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.

Friday, March 10

[HH3os] Hell Hath No Fury Like Da Food & Liquor Drought 3 trio

(1st round match-up 5 of 27)

My motivation to give expert analysis about the aging hip hop waxes and wanes, but here we are, back at it again, with this convoluted project of facing off in 3-way dances of battle, as it was meant to be (not really). Sigh. This is the internet.

Lupe Fiasco – Food & Liquor
(released September 19, 2006; #32 on 2006 Pitchfork Albums of the Year list)
When yung Lupe came out, soccer moms approved. He was white woman with toddlers appropriate, thus my own firstborn had one of her first “hip hop moments” by loving on “Kick Push” like a motherfucker. I remember her and her little friends (they were not toddlers but like tweens or some shit whereabouts that time of living) jamming out to some Lupe.
It is difficult at times to encourage hip hop with the kids, because I ain’t really trying to have my children be like “fuck that” right away in life, which is an easily acquired philosophy (and phrase) if exposed too early to too much Parental Advisory sticker downloads. This album is not as squeaky clean as we pretended back then probably, but it’s also pretty jazz club chill at the same time. Lupe was a clever fucker, though perhaps not as clever as he eventually figured himself to be. (I guess that’s hard to avoid falling victim to in the music industry.) The fact I’m making myself listen to these albums two times through was very telling though, as the first time I enjoyed the nostalgic memories associated with Food & Liquor, but by the time I got through the second review listen, man, I was fucking bored. It doesn’t help that there’s a fucking 10-minute shout out track at the end. Like I could understand that on a mixtape, filling up space, but this was a bonafide record release with posters at stores and shit (if that still existed at that time)… why the fuck you got a 10-minute shout out track? Put that shit in the liner notes, or if liner notes were R.I.P. already, make a tumblr post of that shit. Goddamn, Lupe
Still though, I put it at THREE STARS because it made me feel chill, like doing mindfulness exercises during diversity seminars at large employers.

Clipse – Hell Hath No Fury
(released November 28, 2006; #7 on 2006 Pitchfork Albums of the Year list)
As previously mentioned, as a Virginia native, I’m supposed to support Clipse unequivocally, but if I’m being honest, I find them boring after a while, especially the further away from Pusha it pushes. And also to be honest, man, fuck some Pharrell. Whenever the Skateboard P (or whatever the fuck they called him at this point) fingerprints get all over a song, the song starts to suck. He cuts the possibility of raw shit with pop fluff, even if it’s alleged street pop. Fuck that shit.
TWO STARS, and probably with jets from fucking Virginia Beach doing maneuvers over top as well. They got all that black helicopter shit in Virginia, with Norfolk/Virginia Beach at one end, and then Quantico and all that Illuminati remote viewing bullshit as you head towards DC, not to mention the secret entrance to the underground facility beneath West Virginia is actually on this side of Afton Mountain along I-64 at an abandoned rest stop. I’ve investigated. I know.

Lil Wayne – Da Drought 3
(released April 13, 2007; #16 on 2007 Pitchfork Albums of the Year list)
I mentioned with Dedication 2 earlier in this dumb project how Best Rapper Alive era mixtape Lil Wayne felt overrated in retrospect. And my first time going through this CD, I was still on that tip. I started to thaw, but then the tape ended with that wack ass cover of “Crazy” where Lil Wayne starts to dabble in that “let me be an experimental musician” phase, and then there’s a 10-minute shout out track after that to close out the mixtape (which I made fun of with Lupe Fiasco already).
But I don’t know, I guess it got warm out or something, but second time through, everything clicked again like promethazine soda, sitting by the river. Wayne sounded as immaculate as he did when this mixtape era prime was in its prime. I felt car wash fresh, and really didn’t give a fuck about anything as much as I should’ve. Electric bill due? Fuck it. Minivan sound like transmission dragging behind you? Probably is, fuck it though, turn up this track, it’s got that “Everlasting Bass” beat behind it, love that shit. With the sunshine on my psyche, and Lil Wayne in my cup, it’s NINE STARS!


THE WINNER: The benefit of two times through, as first time I mistakenly was fucking tripping and thought maybe Lupe and Wayne were close, and even similar with the long ass shoutout track close-out. But second time through, came to my senses, which ironically enough leaned against intelligent ass smart guy offering and towards the drug-addled oblivion exercises of Da Drought 3. Perhaps that is statement to my life currently, and why I’m thinking about them hydrocodone just sitting in the cabinet in the next room, whispering “raven… raven… come kick it.”

1 comment:

n said...

i'm enjoying the hh3os. thanks for writing about some hip hop shit.