Dear Kanye West

Kanye's lucky he makes good music (no pun intended) Name another artist that could insult America's sweetheart on national television, then sell his label to her label...

via Yahoo!

14-time Grammy-winner (and 30-time Grammy nominee) Kanye West's independent record label G.O.O.D. Music, has been signed to an exclusive long-term worldwide label agreement with the Island Def Jam Music Group (IDJMG). The announcement was made today by Kanye West, Barry Weiss, Chairman & CEO of Universal Motown Republic Group (UMRG) and Island Def Jam Music Group (IDJMG) and Steve Bartels, President & COO, Island Def Jam Music Group.

The artist vs. the labels. The artists vs. the labels. The artists vs. the labels. That's all we've heard since the New Music Cartel banded together to instigate the 'blog era' in hip-hop. The entity of internet users, companies and artists all in a constant tug of war with the 'Big 4' labels. The internet has allowed for artists to circumvent the distribution tactics of the 'Big 4' by giving artists the means to do it themselves. I suppose that's a cardinal sin with record labels. Who gets over on the consumer is actually the consumer's choice: whether they'll pay 99 cents on iTunes or head to YHTN or 2Dbz or the dearth of other blogs and websites dedicated to sharing music.



#deathto

For hours we could discuss labels clamping down on artists for doing just that. Sicking the RIAA on consumers and artists, removing profile pages and songs, shutting down websites, and adding more restriction to the way the artists operate; all at the expense of means to control how we get our music. Another can be made Lupe out of you and your music can take a cozy seat on the shelf. Even so, artists (and their teams, cliques and sets) do enter in these agreements voluntarily. They want to get paid for their work while controlling it on their journey to the top. Sometimes, they allow their music to get out, sometimes they get extremely aggy and go on Twitter rants. Depends on the artist...

The 'here and now' age sees to it that a rise to stardom is an impatient and difficult one, no matter how talented the artist. Forget Universal and Def Jam. Diddy has enough people in Bad Boy's graveyard to prove that a label can do with you what they want. Yet rather than scale Everest on foot, MCs can take the slightly off-balance, green-eyed helicopter known as the label. The ever-borderline drunk pilots run such a good game in the brochures or on magazine covers, so MCs usually don't have a problem handing over their intellectual property. Can you blame guys like Saigon for staying onboard for that long, even when a label has complete control over your artistic freedom?

Kanye, you know this. You're in a position of power compared to the labels, given all your impressive tenure. They have to bow out to you. Banking on success over failure in music is the labels' business, and you've done it well. Twitter retweets itself stupid when you tweet. From performing at the Democratic National Convention to doing a BET Cypher, straddling the line of rapping to the masses and the internet-savvy comes naturally. Who else has performed at Facebook and Twitter? With GOOD Music's appearance under Def Jam, the blogosphere/internet and labels have reason to coexist. Your imprint has already entranced the labels by spawning the career of grammy-winning John Legend. Those GOOD Friday tracks endeared you to the internet, while KiD CuDi, Big Sean, and Cyhi Da Prynce, endeared your name to it.

Bringing GOOD Music to the masses on Def Jam makes that link official. Yes we've seen internet-borne artists from other imprints link with labels. Drake and Nicki are prime examples of that, yet Cash Money Records had already existed on a label at that point. To boot, internet and blog savvy seem to be driving GOOD Music's first official albums under Def Jam. A good deal of Finally Famous has hit the web, and the same will be true for Fear of God II, Royal Flush II, Watch the Throne and To Be Continuum.

Still the question begs, why Kanye? Does hip-hop actually need the labels, or can artists do without them? Curren$y is doing pretty well for himself without major backing and jokes about it in songs. SlaughterHouse makes decent bank on their records, too. So do we really need that link? Isn't this what hip-hop has preached about for years? (insert lyrics here) The results, while promising, are mixed to say the least. Drake was in the limelight, getting around (YMCMB's label)'s iron fist to some degree with his deal, but even he can incur the wrath of the labels. On the other hand, Wale and J. Cole are having trouble catching on via labels, despite internet fanfare. Ross has a hand in it, but on a lesser scale with Meek and Pill. They have a different following altogether, and Maybach Music is signing so many acts, it's hard to tell who even has a chance to drop.

To me, the merits of your transaction boil down to another age-old battle in hip-hop: the album vs. the mixtape. In the Golden Era and beyond, having an album out meant you made it. Having an album was the equivalent of a hot stock ready to explode. Even if you only had one, an album gave the artist recognition and fame, however short-lived. These days, putting out an internet mixtape is like putting out your hand to shake; everyone does it. Yet, mixtapes today are generating more buzz and acclaim than albums. Lately the mixtape is like the incredible foreplay, while the album is the anti-climactic climax. Given Big Sean's first-up status, he'll be the inaugural internet-borne artist (sorry Drake, you were on Degrassi) to debut on a major label. His mixtapes upload like hotcakes, but will your blessing and quintessential power move sell albums? I'm guessing yes, simply because we're coming to a big impasse in the industry. You've forged a new bridge, it's only right you be able to cross it...

Dear Tyler the Creator

If this picture doesn't say it, then nothing does...

No, this isn't a review. There are too many of those floating around, and with the uniqueness of your work, there really isn't a perspective out there that I trust other than my own. I suppose that is the mark of a 'game-changer'. *cringes* If there was a resounding opinion on Goblin, I'd be less likely to write this letter, as no one would be able to differentiate mine from the sea. Rather, this letter is a barometer of sorts; an understanding of how your album, your presence, and what you stand for stand to make waves in the hip-hop industry.

Tyler, I am by no means a fan of your work. Too often, I feel that your macabre and grotesque imagery is done for shock-value and is indicative of your young age. However, I see its appeal for the masses of Odd Future faithful that have appeared over the past year. You cater to a crowd that is internet-savvy, but weary of the structure that the 'blog game' places on the hip-hop industry. Rather than kow-tow to the likes of NahRight 2DopeBoyz and whatever other website, you staunchly disowned them, essentially slandering them constantly. It got to a point where you had the oft-disparaging Eskay (nobody really likes him anyway) engaging in a long Twitter tirade about how much he disliked you, simply because you had gotten to the pinnacle of hip-hop stardom without a virtual cosign from him or the other new hip-hop pundits. Rather than whore yourself through generic press releases done by some PR guy who has no connection to OFWGKTA, you made your sound speak for you, something that most artists have forgotten to do in this 'blog age'.

