” Jay Electronica is the most profoundly entertaining of all rappers, bar none. Every next rap sounds like the new deepest shit a rapper ever said, some real ghetto Kahlil Gibran type stuff. If Hip-Hop, academia, and pseudomagic/conspiracy theories are what you’re into, google the noir. He’s cold dope. There’s a big difference between raps that are just millions of punchlines, and raps that all punch you in the stomach and catch you tripping. Dude is both, I be like “word? Dude said that? And that? And that?? Cowabunga!” Jay Electronica is the Master Splinter of rap. That sounds crazy, right? Well, money is grimy as fuck, and he gets on all sorts of next beats.
The Eternal Sunshine is legitimately one of the nicest pieces anyone has put out into the Hip-Hop world in quite some time. I even went and downloaded the Jim Carrey movie. I even went and rewatched Liar,Liar (okay, that’s not true. Hah!) Jazzmatazz is doper than any rap song you listened to today. Unless you’ve heard a Jay Elect track today, in which case I know we feel the same way on this one. Shiny Suit Theory is a true clash of the titans in this bitch, and the dudes are on the same team! “
I be meditating on Act 2: Will it make my dreads explode?
They call me Jay Electronica
Call me Jay ElecHannukah
Muhammad Asalaamica RasoulAllah
Supana Watallah through your monitor
My Uzi still Weighs A Ton check the barometer
Growing up, I listened to a lot of music. A lot. I’m talking Uncle Luke, Bach, and Fela. That’s a whole lot of soul, bro; I used to ride the bus to the school with Marvin Gaye blasting out my old Sony Walkman headphones, sounding like the echoes of a tin voice. A dude once tapped me on my shoulder and let me know he could hear all those Talib Kweli swear-words. I should have told him like Kweli told me: Listen!
I remember tapes with the same fondness I remember that old Super Sega: strictly dope. Even today, I consider mixtapes wack unless it’s at least 20 different MC’s on there. In the early 90s, my little fingers were perfect for rewinding bleeding tapes. In the mid-90s, they were only good for writing book reports, smudging (both) Life After Death Cds and smashing ninjas with either Pikachu or Link. Only Kirby I was ever about made Doctor Doom. That’s a MF Doom joke for ya. I had the red and white Fisher Price tape player with the microphone and the handle on top- I walked all around my crib recording large raps over my dad’s favourite reggae tapes. My bad…
I also recall those mini pianos- you know, the useless ones. The ones with maybe 10 or 11 programmed loop samples, and a handful of instrument variations- tuba, brass, high-hat, stuff like that. Those things required more D batteries than the homie Radio Raheem boom box, mothafucka! I spent many hours trying to figure out the piano… utterly no avail. When Pokemon Silver dropped, my taste evolved to AA batteries. Two of em. I guess I never really saw myself as much of a pianist… Thank God for Pete Rock and Yeezy!
Look Out For Those EPICMIXTAPES
Be A Man! Do The Right Thing
I have a dirty little secret; a guilty pleasure: I am seriously feeling that Ke$ha lady. To begin with, the bitch is a friggin’ animal. She’s quite sexy in pictures. Beyond that, that song D.I.N.O.S.A.U.R. Is straight dope. No BS, I might go listen to it right now… I’m just a young man! And if it comes down to the brass tacks, yes, I’m hitting on her- wut?!
Gwen Stefanie rolls way too deep with those ninjas and stuff (although her music is obviously bananas), Lady Gaga haunts my nightmares, Miley Cyrus is a country singer, Taylor Swift is not gangster enough and I don’t like her music videos, and Elly Jackson… well that’s Kanye/Hova bitch. And Kreayshawn… Man, that chick cra. I like Ke$ha cuz I know she’s about a dollar and a dope night. That’s fun.
Bro, if you smoke on herbs, don’t trip: I call my shit mushroom clouds. Don’t think too much about that
It’s a Thursday. I am not inside my zone, but that’s okay. If I could, this morning I would write with both eyes closed just to get my point across. Coming soon: slow motion videos.
