September | 2008 | Amalgam Digital Blog

People always think music changes for the worse.  It’s part of growing older.  We always remember things better than they
really were. Music is definitely no exception. 
Everyone has a memory attached to a song. Even if it’s a shitty song, it
will eventually become a “special” shitty song. 
But that’s cool.  Every generation
has single-driven artists and artist-driven artists, and that goes for all
genres of music.  [more]

What I don’t understand is, one generation prizing they’re
shitty songs while downing the next generations shitty songs.  Kids have Soljah Boy. We had Kris
Kross.  Kids have V.I.C. We had Tag-Team.  We had A.B.C., we had Kid-N-Play, we
had 69 Boyz, we had So-So Def Allstars, we had Vanilla Ice, we had Hammer, we
had Skee-lo, we had Humpty (sans Digital U.), we had a million of ‘em.  All great artists. All great at making the
music they wanted to make.  They made
shit that we liked. Some of ‘em could only do it once. Some of ‘em lucked out a
couple times.  Same with Every ringtone
artist you hear now.  For what it’s
worth, they’re good at what they do. They don’t make good shit, they make hot
shit.

It’s kinda funny to me when someone in their mid-20’s or
older compares the flavor of the month to their favorite artist from the 90’s
(i.e. “what the fuck is this Mike Jones shit?! None of these kats can fuck with
Pac” etc., etc.).  I personally don’t
think MC Hammer got shit on Young Jeezy either, but that’s me.

When it comes down to it, music will always have two sides.
The artist driven side and the single driven side.  We can’t look at one side to give us what we
need from the other side.  Don’t wait for
Nas to drop a club joint, and don’t wait for Hurricane Chris to write
“Illmatic”.  Neither is happening.  It’s been like this since waaaay before our
time.

For instance: A couple years ago, I
was talking to my friend’s dad, a musician who used to play keys for Ohio funk
and soul groups such as Heatwave, SUN, Dayton, and more. He used to warm up
during soundcheck by playing Wes Montgomery and Jimmy Smith (older jazz
musicians at the time) because that’s what influenced him.  The young kids (our parents now) would come
up to him and say “we don’t wanna hear that old shit, play some of that
Parliament funk shit.”  Sound
familiar? 

Occasionally we do get the best of both sides in an
artist.  These are usually the most long
term successful artists.  They’re
artist-driven, which means the listener cares about their story.  These artists are good at conveying their
personality, whether through emotion, humor, introspection, wit, passion, or a
combo of any of these. Think 2pac, BIG, Eminem, Nas, Wayne, Chuck D, Rakim,
Snoop, Jeezy, and Jay.

So, rather than bicker about how one generation’s music is
better than the other, we might as well focus on making sure hip-hop as a
culture cements it’s legacy into the world as properly as possible.  In 50 plus years, we’ll all be old folks, and
young kids will look at our hip-hop as one big mass of music anyway.

I wanna flesh this out more (maybe a later blog) but I’m running outta time. But
I always like having these types of discussions with different types of people,
so feel free to add a comment on what you think.

In the meantime, if you’re in Pheonix AZ this Thursday, Oct. 2^nd, I’ll be
performing at Chasers.

Also, don’t forget to download the new free record “ill
poetic presents Outkast meets NIN: Nine Inch Naliens” @ www.myspace.com/illpoetic

 DIGITAL ONLY ALBUM COMING OCTOBER 2008 TO WWW.AMALGAMDIGITAL.COM

From Allhiphop.com

A fire broke out at award-winning rapper/actor Ludacris’ home just South of Atlanta Wednesday night, AllHipHop.com has learned.

The fire, described by authorities as a “significant fire,”
destroyed the residence’s pool house, but did not affect the main
structure on the property.

The fire left some property damage but no injuries.

According to Fulton County Fire Department spokesman Gregory
Chambers, the fire was first reported by a neighbor, even before the
alarm system at the home was triggered.

Authorities arrived at the scene on DeMooney Road near College Park
around 11:30pm and were able to put out the fire within 30 minutes.

Ludacris was in New York at the time of the fire, where he is scheduled to host a private “screening” for his forthcoming album Theater of the Mind, which hits stores November 11.

A male relative was in the main house’s basement, but was not injured.

At press time, authorities were still attempting to identify the cause of the fire. 

We were somewhere around ..Lexington, on the edge of the meadows, when the weed began to take hold.

I remember aaron saying something like:

-what is that?

And the sky was filled with what looked like huge clouds. Gray clouds that had been passed out in my sky for weeks now, stuck in a seemless hangover.

