shine. With contributions from Wyclef, Cee-Lo, Kanye and John Legend, the album is smart, polished and fun. After linking up for a chat with her and Legend, it’s obvious that Estelle’s music mirrors her personality.

by Sam Chennault

In Joan Didion's '87 mediation on Miami (still the best book about the city, in my estimation), the famed author portrays the city as an intercontinental way-station everyone flocks to but no one really belongs in. In her eyes, Miami is illusion, more of a costume than a city, which explains why it's a fun place to visit but a difficult one to live in. For the first few days, thereâ??s a sweaty, chemically induced fever rush of skin, liquor, sun and music; but after that, the mirage fades and you're left with littered street corners, greasy pizza shacks and the woozy after-effects of the libertine lifestyle. The heat becomes oppressive, the hard-bodies appear devilish, and the city's intense yet unfocused energy starts to singe. Still, for those first few sleepless nights and listless days, there's nothing as exciting as being in the Magic City.

by Sam Chennault

New York's Pete Rock is one of hip-hop’s most influential and respected artists. The Long Island native got his start in radio, during hip-hop’s “golden age,” working alongside the legendary producer Marley Marl on the beloved  radio show, In Control. In the early '90s, he reinvented the art of hip-hop sampling with his classic albums (Mecca & The Soul Brother and The Main Ingredient) with emcee C.L. Smooth. Since then, he’s worked with nearly every major emcee to come out of NYC in the past two decades, and he’s been cited as an influence by everyone from Kanye West to Pharrell Williams. His recent release, NY’s Finest, proves that he’s still got it. Appearing on this latest showcase of Rock’s beat acumen is a cast of emcees that includes Wu-Tang Clan, Little Brother and Papoose. Rhapsody recently got the legendary producer’s opinion on a variety of topics. 

by Sam Chennault

Even for those of us paid to pay attention, a piece of music occasionally comes along to sneak up and surprise us. That’s the case with R&B singer Raheem DeVaughn’s sophomore album, Love Behind the Melody. Not that his 2005 debut, The Love Experience, was a slouch; but Behind the Melody is a revelation of sorts, from it’s sultry sweet lead single, “Woman,” to the 21st century doo-wop charmer, “Friday (Shut the Club Down).” At once building on and transcending his neo-soul roots, Devaughn has created a lush album marked by impeccable phrasing, great hooks and a satisfying diversity. Rhapsody caught up with the budding star two days after the 2008 Grammy Awards, where “Woman” was nominated for Best Male R&B Vocal Performance, the morning after the latest in a long line of recording sessions.

by Sam Chennault

It’s not often that an emcees drop names like Picasso, Nietzsche, Basquiat and Cornel West in conversation, but Lupe Fiasco is that dude.

His debut full-length, 2006’s Food and Liquor, was a dazzling display of technical acumen, and one of the most humble and honest hip-hop albums in a minute. It was a blast of fresh air and solidified his status as one of his generation’s most promising emcees. His follow-up, The Cool, is even more ambitious and tracks the arc of a character named The Cool. It’s part Nathaniel Hawthorne, part Jay-Z, and is probably the most experimental hip-hop release of the year. Here, Lupe explains the in and outs of his brilliant new album.

by Sam Chennault

North Carolina hip-hop group Little Brother came out of the gate in 2002, with a debut called The Listening. That album paired the sunny, day-in-the-life-of-a-b-boy vignettes of rappers Big Pooh and Phonte, with the fruity-looped reinterpretations of hip-hop’s golden years by the producer 9^th Wonder. It caught on instantly, the equivalent of comfort food for hip-hop purists who found modern rap’s aesthetic disorienting and its lyrics alienating.

by Sam Chennault

In the first part of Rhapsody's exclusive interview with Wild Style director Charlie Ahearn, we discussed how the film came to pass. Here, Mr. Ahearn talks about the movie's impact and how it has been interpreted – and occasionally misrepresented – by a generation of hip-hop fanatics across the globe.

by Sam Chennault

Along with Henry Chalfant’s documentary Style Wars, Charlie Ahearn’s 1982 film Wild Style is the quintessential document of hip-hop’s formative years. Ironically, the film picks up just as the culture’s first phase was coming to an end. By ’82, New York authorities were beginning to curtail the art of subway graffiti, breakdancing was going out of fashion, and the legendary two-hour park jams were in the process of being paired down to the three-minute pop songs we now recognize as rap music. But Ahearn captures the culture in its original glory -- from the subway cars traveling across five boroughs, announcing new illegal masterpieces by the city’s talented and anonymous artists, to the stoop raps of the Cold Crush Brothers and Double Trouble. His film is both a reflection of what he hoped hip-hop could accomplish, and what we now imagine it was like back in the day. If you have even a passing interest in hip-hop’s roots, this film is indispensable.

by Sam Chennault

Seeing Rakim and Ghostface together in a small club in San Francisco is like catching Muhammad Ali and Mike Tyson sparring in a gym.  In one corner, you have one of the most celebrated rappers of the past decade, a man whose career includes a starring role in the Wu-Tang Clan and a string of solo albums that invariably find their way to the top of year-end, best-of lists. In the other, we have The God, a.k.a. Rakim Allah. Ever since he and his DJ partner Eric B. came out of Long Island with the 1986 hit “Paid in Full,” Rakim has provided the template for an entire generation of emcees. That song’s first lines helped define hip-hop for the next two decades: “Thinking of a master plan/Cuz ain’t nothing but sweat inside my hand.” It’s the age-old battle: ambition vs. poverty, with necessity proving the mother of artistic invention, and the desires and frustrations of a generation expressed through simple and effective lines. The thing about Rakim’s tracks is that they aren’t a woe-is-me vision of struggle, but rather a call for empowerment, an acknowledgment that self-determination, discipline and dedication are core, elemental values of the hip-hop generation. 

by Sam Chennault

Say what you want about Flava, but Chuck D never sold out and he never went soft. Listen to “Harder Than You Think” from Public Enemy’s most recent album. The song opens up with a Flava Flav rant that is recycled from 1996 bow “Public Enemy #1,” reminding listeners of the group’s history, before a blast of horns smothers the opening guitar figure. Chuck D comes out of the gate and dubs PE the “Rolling Stones of the rap,” and in the same breath takes aim at Mick Jagger and his sagging lips. Over the next three verses, Chuck calls out the institutions and individuals that have diluted the game: “Screamin’ gangsta 20 years later/Of course endorsed while consciousness faded/ new generations believing them fables/ gangster boogie on two turntables.” Wizened but not weak, PE still has that fire.