It’s the weekend. That’s wrd to The Weeknd! Yea! I swear I haven’t heard an artist referred to by his first name so much since Kayne… I’m still not too sure what to make of the S in S.Carter, but this is Toronto, still- maybe some of my people really do know dude. Either way, the young singer is pretty dope. I harbor the suspicion that his music could be better while high on drugs… maybe. He said it, not me.
The quiet, airy falsetto is nice to me. Party music in slow motion; I would love to zone to this (I’m actually listening to Love Game right this instant- the house part is craaaazy!) song while speeding around town in something luxurious, with someone sexy and lugubrious. This is certainly no Ipod music. Caught between super emotional heart bleeding and ballin’-ass raging, I’d say this captures a pretty wide range experiences. Plus it sounds good. The pianos and the harmonies make this thing feel like molasses. Thick molasses; it brings me back to my childhood, when I didn’t even know I liked molasses… Warm breakfasts, feeling all rich and buttered and cushy and swathed and stuff. I’m pretty sure molasses is a gateway food.
You should probably sip this one slow.
Sunday, March 25, 2012 · Dovi Henry · 1 Comment
I had an argument with my boy a little while ago. He said Kanye made the beats, Kanye made the Kanye verses, Kanye made a ladies’ fashion like, and Kanye revealed his ZONE. I was like ‘word.’ Jay-Z got all comfy in Kanye’s ZONE and… well, he rapped real good on a reasonable number of tracks. I’m sure Kanye’s ZONE is a very pleasant place. Imsane raps all over the place near the donuts.
Run DMC was the shit to me when i was a kid. That’s as real as it gets. In the same sentence, I might get to illin’ all while enjoying something ill. The thing is, something I never really cared about was a Run vs DMC discussion, I mean… when do you sit down for that discussion? Run hit it. It’s Run’s House. But… Perfection? Dawg!
Rakim Allah and Erik B? C’mon, son! I mean, what’s cooler? The Cool Kids, or The Throne? What do the mathematics have to say on that debate? You’d look a little bonkers talking to a chair, I’ll tell you that much, monet. When it comes to the Niggas In Paris Show aka Watch The Throne Tour, I can only say it was dope. Hov did his thing, and Ye sprinted around the stage and wore a cross between a dress, a piece of samurai armor, some African tribal cloth, and a kilt. It was all good.
When it comes down to it, Jay-Z said “I’m a tortured soul, I live in disguise. Rest in peace to the leader of the Jackson- Fie!” “My tears is tatted, my rag in my pocket. I’m just lookin’ for love; I know somebody- Goddart” You gotta be kiddin’ me! I been tellin’ y’all for a while now, this Jay-Z Rocafella fellow knows what he’s doing! If only he were still pimpin’…
First and foremost, shoutout my nigga Koni. Tell Kofi I said ‘hello,’ anon. G, you know all these bitch niggas keep using your name for talking too tough. Don’t stress, family! You know we hold you down like nylon pants. lawl Also, fuck you. Stop touching on all the lil kids. You’re not a priest, my nigga. You need to take down the Mike Jackson poster, for real though. Just take a seat, kick back, and let me give you a little bit of strong advice. Because my bitches have nothing better to discuss lately than you and all this messed up ‘good weather’. It’s bullshit.
What you need to do is just chill on all the 50 Cent torrents. You cannot recreate the G-unit, and I do not care how successful you’ve been in your attempts. That shit is not real life, and all them lil’ African women gave birth to all those kids by choice. Stop stealing them, stop giving them automatic weapons. Making me feel nerfous. I mean, I know you tryna hold it down for the whole fam, which means your ten or twelve kids (not including female offspring, I know how y’all get down) and their five or six thousand little scrappy punk-ass friends. What do you get when you put 29 people under the age of 17 in one room, and give them old Beanie Sigel mixtapes? A fucking militia! So stop it nigga! You African, muhfucka! You a Congo drum beating… asshole! Don’t you know Madonna or somebody ballin’ like that might buy them kids? Cash, dawg! America, British, maybe even Canadian dollars. So why you trippin’? I mean, you gotta figure out a way to catch some younger children (you know they stop being cute when they turn 12) … or somehow produce some chemically… but you know what I’m about.
