Monday, June 20, 2005

N, III

No Knife- Hit Man Dreams

This intricate, technically played, immaculately produced melodic record with post-punk leanings. So immaculately produced, as a matter of fact, that the recording occasionally leaves something to be desired- an unclean hook for listeners to latch onto, for example. Still, though, these songs are catchy and erudite. We spent so many car trips and nights on the back porch trying to figure out what the time signature was on this one song which sounded like it was skipping or something-turned out to be in four, if that’s any indication. So yeah, this shit’s amazing, but it feels like the album is wearing a condom.

Notorious B.I.G.- Life After Death

There are certain records that get played over and over again on the back porch and wind up being canonized. ‘Ready To Die’ is totally one of those- Ed started playing it for all of us, walking us through and pointing out lots of cool/funny parts. Man, that record is fantastic. Biggie Smalls impresses me most in his narrative ability- he tells stories when he’s rhyming, mixing up his inflection and cadence to distinguish different characters in his stories, spitting out thick, fruity syllables and managing to sound smooth even though he might be rappin’ through a mouthful of mashed potatoes or something.

I listened to ‘Ready To Die’ like a million times, then picked up this one, a posthumous double record. When he’s on, he’s on- the darkness flows as the grim stories of the life that he never left behind simultaneously entice and repulse. Totally captivating stuff like a quarter of the time.

(Am I allowed to mention any of this record’s shortcomings? I’m afraid that I’ll wake up one night and find myself being dangled upside down from a high window by a bunch of dudes who want me to reconsider some things about the album:

“Uh. Where am I?”

“Look down, motherfucker.”

“AAAAAAAGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHH!”

“You listen up.”

“AAAAAAAAAGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHH!”

“Shut up and listen, boy.”

“Don’t drop me!”

“First thing. Puffy doesn’t ruin anything. Everything he does turns platinum. Got it?”

“What about that thing with Sting?”

“Do you want us to drop you?”

“Oh, shit. Uh, no. No.”

“So. Everything that Puffy does-“

“PLATINUM!”

“Good. And all of those songs were finished. Even the ones where Biggie barely sings. They weren’t spliced together in the studio. He was just leaving space so he could hook up his boys, got it?”

“He was hookin’ ‘em up!”

“Right. And the last thing.”

“What?”

“Do you have a song for when you die?”

“What?”

“That thing that you said in your review, fool.”

“What?”

“That thing that you said! Every rapper writing a ‘I’m so tough, I’m not afraid to die’ song and sealing it in a safe-deposit box for later in case they get killed in a drive-by.”

“That was a joke.”

“We can let you go and see if you have one in your safety deposit box.”

“I’m sorry. I’ll never make jokes like that again.”

“Stick to talking about bands no one cares about.”

“But I have a bunch more hip-hop records to review soon!”

“What else you got?”

“Pull me up and I’ll tell you.”

“Tell us and then we’ll think about it.”

“Okay. Couple of Ol’ Dirty Bastard records, Outkast, N.W.A.”

“You’re lucky we’re pulling you up.”)

1 Comments:

Blogger RichieTylerPollard said...

painfully funny!
"Platinum!" Haaaa.ha.ha.

6:46 AM  

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