That you and Odd Future have kept the group a close-knit band of wily, angry teenagers serves to enforce this 'us against the world' mentality that makes you unique. It serves as a bastion of unity, an 'us' in a sea of 'me's' that dominates hip-hop. I've called hip-hop over the past two years an 'arms race of collectives', yet most of the big groups are a mish-mash of different sounds put together for the sole purpose of making money and promotion. Let's be honest. Wale and Meek Mill might be cool on wax, but aside from their MMG imprint, the two have little in common. Drake, Nicki and Wayne are three breeds of rapper being kept in the same kennel. And though all of GOOD Music seem to have similar lyrical abilities, Big Sean's 'swag' stature seems to wane in the shadow of Pusha T's larger-than-life drug raps. Your team's collective sound keeps the outsiders out, and the insiders and fans interested. Never repeating, never re-imagining, always living up to your namesake as a creator, you and your squad have deep wells of inspiration and creativity. It endears the listener because they know you won't be influenced the corporate entities that seem to woo you just for a chance at a chart topper.

Speaking of chart-topping, Goblin debuted at #5 on the Billboard charts. While I'm sure you could give two half-shits about your mainstream standing, as evidenced by you and OFWGKTA's drubbing of FOX News' conservative white reporters, that your name ended up on FOX's clueless lips is evidence enough of how your chaotic style ruffles peoples' feathers. No one knows what you or the Wolf Gang will do next. You don't mirror the rest of the hip-hop world. There is no formula to your madness, which is what makes people tune in. Since the turn of the new year, few if any hip-hop acts have registered on my radar because they all follow formulas.

In a sea of generic, monochromatic goons all searching for beats from the same producers and visuals from the same artists, you've become the technicolor goblin with a squad of monsters behind you just waiting to kill them all. Even as the 'urban' *gags at MTO* and mainstream media catches on, and as most fail to find your true 'niche', it's obvious that categorizing you is pointless. You don't color within the lines. You've already broken any box you could be put in, and shattered any comparisons that could be made. This is all while gaining the adoration of a like-minded, school-hating, establishment-gagging, sneaker-clad army of wolves shouting 'swag!', not as a banner, but as a mockery of the industry that has come to emulate itself so much that the few originators don't even know what to do anymore. Do I 'like' your music? Mehhh... Yet, no one can ever deny the ripples that you and the Wolf Gang are causing, one mosh pit at a time.

Dear Lil' B (re: 'I'm Gay')

Upon reading my last post, I think I raised too many questions and didn't answer enough for myself. I suppose the post was more a rant and forum for discussion, as opposed to some declaration of my stance on homosexuality. Either way, the post got me to thinking: what if a rapper was, indeed, gay? What if an MC decided to shake up the whole world by coming out of the closet? What if everyone's favorite Based God decided to ummm... I don't know... name his album 'I'm Gay'? It turns out I don't have to dream or wonder about such a hypothetical situation anymore, seeing as you, Lil' B the Based God have announced that your new album will be called 'I'm Gay'.



Now, Lil' B, I've had an interesting relationship with your basedness. While saying 'swag' and 'based' and doing your 'Cooking' dance in complete jest, I've come to realize that your movement is less about the music, the 'swag' and the utter nonsense, as it is about the fervent feeling of fanaticism that your Based movement brings. Throngs of skinny jean-clad onlookers chant your lyrics, and encourage you to engage in coitus with their significant others not because they actually consider you a god, but because you give them a deity-like entity to feel attached to. In the same way that Hendrix and the Beatles had fanatics, so do you. I respect that. I respect your undying devotion to self-promotion and making music. While I may debate your own musical aptitude (some of your music sounds like you were smoking the best base while recording), I can never question your love of music, with allusions to Theophilus London among other acclaimed musical personalities. Now that your fame has reached a fever pitch among the underground, what better way to put your name on the front of everyone's watch list than to proclaim your 'gayness' on wax?

Most people reacted to the title with a resounding 'huh?', which then switched to

A) ridicule at the notion that the Based God, whose sole purpose on the planet is to f*ck your b*tch, would effectively proclaim his love of his own sex

OR

B) praise because of how 'bold' a statement calling your album that is, and how you're changing the game, one homosexual at a time...

My take, Lil' B? You're as straight as an arrow. I'm almost 99% sure about that, sans the Tupac nose ring. That said, you calling your album that is exactly what you said: an indictment on the power that words have over us. You claimed that definitions don't mean anything, ironically. Words can make the tallest mountain look like a molehill, and in your case, they will make what would probably have been a frisbee of an album into platinum. Nothing more, nothing less. You being 'gay' is as much a promotional tool as it is a statement of how obsessed hip-hop is with sexuality. That we all are talking about it as a function of sexuality proves that point. And when your gay album does come to pass, I have little doubt in my mind that it will be the same Based God that we've gotten used to, complete with indecipherable lyrics, monotonous profanity and reasons as to why hoes are staid upon your d*ck. And I have even less doubt that you will be gayer (happy gay) than the apparel we don while singing "Fa-la-la-la-LAAA-La-la-la-la" after your gay album drops. You will have successfully pulled a marketing scheme out of your rear end, while simultaneously arousing the attention of GLAAD and chuckling because Kobe Bryant won't be able to mutter gay slurs. Kudos, Lil' B. #SWAG

Dear Lupe Fiasco

Buy Lasers HERE

It's been well over 3 years since your last album, The Cool. That album was a dedication to hip-hops obsession with... well, being cool. It painted a picture of the game and what's cool as being these destructive, yet enticing entities, that would tempt even the most righteous among us. I suppose that is one of your appealing traits as a rapper: your ability to reveal what we celebrate in this 'game' for the detriment it is. When it was revealed that Lasers would finally be released, I rejoiced, not only as a fan excited for new Lupe, but also because it would be a far cry from your usually pithy tone. No longer would the listener not be subject to the thought of how much we're losing. We're lasers, not losers! We don't have to be all melancholy about the way hip-hop is going! We can protest in front of Atlantic Records and get your album released! We don't have to let the labels decide what we have to listen to! That's what I thought Lasers would champion. It turns out we were wrong. Lasers was a disappointing reminder that no matter how much 'we' push, there's a huge chance 'we' won't get what we want. And you were the first person to learn that, Lu.

