RAVEN MACK is a mystic poet-philosopher-artist of the Greater Appalachian unorthodox tradition who publishes zines & physical books & electronic books & music & photography & digital art & just generally whatever feels necessary to survive this deluded earth thru Rojonekku Word Fighting Arts survival systems (Version 69, establish 14 Feb 1973). Comments encouraged.

Tuesday, August 9

J.J. Krupert Top 13 Countdown - June '11 #8: "Barry Horowitz" by Action Bronson


Look, when I was pumping Action Bronson like crazy, that was three months ago, for it to make the June Krupert list, so I don't necessarily feel the same way now in retrospect that I did when I was like, "OH SHIT, CHECK OUT THIS FAT FUCK WHITE DUDE TALK ABOUT GRILLIN TUNA STEAKS ON YOUTUBE!" His music is awesome, but it's not awesome in a gonna-make-the-best-rap-album-in-twenty-years awesome. He's no groundbreaker; but he's great at what he does - nostalgia rap for those unwavering boom baptists amongst us who refuse to accept this new form of blip bloop hip hop worship as an authentic form of soulful expression. And let's face it, regardless of how caught up in this rapidly changing world we get, there are times when riding down the road in a cleaned up Mercury Grand Marquis, with the windows down but AC on high, smoking blunts at 2:30 on a Tuesday afternoon because the sunshine made us do it makes perfect sense. And Action Bronson is the perfect fucking soundtrack for such moments.
I have no problem with throwback raps, and often the white boy into hip hop in me causes me to wear actual throwback jerseys. I get them off the ebays usually, or straight from China, always bootleg, but don't give me that "authentic" vs. "bootleg" shit, because even the real ones you get from actual licensed stores online come from China, and probably get made next door to the same ones you buy for $19 each plus shipping illegally. It's not like those big businesses are using that extra cost to treat American workers with respect and dignity, and toss them great medical benefits. No, them motherfuckers are using the same Chinese laborers, same materials, and pocketing the difference, minus advertising costs to trick you into believing that shit is necessary in the first place. So if you don't buy your stitched jerseys bootlegged from China, then you are a fucking mark.
That being said, I actually like the bootlegs even better, because they have oddities about them that you wouldn't find with the quality control of the bonafide (being they have to justify the added expense to the consumer). In fact, I often think the bootlegs are probably just from the same factory, but the lots that didn't pass QC in the first place. I've got a Julius Erving high school jersey that's an ugly ass yellow, and when I washed it one time the stitching got all loose and some of the numbering borders came apart so it hangs funny, but actually looks even better. It has a tag on it that says 58 OF 75, like there's only 75 of them on earth. I bet if I ever ran into another dude who had one on, his would be 58 of 75 too. But that's okay. I just like rocking the Chinese bootleg throwbacks because they make my dick feel half an inch bigger, and also I want to do whatever I can to expedite the downfall of our western capitalist system.
STEAL "Barry Horowitz"
NEXT:
once had a catfish in a trailer named after this song!

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