Transcribed by: Sean Deez & eA
Note from Deez: The Interview is already quite long as it is, so I won’t bother with any type of introduction. Marco Polo and Torae have been put on display on this site plenty of times. You know their names, you know what they do. Enough talking, let’s get to…more talking… with this interview by the homie, Addi “Mindbender” Stewart.
Before the “official” part of the interview, Torae, Marco, and Addi laugh about and discuss the comments regarding the review of Double Barrel here on the site. Without transcribing each and every word, Torae was cool about the criticizing done towards him and the album. He reinstates his line from “Click,” “I read every blog and every article printed.” At the end of the day, as Torae said, “everyone has an opinion.”
Now, on to the interview…
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184 views | Posted in Exclusive, Interviews
Today, history is officially made. Only Built For Cuban Linx Part 2 is available to the world. It’s been 14 years in the making, a lifetime and a half in hip hop chronology. But the righteous ones live forever in music, and Shallah Raekwon is nothing short of an Older God and Grandmaster MC in these martial/language arts. Fuck the new jacks who don’t know the name brand or game plan. And while you’re at it, fuck all the bullshit that has accumulated in rap culture that people talk about, which essentially has nothing to do with the quality of words, thoughts and visions in an MC’s mind. All that matters is that which helps them manifest destiny’s masterpiece. Some will, some never will come close. Carrying on tradition is the ultimate immortality, and Louis Rich Diamonds is still the motherfucker not to fuck with (ask that former Def Jam rapper who shall remain nameless). Above and beyond all the motherfuckin’ ruckus in modern day rap, peace to everything else the eternally amazing Wu-Tang Clan collective has done, and will continue do. But let it be known: this particular CD is truly special beyond explanation. Considering the cinematic magic of the first ‘Cuban Linx’ album severely influenced more MCs, producers, crimies, drug dealers and bank robbers than almost any album in hip hop history, the fact that this one is now officially done, and ready for the world, and not another one of the infamously mythological unfinished rap fantasies of the Wu-Tang Clan, is nothing short of a miracle.
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Fascinated by the Blackberry vocal recording function, Cocoa Brova number two aka General Steele of the legendary group Smif N Wessun marveled at the state of technology today when I sat down to talk to them at a posh hotel tucked into a swanky slice of King St. Tek aka Smoke had an iPhone, which is considerably advanced to the Blackberry Curve, with all the apps it has available, and we compared the differences (me knowing the iPhone is unquestionably superior in many ways) before we started comparing the differences between the 90’s and the new millennium. The new Smif N Wessun music is straight dope east coast boom-bap b-boy headbanger boogie music, especially that joint they dropped with Joell Ortiz.
But I admittedly wasn’t as focused on the music as I was focused on their wellbeing for this interview. Especially considering the death of Baatin (R.I.P.) of Slum Village, I was wondering how life in general is for Tek and Steele. They represent lovely for those mini-stars in hip hop that carry on tradition and hold it down to the fullest, regardless of their fame and fortune’s status, or whether the youngest generation of heads are Twittering and blogging about their newest ringtone rap song (thank God these guys haven’t gone that route).
I caught up with one of the best tag-team duos to ever bless the mic, and found out what audio combat missions they intend to execute in the near future, on top of discovering that Tek aka Smoke doesn’t even partake in his name sake anymore (smoking, that is. If he shot someone with a Tech-9, I ain’t snitchin’ on the brother, ha ha). Peace to Rockness Monster (may justice be served) and the rest of the Boot Camp Click.
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617 views | Posted in Exclusive, Interviews
Ominous string instruments. Bootleg kung fu movie samples. Wisdom cautiously spilling from the sealed lips of ancient martial arts masters. Sword strikes. Track titles like “Supreme Architecture” and “Kill Too Hard.” Yes! Just when autotune was declared war upon by the likes of King Jiggamayne, this secret second roundhouse to the loudmouth of rap wackness is released to the masses, and these legendary beasts from the east are unleashed to feast on beats that sound like they were saved from The Flood that almost crumbled The Dream. RZA is damn near the peak of his artistry once again. Pay attention, grasshoppers and hipsters.
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2,092 views | Posted in Music Reviews
F’real, Posdnous was God to me in 1993. F*cking G-O-D. I know every word, breath and inflection of “Breakadawn,” even though nobody on earth knows the actual meaning of 85% of the lyrics they say on it. That song resonates infinitely deeper now because of its immaculate use of Michael Jackson’s “I Can’t Help It” sample. My high school life was changed drastically by the evolved jazzyfatnasty-ness of Buhloone Mind State. De La Soul is Dead, Stakes Is High remains one of the best follow-ups to one of the best debuts of all-time. And is still fucking ridiculously dope for a group who (sadly) stopped working with the eternally underrated genius of the Dew Doo Man aka the Prince Amongst Thieves named Paul Huston. Art Official Intelligence was mostly fresh dope dopeness, but it was evident things were permanently changing on a variety of levels. Bionix came out, and the fact was solidified even further (and true De La heads are still waiting for part 3, the Maceo/DJ tribute). The Grind Date was f*cking slammin’ for the most part, and more along the elevated expectations a De La fan… so what’s good with this Nike-invested thing called “Are You In?”