I won't get into the fact that you derided the album after it leaked or have been lambasting your own effort. That's for you and only you to live with, given the high standard of work that you usually hold yourself to. As a listener and fan, that happening is a bit disconcerting. Even if you weren't doing that, the album still doesn't live up to the height. It starts with a rousing piano solo on 'Letting Go', then delves into an abyss of half-baked choruses and muddled verses. You spoke a lot about war on this song and did a lot of introspection, but not in a palatable way. It was almost like you were writing an angry letter to yourself about everything that grinds your gears, but the letter had no direction and no point.

Lasers continues with probably the best song on the album 'Words I Never Said', a powerful political statement reminiscent of the Lupe we know and love. The song was persistent, unyielding, and unashamed, reminiscent of what I imagine you wanted the album to sound like. You definitely threw that in second so that you could get it off your chest, and then the album takes a nosedive from there. Between 'Till I Get There' and 'I Don't Wanna Care Right Now' the pop-esque instrumentals seem better suited for Flo-Rida than you. Hell, he might as well have been on one of those songs. This is clearly where Atlantic had their way with you. The Trey Songz feature couldn't have been more misplaced, and the track, 'Out of My Head', had the depth of a Jersey Shore reunion. Given how easily you tended to speak about love on your other albums, this was a huge disappointment. You rapped in circular monosyllables, all about superficial things and not the romantic minutiae that endeared you to the fan (think 'Sunshine'). I felt horrible bopping my head to the song. You and Trey could've definitely collaborated and come up with a better song, though I'm not sure Trey has the capacity to go 'deeper' anymore. Even so, 'The Show Goes On' saved Lasers from the dreaded 'halfway point pause-and-never-play-again curse'. Its uptempo vibe brought the listener in and while you didn't RIP your verses, it was hard not to like them.

After that, the album takes another nosedive. It seems like you were sleepwalking through those next two tracks featuring MDMA, and it was hard for me to keep awake during them. You talked about the future constantly, but had a flow sounding like it was stuck in the mud:

They like 'how come you don't rap that' / Cause that's a backtrack / and I ain't tryna back back

Really, Lu? We're taking it back to preschool? This is coming from the guy that wrote 'Dumb it Down'. What happened to digging deep for conceptual greatness? What happened to challenging the listener? What happened to the type of tracks that make you rewind them dozens of times just to catch one line or metaphor or punchline? It seems like you're faking the funk, or just simply f*cked the funk up. 'State Run Radio' got some brownie points back, but the irony of the track was hilarious considering the puppet strings pulling you throughout the whole album. 'Break the Chain' and 'I'll Never Forget You' were snorefests. By the time I got to 'All Black Everything', I had had enough, regardless of how good a song it was. The damage was done. You had successfully shown how 'conscious' hip-hop could have its manhood taken from it and served on a platinum plaque.

Ultimately, Lupe, Lasers failed because you failed to paint the vivid picture that your manifesto for the album did. Rather than champion 'substance in the place of popularity', you got a #1 spot on the Billboards with what was your least substantive album. Rather than 'think (your) own thoughts', Atlantic spoon-fed you 9 concepts and you choked. Lasers wasn't the revolutionary work of art you promised, and no matter how much you downplay your involvement, it's your album. I'd rather you take ownership for this and come back harder with LupEND or Friend of the People or whatever your next work is (you never know now with you, especially with your precarious label situation). To say this was a bad album is a bit much, yet I can't give this one my stamp of approval. It'd not only be going against my better judgment, but your own words. So, Lupe, enjoy your platinum plaque. Like I said, ironically your best-selling album was your worst content-wise. Lasers or losers, this album proved that it is possible to win and lose at the same time. If that's not enough reason to come back with a vengeance, then this should be your last album just like you said 2 years ago, Lupe...

Dear Hype Williams

As inspired by @itsThiz.. Make sure you check out The Interludes for great hip-hop articles.

Now that Lil Tunechi is out of Rikers, it was imperative that the NOLA native got his image back on the scene. The interwebs received his single '6 Foot, 7 Foot' featuring Cory Gunz (at least Wayne didn't jerk Cory out of another platinum feature) warmly, and it was only natural that there needed to be a video to accompany the madness that is Weezy's return. Of all directors, I suppose it made the most sense to hire you, Hype Williams for the job of visually resurrecting Wayne's career. Yet, upon further review of your latest directorial offerings, I'm drawing a few head-scratchers.

The video for 'All of the Lights' had none of the budget and induced more Pokemon-esque seizures than it made fans. While Nicki Minaj's 'Massive Attack' was a frisbee from jump, your visuals did little more than confuse the viewer. Sure there was 'Empire State of Mind', but anyone can juxtapose shots of Alicia Keys and Jigga performing with epic shots of NYCers in all their working-class glory. The megahit 'Forever' with Drake, Ye, Wayne and Eminem was little more than a remake of every club scene, and there's been little to write home about other than those. To tell you the truth, Hype, little if anything has hit as hard as your earliest videos.

Hype, your M.O. in directing has always been larger-than-life productions, combined with colorful scenery, and different cinematic viewpoints. '6 Foot, 7 Foot' is a far cry from the visually stunning cuts for tracks like 'Put Your Hands Where My Eyes Can See', 'Woo-Hah' or 'Down Low'. Hell, you didn't even scratch the fish-eyed lensed, trippy heels of Ma$e's 'Feel So Good' or the almost-macabre grittiness in DMX's 'Get At Me Dog'.

The video for '6 Foot, 7 Foot' is tame at best, for what is an adversely hectic track. Your references to the movie 'Inception' were well-intentioned, but sloppily undergone. Rather than go over-the-top with some of the punchlines, in your usual fashion, you used simple sight gags. Half of the punchlines didn't even get those half-assed visualizations. In fact, the only part of the video I thoroughly enjoyed was Cory's verse (on wax, too), with the Young Gun doing his best Agent Smith impression. To tell you the truth, you're not losing it, but you're losing a lot of traction in my book. The whole 'crew in front of the white screen looking cool' motif has been played out in the recession era of hip-hop. You've outworn your welcome to use the slow-mo camera, and there's little more that you can do with black and white filters. To sum it up, all of the cinematic that made your videos the vanguard of hip-hop are becoming more stale than 'Gettin Jiggy With It' in 2011. It's not enough any more. I've said it numerous times and will continue to: creative hip-hop videos are becoming a lost art, with you being a prime example. I guess even for you, the hype is exceeding the actual products... #youseewhatididthere

Dear Big Sean

Anyone ever see the movie 'Boys Don't Cry' with Hilary Swank? For those of you less cinematically-inclined readers, the film is about a non-operative transgender woman in Nebraska who takes on the persona of a man, and later gets beaten and raped. Vicious imagery aside, the title is what I have to take away. Boys don't cry. And they damn sure don't cry if they're rappers, do they? Rap is supposed to be all about machismo and being a braggadocious male. You can't show emotion in hip-hop if it isn't anger, misogyny or hopelessness! Real rappers don't cry! You can't shed a tear unless either A) your mother, B) your child, or C) one of your homies dies. The opposite, the increasing vulnerability of rappers (let's leave Drake out of this) why the above video is so huge to me, Sean.