And a voice – aaron's voice – was screaming:

Holy Jesus, what IS that gotdamn thing?

We were quite sure it was the sun, but weren't positive since we haven't seen it since Memorial Day.

We had

Half a bag of grass

2 slipmats

A vestex mixer

Serato

A Tupperware tub full of CDs

Dirty clothes

A crate of records

A pint of raw ether (no ether)

Shit.

Not that we needed all that for the trip.

But once you get locked into a serious record collection, the tendency is to push it as far as you can. The only thing that really worried me was the records. There is nothing in this world more helpless and irresponsible and depraved than a man in the depths of a digging binge.

And I knew we'd get into that rotten stuff pretty soon. [more]

We were on a very ominous assignment, with overtones of extreme personal danger. Doctors of musicianship.

This is a fucking true story:

**(see 'fear and loathing in las vegas' to understand anything i just typed above)

And it starts on a trip to greenwood, south Carolina. Me (rapper) and aaron (DJ) aka claude 9 when the sunglasses are on. The story starts when the sun comes out. This is why we love the south…except Tennessee.

Driving down the highway making great time. Until Tennessee. I've been warned about your driving, Tennessee. Mainly that you suck at it. And this came from one of YOUR natives, so don't get mad. But it's true. You suck at driving. And I'll tell you why: 2 hour traffic jam right near the (yes, this is real)..Stinky..Creek..Road..exit. We moved one mile in two hours. Why. Accident? Roadwork? What could it be? A sign said merge to left lane, and ten miles worth of cars JUST couldn't figure out this highway rubix cube.

"sooo…do we merge left, or what?" is all I could hear these confused drivers saying in my head.

But..the best part? It was an old sign. There was NO REASON TO MERGE LEFT. Ya coulda just stayed in both lanes. Genius. I love you all.

As the night went on, I got to drive the winding, dark mountains of Tennessee with crystal meth-addled truck drivers who probably haven't slept since Halloween, and had no trouble passing me at terrifying speeds (yet still struggled to merge left).

Finally, after passing a TV guide hotel, we're in range of greenwood, SC, where our houseparty awaited. Though, due to highway 25, finding it was like finding the da vinci code. And since it was an early house party, we missed out on a lot of house-partiers (sorry bout that, thank your neighbors to the north). Yet and still, we had a ball with all the remaining house party attendees. Everyone got down – mission accomplished. Afterword, Kendrick, the promoter, took us to the bar area, where we could finish the evening. First bar – too crowded. We wanted kinda hole-in-the-wall. Enter Jeffs bar and grill. Kind of a sports bar, but with enough regulars to feel comfy. Fifteen minutes to close, and aaron looks at me. Says '15 minutes-I BET we're smoking in here.' I say 'sounds about right'. The bar dwindles down to 3 regulars and the bartenders. Aaron throws out the offer, and we smoke out all of Jeffs bar for the next hour and a half. Fantastic.

Friday starts something like; sunny, 70, top down, drive to Atlanta. Red clay against blue lakes under yellow sun. all the primary colors covered. Aaron added some green to the color wheel. We land at the promoter aka aaron's cousin andy's house. Aaron and I don't party. THESE people party. Welcome to fear and loathing in Atlanta. And just like Grindhouse, there will be some missing reels in this story. Prepare.

The second we go in, we see a couple custom made bongs.

-scene missing-

Ok, now we're driving to kick it with more friends. We all make our way to the club to catch a jazz band. Had a blast.

-scene missing-

Damn, andy's TRASHED. We won't be seeing him tonight.

-scene missing-

I'm tracing this face on her living room window at 3 in the morning

-scene missing-

So by 1pm, everyone is up. We eat at the Flying Biscuit. Great food.

Time travels to the evening. Me and a starving aaron find ourselves down the street from the venue at the Vortex. A restaurant/bar with a huge skull at the entrance. Go here. The hostess dry-humps aaron and shows us to our seat.

We meet up with andy and his girl and eat dinner. Back to the venue so aaron could start spinning. At the venue are 100 plus santa clauses and ms. Clauses drinking and waiting to hear sir mix-a-lot talk about becky's butt.

The party begins.

Newberry jam is an Atlanta funk band that rocked as well. Killed it. More people come.

We ended the night. Had a killer set. Aaron smoked out everyone on stage, as well as himself. People danced, people partied, people took lotsa drugs.

-scene missing-

6pm Sunday – aaron and I head back up north. Hooray.

Bye, andy. Bye, mehgan. Bye, lauren. Bye, Stephanie. Bye, kendrick. Bye, jeffs bar and grill. Bye, crystal-meth truckers.

