You know that I'm no good

I’m a music hipster. What a dreadful fate. What in the cane-chopping hell did I do to end up in this position? How, did I become such a fan of “hip, edgy, in vogue” artists? Why does my iPod bootleg Zen Micro rattle with the sounds of the perpetually “next big thing” in rock or pop? I’m hip-hop to the core, but I have become enchanted by artists like The Good, The Bad and The Queen, The Fray and Amy Winehouse.

Amy Winehouse - “You Know That I’m No Good”

Oh, the wondrous, delightfully-tragic Amy Winehouse. She’s the best thing smokin’ (and drinkin’) right now. This has become the trendy thing to say, and though I usually despise the pretentious nature of anything trendy, I simply cannot fight my audio lust for this British export. If the digital age hadn’t taken over, my repetitive playing of her Back to Black album would have already broken a few tape decks. Within moments of “Rehab,” I’m fully-engulfed in the nostalgic, bitter sounds of a troubled Englishwoman who has reignited old-time soul better than any American singer has in quite some time. Back to Black is a celebration of everything that should be mourned – failed relationships, infidelity, substance abuse – and I almost feel guilty for enjoying it so much. The cheery undertones lifted and twisted from 60’s soul clash beautifully with Winehouse’s somber vocals and content, making the music enjoyable regardless of my mood. Her voice glides comfortably in a space bordered by Etta James-meets-Lauryn Hill and a quasi-current tenor that makes her Billie Holiday’s long-delayed successor.

As Idolator pointed out yesterday, you’ll be hearing similar testimonals ad nauseum in the coming weeks. Hell, you’re best friend is probably bombarding you with the thousandth rewind of “Tears Dry On Their Own” right now; you’re probably loving every second of it, too. It’s only a matter of time before you’re bragging about already being up on Frank, Winehouse’s jazzier debut, before the converted masses knew anything about her.

There’s no need to worry, though; everyone’s a hipster. The Internet has made music so widely-available and rapidly-disseminated, it’s almost impossible not to latch on to the latest media darling. People are so exposed to music, artists who would have been marginalized in previous industry climates are quickly becoming more than just cult-magnets. The time it takes for a singer to go from “on the verge” to full-fledged celebrity has dwindled like a fashion model on coke. That’s why Winehouse transitioned from an underground crooner (in the U.S.) to source material for “Best Week Ever” so quickly.

These days, you’re a hipster before you even get a chance to decide whether or not the music is good. Then again, one could argue that hipsters have a tendency to follow bad music simply because it’s “hip” – designated as cutting-edge and too deep for the pop masses to appreciate. At least they’re starting to reach for artists who are worth more than a snooty badge of honor earned by saying, “I used to like him/her/them before MTV came in the picture.” Early adopters are appreciating music because of its merits rather than its exclusivity. The haughty air of privilege that once defined coolness will soon evaporate.

And just incase you’re still a bit unsure of whether or not you qualify for this ghastly label, watch an episode of “Scrubs.” If any song played on the show can be found in your current rotation, put down that Arcade Fire CD and fall in line with your fellow trendwhores.

Please drink listen responsibly

Oh, you mad 'cause I'm stylin' on you

Everytime I get tired of MC battles, something comes along to remind me how entertaining they can be. I’ve seen on-stage fights, cup-full-of-piss throwing, random genitalia exposures (don’t ask), and even an MC get clowned on stage by judges and audience for telling his opponent, "I'm ’bout to eat your asshole up.” And of course, there’s the infamous “Oh, you mad ’cause I’m stylin’ on you” debacle. But instead of expanding on these classic oddities, I’ll just post this new chapter of the crazy battle chronicles.

[via] Jumpoff.tv

Spartaaaaaa!!!!

Lord help whichever egg infiltrator becomes my firstborn. He can look forward to a lifetime of combat, relentless training and an overbearing father who recites the archetypical battle poetry that passes for inspiration in war movies. My firstborn will be a Spartan.