I'll admit it, Sean. Your music, while vapid and repetitive at times, is catchy and easy to listen to. That explains why you have so many fans. I get that. What I didn't know is how ingratiated you were to your fans' whims in that video. No rapper over the past few years has been comfortable enough with the supposed masculinity that comes standard with hip-hop, to display their emotions so openly. Rappers are so focused on their egos that they forget how easily they can be destroyed. Sean, take a look at all of the rappers you've known. *waits* How many of those SOB's are either working at Safeway, trapping, or putting out their 15th mixtape to 15 downloads (14 of which were family)? How many rappers have had a hit record, only to be back in the soup kitchen months later? How many rappers have you seen here today and gone tomorrow, without a bat of an eyelash? *waits* My guess is that you lost count before I even finished the question.

Sean, the point here is that you clearly have reached a level of stardom that belies your talent, AND you haven't let it turn you into a Heartless (word to Kingdom Hearts). That you can be vulnerable with your fans shows just how much you appreciate the fame that has fallen in your lap. Regardless of your content, you're in hip-hop for the right reasons. Forget being cool! If every rapper had could show this type of emotion, I shudder to think how powerful hip-hop as a collective would be. Sean, you've made this tour of stardom your own personal party, and you can cry if you want to. Just don't go all DMX on us and... Yeah, let's not get on that either...

Dear Wiz Khalifa

Remember LL Cool J? Remember him putting out 'I Need Love' a month after 'I'm Bad'? Heads tried to claim that Cool James was losing his edge and had gone soft on the radio, rather than keeping up with the tough guy, B-boy image from his previous album 'Radio'. The similarities with today's hip-hop scene are uncanny, with hip-hop finding a foothold in the internet and the mainstream media finally catching on. Wiz, your new single 'Roll Up' is the bubbly-sounding, radio friendly single that should take you from the smoked-out underground clientele that made you popular, to the 16 year old suburban crowd that will paint your pockets green. The fact that there is such an option is evidence of the divergence that hip-hop takes during its peaks, where an artist can either cater to the sound that made them famous or record a chart-buster.

Taking a look at the song's contents, it's surprising that the song is entitled 'Roll Up'. Normally, a song wit that name coming from you would be dubbed a smoker's anthem before heads even hit play. Compared with the Batman (subjective) to your Robin, Curren$y, you've taken upon the art of making music for the charts rather than the fans that got you to this point. Such a song is the airy, vapid, easy, non-threatening flow that's required for a foray into the mainstream. And that's not necessarily a bad thing. Think about it this way: Spitta sold less than 50,000 records after BOTH of his records albums dropped in 2010 to almost universal acclaim. In contrast, between Ghostface Killah, the blogs and the entire Twitterverse, 'Roll Up' was getting ridiculed as softer than terry cloth. That your song is getting so much flack is an indication that your album is going to sell, and well. Do I think your softer sound is good? No, not in the least. I'd rather the 'Deal or No Deal' Wiz than the 'Rolling Papers' Wiz any day, but I'm not your target audience anymore. I guess you'll be laughing all the way as you roll up to the bank...

Dear J. Cole (re: Friday Night Lights)

DOWNLOAD: J. Cole - Friday Night Lights



I've said it numerous times, and I'll say it again: Basketball and hip-hop are closer akin than most would like to believe. Both are team sports (check this post, if you're unsure as to what that means), both require intense practice and tutelage, and both are very unforgiving. Most players only get one chance, and most of those players either thrive or don't get a second chance.

J. Cole, this is your third mixtape. By industry standards, and for how famous you are at this juncture, that is about 2 mixtapes more than most make in their lives. The first one was 'The Come Up', or the work leading up to the game. The second one was 'The Warm Up' or the practice right before the game, and the subsequent introduction to fans of a wider variety. Now that it's your third mixtape, those 'Friday Night Lights', or more aptly put, the limelight is on you and is waiting for your performance. Keeping in line with the athletic motif, it's obvious to see why you will be an All-Star in hip-hop for years to come. This mixtape is as complete of a game as one will find today, with an array of different facets of your game for admirers and opposing players to marvel at. From thought provoking tracks, to love songs, to songs for the ladies, to pure beat-knockers, to those 'damn I can relate' songs, there's something for everyone in this work.

One of the things that impressed me so much with FNL is that you were able to seamlessly integrate the features you did into the mixtape. Your first two mixtapes only had 2 features on them altogether. This third one had not only your imprint-mate Omen and your Roc Nation kin Wale (on 'You Got It'), but Drake on the bedtime ballad 'In the Morning'. I point to this namely because you held your own on a track that could have been a massacre for you. Cole, I won't lie. Your style of rap doesn't lend itself to being soft, even though feelings are a great part of your lyrics. That said, Drake is the king of emotions in hip-hop today. That you could go bar for bar with him on a song about the fairer sex and your erotic escapades with them is nothing short of practice gone perfect.

Another part of FNL that made the work so memorable was how honest it was. The best works of music are an accurate portrait of the artist's internal and external reality at that point in time. That means the artist's understanding of what's going on around him and how he and those around him are affected by those goings on. Albums like Illmatic, Ready to Die, and Lifestyles ov da Poor and Dangerous (to name a few) are instant snapshots of what their respective makers were going through at that time. Hip-hop is a barometer for the masses, which is why most great works aren't recognized until well after they happen. Your work on FNL is no different, although you deal a lot more in the ruminations of a college graduate/rapper, rather than a drug dealer/rapper. Tracks such as 'Home for the Holidays' talk about the trivialities of coming home from a semester at school to the ills of the ghetto, while 'Too Deep For the Intro' delves into the troublesome standard that black women adhere to.