Also, I hear that nigga Barack been searching for less bitch-made soldiers. Ones who actually think war is a videogame. You clearly make Colin look like a lil biatch! haha yea. Maybe you could get a job with Biggerer Brother. But seriously though: you’re about to cause a ruckus. Just chill.
Secondly, all y’all haters, y’all facebook blahblahblah type kids, and white people in general, shut your mouth. The more people are interested in Africa, the more Africa will know that we’re over here, listening to Waka Flocka Flame music all shamelesly, refusing to read books and not actually catching any pokemon- except maybe a few espions… We don’t actually murder people or arbitrarily decide to around these parts. Duh. I do not want that Koni guy thinking he can just send his stupid little army over the sea. I don’t need that beef, alright? Just leave him alone, aren’t a bunch of angry Iriquous enough? Jeez!
I have a suggestion: here’s what we do. Fill a bunch of planes with old Erika Badu tapes, all the copies of Food & Liquor you can find, because Koni obviously only heard that one song, or maybe that similar song that came out earlier. Also hit up Welcome Back. I’ll donate my copy, and I’m sure Ma$e wouldn’t mind letting go of a few hundred copies himself. Load em up, then just drop em like it’s hot. Make it rain over those little Congolese child soldiers so they can get some real shit in their life. No Bono. Get Jay-Z to autograph a copy of Kingdom Come (if he has any copies left in his mansion in Paris or the Vatican or wherever that nigga be at these days) and let me straight up deliver it to dude.
Because I been going to school. I read The Republic. I know it’s fucked up to try to claim you want somebody drop. Do it yourself, fucker #nopoison. To take a life yourself, and to order the removal of a soul from this plane are equivalent. That would be conspiracy. No court? No appeals, you just want that nigga to die? Really? Fuck, what’s a little effortless publicity, right? Well, put it this way: I don’t give a shit about one more person. People kill theyself daily, it’s tough out here! You gotta bring little children into my day to day like that? That’s small, Koni… fuck, man, that’s some small shit. I’m still annoyed about Katrina, bro.
damn. I would follow that milkshake all the way to yard
Man, the weather has been nice lately-that basically means I’ve been extremely happy lately. The clothes on all these pretty people been real fresh, my public resentment of coats has finally been fully appreciated, and these young rappers have been setting it off. How could I ignore an album with a with a joint on it called King and Queens, featuring both Nas and Wale? How could I ignore an album with a J.Cole feature, a Pharrell hook, a Big Sean verse…
Straight out the gates you know this young Tyga is a real popular dude. Plus he raps good! Plus the beats sound great. This one of those cool times when I have barely even head of dude, but I know I’m feeling this album. I’m only five tracks in, but I know I’m feeling this. I think I just fell in love with Wynter. That’s crazy. This some of that young kind shit, which you know I’m all about; that and some good weed music. Good thing big Wiz Khalifa’s still out here grinding and rolling papers!
That joint is real nice. Smooth and original beats that somehow got me thinking of Mo Better Blues, maybe it’s the instrumental track ‘Number 16.’ Maybe it’s that I’m feeling this line:”I seen it coming’, yea I seen it coming- do everything for these niggas, they treat you like you did nothing.” But mainly I’m feeling that beat. Like a happy subway ride in a English film. Top off my coffee… That Dumont guy is donuts. Plus, I’m sure Tyga, Wiz, and I would all agree: Fuck a hater! I got a friggin’ frequent potty mouth; who’s afraid of the big bad Busta? Not my favourite rappers, these days. I mean, I wouldn’t want the man to hurt me, so, I’m just happy to hear rap music with ill vibes and niggas what might eat somebody food.