Hello, ohio.

Rest in peace to Euphrates crew member
Nofy Fannan, who, like many great talents ahead of him, passed before watching
the world embrace his finest work.  This
may be a strange gesture with which to begin a music review, but it’s the only
conceivable way to respect the fallen architect of the most politically
poignant hip-hop album in recent history.

The Euphrates DNA is not only unique in structure – two producers and
one mc, but also in descent – all three are Iraqi Canadians.  Since 1998, biological brothers Nofy and
Habillis, who unite as SandhiLL, have fused Arabic folk music with hip-hop
aesthetics to bend soundscapes around The Narcicyst’s unapologetic
consciousness.  Their compositions are
fairly unprecedented, but are also more organized and accessible than most
underground acts of their artistic caliber.

Stereotypes
Incorporated is the follow up to the 2003 debut, A Bend in the River, for which Euphrates
received international attention from both rap critics and mainstream
media.  The new album is conceptually
divided between “East” and “West,” which Narcicyst says is “because we don’t
really have (just) one point of view.” 
As Arab émigrés with roots and relatives in the Middle East, Euphrates delivers didactic feats from [more] sociopolitically
relative, yet undeniably subjective, perspectives.  And while the tribe primarily serves to
positively combat cultural misconceptions about their religion and nationality,
their angst toward U.S.
foreign policy has a dominant presence throughout.                 

Narcicyst isn’t your everyday anti-Bush babble rouser strapped with a
pen and pad.  A graduate student with a
foundation in poly sci and communications, he plans to submit his next album as
a Master’s thesis.  About his lyrical
content, he says, “I don’t really see it as me being political.  This is just me being.  Our nature is politicized as a people right
now so you can’t run away from it.” 
Narcy’s verses aren’t catered for ignorant listeners, who might
misinterpret his sentiments if they could ever grasp his poetics.  He says the integral reason for his layered
flow is so “if I go out there and spit a verse and cats are like, “what the
fuck is he talking about” – it’s better than them saying, “that motherfucker
hates the states,”” which is not the case.  

On “Spiderhole,” a guitar-driven grievance about what they’ve punned
Iraqnophobia, Narcicyst spits, “All of a sudden, you’re told you’re a victim /
Then believe you’re stepping to heaven like Led Zeppelin since September 11^th
/ My brethren are lessened then questioned right next to a weapon.”  Even in socially liberal Canada, racial
profiling is epidemic, making it possible for a lyricist to be mistaken for a
terrorist.  In what might be the most
ironic Canadian event since Alanis Morisette’s success, last year all three
members of Euphrates were blackballed at the New York
border en route to perform at an anti-discrimination rally at Wesleyan University.  Neither their immigration papers nor the show
contract could outweigh the perceived threat of three Arab rappers armed with
vinyl and microphones.   

Though Stereotypes has some
apolitical highlights, like “Aim at Rebuilding,” with Montreal
affiliates Apokalyptik and Loe Pesci, and “Flow Addicts,” featuring Boston sensei Virtuoso and Canadian powerhouse Rugged
Intellect, the bulk of the album serves as a testament against the assault on Iraq.  “Halliburton” attacks the U.N. as well as war
profiteers, and “Creep Up” adopts the viewpoint of a soldier to address how “We
all feel the same about our youth going to other countries and getting
killed.” 

Euphrates has only just
begun their pillage of bringing clarity to sinister realities that oppress
their homeland.  The musical and
spiritual loss of Nofy Fannan in a November car crash is devastating, but
Narcicyst says, “We’re going to continue for him and make sure his name gets
out there.”  The first single, “Commodore
64,” is dropping globally on Expertism Productions, a Montreal label managed by producer affiliate
Adam Sampler, who produced the melodramatic
“Mundane Sunday” on Stereotypes
Incorporated.  And as far as pushing
southward, SandhiLL recently worked on Harlem revolutionary Immortal
Technique’s forthcoming album, and word about www.euphrates.ca has rumbled
through the U.S.
underground.        

*     *    
*

I’m not concerned about the ghost of hip-hop past.  Nor do I care about when or where it began,
or the degenerative path that much of it is headed down.  Right now I’m hooked on three Iraqi activists
from Quebec,
who are collectively responsible for the LP that best summarizes the
frustrations of a generation at war.  And
while I might suggest that Stereotypes
be used to catalyze genuine progress in the way people see the world, I’m
fairly sure that anyone who does not already share their views would never
understand what the fuck these Arabs were talking about anyway.