Cole, your penchant for telling stories is well seasoned and well-worn in this mixtape, as well. Where other rappers simply describe situations, you inscribe your understanding into the listener's mind without flinching. While you have interesting discourse as to the conundrums that plague the black community, you never hesitate to say 'niggas', just as a reminder that while you are from that environment, you are not of that environment. That's especially evident on songs like '2Face' and 'See World'. It's eerie to see such a dichotomy in hip-hop, especially considering the juncture that a great like Jay-Z is at, commenting on the state of black America, all while embracing that he is a part of that reality. Not to liken you to Jay-Z (we don't need to add fire to that Jay/Nas - Cole/Drake argument), but you seem comfortable dealing with a range of topics and being able to expound on them without it getting corny.

Finally, the best part of FNL is how well-delivered your verses are. Delivery is something that few rappers can master, and you're well on your way to that. The 'Back to the Topic Freestyle' was a perfect example of that, with how easily those multi-syllabic lines seemed to roll off your tongue. In terms of breath control, enunciation and syncopation, there was little lacking on that song or on the mixtape. It's a testament to the perfectionist in you, and those skeptical fans who thought you could come harder... I remember on 'The Warm Up' when you re-did your freestyle to 'Dead Presidents' for that same reason. 'Friday Night Lights' is the equivalent of dunking on that fan with 2 seconds left and the game on the line. You practiced your craft, and are now in a position to display your talents on a wider scale. There's nothing more organic than that, in basketball, hip-hop or life, for that matter. That we're seeing your maturation on wax is a beautiful thing, and something very warm and fuzzy as we prepare to enter your 'Cole World'...

Dear Hip-Hop Collectives

via Billboard.com

Another "Jay" has been added to the Roc Nation roster. It was announced yesterday (Nov. 12) that New Orleans rapper Jay Electronica signed with Jay-Z's personal imprint, joining acts J. Cole and Willow Smith at the recently formed label. And to celebrate, Jay-Z threw a lavish party at New York club The Box that neither Jay E, nor anyone else in attendance, would soon forget.

The event -- which kicked off at about 10:15pm and drew head-turning guests like Beyonce and Omarion -- was a three-ring circus that included sexy burlesque dancers, an aerial gymnast, a Russian hula-hoop master and a girl whose "talent" was having men shoot arrows at balloons that were strategically positioned over her privates. But despite all the eye candy, the Jays still managed to steal the show.

Jay-Z, decked out in a sharp black suit, took the stage and told his guests about his "goal to reintroduce magic back into hip-hop, the love, the wizardry." With that, Jay introduced "Mr. Jay Electronica, the official Roc Nation signee" to the thunderous applause of the audience.

I'm going to go out on a limb in saying this, but it's always been true: Hip-hop is a team sport. From it's inception, rappers have been getting down with crews as a way to not only gain an opportunity in hip-hop, but for a chance to stay relevant and rake in that cash. Crews like the The Sugar Hill Gang, The Furious Five, Juice Crew, Run DMC and N.W.A. and others began the trend of group dominance, but it wasn't until the mid-90s, when hip-hop started becoming corporate, that rappers began finding strength in numbers.

Groups like Death Row, Bad Boy, the Wu-Tang Clan, and Leaders of the New School, based around record labels, showed that a good team could dominate the airwaves better than any one person. Posse cuts were rampant, with tracks like 'Bring Da Ruckus' and'Scenario' giving listeners a maelstrom of flows, lyrics and ideas from different rappers to sink their ears into. The Bad Boy Family, with its huge stable of artists like Biggie, The LOX, Faith Evans, Ma$e, Criag Mack, 112 and others made it so that if you weren't down with a specific team, you weren't getting any play. Towards the end of the 90's teams like Ruff Ryders solidified that tenet, going platinum on behalf of Yonkers. Even the early 2000s saw teams thrive, with the Diplomats, Cash Money and G-Unit dominating the re-emerging mixtape circuit.

Enter 2010, and we are having another resurgence of groups. The middle of this past decade was lukewarm in terms of hip-hop's reach, and for good reason. Headliners were the name of the game, as solo artists looked to regain some of the posture that being in groups had taken away. Ironically, a handful of those solo artists are nowhere to be found, while groups are coming back. Take a look at the most popular songs of the past year or so. $50 says that they came from a Roc-a-fella, Cash Money/Young Money, GOOD Music, 1017 Brick Squad or Slaughterhouse Artist.

Lil' Wayne started it. By signing Nicki Minaj, Drake and a host of other up-and-comers, it made the market a little bit harder to break into. The Young Money label has thrived ever since. Even if their group releases have been sub-par, the solo releases under that imprint have come out to tremendous publicity and accolade. The same can be said about Kanye West's GOOD Music imprint. Before the summer was over, most people couldn't name an artist on that team besides Ye, Common and Big Sean. A few months later, with the signings of Pusha T and Cyhi the Prynce, Ye has put together a formidable starting 5. Even Ye's big homie Jay-Z has taken part in hip-hop's arms race, signing J. Cole, Wale and now Jay Electronica. Today, success in hip-hop is just as much about who you're rapping with as it is what you're rapping about. By being part of a team, you give yourself more access to resources such as producers, studios, features and better promotion. Just ask artists who are unaffiliated how many units they honestly see themselves pushing and it will become clear.

This team-building in hip-hop doesn't come without it's caveats. First of all, it's evident that among these teams, there is always a star player. For Young Money it's Wayne, for GOOD Music it's Kanye and for Roc Nation it is Jay-Z. These designations open the group up to a power struggle, especially when the student can be, or is, better than the teacher. When it comes to label dynamics, no matter how talented one is, the bigger name always gets the press. J. Cole, Wale and Jay Electronica, while they will get a good deal of the spotlight, will always be under Jay-Z. Drake and Nicki Minaj will always be Lil' Wayne's younger siblings (ironic, considering his status and Baby's 'son'). Pusha T will now be considered Kanye's protege, even if he's been in the game longer. What happens if the subordinates are unhappy with that position, a la Juelz Santana circa 2006? Will it be a situation where their musical career is siphoned off to the highest bidder, or will they just have to find their own way out from Big Brother's watch?

