S. Zissou put it best; baby's first political hip-hop album. It has all the unsubtle triteness of a grandson record, issue being Vince is very much above that lyrical low. Raucous liberality about as radical as wine moms who want Trump dead; apologies, but the hydra has many heads.

The latest in Navy's grand revelations.. resisting is, like,, hard, man.

Sir Render II adapts a passive escapism in the times of Neo-Nihilism, ducks his head into the realm of Instapoets & Champagne Slam yet again, plays refusnik when going gets tough. "Be right or be happy, choose wisely."

Navy Blue has oft been cast as the quintessential 'therapy rap'. Per the rave reviews, the perception has persisted, & while many mean well, I cannot think of a more ... read more

The less tasteful side of pop rap elements incorporating into 2Mex's sound. The production is vaguely Kanye-esque and thereby bland and uninteresting.

Very West Coast Halloween. Trunk-or-treats saved a generation from having to traverse the unwalkable helLAscape. Almost mediocre.

Too many cooks in the kitchen! The 5-man production team manages to make one good beat.. amongst two dozen. Even the retinue of indie rap veterans can't retain the grace.

Overzealous at times, outpacing its execution with high-minded experiments — that cut with Jean Grae that is done a disservice by the choral mixing — but also containing the dopest folding of pop rap conventions into 2Mex's unmistakably Blowedian style.

2Mex is at his real greatest when he's entirely himself. This album — with one of the illest feature lists in West Coast underground rap, a randomly placed drum-and-bass remix, and a truly touching tribute to DJ Rob One — is entirely himself. No tropes or tricks of the trade. Ironically, a much better representation of him as an artist than his self-titled, released the same year.

Style's all stale and he sounds mismatched. Like he was doing his best DRIVER impression over beats unbefitting. 2Mex showed himself up this same year.

Haggard raps spat with spite enough to have a backpacker black out. Come to in a frontier gully with a sudden understanding of Appalachian folklore, clutching a 4-track and a stopped clock.

AS ABOVE / SO BELOW

Trimegistus, you get the gist though.

Unfortunately it is the same pressures that push the underground as it is the overground. Mach has been over for a good minute, but has stalled creatively; his tunes is now a short stone's throw away from the copy-paste unthinking man-o-sphere music of emcees like Ransom & co. It's an Andrew Tate sample on here.

Mach was once subversive, but he has since shaped the industry in his image. Capital subsumes all its ... read more

Nowhere near comitted enough to the spacey sounds to warrant the aesthetics and underdelivers as a consequence. The beats just sound poorly-made, not innovative— certainly not infinite.

Mums the Word isn't the greatest producer, but damn do his beats become charming under the rhymes of 2Mex. He has this way of reciting relationship raps that are both personal and personable. Funny Isn't It is an ode to a dying relationship that preambles the classic I Didn't Mean To Touch Your Hand; Upside Down 6 is a classic Blowedian posse cut with a Visionaries twist; Worship the Music is a simply sublime encapsulation of the issues that would befall the then-fledgling scene. ... read more

Weird fucking album. Half an hour of raw rhymes .. by raw I don't mean rugged street dualities, thug's son dying at moonrise, jagged swirls spoke into existence like ouroboros. I mean rugburn-borne electric ladylove pulsing, steaming. 2Mex rattles them off like they've been weighing on him his whole life. Eventually his diatribe dies out and spacey instrumentals take his place; pissant.

Of Mexican Descent all turn Native; like those Croatoans, who became grey-eyed Indians, like those first Maroons, who led the first American revolution in 1526, & like those righteous Moslems of Ronconcholon, who held out for half a decade against the encroach of encomienda.

Project Blowed like a Kalakuta Republic, in which folks drop out, invent their own identity. That of 'Native' is an invented one, a category cooked up in caukazoid minds; their idea of a living, flesh-blood ... read more

Lo-fi Spanish raps barked over boom bap. Of Mexican Descent were ahead of their time; these tracks could've been recorded a decade later, easily.

Crusty old grandpa rap; Rhettmatic production is dope but one-note, very stale by the end.

The best Visionaries LP owes a lot to the production poured out here — 2Mex over a Dilla beat? Sign me up twice. Some beats, though, are wack, and drag the project down — so much so that the impressive lyrical performances from *every* visionary present can't redeem some of these songs.

Dope jazz-in-ethos, akin to its predecessor but way doper in execution. Great Western Race especially is a Geti classic.

Within the week I'll be a high school graduate. Netizens been mistook me a tricenarian — how embarrassing. Any assumption is acrid to me; I live now as I lived Then only with much more gawking and much more incessant commentary. Us uderground art weirdos never wanted the attention.

I just wanna write good and not sell breadsticks. I want to put pretty things into wingdings for the dingbats who like that. Like me. I want to be better than my biters. I want all the smoke but did ... read more

Somewhere between Fellowship and Living Legends in terms of content, but without the technical skill of either — save, of course, for the resident Blowedian. Fret not, Pangaea splits up eventually.