I've been having lots of conversations about timbaland recently, which believe me, is as unusual for me as it is for you. There's been conversations about his merits as a rapper (divided opinions), conversations about his contribution to pop music (more than anyone has the right to ask for), to one particularly uproarious laughing fit with my lady centered around the difference in his attitude from jermaine dupri (jermaine's all about getting respect for what he's done, timbo's more like "fuck everything I've done, I'm dope now!"). While all that was going on timbaland actually went reinvented himself. This sh*t is dope. I don't know where these dudes are from but they're seriously old school atl flowing like a motherf**ker on here; And I wasn't really watching the video but judging from the thumbnail, yeah timbo is still making those faces.
Oh this sh*t is ill. If you don't like alternative music that's not afraid to get ugly then just move on. Though If that's true, I hope you realize those are issues you're going to have to address at some point.
I can't wait to see this right here, organized Noize mean a lot to a motherf**ker like me. They were probably the first time I'd heard something in rap that felt new. Now when you look back it's not just the amount of classics they've created but the variety too. I mean, when curtis mayfield lay dying in a hospital bed, it's organized noize that he called to make his last album. If that doesn't say it all then you're f**king wildin'.
I'm telling you man, we're moving into a new era as far as aliases go. I've seen a lot of wild ones but this is definitely one of my favorites. I just wonder if life on other planets would have our same preoccupation with skin tones. I feel that they'd probably have their own arbitrary lines to draw. Or is it that you're just an alien, doing alien sh*t, getting hated on by other aliens for having dry tentacles or whatever, and you don't even know you're light skinned until you crash on earth? Where everybody's so busy showing you you're black that they don't even notice your f**king tail.
February 14th, 2016 will go down in the record books as the first time in NBA history there will be no white players on either of the all star teams. With that in mind, I present to you this informative? news piece called "Where has all the white NBA players gone?"
The best way to screen this is with the sound off while listening to "Fear of a Black Planet". Let Chuck D scream at you while you watch Jerry West's nub of a penis retract into his scrotum as he suggests that the zone defense was brought into the league to allow white players to defend more competitively. This slightly confederate expose also makes a clear distinction between white European players and white American players. Mark Price had no comment as to whether or not they smell any different.
Twenty sixteen baby! I'm utterly flabbergasted by this and frankly I love them for it. Notice weezy in the ovo sweatsuit. You have to respect the way weezy supported drake, assuming he hasn't "baby'd" him of course.
All girl RnB groups were my jam in the nineties. After reading a bunch of favorable reviews for King's debut record it occurred to me that there really hasn't been an RnB girl group* that's not a bunch of cornballs post Destiny's Child. That's a long f**king time. Quest loves em, Erykah loves em, Prince loves em. I haven't gone too deep* but this video/song is dope though. I could see myself dancing to this at an afterhours party, slightly on the comedown, drifting in and out of hating and loving somebody. A+ for the Nintendo inspired visuals, reminds me of the hours I put into making Excitebike courses. Ramp after ramp after motherf**kin’ ramp.
Editor's Note: Did you hear this one? This sh*t is amazing.
This sh*t right here! I don't want to take away from it's individuality but that hardly matters i this case because this sh*t is beautiful. It sounds as if one of the jagged edge twins broke up with his longtime live in girlfriend and took a deep dive into depression, where after a sustained period of missing rehearsals, refusing to sing leads, and showing up to shows in leather when they agreed on denim and denim when they agreed on leather, he was kicked out of the group. If he then got with the rza and the rza started spitting that science and mathematics in his ear, pulled out a three stringed guitar, and they made a track, it would sound like this. It would be perfect. Which I shouldn't have to tell you but who knows what's going on with you nowadays.
Jay sent me the link to this series of photographs called "old new york" by camilo jose vergara. As he no doubt knew, it's all shot in my favorite decade, the seventies. Unfortunately the seventies were not kind to the south bronx and les. So much so, that by the end of the decade it had inspired vergara to shift his focus and systematically photograph the decay in the urban landscape. Now I obviously learned all this just mere moments ago but as far as life work goes, this motherf**ker's doing it right. He's been taking pictures at regular intervals from the same spots in various neigborhoods in nyc, camden and newark, detroit, chicago, gary, and los angeles. If you like that kind of thing, it's f**king beautiful and sad and triumphant and sad again. It could also just be a tab you leave open but never end up clicking on. I can't tell you which one is best for you.