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1,769 views | Posted in Music Reviews
Remember when De La Soul and Tribe Called Quest used to dis the shit outta R&B? Not on some childish hater shit, just on some self-pride b-boy shit? Those were the days. The vibes and stuff of modern music was much more raw and uncut. Today, it’s all one crazy ass unbelievable blur. Not three minutes into the electro-ballad that comprises the intro of Fantasy Ride, Ciara busts a rap that wouldn’t sound surprising out of Eve’s mouth. This super-kinky viciousness continues across the disc, and it’s not necessarily nauseating like that atrocious Wreckz-n-Effect’s rap/R&B radio fodder came across as (time travel with me, people). But what rap and R&B have merged into at the end of the new millenium would confuse even the most cutting egde music producer, with the nebulous-yet-structured definitions of each mutating closer each year. On this album, rappers are singing on R&B beats, while singers are rapping on rap beats. You would have been insane to attempt this in the early 90’s. But Ciara’s Fantasy Ride, even ten years from now, will probably sound quite futuristic, with its sinful synths and many slick-ass little tricks. Its state of the art, but it’s also a symptom of the state of the art, word to Kanye Omari West.
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Toronto has been patiently waiting to jump in the (cess?) pool of hip hop music since Maestro Fresh Wes set the standard of excellence in 1989, spilling his flexible flows all over the breakbeat bliss of “Let Your Backbone Slide.” Twenty years later, Canada STILL hasn’t exactly stamped themselves across the map of rap, not for lack of trying. There has been a few cats who came close to breaking the ignorant listener barrier that has asphyxiated the aspirations of the average Canadian rapper. A few good men brave enough to carry the Canuck torch/mic have attempted to be the biggest thing to leave Canada since Pamela Anderson’s double D’s (peace to Shad K), from Saukrates, Choclair, Kardinal, Buck 65, K-os, Classified and Drake, among many lesser known (but similarly talented) others. Now, with Drake’s unprecedented co-signing from the planet’s biggest rap star in 2008, Lil Wayne, doors are open that have never been accessible to Canadian MCs before. And Tona is right on time to cash in.
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Photo credit: Philip Litevsky [dopealot.com]
Some stuff doesn’t translate from the record to the stage as exactly as a dreamer can imagine. The mini-cult that has formed in Toronto’s Dilla-crazy, new-millennium rhythm and blues (“neo-soul” is nearly as bad as saying “urban”) obsessed populace has slowly but surely treated Little Brother (and all things OkayPlayer related) like kings every time they come to town, and this event was no different. The first full band Foreign Exchange show was packed to the tits with anticipating ears and eyes, eager to feel the Foreign Exchange Experience brought to life.
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418 views | Posted in The Show
DJ Premier rambling heartfelt, intelligent thoughts as an intro? Blaow. Your album is pretty much automatically certified to have a certain true school aesthetic, auto-tune be damned. Anyone who’s been listening to rap long enough should instinctively travel that path of rhythmic thinking. Torae? Marco Polo? Double Barrel? What caliber of music are you aiming at me? And how much (positive or negative) permanent damage will it have will it have on my head? *puts on headphones*… *CLICK* (a.k.a. ‘play’)…
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1,228 views | Posted in Music Reviews
In these Afghani-Israeli-Sri Lanka wartorn days and times, you can’t go wrong with an explosion-filled, Falluja-like wartorn album introduction to dive into someone musical madness. But having that soundscape seamlessly secure itself to Killah Priest in Heavy Mental mode, spitting hellfire on the same ominous violins Shyne destroyed on “Whatcha Gonna Do” on his debut instantly just takes everything to a better level. I love this shit already. And I love that it instantly feels worthy of the title. On song number two (!), Killah Priest has a CHORUS that murderously sings “A hit on the Rothchilds/ I want judges and president laid down/ before the order of the New World goes around“. Holy fuck. Is this guy really taking his supreme storytelling, inspired by Paris’s “Bush Killa” type shit, to the realm of Illuminati mason assassination? Yes. Yes he fucking is. Unbelievable. This kind of imaginative, paranoid, pseudo-psycho music is what hip hop is made for. This is Ghost Dog on record. Don’t tell me Forest Whitaker couldn’t play Killah Priest in a film adaptation of this cinematic classic-in-the-making.