I got up with the man born Carlton Ridenhour as the group was wrapping up its Rock the Bells tour, and we discussed some of the stylistic chances he took on PE’s most recent album, How You Sell Soul To A Soulless People Who Sold Their Soul?, the state of hip-hop, and the recent moves by Chamillionare and Talib Kweli to clean up their lyrics.

by Sam Chennault

If hip-hop was like t-ball and they handed out chintzy little statues, Oxnard beatsmith Oh No might be taking home “most improved." But, really, Oh No has always been dope – it’s just that it took a minute for many of us to get over the fact that he was Madlib’s little brother. Being the relative of another legendary musician can be a double edged sword. Sure, it’ll get you access, and many times people will check for you just because of that, but it also means that you have to work that harder to get out of their shadow.

And while his 2005 debut Disrupt was a respectable foray into left coast jazzy boom bap, it wasn’t until he dropped Dr. No's Oxperiment album this past summer that people started to take Oh No  seriously on his own merits. The Source gave it four stars, while Nate Patrin over at Pitchfork handed out an 8.0. The praise was earned.On the instrumental album, Oh No sampled funk records from the Middle East and the Mediterranean, with a focus on Turkish and Lebanese music.

I’m usually not a fan of these high concept releases – they seem both arbitrary and gimmicky, and the resulting music oftentimes only works when  viewed in context. But the good doctor nailed it, and the songs here are fun, funky hip-hop psychadelia.  It may be the best instrumental hip-hop album I’ve heard this year.

But, as I found out during our interview, the record was actually made in the beginning of 2005 and has been on ice ever since. In fact, it came damn close to never dropping at all. Here, Oh No recounts growing up with Madlib, his video game addiction, his upcoming album with  Alchemist and how an almost forgotten lark became his breakout record.

 

by Sam Chennault

Perhaps you’ve recently noticed that certain aspects of the hip-hop/R&B sections haven’t been updated as regularly. My apologies. See, I was married on the 22nd to the beautiful and intelligent Nirmala Nataraj, and have spent much of the past month attending to that or on my honeymoon. What I'd like to do here (after the jump) is talk about my adventures as well as shine a little light on the music that provided a soundtrack for what was one of the most eventful months of my life.

by Sam Chennault

Okay, if you're a music critic or you follow music criticism,  you've probably already heard the noise. New Yorker critic Sasha Frere Jones, anointed as the contrarian  bellwether for music critics, published an article in this week's New Yorker detailing how he feels that the dialogue between white and black music has come to a stand still. I'm glad to see someone discussing race, and I don't totally disagree with everything he says...he does make some good points about how the idea of political correctness has led to an awareness of cultural appropriation and thus a fear of true integration (at least by white musicians). But I disagree that this new racial segregation started in earnest in the mid-90s with Pavement (look at the Smiths or Bauhaus). I know on his podcast (yes, I listened to his podcast), he cites Bob Dylan as a prime example of music miscegenation, but Pavement can be seen as a riff on absurdist era Dylan, and I've always liked Malkmus singing because it seemed to be more about rhythm than melody.

I got off the Pavement bandwagon pretty early, and I'm no expert on indie rock by any stretch of the imagination,  but what strikes me as essentially wrong about this piece is that he doesn't really define his terms and he ignores examples that don't fit into his critique. He treats indie rock as a monolith consisting of groups such as the Decembrists, Wilco and Devendra Banhart. When I think of indie rock that hipsters currently fetishisize, I think of stuff like DFA, Justice, Girl Talk, !!!, or maybe Hot Chip.

Anyway, I'm rambling, here's a link to the article.

by Sam Chennault

Remember 2003? It was a simpler, happier time. We'd banished Saddam, the Spurs were in the finals, Martha Stewart was headed to the slammer and a 19 year old kid from East London named Dizzee Rascal set the indie hearts aflutter when he introduced us all to garage/grime. We were all sure that DIzzee would be the new Pac (or at least the new Morrissey...lol) and that American pop audiences were on the cusp of accepting the jarring sounds of grime .

Anyway, the boy in the corner turned into the young adult in obscurity. His last album, Math and English, went double wood in the hipster hood and was eclipsed (at least in my judgment) by Wiley's far superior Playtime in Over. Now Dizzee has apparently resigned himself to guest spots on album cuts from H-Town rappers. His cut with UGK was one of the weakest tracks from that album, but it was still okay. This one from The Grit Boys album is hot garbage. Grit Boys are a Southern Houston group featuring Pretty Todd, Poppy, Scooby and Unique. Their single, "Fresh." made a little noise and wasn't horrible. "Cup Full," however, is burdened by overly dramatic production (with churning noize, rattling hi-hats and synth stabs that point towards Memphis Crunk) and fairly forgettable verses from the Grits and ATL's Mac Boney (who was roped into the whole T.I. bust). Dizzee's verse isn't horrible, but it does feel tacked on, and is at odds with the other verses.

by Sam Chennault

I first met up with JT a few years back in SF’s the lower Haight District. He’d been a major player in the Bay since the mid-90s when the single “Game Recognize Game” helped jump start the Bay Area hip-hop explosion. He hasn’t had a true national hit since that time, though he has released a few albums and a thousand mixtapes, but he’s always one of those dudes who’ve stuck around and helped mold the scene by their championing of new artists (he was the guy who first discovered the Game) and his very unique business models. He has been collaborating a lot with Snoop as of late (check out  Mandatory Business) and just dropped Mr. Vice President album.

JT is always a pleasure to talk to, and transcribing this interview I can’t help but think about Fiascogate (for those who don’t know, the story goes a little something like this: Lupe Fiasco publicly states that he never really felt Tribe Called Quest; Lupe lands a spot on the Hip Hop Honors tribute to Tribe then he flubs a line to “Electric Relaxation” and afterwards claims that he was only their because Q-Tip asks him to, to which Q-Tip responds that he never personally asked Lupe, and internet rap fans explode in rage and threaten to boycott Lupe).  But, back to what I was saying, JT is hardly what a backpacker MC (he is about as hard as it gets) but he's intelligent, political and uplifting.  The perception that socially conscious emcees have to be backpacking nerds (or Tribe Called Quest fans) is totally bogus, but a lot of fans expect their favorites emcees to fit in a very small box.

by Sam Chennault

I’ve interviewed Talib three times, and he can be difficult. He’s either basically rehashing his talking points, and when you get him out of his box, he can seem a bit competitive. And I rarely speak with artists who have as ambiguous relationship with their fans as Talib does. Listen to how he talks about Liberation. To his defense, underground hip-hop fans can be overly possessive, and are oftentimes seemingly intent on keeping their favorite artists within these very tight stylistic parameters. Anyway, without any further ado, here's an interview I did with Talib about a month or two ago.

