SONG OF THE DAY: Ooh La La

I don’t get down with Run the Jewels like I once did. The internet loves them still, but each record’s felt less and less inspired, and to be honest, I got my fill on El-P verses by the end of the second one. I tried this last one but there wasn’t anything about it that really stuck out to me. I don’t listen to music as soon as it comes out necessarily, so it all gets inserted into a larger selection of music I tend to keep playing most hours of the day, so it doesn’t get that OMG NEW SHIT pop with me personally like it might for many folks. That’s some capitalistic bullshit though. Let the dust of the newness settle and see where shit stands for real. My shitty old iphone turned into an ipod is a true meritocracy, not a fake one built on mythologies which no longer apply.
All that being said, having Greg Nice on this popped my reminiscing heart, and had me thinking about how popular lemonade still is. So I did play the fuck outta this song at least. Can we get another solo Killer Mike project though? At this point, Run the Jewels is like a brightly painted and expensive organic taco truck at a mural festival in a neighborhood you used to buy weed in but can’t afford to even rent a one bedroom at anymore. El-P is the sound of gentrification during the Trump era. Sorry, that’s just how shit actually is.

D0M1N0S 4T TH3 T34 H0VS3...

dominos at the tea house,

in smoking section's back deck,

picnic table positioned

F0LL0W M3 T0 FR33D0M SCR34M3D...

"follow me to freedom!" screamed

goateed guy with tea party

plates on a honda civic

Wilhelm Reich meditations

while sipping hibiscus mint

tea out of quart mason jar

watermelon coconut kush 

hookah back patio deck 

at hipster teahouse bazaar

domino heiroglyphics 

chronicle hipster tea spot 

back deck Friday lounge sessions

river monkey-head chai drunk

solar dome recalibrates

universal energies

J.J. Krupert Top 13 Countdown - May '11 #2: "All By Myself" by Haystak

Haystak gets not much love so far as I know about, probably because he is a fat and ugly white dude who has always rapped about same base sensory shit, unapologetically, and has never pushed the whiteboy guilt angle too hard. Hell, he even made three records that comprised a White Boy Trilogy. I've got no problem with this because fuck it man, white people are white people, and we are not necessarily the polar opposite of the wretched of the earth. In fact, many of us ARE the wretched of the earth, waiting like all the rest of the oppressed for our turn to inherit the earth, not realizing the overlords are strip mining of all great value on their way out this atmosphere into space via German engineering deals made with aliens the same time we were busy splitting atoms.
This song is my all-time favorite by Haystak, because usually he's on some party party party wind up the night either with a honeydip or at the Waffle House tip, so when he busts into mellow man introspective mode, this is close to outlaw country music as hip hop gets - fiercely independent, and not giving a fuck. It actually surprises me Haystak doesn't have a ton more music like this, growing up in the shadow of Music Row in Nashville and all. And while Yelawolf is getting the Shady Records hype every now and then in magazine pictures and prominent music blog postings, Haystak has quietly been that country ass white rapper for over a decade. He can't twist a tongue like Yelawolf, and he never had a hit as big as Bubba Sparxxx did with Timbaland providing musical MSG for the masses behind him; but ain't no other southern white rapper ever made a song like this - chill enough for funerals, but hype enough to keep the Budweisers flowing around the pool table in the dirtbag club on a Friday night.
Perhaps part of the problem with me loving this song so much is me missing the dirtbag in my life. Since I quit drinking and have a fucking responsible ass job, my inner-caveman ain't getting fed. I feel a rebellion coming up inside of me, and I'd like to keep it off the self-destructive end of the spectrum, but hey... sometimes you've got to have forest fires to clear out all the brush.
STEAL "All By Myself"
NEXT: Another song about Tennessee, and one I thought should've been in Winter's Bone!

J.J. Krupert Top 13 Countdown – December ’10 Intro

December was the month that I played these songs and draped my house in tiny lead wires that lit up and used up all sorts of electricity and made my house look ridiculous when I would walk to or from it down the road at night drinking a double Earl Grey cup of tea with some creamline milk from the local-ish dairy that comes out of a glass bottle like it’s still 1942 up in this motherfucker. December was the month that I played these songs as we all ran around running up our debt and spending every last dollar that we didn’t really have on useless shit that’s probably already collecting dust or neglected or broken or outdated or forgotten or used up and thrown away. December was the month that I played these songs, these songs I will slowly countdown like I always do, in sporadic fashion, with weird little pictures thrown into each post at the top, because that has become what I do. This is a strange blog that has had what it does change eight or nine times over the course of it. But that is me. And this will be my soundtrack, from last month. Kind of.
For Christmas, I got some things, but the best was my oldest daughter crocheted me a giant stocking hat in Redskins colors, and the thing is seriously long enough I can pull it over my head down to my neck, which I do when I walk into banks, to scare everybody. Then I pull it up and go “I ain’t blind, man,” like Cheech does to Chong when he took the acid in the one good Cheech & Chong movie. You know what I mean. Of course, I actually am blind, not in a literal sense, if by literal you mean my eyeballs don’t see things. But I’m pretty fucking blind.
FIRST UP: That new type of world music that’s like muzak for Whole Foods!