A few years ago, I read a magazine article about Robin Thicke that fucked up my day; now I’m pleased to still hear the man smoothing out tracks for the kid. Mystic Aka Mado Mieuru and This Is Like are a pay day in July. I had to get to Brainstorming just to air it out a little bit; my mood never changed.
I need a bottle of lightning, some sibling rivalry, someone something and some quiet sun. Pronto.
You know, you know you’re doing something right when folks start repping you too hard. The whole internet exploded in a unified ‘LOFAO’ a little while ago, all over ‘DRAKE.’ That’s how you know it’s real. I hope he at least found the whole thing humorous. Then there’s the fact that the Toronto boy wonder sold out his mixtape all over the place. After he gave it away for free. Plus, I mean, have you seen that Best I Ever Had video? Trust me, it’s the illest thing since that T.A.T.U. video way back. Yea.
Drizzy Drake is on Made, Made Men, On To The Next One, and that Wildfire joint that came out last summer. Plus he’s got two actual albums under his belt. Some people hate, but… c’mon, son! He brought the Weeknd to the forefront, and he pointed out that you only live once. Or was that Ross… There aren’t a whole lot of prominent mixtape MCs anymore, but Drake undeniably established himself as a rapper on the underground before he blew up. That’s one of those slightly annoying facts, like when people point out that the dude is mega popular. Sorry. So Far Gone was pretty good, and people often praise Comeback Season- frankly, I was like ‘meh.’ (I really hope that YOLO mixtape drops. And maybe the Wayne/Drizzy album. Or just another Drake album within the next year would be nice.)
If you don’t respect that your whole perspective is wack.
Let me put it to you like this: I’m a skinny dude. Once, some random chick described me as ‘lithe’ and I’ve been ever so slightly in love with her ever since. Me being the man that I am, I’ve always respected big people. That’s big in the sense of… weight. As such, Ricky Rozé is one of my top rappers these days. He even raps real good!
Here’s the skinny: I wasn’t originally too impressed by Hustlin’, or any of Ross’ other early hits. One day, I heard that joint Lay Back (ft. Robin Thicke) and I was like ‘this right here? This right here is all sorts of phat!” The sounds were lush, the hook is nice, and it’s an all around smooth song. A few years later, BMF dropped and convinced me that I think I’m Big Meech, whoever that is… Now every day I’m hustlin’.
Teflon Don dropped and it was simply dope. I don’t want to call it a classic, but I’m saying I still might cop some Bose headphones and blast that album till I cry tears of joy, no offense to the good Dr. Dre of course. I’m saying I still might turn around and buy the disk, no offense to Mister ‘Work!’
I might boom Rich Forever forever, if not all summer. Not a lot of big rappers drop mixtapes, especially not high quality efforts like this- John Legend is on it!!! Joints like Yella Diamonds, Stay Schemin’ (Remix, LOL) and Holy Ghost are all tough tracks. I was also big on that 300 Soldiers joint. I forget what mixtape that’s from; either way, my appetite is wet about that God Forgives, I Don’t. Please excuse the pun.
I am a big lover of pie. I have been known to refer to pie over 9 million times in a single sitting. Lately, I’ve had a hankering for a slice of sweet blueberry pie with maybe a little cream. When I was younger, I realized that the only reasonable way for me to keep my roving sweet tooth in check would be to learn to bake my cakes and cookies and pies myself. Besides learning the value of an oz, I discovered a valuable truth: baking not only leads to delicious food, it’s somehow relaxing to wait while the oven does its thing, knowing that my creation would soon be prepared. Not to mention the sexiness of golden crust.
Apple pie is my favourite, so around Thanksgiving I tend to make a lot of those. The smell of cinnamon, chopped apples and Coltrane is an indelible combination. 45 minutes of light work pays off in the form of a warm apple pie.
At Thanksgiving time, it’s nice to smell dessert baking, warm and sweet. Regardless of the day, it’s good to be thankful for what we have in order to continue to accurately move forward.
Update: I much prefer it when a female friend bakes for me. It turns out that whole baking with ‘love’ is no BS. Plus that just makes waiting a whole lot easier.