With Liberation, what did you intend for the projects to accomplish and did they meet those goals?

Talib Kweli: With Liberation, I had so many tracks from Madlib and I wanted to do a whole album with him, but I didn’t want to deal with the politics of it as far as who was going to release it and this and that and that and this. So I decided that it would be cool to have something that would be put out for free that was called Liberation. And also I felt like that sound Madlib had...people are very critical as far as my choice of producers. I wanted to showcase that whenever I feel like it I can make music that people think like I should be making. But that’s not my charge in life. My charge is to make music that I want to make.

So while I’m a fan of Madlib, and while Liberation was critically acclaimed in circles by people who had written me off, it was proof to people in those circles that I could do this in my sleep and, matter of fact, I’ll give it to you for free. But when it comes to my albums, I’m going to experiment and have fun.

by Sam Chennault

The time is 2003 and the place is San Francisco’s Lower Haight district. Glued to a rickety computer for months, I desperately tried to befriend, cajole and  influence underground hip-hop’s intelligista in my position as publicist for Bay Area art/hip-hop lifestyle company Future Primitive Sound. If you’re from the Bay, or if you’re an adamant follower of graffiti and underground hip-hop culture, you probably recognize the name. But for those in the dark, Future Primitive Sound helped revolutionize the hip-hop concert experience in the late-90s by bringing in a steady procession of videographers and graffiti artists to do their thing during the sets of seminal turntabalist such as Radar, Z-Trip, Cut Chemist, DJ Shadow, Q-Bert and Peanut Butter Wolf among many many others. 

by Sam Chennault

Vegas is strange and scattered. It’s a place where replications of Michelangelo’s David are propped against endless rows of blurry, bleeping slot machines. It's a city of dreams and nightmares, and for me, the VMAs were more the latter than the former. I was supposed to cover the red carpet action for Rhapsody and score a few interviews for our system, but our new partners at MTV thought it was appropriate to assign me the fire exit beat, and I ended up being sandwiched between a reporter for the Eskimo Wire Service and about three dozen 240-pound, 14-year-old girls who had climbed on top of slot machines and spent the evening shredding their vocal chords.  The noise that emanated from their gourds every time a d-list celeb boy toy strolled by could’ve sliced diamonds, and my ears are still ringing from their shrill adoration.

by Sam Chennault

I'm just touching back down in SF and will post some red carpet picks later tonight/early tomorrow, but here is the final installment in the VMA sneaker blog.

Red camo BAPEs

a trio

Pharrell's BAPEs

BL3 limited edition Adicolor from last year

the Bobby Jones AF1 25s from earlier this year

some nike hitops

Not sure what these are. Producer/ Songwriter KO was sporting these at the Palms.

I liked the colorways on these AF1s. This is from Caesars Palace.

A few different pairs from the Palm yesterday

Lol...I'd totally forgotten about the ridiculous shoes that Lil Mama was wearing on the red carpet. These did go with her outfit.

I believe these are the New York limited AF1s.

And that's it! Hope you enjoyed.

by Sam Chennault

I gotta say that I was a little disappointed with the shoe game on Friday night and Saturday day. But Vegas really stepped it up today. Here are some of the best that I saw:

This is a picture of Soulja Boy's BAPES.

A lot of people kind of turned their nose at the idea of pinstriped BAPES, but these looked real nice I thought.

The picture is not that great, I know, but these are really dope AF1s that came out this year for the shoes 25th anniversary.

These are really hot New York Limited Edition AF1s that came out earlier this year.

This is a picture of Chris Brown's shoes. No idea what brand they are, but I thought they looked pretty hot.

These are from the Kashi collection. I saw a lot of peeps wearing Kashi this weekend.

I spotted these Creative Recreations at the Palms. Definitely a hate it or love it sort of shoe.

More BAPES!

I don't want to make this too long, so I'll cut it off here. But I have at least enough pics for one more batch, so stay tuned tomorrow for the conclusion.

by Sam Chennault

Hip-hop and sneakers go together like peanut butter and jelly, so I figured that while I'm at the VMAs, I'll be snapping shots of the hottest sneakers on and off the strip. Here are a few I've spotted so far.

BAPES at Caesars

at the Eve party

BAPEs at Caesars

Some limited edition AF1s outside of the palm

Nikes poolside

by Sam Chennault

This is my first time in Vegas and after spending a couple of days here, I can understand why this is the perfect place for the VMAs. Both Vegas and MTV/ VH1 are obsessed with marginally talented celebrities oftentimes 20 years past their prime (see Scott Baio and Tony Danza), and both feed off of compulsive and destructive behavior. For MTV, this means playing up the Britney angle, while Vegas still works hard for its title as the City of Sin (though debauchery now has a middle-class, suburbanite face).

But don't get twisted by a couple of good natured jokes. It's been real interesting. Yesterday started off at the Rhapsody Cabana Pool Party at the Palms. It was beautiful, though very very hot (especially coming from the perpetually cool SF). Suge Knight was in the house, though his bodyguards didn't let me anywhere near him (understandable since at the last VMAs I covered he was shot). Rihanna was also there, though I didn't get to see here. Here are a couple of pics:

chilling poolside

The Rhapsody girls in our Cabana

House  DJ A-Track bringing it on the ones and twos.

After a couple of hours, a few drinks (including a $25 margarita!) and a lot of people watching/leering we headed back to Caesars for a little rest before setting off to Rain for the Eve Show.

It seems like goal number 1 in Vegas is to funnel alcohol down your throat There's a reason why bottles of water are $3 and the liquor is free. Rain seemed to be doing their part on Friday night with free cocktails courtesy of Belvedere Vodka. The crowd, which I would describe as upscale sexy, were pump for the exclusive performance by Eve. Her performance was about as good as could've been expected for the format, I suppose. She did four or five songs, including "Tambourine" and "Give it To You."