I finally got around to watching 300, and it was everything that I expected it to be: a bloody, mesmerizing, über-violent epic. It’s the visual mindf**k that has been missing from action movies hell-bent on replicating the now tired tricks that The Matrix invented and perfected eight years ago. I left the theatre with my adrenaline operating at maximum potential and the desire to hit the gym to get rid of this extra person I’ve been lugging around. My hook-ups at the local theatre allow me to watch movies for free, but if I still paid, this would have been well-worth the $7.50 (Note: that’s matinee, too! Prices are truly ridick).

Though the movie’s plot is superficial and tells a complex tale in wobbly, distorted fashion, I loved every minute of it. The gift itself lacks much substance, but the package it’s wrapped in is amazing. I didn’t walk in expecting a grand, epic film; only two hours of stunning violence. 300 met those expectations and earned my forgiveness for Zack Snyder’s poor attempt at giving this film political subtext and socially-relevant undertones. Filmmakers, and maybe people in general, have a bad habit of unnecessarily scratching at complexity. Some things are just meant to be what they are and nothing more. Let the simple things be simple and just embrace its merits.

Why can I accept this premise when it concerns motion pictures, but struggle to apply that same outlook in music? Both are entertainment vehicles that can be better indicators of views (biased as they may be) and social climates than most other outlets. Both have their lowbrow purveyors who appeal to the masses, as well as an ego-stroking community of snooty artists who appeal to critics and self-important hipsters. Yet for all their similarities, I personally hold creators in each medium to very different standards.

I’m the first to admit that Talib Kweli’s music has no place in the club, so there’s a need for dance music. Certain artists and songs deserve a pass for what they’re trying to do, but it’s hard for me to accept that. Though I occasionally grant distinctions and exceptions for MC’s with shallow music, I'm typically so wrapped up in what I like that I can only hear music in terms of good and bad. I can’t rationalize or explain it, but I rarely adapt my tastes.

If only everything in life was as a simple as the “No surrender, No retreat” ethos of Sparta.

Part 1: "Cause the Greatest Rapper of All-Time Died on March 9"

Even though I don't rate him as the GOAT, anyone worth their grey matter knows that Christopher Wallace is an unquestionable legend. HipHopDX.com is honoring his memory with a series of features and pieces for Biggie Week, and my reflective review of Ready to Die is now up. There's something new going up everyday to commemorate the 10th anniversary of Big's passing, and I'm working on something as well that will be placed here on Friday. Until then, I wish you peace throughout your Everyday Struggles.

All around the world...same song

Hip-Hop is an international affair, but that doesn’t hold true in the United States. Though this amazing culture born in the Bronx has been raised in places across the globe, Hip-Hop's foreign exchange has largely been one-sided. Kids from Buenos Aires to Tokyo who don’t speak English can recite lyrics from 50 Cent word for word. Few Americans could do the same for Drunken Tiger, Sway Dasafo, or Loop Troop. I’m surprised if any of you even know who those people are; I get the gas face every time I tell someone that I listen to a couple of Korean, British or Scandinavian artists. Hell, Canada’s directly north of us and we don’t even pay attention to any MC who lives north of the 49th parallel besides Kardinal Offishall.

Is the problem our own arrogance or the inability of foreign artists to measure up? It’s a little bit of both. Americans automatically think that we’re the best, which we are, because we created the art form. Naturally, we’re a little reluctant to believe that anyone outside of the Union can hold a candle to the elite MC’s here. The few “Hip-Hop” artists who do receive a little attention in the U.S. are acquired tastes (to put it nicely), so all foreign MC’s receive a level of skepticism that’s difficult to overcome. It’s unfair but understandable. Still, I find it strange that so many people complain about the state of Hip-Hop but limit what they will listen to. If you have a problem with what’s being released, wouldn’t it make sense to expand the talent pool you draw from? Golden Era Crybabies would greatly benefit from listening to more music from outside the U.S. because there are some gems out there.

