Very lo-fi, underdeveloped Geti release affirming the ennui he's been affecting in his rhymes for so long.
Indie-blend of many currents Geti reigns in/over well. Hodgepodge of sounds, all of which he expands on elsewhere.
Kenny Segal-prod Kenny Dennis tape is understatedly fantastic. Once upon a time is a different vibe from Mr. Segal and is outstanding, even amidst a rich history of collaborative gold. He is the illest producer of all time & freaks those horns somn nasty.
Geti's content follows KD well-after his separation from Jueles, easing his toes into loving again. Alas, it is doomed. Forget Kenny; it's a byzantine ode to the frustrations of love in modernity. The arms with which we hold ... read more
Wild free-maniacal improvisation in that lengthy track; Geti often defaults to older verses, frequent redesigns of former scribes. It's the same pretense from which Ajai was swindled; Geti had requested beats with which to remix an older song, then melded them and freestyled half the tape over it. We might never see that demo, but this, sharing the ethos, is close enough.
Annoying and vapid, it takes an increasingly common kind of narcissism to believe anybody wants to hear about your little life for nearly two hours. He means to draw a juxtaposition between himself at 29 and 39, returning to the ville at both ages, but all he shows is how very little he's actually changed. He's still boring, still refusing to rap about anything, still only got battle rap tier bars. Whatever. We'll see him in 3-4 years.
Legends grow old and lose the ear for beats they did once hold. Tale as old as.., well, them.
Recorded humbly, as though the strums were mere coincidence, Geti affects his sympathies through his blues. He always had a thing, rooting for those washed-up wrasslin retirees. I wonder what Jim Duggan is up to these days.
There is, of course, something to be said about possession-as-identity, as every interaction is today mediated by our suffocating milieu. The world ended in 1914 and we've been living through the permanently-renovated ruins. Nothing ever happens in rigor mortis. I still linger on my old earth.
These superb biographical bodies of work Geti King committed himself to are oft vandalized with hagiographical π€π©π’π³π’π€π΅π¦π³ π΄π΅πΆπ₯πͺπ¦π΄. How acrid. No, look, listen, characters are hallucinations cooked up by Big Realism™ to distract you from the artwork's form. I do not care for quotations regarding Ajai's quotidian quixotism, nor transcriptions of KD's temptations.
Ajai is not the titular sneakerhead, not the hypebeast par ... read more
ICE9 continues a winning streak with another boundary-pushing etheral release. The tazzianmalik-produced mixtape sees a palpable House influence infused into her already hazy brand of eclectic cloud rap. I do prefer the prior Drum and Bass beats of past LPs, but her penchant for innovation is admirable and I'm wishfully thinking of a larger, longer, more cohesive project that can blend these sounds or otherwise move between them in a way that is not jarring. She has her work cut out for ... read more
The lacustrine anti-mainstream ethos here falters, giving way to some more popped-out tropes. It works. Grind It Out is catchier than a bitch & The Like Song is a nice slow grind love song. More heartfelt than the bulk of modern R&B, even as Psychosiz croons about cleavage.
One of the earliest outings from the then-unknown Open Mike Eagle, troika'd here by fellow Blowedians Psychosiz and Dumbfoundead, the trio deliver on themes introduced into the zeitgeist by other Blowedians and affiliates with a pun-filled aquatic LP. Filet of Soul, Adventure Time, Phlowtations, DJ DW — the underground as underwater was not a new metaphor. But the style is elevated; Poet's first spell.
"Came out at eight, was leaning on the railing / Kept hearing the waves crashing beneath me / Back and forth, just rephrasing what they were saying / Over and over, and doing that repeatedly / [...] Every time they'd go back out to sea / It's like they'd draw a little bit more out of me."
Okay, youse won,, you burnt me out,,, congratulations β½β½
Some days I rap like Latyrx.
Blackalicious affiliates Lyrics Born and Lateef the Truthspeaker are in peak form here: LB ... read more
INF is uninteresting, yet to find his footing on these glitchy vino beats. The odd vino verse here and there are alright, could've gone on most any of his EPs from last year.
Fanon nails this dreary modulated jazz, a jaunt of junkanoo to match. Unfortunately, Obi is the hangup here. This tone and mode of delivery was well-acclimated for the variety plate that was some other releases, FLDSZN especially, but here it cuts through like a blunt, cold knife in frozen butter. Ironic he would rap about changing up his style again, to differentiate himself from the 'biters,' as this album really could've benefited from another style change.
It's hard to really say anything when they didn't. I was waiting for the electro-croons and filler lines to end, for the adlibs to be absconded, for some substance to come out this subterfuge. Then the album ended.
I sound like a broken record, but truly, Geti grasps lethargy like no other. It's the rhymes written by an artist answering a call that never comes; there is nothing compelling him to write, yet he does. It's not fixing anything, yet he does. Strums of his future avant-folk endeavors are present. Nothing is confined. Turntables or guitars, the ethos is the same.