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960 views | Posted in Music Reviews
Almost out of nowhere, we get the new Mr. Lif album. Strangely, it’s not on Def Jux. On Lif’s own eclectically-titled Bloodbot Tactical Enterprises Label, I have to say that Lif is off to a very auspicious start, if he was thinking of helming his own sonic soldier of fortune mission similar to Definitive Juxtapositions.
“Welcome to the World’s” intro is too good for me to spoil. Spoken like a true conspiracy theorist, some shadowy figure asks you a question that you need to answer before you start listening to 2009 Lif. He picks up where the stellar and slept-on Perceptionists record and the rugged-like-Rwanda rawness of Mo’ Mega left us. The quiet storm tornado of tension created by “Breathe” is perfection, as Lif cools his rugged baritone with precision and flows some more pro shit over the flutes and chimes of the mellow magic. And who better than Bahamadia to get on a coolout cut? The daps outro is just great too. Collaborations just ain’t what they used to be in this “just-send-me-the-ProTools-session” era, but this one is more than the sum of its peaceful parts.
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642 views | Posted in Music Reviews
8th solo album? Damn, time flies fast. I vividly remember chilling in my basement getting my skull blown off its shoulders by the earthquaking impact of “Everything Remains Raw” like it was like, two days ago. If only Busta Rhymes remembered what that shit smelled like… First and foremost, there is certainly nothing “Blessed” about the album’s anemic single “Hustler’s Anthem.” And I can’t even blame T-Pain for it being the crappiest single of the year. Busta Rhymes has officially ran out of ideas. At this point in time, he’s the definition of style over substance, as his once-keen and conspiracy-theory-sharpened mind vegetates behind his superstar celebrity face, waiting to speak, but being drowned out by that boisterous dungeon dragon. After 2 years of delays, at least 3 album title changes, and a confusing marketing campaign (what’s the single for this album again? And why isn’t last year’s funky flare-up “Throw Da Water On ‘Em” not on here?), this mess is just flush-worthy. So many questions. So few satisfying answers.
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1,845 views | Posted in Music Reviews
*Big Shouts to Jay for hooking up access to the show and big shouts to Mayan for hooking up some great pictures*
I saw him rock last week, and honestly, I expected more. Not that he wasn’t decent, or didn’t have flashes of powerful potential, but straight up, I didn’t see what the hype was all about. I openly admit I never listened to The Mixtape About Nothing. I’m somewhat aware of his career steps, and I wish him the best in general. Hip hop needs new blood to take this art to new places. And with Wale being the Kid Cudi of 2 years ago, I was hoping his first show in Toronto would be an event like no other. To be honest, the most memorable moments of the concert was a dazzling lightshow accompanying the ballistic drummer’s solo (Wale’s five-piece band was the saving grace of the event. If it was just him and a DJ, it would have been simply disappointing) and the hometown hero moment Wale sparked when he shouted out Drake, and incorporated some local love to the hook of “Best I Ever Had”. When an impromptu incorporation of someone else’s song gives you the most crowd interaction of the evening, it’s time to stop for a sec, and re-evaluate it all.
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444 views | Posted in The Show
What’s in a name? That mysterious question continues to linger subconsciously in the psyche of all creative artists, as well as in the minds of the supporters of art. What musical elements combine to make The Roots everything that is “The Roots”? What defines the artistic realm of Nasty Nasir Jones? Is there really a creative difference between “T.I.” and “T.I.P.”? And if so, would a different name really mean a different career and different artistic life? Sometimes, you gotta ask that question. I honestly think that Bubba Sparkxxx got a bag full of dope music that didn’t get smoked by the masses because of his slightly awkward name. (And yeah, the white rapper thing was a factor too, but work with me here).
I say this to say: Tanya Morgan is dope as fuck. But I slept on them hard, honestly, only because of the name: “Tanya Morgan”. Until yesterday, I didn’t have a clue that they were as unceasingly incredible as many of my heroes have been in concert. But after a solid opening set from fresh style warrior Masia One and her sultry singing vocalist Jessica Kaya, the third-full audience at Revival gathered close to check out the beats rhymes and life of the Okayplayer-approved Brooklynatites, and I think everyone in attendance would say the same thing: “Tanya Morgan means ill fucking new millennium underground hip hop”.
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388 views | Posted in The Show
It’s a brand fucking new day in hip hop, both Canadian and across the world. Veteran Halifax rapper/producer Classified has released Self-Explanatory, one of the best, most cohesive, thoughtful, and well-crafted Canadian hip hop albums in years. With the abhorrent proliferation of Auto-tune-tainted, money/hustler/make it rain/trap rap, the near demise of “abstract, backpack rap” (damn yoo hipsters! *shakes fist at sky*) and the strange state of affairs with revolutionary/conscious rap music that the lack of balance in modern American hip hop culture can be cured with a healthy dose of humble, Canadian boom-bap. And Classified makes a grip of it here.
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1,093 views | Posted in Music Reviews