Kardinal Offishall (Canada)
“Bakardi Slang” missed the mark, but let’s not forget that Kardi delivered some heat on Quest For Fire. “Ol’ Time Killin’” was one of the best singles released in 2001, and 2005’s Canadian Coke mixtape hit just as hard with “The Burial Song” and the Vybz Kartel-assisted “Everybody’s Gone Gangsta.” Celebrity Face is set to release a new album later this year on Akon’s Konvict Muzik, so take a sneak peek at him now.
Tracks
“Ol’ Time Killin’”
“Everybody’s Gone Gangsta.”
“The Burial Song”
Website: MySpace.com/kardinaloffishall

Promoe (Sweden)
English isn’t Promoe’s native tongue, but that doesn’t stop him from being better than a long list of American MC’s. Though born in Sweden, he raps only in English with a Caribbean-infused cadence. Listen to tracks like “Positive & Negative” and “These Walls Don’t Lie” to hear his exceptional sense of melody and wordplay. Then you'll have to zone in on “Government Music” and the tag team with Anthony B on “Justice” to catch a glimpse of his political and reggae vibe.
Tracks
“Positive & Negative”
“These Walls Don’t Lie”
“Government Music”
“Justice”
Website: Promoe.nu

Rascalz (Canada)
These Vancouver representatives were the ones who got me to listen to Canadian Hip-Hop. The dancehall-inspired “Gunnfinga” really connected with me, and when I heard songs like “Top of the World” and “Fallen” from their Global Warning album, I became an instant fan. Their 2002 album Reloaded didn’t excite me as much and the group has pretty much disappeared, but the Rascalz are/were very entertaining.
Website: Rascalz.ca

Sway Dasafo (England)
After watching the WRC’s last summer, I joked that Brits sound polite even when they’re battling. But this Ghanian-British MC is anything but soft. I’m a fan of “Little Derek,” which features Sway mentioning how even in the United Kingdom, U.S. Hip-Hop carries more weight and fanfare than domestic products. I’m also feeling “Month In the Summer” and “This Is My Demo.”
YouTube: “Little Derek”
Tracks
“Month In the Summer”
“This Is My Demo”
Website: SwayDasafo.com

Tommy Tee (Norway)
There used to be an amazing Scandinavian Hip-Hop website named Svendetta that put me on to a few talented artists. The pick of the litter was easily Norwegian producer Tommy Tee. His samples are rich, beautifully chopped, and his drums are always high-end compositions. He’s like a European blend of Pete Rock and DJ Premiere. Tee is the best European producer that I’ve heard, but he also has worked with a few American artists.
Tracks
“Above Da Law” ft Heltah Skeltah, Starang Wondah, Agallah, and Labba
“Gimme Dat” ft. Stat Quo, Rah Digga and Young Zee.
YouTube: Tommy Tycker Om Mej / Hit the Road / Tæssja (non-English)
Website: TeeProductions.com

To everyone out there, who's a little different

It’s no longer hip to be square. Hip-Hoppers have become so obsessed with crime tales and street lore that being an everyman is a Scarlet Letter of wackness. Of course, things have been that way for some time now, so you’re probably saying, “Welcome to 2002, Kam.” The hellstorm of self-promotion and menacing mystique that propelled 50 Cent to stardom already put 8 million nails in the coffin. Jeezy proudly declaring that he’s “not a rapper” added some dirt and firmly established that back-story is almost as important as beats.

But for some reason, putting that back-story into your music has become passé. As I thumbed threw the latest Scratch magazine, I came across a review that described Brother Ali’s upcoming The Undisputed Truth as “tragically-emo at times.” The reviewer commended Ali’s intelligence and cool, but the aforementioned statement made it seem as if displaying emotion is counter-cool. Even if that was unintentional, the reviewer expressed something that a lot of record label execs, artists and consumers believe: revealing your innermost thoughts or vulnerabilities is un-hip[hop].

There’s a large (probably dominant) segment of hip-hop listeners who don’t want to hear an MC rap about his life. They’ll happily make exceptions if that life consists of pushing weight, but don’t dare think of describing your day-to-day struggle if you walk past Nino Brown on your way to work at the mall. They’ll clamor about hip-hop being lifeless and un-relatable, but they’ll also discredit music that is exceptionally poignant and relevant. Kanye and an occasional MC might get a pass for making a catchy single, but for the most part, Alpine decks are allergic to self-expression.

Everybody wants to hear about a hustler who has enough money to make it rain in the club, but not about the janitor who cleans up that club in order to build a future for his son. Listening to a player who has a bevy of freaks on call is alluring; listening to the man who’s trying save his marriage isn’t. Let’s face it, folks – the music business is in the business of story-telling, and most consumers want their stories extravagant, sexy and unattainable. Real emotions or desires that go beyond C.R.E.A.M. ethos or dead homey memorials are out of style.