Her four, very saucy backup dancers were a nice touch, and Dj Miss Saigon definitely got the crowd amped before and after the Eve performance,

Here are a few shots of the event.

Mandy Moore was there throughout the evening. She was filmed by a camera crew throughout.

Garish, exotic dancers entertained the crowd throughout the evening.

A nice overview of the crowd

Partier Sean posing for the Rhap Cam.

by Sam Chennault

September 7th, 2000, San Francisco's Western Edition.

Cold air seeps through the rickety window panes as silent images from MTV's post-VMA coverage fill the otherwise dark room in a morphing mesh of colors. Suddenly, the ground shakes as a gleaming metallic light rises from the floor to swirl up in front of the coffee table.

I stir my gin and tonic, taking a sip as the light slowly morphs into the form of human. After a minute, the person's features begin to cement, and I recognize that this apparition is in fact me. 

"Um," I stammer. "Are you…me?"

He shrugs in acknowledgment and lights up a cigarette.

"You got another one of those?" he asks, pointing toward my drink.

"Take this one," I say. I scan him over, and notice that he looks much older than me and is dressed in a strangely flashy manner.

"Your shoes are very shiny," I offer.

"Listen, Sam," he begins. "I'm from 2007 and we work with MTV now."

"We work with MTV now?" I ask.

"Yeah, they have memory problems, so they built a time machine, and sent me back here to ask some questions," he says.

"We work with MTV now?"

"Listen, can we get past that?" my doppelganger asks. "I have questions, and not a lot of time."

"Sure."

"What happened at the VMAs tonight?"

"Well, it was hosted by the Waynes Brothers," I begin.

"Oh, the dudes in White Chicks," he cuts in, chuckling. "That movie may be the best thing that happens in this decade, trust me. What else do you have for me?"

"I guess what most people are talking about is when Britney performed 'I Can't Get No Satisfaction,' ripped off her black suit and appeared naked except for some well-placed props. But it turns out she was in a flesh-colored tight suit. Hey, does she, you know, ever show us her stuff in the future?"

My 2007 self shudders. "Um, yeah. You could put it that way."

"Are her and the guy from N*SYNC, who also performed tonight -- are they still together?" I ask.

"No," he says. "But 'that guy from N*SYNC, as your refer to him, goes on to be a critically renowned, cutting edge pop star and the heir to Michael Jackson's throne as King of Pop."

"Really? Does Fred Durst, who performed with Xtina, become the new John Lennon?" I ask.

"No, but he does release a sex tape," my 2007 self offers, pensively looking out the window as if he's pondering the fortunes of the Limp Bizkit frontman.

"That ugly dude makes a sex tape?"

"In the future, everyone has a sex tape, Sam" he says. "But keep your eye on Xtina. She is very respected. What else happens?"

"Oh, Eminem performed with a hundred look alikes and Rage Against the Machine got into trouble when their bassist climbed the scaffolding behind the stage and refused to come down. Hey, does the great Marxist/ hip-hop/middle class revolution ever go down?"

My double frowns, drains the gin and tonic dry and takes a long pull from his cigarette.

"No, you need to prepare for the worst, Sam. And don't vote for Nader. You'll regret it, believe me."

And with that, he vanishes, leaving me alone with nothing to look forward to. Except White Chicks.

artwork by dalek

by Sam Chennault

While Kanye’s heart and soul belong to the Chi, he is increasingly looking eastward for his visual cues. The video for “Stronger” is the clearest example of Kanye’s Japan fetish, but he has also enlisted famed Japanese artist Takashi Murakami to design the artwork for his new singles and the Graduation cover.

Murakami is best known in the states for his collaborations with Louie Vuitton, but originally he was a famous Japanese pop artist who pioneered the superflat movement. Admittedly, I’m not an art critic, but superflat is among the most important art movements to come out of Japan post-WWII. It grinds together the sexuality of manga with the violence of anime and evaluates these through the kitschy lens of pop art.

I guess you could make the argument that Murakami surrendered his right to effectively interrogate consumerism when he started linking up with LV and Kanye, but who cares? His stuff is still dope. Here are some more examples of Murakami’s art:

by Sam Chennault

We’re all pretty happy to see Kanye get nominated for “Stronger.” It’s not the best flip of Daft Punk’s "Bigger Faster Stronger" (that honor belongs to Neptune’s breezy remix), and it’s not even the most entertaining video Kanye has released from Graduation Day (see Zack Galifianakis and Will Oldham’s collaboration with Kanye for “Can’t Tell Me Nothing”), but, minor quibbles aside, it is good to see Kanye succeed (once again). Certainly the buzz from the single helped Common’s Kanye-produced Finding Forever top the Billboard charts last week, and Kanye’s success is good for those of us who cherish true school hip-hop. His production style points toward the Chicagoan soul of former Common collaborator No I.D., as well the rugged nostalgia of Wu Tang mastermind RZA. And Kanye’s stardom also draws attention to Chi-town’s hip-hop scene, which has always been overshadowed by ATL, NYC and LA.

Most think of the Windy City as the home of Twista, Shawna or maybe Do or Die, but there is a whole subculture of Chicago hip-hop that rarely gets noticed. You might have heard of Rhymefest and Lupe Fiasco, both of whom released great albums in 2006. Like Kanye, both Rhymefest (who co-wrote Jesus Walks) and Lupe Fiasco are what most people would consider conscious emcees. The same tag could be given to Chicago's All Natural, whose 1998 album No Additives, No Preservatives is considered a classic indie hip-hop debut. Though the group hasn’t dropped anything in a few years, lead emcee Capitol D blessed us with some hot joints, and their record label (All Natural, Inc) released the Eulorhythmics Extended Play, which for my money was one of the finest indie hip-hop disks from last year.

Here’s a playlist that compiles some of Kanye's best alongside the artists mentioned above.

by Sam Chennault

 

As promised last week, here’s a list of my top ten albums of the year thus far. This was a pretty hard list to compile as there have been a lot of good to great albums this year.  If you want a little more linear overview of trends in rap, check here. And my list is after the jump.

^^^ Jacek Sroka

by Sam Chennault

After you're done with R. Kelly, click here for a look at J Holiday's Soul Classics

Two of the coolest features in Playlist Central are the celebrity mixtapes and celebrity picks. For celebrity mixtapes, we interview artists and have them talk about their favorite tracks. Here's the one I did with Method Man where he broke down the science behind a lot of Wu Tang classics, and here's another from Van Hunt that is notable for Hunt's excellent taste. Celebrity picks are pretty much the same concept except that they're not compiled from audio interviews. Here are Tom Joyner's picks.