The hip-hop arms race is clearly a result of labels being hesitant to take chances on one person. Artists are quick to latch on to a 'movement' in the hopes that it will take them to another level of success. The problem is, how to balance one's individual aspiration with the success of the team. Every team in hip-hop history has broken up because of egos and money, and nothing more. How do artists know whether they are in it for the right reasons? Better yet, if they aren't, how can they work together? Busta Rhymes, Ice Cube, Young Buck and Beanie Sigel are all examples of artists who were excommunicated because their wishes outreached that of the group. Will the groups of today be destined for that same fate?

My final concern with you, oh great hip-hop collective is whether this era of collaboration will last. As much as I have my questions, there is no question as to whether hip-hop music has thrived because of it. One look at the success of Kanye's GOOD Fridays is enough proof. Ye brought together artist upon artist upon artist to make some of the biggest records of the past year. Will that be the formula for success in the near future? Whatever the case, it seems like the hip-hop collective is back and will be for a while. As commemoration for the hip-hop collectives of the past, check out some of my favorite posse cuts in hip-hop history (not in chronological order):

Dear MC Hammer

You know how you know you're getting old? When you see performers, artists and actors from your earlier days making fools of themselves today, and wonder 'where did it all go wrong?' Today is such a day for you MC Hammer. Now, I don't particularly understand what your gripe with Jigga is. What he said in that line from Kanye's 'So Appalled' was completely true, and you know it.

“Hammer went broke, so you know I’m more focused/I lost 30 mil’, so I spent another 30/’Cause unlike Hammer, 30 million can’t hurt me,

No, it's not nice to kick a man when he's down, nor is it in good taste to discuss another man's money. But come on, Hammer. You know that at least one point in the past 15 years you've said to yourself: 'Where did all that motherf*ckin' money go?' And thanks to modern accounting and banking, you now know exactly where you went wrong in your monetary decisions. It's great that you've put that era behind you and begun to seek new things in your life.

That said, Hammer, making diss videos towards Jay isn't going to cure your hungry pockets. It's all well and good that you're making an attempt to resurrect your career, but you've showed up late to an entire revolution of technology and social media. Times have changed, Hammer. Diss tracks are like assholes now. Everyone puts them out as feeble attempts to gain notoriety, in the 50 Cent mold. And sadly, Hammer, you're no different. Diss track aside, the fact that you put out a music video to go with it is beyond laughable. Seriously, man. Who dances for a diss track? Didn't we leave that alone in the 80s (well before you were popping onto the scene)? Also, what did the little boardroom meeting have to do with anything? You know the last time you had a corporate meeting that meant anything, it was your contract release meeting. Add to that, the song sucks. I know it. You know it. The American people know it.

Hammer, this isn't the way to get your celebrity back. You do know that Jay-Z won't even regale this with a response? If anything he'll toss another (singular) bar at you and probably have the internets going nuts with laughter. No, Hammer, it's not that your musical contributions have been forgotten. It's just that you're choosing to take on a titan of hip-hop, when you've clearly been downgraded to a mere mortal. Why not take the Rev Run route and get a reality TV show or something? I'm sure it'll have more shelf life and profit coming out of it than this sorry video...

Iron Solomon - Rule #4081 (ft. Cassidy)

Iron Solomon - Rule #4081 (ft. Cassidy)

While the next wave of battle rappers is waiting in line to be on a Smack DVD or the next Youtube sensation, the older wave is trying to cash in on that fame, with mixed results. Two of the most famous from that era, Iron Solomon and Cassidy are synonymous with freestyle supremacy, so it's only right that the two would find their way onto a track together. Ironically, the song is about what you need to do to make it onto the scene in hip-hop, with hilarious results. Solomon and Cass made light of the drama and controversy-laced entries into the music industry with this track. 'Rule #4081' describes all of the dirt you have to have in order to be famous, and we can all point out a few rappers who've used that formula to get on top. Whether it's getting shot, a sextape or what have you, can we get back to liking rappers because they can rap, not because of the stories behind them? I know that'll probably fall on deaf ears, but hearing a song like this has to resonate for some of the rappers who follow Dear Whoever. Check out Iron Solomon and Cassidy's rulebook for hip-hop supremacy and start plotting your rise to the top...

Dear DJ Khaled

Khaled, let me say this: I've never liked you. I never thought you had an inkling of talent, though everywhere I turn people are lauding your additions to the hip-hop game. I don't see them. Even so, I'm not here to debate your credentials as a hip-hop personality (there are no credentials for that, at this point), nor am I here to trash your musicality (as if you really had much to begin with). Today, I'm going to talk about your ridiculous assertion, that, among the masses of talented MC's out there today, Rick Ross is a great. A great??? Look Khaled, Ross' album was, in fact, very good. The man has a penchant for making good music that one can not only nod their head to while sipping fine wine, but shake their metaphorical dreads while riding with the top down in the 305. That said, we have to draw a line. You said Ricky Rawse should be up there with Jay-Z, Biggie and, most baffling of all, Bob Marley??? *Bob Marley's spirit gets bit by a truck* Bob Marley?? Khaled, as a Jamaican-American, and as a hip-hop fan, I want to give you the People's Elbow for that one. You might as well have said Al Green, Luther Vandross and Earth, Wind and Fire while you were at it. C'Mon son. Rozay is nice, but not nice enough to be mentioned in the same breath as Robert Nesta Marley or Biggie or Tupac. When Rawse decides to address his life as a federale, as well as make some music that talks about social ills and progression, maybe we can start the conversation. But as long as his inspirations for his verses are Big Meech and Larry Hoover, you, Khaled need to stick to screaming on tracks and being rowdy at award shows...

Dear Cynical Rap Fans

Bun tore this guy a new one and made this message clear: Respect the MC, especially if you can't do it.

One of my friends dropped a serious gem on me a few weeks back: being a blogger (especially dealing with music or sports) is essentially being a professional hater. Now all you bloggers and hip-hop fans out there, let that statement sink in and marinate for a few seconds. As a blogger or a rap fan, you specialize in hating. You might very well love and adore a few acts, genres and movement among the greater movement of hip-hop, yet a great deal of your time is spent actively, vehemently and vocally disliking other entities, if not for page views and ratings, then for e-props and an ego boost. That said, I can't even distance myself from that bug. This blog, in many a post, has been a forum for airing out my grievances with issues in rap, rather than bigging up those that I side with. The whole hip-hop universe is riddled with hate, from angry Twitter rants from artists and fans alike (guilty), to random beefs, to the blogs themselves being partial. It's as if we've forgotten the fact that hip-hop was supposed to be fun at one point. Gone is the jovial, gregarious nature of the inner-city art form, as hip-hop becomes cold, impersonal and pugnacious behind computer screens. You'd think that at a showcase of the purest form of hip-hop congregation, the freestyle battle, heads would be able to chime in on the victors without the jeering and hate coming from the crowd. That clearly wasn't the case.