After reading Scratch, I gave The Undisputed Truth my first uninterrupted listen since the album leaked. As the bluesy-guitar sounds of “Faheem” pumped through my speaker, I couldn’t believe that anyone could describe this revealing letter to Ali’s son as tragically-emo. I’d hate to see what people would think of the more expressive and commendable “Picket Fence” that anchored Ali’s previous album, Shadows on the Sun. Throughout most of Truth, I sat enthused by Ali’s wordplay and mic control sounding so great over Ant’s always-fitting backdrops. But I soon felt a slight sense of disappointment that most hip-hop fans would never enjoy the album. Ali’s mastered the microphone and the pen, but not the games that listeners want rappers to play. If only he killed a couple of people, got shot a few times or at least participated in a few hand-to-hand transactions. Maybe then he’d get the respect he deserves.

It’s strange that emotion is linked to weakness because most MC’s on everyone’s Greatest of All-Time list have always been willing to share their sentiments with others. Had they subscribed to hip-hop’s current school of thought, 2Pac would have thrown much of his catalogue back into the Death Row vaults and Nas would have let his best work languish in the decrepit halls of Queensbridge. Biggie would have washed away the dust and grime of Ready to Die in favor of only showing the glitz of “Mo’ Money, Mo’ Problems.” Many of hip-hop’s greatest artists, songs and works never would have become so ingrained in our collective consciousness. How tragic that would have been.

Kamwatch: I still exist

Don't be alarmed; I'm still here. I took some time off to enjoy graduation, get a few resume packets together and maintain my wits while stacking clips. The gentleman to your left took up much of that time as I was interviewing him for this feature that I'm proud of. I'm also working on another feature for Pulse that will be up in a couple weeks, which took up a GANG of my time. I've never put so much into a story: footwork, records searching, chasing sources, interviews - I had to do it all. Well, enough of that. Here's a quick rundown of the other stuff that I've done that aren't too timely but still up if it interests you.

** UPDATED ** "Encore" - Sean Price Interview @ AHH
Sean Price is experiencing a mild case of heart burn. After being unappreciated as a member of Heltah Skeltah and the Boot Camp Clik for more than 10 years, Price finally ventured out on his own with 2005’s Monkey Barz, a debut brimming with sharp wordplay and cohesive melodies. The album received plenty of praise, but critical acclaim can’t feed your children, which became a serious problem for the self-proclaimed Brokest Rapper You Know.

Styles P - Time Is Money Review
Few albums are as aptly or unfortunately titled as Styles P's (Ruff Ryders/Interscope). Four years since the release of his gold-selling solo debut, A Gangster & A Gentleman, Styles has seen much of his shelf-life and earning potential waste away. The Lox member has been hobbled by industry politics, label drama and a prison bid that kept him locked-up while the Ruff Ryders Empire weakened. SP the Ghost is finally ready to make up for missed opportunities and release his sophomore effort, which flaunts the husky and street-savvy lyrics that keep fans clamoring for the D-Block representative.

Talib Kweli & Madlib - Liberation
Hip-Hop's collaborative spirit is quite healthy right now. The past few years have sparked several full-length pairings of MC's and producers eager to show their strength in numbers. Industry-wide, artists have frequently connected to jump genres, mesh styles and redefine the scope of modern music. After MC/singer Cee-Lo Green and producer Danger Mouse mesmerized ears as Gnarls Barkley in 2006, people are definitely eager to hear more of their favorite artists work together.

Trick Daddy - Back by Thug Demand Review
Things just aren’t the same for gangsters. Songs associated with dance moves rule the airwaves, so any recording artist who isn’t snapping or leaning along has to be especially on point to be a force on music charts. So what should an MC known for bold thuggery do in this evolving rap climate? Absolutely nothing.Miami native Trick Daddy breezes through the winds of change with Back by Thug Demand, the seventh chapter of his criminally-minded chronicle. While many of his peers have attempted to evolve and show growth as artists, T Double D’s music and album titles have flaunted his stationary state of mind. He even uses the album’s introduction to mock those who ask, “Do you have anything else to talk about?”