Yesterday, I think I may have received our best celebrity playlist to date when Zomba forwarded me R. Kelly's picks. (check it out here) But there was a problem...

^if you recognize that this man is a genius, please click through

by Sam Chennault

Fans of the singer should check out David Lynch’s new one, Inland Empire. The film feels like a very long and disorienting nightmare, but after three hours of puzzling identity morphs, Eastern European demons, bloody bile, and eerie noises, the end credits unfold and we’re treated to a full and completely celebratory lip-synch freak-out of Nina Simone’s “Sinnerman.” If you can stomach the three hours of revulsion and confusion that preceed the "performance," then it’s pretty incredible. Also, there’s a scene with a dozen Polish prostitutes lip-synching “Loca-Motion.”

by Sam Chennault

Nas is my all-time favorite emcee and his new album, Hip-Hop is Dead, is pretty bad ass.  It raises a lot of interesting questions: is hip-hop culture dead? did we sell it down the river for the skrilla? what's the relationship between art and commerce? are the two mutually exclusive?

Anyway, here's a bio of that was rejected for our service (too long), but you might enjoy it as an overview, introduction or whatevah.

Biggie's star may have shined brightest, and Rakim was more influential, but Nas has consistently pushed the art of hip-hop lyricism further than any other emcee. From the first line of his 1991 debut on Main Source's "Live at the BBQ" to his 2006 collaboration with Jay-Z, "Black Republicans," Nas has astounded listeners with his ability to integrate shockingly raw poetic imagery into glum ghetto narratives.

Nas' debut album, 1994's Illmatic, is considered a classic. On songs such as “Memory Lane” and “One Love,” Nas sounded as he could’ve been 60 or 16; a shortie on the corner slinging rock or a revolutionary perched on the steps of capitals. Notions of transcendence and self-determination clash with a relentless ticker tape of torn lives and dead bodies.  This is music that breathes and bleeds, and is one of the greatest hip-hop albums ever released.

Despite universal praise, the gritty Illmatic was a commercial flop. When Nas returned to the studio for his sophomore album, 1996's It Was Written, he left behind hyper-realist ghetto rap, and instead focused on conceptual Mafioso fantasies. It was jarring for fans, but the move paid off. On the strength of singles "If I Ruled the World" and "Street Dreams," It Was Written sold over three million copies.

The taste of success proved addictive, and Nas spent the remainder of the 90s taking a long stroll through a desert of bling. While I Am and Nastradamus featured a handful of good songs, they were generally greeted with derision thanks to albums' pop focus and Nas' lack of lyrical direction.

During this period, Nas was going through a period of deep personal struggles. His mother was diagnosed with cancer, his longtime girlfriend (and baby's mama) proved unfaithful and he felt artistically sterile. As Nas hit rock bottom, Brooklyn emcee Jay-Z released "Takeover," a diss track that contended Nas had "fell from top ten to not mentioned at all."

Jay-Z's quest to disgrace Nas backfired. Instead of demurring, Nas retaliated with the searing track "Ether." (the link is to the edited version, which takes away a lot from this track unforetunately) When the track premiered on NYC hip-hop station Hot 97, the normally arrogant Jay-Z was stunned, and could only mumble that the track was "vulgar…just really vulgar." Jay-Z's mother intervened on the BK rapper's behalf, and Jay eventually apologized to Nas for his outburst. The word "ether" has since entered hip-hop lexicon as a synonym for humiliation.

Nas' next two albums, the streetwise Stillmatic and the personal God's Son, further solidified his place as hip-hop's reigning poet,  while hit singles "Get Ya'Self a Gun," "Made You Look" and "I Can" proved that he was still commercially relevant. In 2005, Jay-Z reached out to Nas and the two ended hip-hop's most storied beef. Nas' 2006 album, Hip-Hop is Dead, was released on Jay-Z's Def Jam records.

by Sam Chennault

After the post on guest verses in hip-hop songs, figured I'd switch it up with a post on French films with a Brian Eno reference in the title. Maybe it'll be more popular?

In addition to the whole soundtrack concept, this is essentially a Rhapsody-powered film review. Various links are embedded throughout the review, but the ones that are in bold are linked to tracks in Rhapsody. I talk about the concept behind this a little more in the end.

I re-watched Michael Haneke's film Cache last night and was pretty blown away by it. It’s a movie full of lies, paranoia, surveillances, false accusations, racism, betrayal and terror, both the internal and external kind, and its intended as a metaphor for the Western World's war on terror as well as France’s own problems with Algeria. Perhaps to its detriment, it’s also a movie that is more about despair than it is rage.

I'd seen it before, while it was in the theater, but picked up a lot more after a second vieiwng and thought it would be a good nominee for what I hope to be my reoccurring Imaginary Soundtracks to Real Films posts. Most will be more light-hearted and brief than this one.

The plot revolves around a French couple, Georges and Anne Laurent (played by Daniel Auteuil and Juliette Binoche), who begin receiving these mysterious tapes in the mail. At first, they’re surveillance tapes, but then they begin to point towards mystery that leads Georges to an Algerian man who Georges had betrayed as a child. The Algerian man, Majid, is not introduced until the middle of the film, and the first portion of the movie presents itself as more of a classic mystery.

Though Georges, who has started having childhood flashbacks, suspects Majid, he keeps his suspicions from his wife. Deceit seems to be George’s MO, and a theme that the movie returns to again and again. When Georges reveals his suspicions about Majid to his wife – or rather is confronted with the fact that his wife has found out – he lies. After the Majid storyline reaches its tragic denouement, Georges goes back to his house, sits in a darkened room and proceeds to mislead to his wife again. Initially, Georges lies to protect his wife (or at least that’s what he tells her), but eventually he lies to conceal his shame.

It’s important to note that Majid consistently denies involvement, and the filmmaker seems to want us to believe that the he’s telling the truth. But Georges consistently misinterprets Majid’s motives and actions in the most self-serving and cynical way possible. For him, Majid is never really human, but a monster who only wants to inflict terror upon Georges -- whether by sending him these tapes or supposedly setting him up for a murder in the end.

The initial mystery of who sent the tapes is never resolved, and many viewers and critics have gotten hung up about this aspect of the film. But the mystery is unsolvable. While it is as an act of terror, it is an essentially innocuous one except for Georges’ reaction to it. This is set up to mirror certain aspects of the war on terror. 