Bun B is the trillest. Point blank. If you have any questions as to why all of his albums include the word 'trill', it is because Bun is simply trill. That's why you can't be mad at Bun issuing a challenge to one of you, a cynical, hating, hip-hop concert dweller, probably fresh off his millionth listen to Atmosphere's 'Overcast' and donning his traditional backpack. As a cynical hip-hop fan, this fool jeered and taunted the contestants from the crowd for the whole show, only to be called out on stage by The Trill One and fumble over a really, really shitty freestyle. That freestyle, and the deafening boos from the crowd not only gave him a first class ticket to the exit, they showed the dangers of being a hater.

Cynical hip-hop fans, how many of you can rap? ...I mean really rap. How many of you can piece together a verse over a beat, or write an ill chorus, or go off the top of the dome in a battle? How many of you can rock a crowd and have thousands singing along to your songs? *crickets* My guess is few, if any of you; myself included. Too often do you find that the ones criticizing the art form the most are the least exceptional at that artform. They say those who can't do, critic, and those who can't critic simply sit on the sidelines giving sideways comments. We can all name at least one head whose life goal and prerogative is to rake muck at every possible instance. Unfortunately, not all of them have or will have the blessing of being publicly embarrassed by a hip-hop legend to humble them. That said, it's not really our job to put you in your place, oh scornful hip-hop fan. Where did all of this hate come from anyway? Whether you're a failed rapper, producer, or manager who started a blog, or you've had a hip-hop snob license for over a decade, keep the hate to a minimum, especially if you can't rap to save a second of your life. Lord knows I might have needed this letter more than you, to remind me not only that not everything has to be battle, but also to work on my freestyling, in the event that I ever do get called out. To you, oh cynical hip-hop fan, I hope the same wisdom be imparted. Maybe you'll get to see the show instead of getting booed out of the venue...

Dear Kanye West

It takes a lot for someone to 'change the game'. By that, I mean someone operating in a way that goes against the grain of the time, and makes everyone else reconsider and reevaluate how they're going about their business. When someone changes the game, the status quo takes a hit. Not necessarily a hit that will rearrange everything, but just enough for the rest of the world to take notice. Over the past 4 years, blogs have begun a steady coup of the hip-hop game. Whether through internet labels preparing digital-only releases or the online mixtape phenomena, blogs now have a considerable amount of control over who's 'next' or who's time it is to shine. Chances are, if you've got a huge blog following, then you have pull in the hip-hop industry. That said, it's gotten to the point of over-saturation, where there are so many rappers on the scene, that no one knows who to listen to anymore! Go on any hip-hop blog today, and you'll find a different cast of characters than you did the previous day. That's not a bad thing; it's simply the state of the industry. It's hard for people to stand out. That is why your recent tour of... everywhere, is so mind-blowing, Kanye.

Over the past week, you've visited the offices of Twitter, Facebook, Rolling Stone, at each, speaking on not only the state of the music industry, but your own state. The way you presented yourself was damn near classic, Ye. You were professional, coming dressed in a simple black suit, black tie and donning the 'cool guy' sunglasses so we knew you weren't a corporate drone like the people in the audience. All of the speeches you gave were impeccable. I've yet to hear an artist admit that the places where most get their musical inspiration from are dark, morbid, depressed ones. That you want to bring your music out of joy and hope is a breath of fresh air for the industry. In fact, it's a rarity that you spope on it at all. Artists are notorious for keeping their personal lives chambered after they blow up (their first works may be raw and emotional), so to have you being open about the feelings that went into 'Good Ass Job' (apparently that might not be the album title anymore) is incredible.



A huge point in these visits was when you mentioned being a truth-teller in your music. I find that so groundbreaking. Everyone says that their album is the truth, but few artists actually purvey truth in their music, whether personal or public. 'Truth,' as most artists use it is a way to say you've lived something, not necessarily that you've learned from it or grown as a person (or artist) from it. Kanye, we can see such growth from you in these videos. Whereas last year, you had your mouth glued to a Henny bottle and your hands to Amber Rose's butt, now you seem to be as clear as day. Back to the music, though. The verses you spit at these places were too dope. 'Chain Heavy' had the makings of a track that would ruin the jewelry industry, 'Mama's Boyfriend' tells the story that every child with a single mother will vibe with, and the third one (no title, I suppose) has introspection written all over it. If those three songs are any indication of your album, this should be one of the greatest musical works in a WHILE. I guess when you write from a position of contentment, everything you put out there flows so much better. There's no need to gloss it over with auto-tune or unnecessary features. Labels and whoever else can't put the brakes on your work because you're doing it from such a good place that it automatically sounds good. People can feel the difference in your the beat, your words, your delivery and everything in between.

Kanye, if these sightings signal anything, they show that personal semantics, intimate theatrics, and simply going to the people are the way things should be done. The days when a person could showcase their talents from behind a keyboard are slowly dwindling (ironic that I'm writing this on a blog; sue me). It's not enough to shoot bloggers and tastemakers (I really hate that term, but that's a different blog post) press releases, leaks, random freestyle videos, and mixtapes. As a musician, you have to show why your work is the best, especially in hip-hop, where everyone claims they're the best. You're taking the game away from the computers (though you visited two social networking sites) and back to the (hypothetical) streets. It's very grass roots-esque, and different from anything we're seeing today. Your efforts seem duly poised to change the game Ye. Whether the album is a Good Ass Job (you see what I did there?) or something beyond that, we'll see in September...

