Wednesday, November 06, 2019

Something Sinister To It

I recently stumbled upon Rap For Grown Ups.  The site claims to offer “notes from the intelligent side of hip-hop.”  Rather than providing thoughtful analysis, it mostly supplies notifications about new releases.  Even so, it’s a helpful reference for old heads eager to discover relevant music that doesn’t get the shine of the latest work of ostensibly “unintelligent” hip-hop stars.

While I abhor cretins like Lil Mosey, I’ve never hid my affection for intentionally lowbrow stars like Cardi B, Doja Cat and DJ Khaled.  That’s another way of suggesting that I object to killjoys who summarily dismiss the best party music of the last decade.  Three recent releases falling more-or-less under the nebulous banner of “intelligent hip-hop” captured my attention.

Although he’s just 25, Thebe Kgositsile, the world-weary rapper who makes dyspeptic music as Earl Sweatshirt, already sounds like an old man.  Feet of Clay is 15 minutes of murky avant-garde experimentation.  Nothing he creates is likely to hit me as hard as Doris did in 2013, but I’ll always be more than willing to give Kgositsile the benefit of the doubt.

The Kansas City collective Drop Dead XX creates a simulacrum of Earl Sweatshirt on Dirtbike.  They’re also in thrall of Brockhampton, EarthGang and Tyler, the Creator.   Dirtbike is solid, but I hope the members of Drop Dead XX are able to move beyond their influences on future projects.

Now that I’ve regretfully demoted Kanye West, Brother Ali might be my favorite rapper.  Secrets & Escapes is filled with his grateful mysticism and producer Evidence’s dusty grooves.  Brother Ali's seventh studio album overflows with sublime rap for grownups.


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I define terms at Plastic Sax in advance of my appearance on the Ask a Jazz Dude show.

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I make weekly concert recommendations for The Kansas City Star.

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The Chicago Reader gave me a photo credit for an image that accompanies a story about Bill MacKay.  I took the shot of MacKay and Nathan Bowles at the 2018 edition of the Cropped Out festival in Louisville.

(Original image by There Stands the Glass.)

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