Like the film, very little is known publicity about our war, and even the parameters of the conflict are uncertain and constantly morphing. Is the war against dictators, terrorists or elected officials? Is it in Afghanistan, Iraq or North Korea? Is it about freedom, security or money?

Perhaps after reading this review, you’ll think that this is an anti-American film, but it’s not. It’s meant more as a critique of the French involvement in Algeria, but there are aspects of the French and Algeria dynamic that mirror our own war against Al Qaeda as well as Israel’s ordeal with the Palestine.

But Cache more than just a macro critique of politics in culture, it also takes aim at the Western liberal. Georges is a quiet, neverous and paranoid, but he's not your typical racist. He hosts a show on books where he discusses Rimbaud.  If you asked him, he would probably tell you that he sympathizes with the Algerian cause. For him, racism is not a philisophical concept but an engrained web of stereotypes and fears. Beneath his veneer of enlightment resides something very ugly and violent.

In the end, after Majid is dead, Georges is confronted by Majid’s son, who knows the set of circumstances that led up to Majid’s death. Georges is enraged – threatening the son, further disrespecting Majid, demanding that he stop “terrorizing” Georges' family and accusing the son of being responsible for the tapes all along. Throughout the conversation, he tries to deny any culpability for Majid's fate. Finally, Majid shuts up for a second and asks the son what he wants. The son, who’s seen right through Georges the entire time, tells  him that he only wants to ask what it’s like to have someone's life on his conscious, but he doesn't have to ask anymore. What he doesn't say is taht Georges' anger and guilt have swallowed him, and the violent loop of fear, regret and true terror is finally complete.

The movie's dramatic tension is compounded by the fact that Haneke keeps distorting the POV so you're not sure if you're watching things actually unfold or if you're watching the main character watch them unfold via the series of surveillance tapes.  The technique makes you so uncertain of each frame, and requires that you watch (very closely) with a degree of suspicion. Not only are the characters shadowy and full of lies, but the boundaries of the film seem up in the air.

Another aspect of this film that makes it an appropriate candidate for my first Imaginary Soundtracks for Real Films entry is that the film as no soundtrack. There is little to no audio embellishment, just a procession of silent and mysterious scenes. The film's silence works to its advantage, no doubt, but it’d be interesting to imagine a soundtrack for it. I’m not proposing a frame by frame mash-up, like the overrated Wizard of Oz and Pink Floyd thing or this comparatively brilliant mix of The Matrix and Mambo #5 .

I don’t have that much time on my hands, nor do I have the technical knowledge. But I’m trying to find songs that kind of have the same themes as the film. I’d imagine that there’d be a lot of great indie rock radiohead like songs for this, but I don’t listen to rock n’ rock, and a cursory listen to the #1 indie rock group in Rhapsody would seem to refute that theory anyway. I’ve embedded links in the text that illustrate why exactly these songs apply to this movie (the music and critique are linked both according to thematic and structural similarities). You can find these in the essay, but here's a list of them:

Ice Cube, The Nigga You Love to Hate   Nirvana, All Apologies  Ice Cube, I Wanna Kill Sam Shaggy, It Wasn’t Me  Goodie Mob, Cell Therapy  Geto Boys, Mind’s Playing Tricks on Me  David Banner, Mississippi  Beanie Segal, Feel It in The Air  David Banner, Fire Falling  Oval, Indirekt #4 Quasimoto, Goodmorning Sunshine

by Sam Chennault

It's been a long time, and I shouldn't have left you without a dope post to step to.

I know...I know...you're not all that interested in the kicks that I wear, the pets that I own or the liquor that I drink, so 'll cut out all the howyadoin' stuff and get straight to the point.

Here's my list of top ten guest verses in all of hip-hop.

10. Eminem on Biggie's "Dead Wrong"

Honestly, I’m kind of ambivalent about Em.

Brilliant lyricist: check.

The premier post-modern media manipulation dude of his generation: check.

Great freestyle emcee: check.

Emo/goth, disturbed misogynist, lousy producer, crit darling, self-involved egotist with bad taste in women: BIG CHECK.

I liked Em best when he was a punchline emcee on the Wake-Up Show, and this verse captures him at his multi-syllabic rhyming/ devil-worshiping/ gun-toting best.

9. Luda on Missy Elliott's "Gossip Folks"

Luda probably has more great guest verses than any other rapper (excepting possibly Redman) and it's real hard to find just one to rep, but this one is pretty good. Luda basically tells the story of his rist to fame over one of Timbo' s hottest tracks ever.  When he references The Governator's oh-so-classic role in Kindergarden Cop with the line "I got a headache and it's not a tooo-mor," it's like the icing on the cake. 

8. UGK on Jay Z's "Big Pimpin'"

Chosen by me more for what it signified than for its actual quality. This was when Jay Z was at the height of his popularity, and for him to expose UGK (a largely unknown crew from Houston) to the world was huge for the now-legendary crew. I read a piece on UGK member Bun B in The Believer were he fondly remembers the verse but laments that they couldn't have collaborated on something more substantial that this. Still, this song is a straight banger that was instrumental in the rise of UGK.

In the above-sited Bun B interview, he reveals how to out-rap someone whose song you are guest appearing on: Use more syllables per line; Attack the song in the same way as your mark, but with more intensity; and Rhyme more words, and rhyme multisyllabically. Sounds like good advice.

He also comes up with this rhyme that he wrote for Larry David: "Tell your homeboy to Curb his Enthusiasm/ before I point my motherf*ckin’ uzi at him.”

7. Lil Flip on David Banner's "Like a Pimp"

The Leprechaun may have fallen off after being embarrassed by T.I. during their beef, but he seemed pretty god-like when he introduced himself in this classic David Banner banger. He kicks it off with a line like, "By the time I hit the dowe/ I saw ho's on the flowe."

6. Jadakiss and Ludacris on Nas' "Made You Look (Remix)"

I know...I'm kinda  weak and pathetic for citing a song that we don't have in Rhapsody, but I had to include this one. Usually, when rappers guest on remixes, you get a bunch of half-arsed throw away lines. But Luda and Jada brought the heat. Jada starts off real grimy, sending a dedication to "all my nigg*z that been home but only got a jail ID," declaring that "this is methadone music that you can lean off" and taunting his rivals with lines like "I copped your sh*t, but now I break weed up on it." His verse peaks when he declares himself "out of shape, but I make sure that my gun's healthy." Convential wisdom says that Luda, who also guests on the song, comes the strongest, but I disagree. Straight fire from one of the sickest 16-Bar lyricist in hip-hop.

