We a faculty. And I’m the team leader.

For those who haven’t been paying attention to the internet, Lil B’s New York debut last weekend was an unquestionable success. This was a slightly unexpected turn of events. You never really know how internet buzz is going to translate to the real world, more often than not it simply doesn’t. Bombing seemed especially likely given both the locale and just how divisive B has grown in recent months. When I first walked into the sold out show and saw the crowd my initial concern was that a bunch of hating ass New Yorkers had paid $8 just to boo him. But no, the joint was packed instead with Master Chefs, kids who knew every song by heart and partied their brains out. Wooh!s and Swag!s filled the room and continued to echo out through the Manhattan streets for at least the 20 or 30 minutes that followed his performance. After more than a year of blogging about all things Based to such a mixed response, to walk into that room was a really fulfilling experience. Not in the flag planting, my support made this happen self importance that so many bloggcats wallow in – I’m well aware that B makes the internet, the internet didn’t make him – but rather for the simple realization that I’m not completely crazy. Other people, breathing people, are beginning to see what I saw in the kid so many months ago.^[1] There was a sense of pride to the whole experience, like watching your little brother graduate high school. I don’t think I was the only person in that room who felt that way either.

One of the early criticisms when I started posting Based music here so long ago was that I was just posting records from “my friend.” I suppose that was true to an extent, but only in the sense that everyone who listens to B’s music long enough becomes a friend of sorts. Or at least they feel that way. Admittedly this could be seen as a conflict of interests in my case, but if “friendship” is the primary currency and intent of his art – and I think it might be – then to not allow yourself to be one would be a critical misread. B’s gotten a ton of press in the aftermath of Santos – heat can make anything move – but the responses have been tentative, negative, cursory or confused. What you don’t see in the RealTalkNY video is the crowd’s margins, a minority of wall holders who watched curiously but rarely engaged. This was the audience that B’s internet detractors imagined would solely inhabit his show – mostly 25 and up, white, bearded, “hipster” chin strokers. I suspect this is where many of the people writing about the show stood, both physically and metaphorically, and I think that shows in their responses. If you’re observing B from a safe distance then you’re missing the point. The friendship model demands immersion. You ain’t in the game until you’ve heard a thousand songs. Or at least until you’ve tried to cook in the mirror. (more…)

Lil B – “T-Shirt And Buddens (Joe Buddens Diss)“

from Limelinx (Internet, 2010)

This just in from the news nobody actually cares about but will talk about anyway because we’re bored on the internet department: Lil B and Joe Buddens have been embroiled in a twitter beef. I haven’t done a RAPP BEEF WRAPP UPP in a little while because that shit is just not interesting anymore but since people seemed worked up that I didn’t address the punch heard around the world (is this site usually your first stop for youtube/worldstar fuckery play-by-plays?) and because it has spilled over into the realm of rap music I guess I’ll have at it.

In a lot of ways Buddens, who is wholly insufferable as both a rapper and an internet persona, is like the evil version of B. Both are immersed in the internet at an almost creepy level and use it for the purpose of passion, productivity and attention grabbing antics. Except where B generally uses these techniques in the interest of positivity, Joe’s toxically negative in his approach. Joe’s easily the better rapper on a technical level but he’s got an extra ten years or so under his belt to account for that. And his music lacks the ideas, charisma and creativity that truly make the Based God worth paying attention to.

In chasing down the timelines it’s hard to tell exactly how the altercation started, but here’s my rough outline. (more…)

Born Busy – “That’s My Man Throwing Down (Acapella)“

from Demo (1988)

Strictly Dope – “A Day In The Life”

Strictly Dope – “My Burnin Heart”

from Demo (1989) / The Lost Tapes (ZYX, 2000)

Because I read on twitter that today would have been 2Pac’s birthday it seemed like the right time to finally set off this series that has been bouncing around in the back of my brain and the front of my saved posts. Pac is arguably the most important rapper of all time (other than Drake, of course) but as of late the discourse around him in rap circles/our circles/teh blogosphere seems limited at best in recent years. At least compared to popular interest. Pac’s problem is that he defies middlebrow analysis. The streets love him because they mostly see his blustering rage, overlooking the sensitive art school kid and Panther descendent who played a role so well that most, including him, forgot (or just hoose to ignore) that he was playing a role. The academic world considers him because they are aroused by that contradiction. Nothing baits the ivory towers like dichotomy.

So he’s canonized by some as thug, others as a poet, many as confused, but rarely as just a rapper. Is that because he wasn’t a very good rapper? This has long been the relative rationalization in the blogosphere^[1], a forum where Pac is chronically undrepresented. For many our circle, a world where acts like Hard 2 Obtain and Totally Insane (both good groups, naturally) are hailed as unheralded legends, he is a footnote. But back in the real world, he’s the most influential rapper of all time. For better or worse. Well, mostly worse. With few exceptions, most of Pac’s obvious successors have filtered out only the worst of his character traits. Very few picked up on his intensity, work ethic or revolutionary themes but they did adopt his overblown thugisms, unnecessarily dramatic adlibs and penchant for valuing quantity over quality. These things happen.^[2]

But surely the most visible rapper on the planet must have had some success at rapping? We all fawn over his descendants to varying degrees, so he must have done something right. So I am stepping to the plate and giving a thorough listen to the entire living Pac catalog. Not just the albums, but whatever else I can get my hands on – cameos, remixes, demos. At least until I, or you, get bored. Being a sentient rap music listener in the 90s, I know most of his singles, a couple by heart, and owned a few of the albums, but was never a Pac head like that. This project will be an exploration for me, learning by immersion. I’m sure any Pac stans that check this site already have everything and then some, but whatever. One of the more frustrating things about Pac’s body of work is that it’s not only immense, but also scattered and recontextualized thanks to the rampant necrophilism that surrounds it. As such I’m trying to approach his catalog with a loose eye for chronology and put a lot of those random verses in a proper historical perspective. So tonight we starting at the top with a look at some early demos. Jump for words. (more…)

Earlier today DX posted my lengthy interview with Richie Rich. The Oaktown legend was particularly candid about his many hustles from flipping ki’s to flipping burgers. And rapping, too.