Here's the original version without Luda or Jada.

5. Keak Da Sneak on E-40's "Tell Me When to Go"

Some people are going to wince at seeing such a recent and popular song make this list, and others are going to say that Keak has little talent. I can see the argument that this hasn't stood the test of time, but Keak is an absolute monster. He's limited by his raspy, drug-damaged voice, but he's able to cut through big beats such as this one like he was spitting razor blades. 

4. Madlib on Quasimoto's "Come On Feet"

It isn't that Madlib delivers that great of a verse...really, he's a much much better producer than he is an emcee, and he's told me as much in interviews. But this verse makes it on the list cuz of its conceptual creativity. I remember in 1999 when The Unseen came out, it was hard trying to convince friends that Madlib and Lord Quas were one in the same because they'd always point to the instances of Quas and Madlib doing call and response bits and trading off verses and lines. This particular song might not be the best instance of this ("Loop Digga" has more direct interplay b/t the 2), but it was chosen for its deft use of Alain Goraguer's theme from the movie Fantastic Planet and "Come on Feet Move for Me" (from the blaxploitation classic Sweet Sweetback's Badass Song).

3. Common on Black Star's "Respiration"

People like to attack Common cuz he comes across as soft, but you gotta give it up to the Chi-Town rapper for out-conscioussing Black Star despite great verses from both Mos and Talib.

Just listen to his first few bars here:

Felt the spirit in the wind, knew my friend was gone for good
Threw dirt on the casket, the hurt, I couldn't mask it
Mixin down emotions, struggle I hadnt mastered
I coreograph seven steps to heaven
And hell, waiting to exhale and make the bread leavened
Veteran of a cold war its Chica-i-go for
What I know or, whats known

2. AZ on Nas' "Life's A Bitch"

AZ was the only guest on Nas' landmark Illmatic album, and he almost outshines God's Son. At this point, I'm just going to shut up and let the lyrics speak for themselves:

Visualizing the realism of life and actuality
F*ck who's the baddest - a person's status depends on salary
And my mentality is money orientated
I'm destined to live the dream for all my peeps who never made it
Cuz yeah, we were beginners in the hood as Five Percenters
But something must of got in us cuz all of us turned to sinners
Now some restin' in peace and some are sittin' in San Quentin
Others such as myself are tryin' to carry on tradition
Keepin' the sweat perseverance, street ghetto essence inside us
Cuz it provides us with the proper insight to guide us
Even though we know somehow we all gotta go
but as long as we leavin' thievin'
we'll be leavin' with some kind of dough
And to that day we expire and turn to vapors,
me and my capers - I'll be somewhere stackin' plenty papers
Keeping it real, packing steel and getting high
Cause life's a bitch and then you die

1. Ghostface on GZA's "4th Chamber"

Honestly, I'd like to put Nas' verse on the Main Source classic "Live at the BBQ" in this slot, but we don't have this in our system so it doesn't seem appropriate.

Still, it's hard to touch Ghost's verse on this classic. Over RZA's crunchy, noisy production, Ghost leads off with a verse that sets the tone for one of the best hip hop songs ever. He declares that "this ain't no white cartoon/ Cuz I be duckin crazy spades"; claims that he "ran the dark ages with Constantine" and builds with "Genghis Khan, the wreck-suede wiley Don"; and brags that he's been "sippin' rum out of Stanly Cups."  Probably the most memorable part of this verse is when Ghost breaks into the series of rhetorical questions in the middle of the verse:

"Why is the sky blue?
Why is water wet?
Why did Judas rat to the Romans while Jesus slept?"

Postscript:

Ghostface basically answered the question "Why is the Sky Blue?" three years later on the equally classic song "The Sun":

"The sky's blue cuz the sun hit the water like 'BING' ."

A lot of people will try to tell you that the sky is blue because of vapor, water droplets, ice crystals, Rayleigh scattering and sh*t like that, but don't believe them. The sky is blue cuz the sun hit the water like BING. 

by Sam Chennault

I'll offer this supplement to Garrett's Paris post. This quote is from a NY Times article about Storch, who did the production for the Paris album.

While Mr. Storch compared Ms. Hilton's sound to Cyndi Lauper's and Blondie's, he tap-danced when asked if Ms. Hilton could actually hold a note. "If people are given the right circumstances and the right track and the right melody, it's about the conviction," he said. "It's not necessarily about being a God-given virtuoso."

Sure.

Mr. Storch and Ms. Hilton became an item during their time together. The two showed up hand in hand at the 2005 MTV Video Music Awards, and he did buy her a Bentley. (He also purchased one for his ex-girlfriend Lil' Kim when they were an item.) Did the two mix business and pleasure? "It's always a pleasure working with Paris," Mr. Storch said with a sly chuckle. "We were good friends. Let the world figure that out. I take the high road."

by Sam Chennault

The greatest thing about working at Rhapsody is having access to Fantasy Rhapsody. I'm not sure about whether I'm permitted to tell you guys about this, but basically we have access to almost every album ever released, regardless of digital rights issues.

Recently, the higher-ups at Real have rewarded me with Ultra-Fantasy Rhapsody. Not only do I get to listen to classic Led Zeppelin and Eagles material, but I also get a sneak peek at the future and am able to listen to albums that have yet to be released or even created. While I'm not permitted to play any snippets for you, I can offer a few reviews so at least you know what to expect.

Jay Z, The Blue Album
Let's face it -- Jay Z had a tough 2006. First he was canned from Def Jam following what is now referred to as the "Roots fiasco," then Beyonce dropped him due to his rumored affair with Barbados-born teen vixen Rihanna and, to add salt to the wounds, former and current rival Nas delivered  the proverbial nail in the coffin with his Blakian diss track, "Quintessence." So it comes as no surprise that for his comeback album the once-dapper star has lost some of his swagger. The machismo of "Big Pimpin'" has been replaced by the sad alcoholism of "Steady Drinkin'...Alone," while "Sh*t off My Shoe" shamelessly recycles the beat for "Dirt Off My Shoulder."  Though it lacks the bombast of previous Jay Z releases, there's poignant vulnerability in "I Surrender," his response to the Nas diss track. A sure fire hit for those with a fetish for depressed black males.

Diana Ross, Supreme Insanity
Following on the heels of dear friend Michael Jackson's 2007 nervous breakdown, Ms. Ross decided to explore the material of fellow extra terrestrial and former Pink Floyd lead singer Syd Barrett.  The album's maudlin, big band arrangements of "Effervescent Elephant" and "Baby Lemonade" are oddly endearing, striking a balance between sentimental schmaltz and acid-dipped psychedelia. Her phrasing is impeccable throughout, daring the listener to keep a dry eye as she recounts, "inside an eye be the lonely one, my bride/ how I leave on the waddling wheel/ they flail /a gasp shringing/ a bad bell's ringing/ the angel - the daughter." Perfect music to play at your high school reuninion.

Pussy Augmon, Music for Whorehouses
This collaboration between Brian Eno and Snoop owes more than a debt of gratitude to the trailblazing Gnarls Barkely project, which (as of Jan. 1st, 2007) has sold in excess of ten million copies and garnered Cee-Lo and Danger Mouse a dozen Grammy nominations. Though one would imagine that a slight tinkling piano phrase repeating for ten minutes over the sound of bong ingestions would grow tedious, the cumulative effect of "4/20" (Whorehouse's first track) is powerful, reminding listeners of the transience of modern life and marijuana. Less successful is the second and third tracks, which are entirely comprised of a grating atmospheric buzz and the sound of an obviously irritated Snoop threatening, "B*tch, you best cue the beat…I pimp smack ya bald head ." The inclusion of Eno dialing 9-1-1 before the track fades out is oddly satisfying.

by Sam Chennault

While revamping the hip-hop genre tree -- check it out when you have the chance -- I  had to evaluate thousands of artists to determine their style. I was given these really long Excel spreadsheets and the work was incredibly tedious, but I hope that it pays off and makes the site much more user-friendly.

Anyway, I did run across a lot of great new music as well as encounter some pretty bad handles. Here's a list of the ten worst names that I came across.

10. OX da Neighborhood Short Stoppa
If you're a solo artist and you have 8 syllables in your name, you've already lost.

9. Da Muzicianz
I like it when rappers change the spelling of ordinary words, but the key is to make it snappier (JT Tha Bigga Figga), more political (AmeriKKKas Most Wanted) or make some veiled reference to your gang affiliation (DJ Quik). Or, if you have to add a bunch of Zs, slap 'em on the end (Supafriendz or The Hoodratz ). But this sideproject from the Ying Yang Twins just makes it more confusing.  Though judging by their single, they should've named themselves Da Dumb.

8. Don Gotti, Irv Gotti, John Got'ti, Gotti, Yo Gotti, etc… (tie)
Yeah, we know... you're mob affiliated.  At least John tried to throw in an arbitrary apostrophe to distinguish himself.

7. Kingpin Skiny Pimp
Duke used to be just Skinny Pimp before he felt the need to reemphasize his masculinity…now nobodyr really f**ks with him. He is a pretty legendary figure.

6. Queen Boyz
These dudes better be the toughest guys in the world. And I don't think throwing a "kingpin" in there will help out in this case.

Maybe the Queen Boyz can get together with Flame Gang (whose most popular song is "My Ding a Ling"), Swollen Members, and Fairy GodMother (of Rosebud, no less) for a super group of sorts.

4. Flame & Tha Magician Crystyl
Never knew that Jim Henson was in a rap group. At least they threw in a couple of misspellings.

5. Snakez on Da Plane
Okay, not a real one… not yet at least.

3. Buddah Mack
He's down with Da Peazeful Pimpz.

2. Khadafi
The menace and shock aspect kinda wears off now that Khadafi is our friend. If you're going to name yourself after famous villains, go for dead ones. They can't be redeemed. With that said, this rapper is more of monster on the micraphone than the dictator ever was in real life.

1. Tha Klan
I think I'm going to rename myself Delorez Tuka or Jak Whyte. For background on The White Stripes reference, see this.

by Sam Chennault

What up world.  My name is Sam Chennault and I'm Rhapsody's hip-hop/soul editor. Before coming here, I wrote for a variety of magazines and papers -- almost always about urban music. Feel free to google me or check out my own blog right here.

Album of the year:

This is the album that I've been waiting for since 9/11. Honestly, I almost felt betrayed by the fact that the Coup (hip-hop's foremost political flamethrowers) have remained quiet these past five years as our country's political situation has spun out of control.  These days, everyone has jumped on the hate-Bush bandwagon, most notably former Dubya supporter Neil Young. And why not? It's easy when even the right is calling for his disposal.

But where were these guys when we needed them four years ago? If you weren't living in SF or Manhattan, then you probably could've used some solidarity back then.

I can only think of a handful that were brave enough to challenge Bush's war on terrorism in 2001 or 2002, chief among them is this track:

Mr. Lif, Home of the Brave

I interviewed Mr. Lif a couple of years back and he said that he debuted this song not four months after 9/11 and just blocks from the WTC. That takes balls. Funny how Michael Moore stole all his ideas from this for that little documentary that came out a couple years ago.

Here's another one:

Sage Francis, Makeshift Patriot

Dude's flow needs some serious work, but you have to hand it to Sage for sticking his neck out there so early in the game.

And I'll leave you with what is perhaps the greatest political song to come out post-Katrina:

"Get Ya Hustle On [Explicit Album Version]" - Juvenile

Apocolyptic N.O. bounce. Crescent City native Juve is frustrated, disoriented and angry, and this track reflects all those emotions. Maybe the What's Going On for cats with diamond grills. I've debated with my friends about the viability of Juvenile's message. He's suggested slinging yayo as a way to escape post-Katrina poverty. Yeah, maybe it's morally reckless and socially irresponsible, but I see it as a Mookie moment (Do the Right Thing for cats that's slow). It doesn't make much sense on paper and seems out of place, but it's appropriate given the context.

One other thing...

My sister, who visited me this week, told me about an episode of Cribs were Master P led the cameraman to lake was adjacent to his mansion and told duke that he liked to come out here and "think about things."

I instantly imagined him sitting on a pier and grunting "uggghhh....uggghh" to himself as the sun set over the water and world revolved.

Anyway, you can listen to my Master P interview, where he disses Bow Wow, right here.

I'll get around to the rest of Tim's suggested lists for my next blog entry, but this should give you a good idea of what I'm about.