Dear Drake (re: Thank Me Later)

I wish someone could have put me in front of a magic crystal ball a year and a half ago when I was playing 'Comeback Season' and 'So Far Gone' into the ground. In fact, I wanted to post this in a week, when 'Thank Me Later' officially dropped (#shoutout to the internet for leaking EVERYTHING nowadays), but the ringing in my ears was reason enough for me to keep writing. You see, Drake, I'm a rare fan. I've been listening since 'Comeback Season' first dropped. Before that, I'd only known you as Jimmy Brooks from DeGrassi, as most people did. After hearing the last bar on that mixtape, I didn't think you were hip-hop's savior, but just another rapper; a good one, albeit. There was something so, so organic about 'Comeback Season'. You really sounded like a rapper who was struggling to find his sound, his place in the industry and a mate, things I could relate to. Upon listening to 'So Far Gone', it was evident that you had stumbled onto something bigger. You were suddenly the Golden Child of hip-hop, able to cross the bridge that hadn't been traversed since the days of 'Get Rich or Die Trying': a sound that the hip-hop heads and labels could agree on; music that not only got you nodding your head, but thinking about the lyrics; an artist the caliber of Will Smith, who could bring together the galvanized nature of hip-hop. Hell, you even said it on 'Ignorant Shit':

Me doin' a show is getting everyone nervous / cause them hipsters gon' have to get along with them hood niggas

That was 2009, the year everyone found out about you... And the year the Drake of old would be 'So Far Gone'. Enter June 2, 2010. I entered my Twitter account as I do most weekday mornings to find that 'Thank Me Later' had been leaked. T'wasn't the biggest surprise in the world, considering 3/4 of the album was already in circulation on the blogs. Drake, I'll make no secrets about it. I obtained 'Thank Me Later' through less than legal means. As a huge rap fan, my impatience outweighed the need to pad your wallet. That said, it sucks to see what you've worked hard for 3 years for, just fall through the cracks 2 weeks before you were ready for it to drop. Yet and still, in this day and age when little is held in confidence, you should be somewhat happy that it leaked so close to the release date, and that it was a limited leak. Even so, I was still surprised to find how much sh*t heads (including myself) were talking about the album. I thought people were 'fans'. I thought I was a fan. Upon my first listening to the album, I thought 'Damn, this isn't the Drake I expected. This sucks!!!'

That was pure folly on my part. Drake, after my second listen all the way through, I commend you. 'Thank Me Later' wasn't a swagger-laced ode to money, power and women, though it spoke of it heavily. It also wasn't full of love songs, though love was a major theme in it. The excesses, triumphs and perks of fame were prevalent, though they seemed to be more of a bane than a spoil to you. Drake, 'Thank Me Later' sounded like an ode to a simpler time in your life. So much of the album is about the changes you've endured not only personally, but in terms of your surroundings. As the chorus to 'Over' says, there are so many new faces around that at some point you have to say 'Who the f*ck are y'all??' 'Thank Me Later' is one of the most honest, sincere and ingenuous albums I've heard in a year or two. Whereas people (including myself) were looking for more of the same Drake from the past year, it seems like you've reverted to the Drake right before 'So Far Gone,' focused yet limber, idealistic yet cynical. It's actually a really good look for you. It's not the vapid existence I've grown to loathe over the past year, though it's not the naive Drake whose love is given freely and taken for granted. In terms of a sound, the album is one of the cleanest I've heard this decade. Every beat sounds wonderfully mastered and there aren't stray sounds or white noise that detract from the instrumentals. The way acoustic instruments and digital synthesizers are used together is damn near masterful.

'Thank Me Later' has depth that not everyone can appreciate. When I say that, I mean the heads who dislike the album aren't seeing it through your eyes. They want the glamorized, glitzy 2-bit punchlines that Lil' Wayne instilled in you. They can't grasp the introspective nature of some of the songs. It's as if you're trying to give the listeners a glimpse into fame through your eyes, but they're so jaded by the fame that they hear an artist bitching and rapping about things that are irrelevant to them. Drake, I'm by no means saying 'Thank Me Later' is one of the classics. In fact, I'd still say 'Comeback Season' and 'So Far Gone' have a little more *umph* to them. Sometimes it did seem as if you were revisiting themes and lacking punchlines. However, for an album, and a debut album at that, it's hard to do much better than you did, especially with the weight and expectations of all of hip-hop riding on your coattails. 'Thank Me Later' has radio tracks already and has tracks that one would only listen to by themselves. People will knock their heads to it, and certainly buy it. It might not go platinum, but it will probably be the best-selling album of the year, unless Kanye & Eminem go bananas on their offerings. I won't offer up any #dopetracks for this review considering it's a letter, but if I had to pick one, 'Thank Me Now' is the strongest track on my opinion. It's ironic that the track that signals 'Thank Me Later' is 'Over' is the one that sounds the most like a new beginning. I guess all we can do now is listen and wait. Kudos for a dope album...

'The Mixtape Was Better' T-Shirt

Sometimes, I wish these new 'blog' rappers wouldn't even put out albums. The title of 'album', to them, is indicative of a work that has to be mixed and mashed and cut into perfect squares and packaged for God knows what reason. It's as if once an artist says they're putting out an album, they become unnatural in their process. The music isn't as raw, soulful, insightful or.. good. That's right, I'm saying it. These days, artists in hip-hop and R&B put out better mixtapes than albums. Trey Songz, Wale, KiD CuDi, Wiz Khalifa, Curren$y.. the list goes on forever! If Drake and J. Cole flop (Drake's album is looking extra regular from the leaks), then I might just give up hope for hip-hop (hyperbole). But I suppose it's good that such a vibe is rearing its head. More people bump with mixtapes than albums these days anyway. It's just the record labels and radio stations still on the other side. I guess this was much more of a rant than a post about a t-shirt. Even so, the t-shirt brings up something we've all thought about music today. Props to the fellows at Academy Printwear for getting the word out in wearable form...

At $14 a pop, this might be a better buy than a lot of albums...

Dear Dr. Dre

ItsTheReal always seems to find the perfect way to say the things I've been thinking for years...

Okay, we're gonna start this letter off with a question. What lie do rappers tell the most???
A) I'm working with (insert producer here)!!
B) The label/manager/supervising entity is holding me back.
C) My album is dropping soon!!

(take a few minutes)

(shouldn't be that hard)

(there are only a few answers)

DING DING DING!!!! The answer is C) My album is dropping soon!!

Now, to you Dr. Dre... I'll put it out there. The first rap album I bought with my own money was The Chronic 2001, in 1999. I had to hide it from my mother because of the lyrics, the cover and the huge Parental Advisory sticker, but it was completely worth it. I knew every word to that album, and if you throw it on today, I'll probably still spit the lyrics like I'm rollin up with you and Snoop. That's not the point of this letter though, Dre. Since 1999, when you dropped The Chronic 2001 (why was the date 2 years off??), the only instance we've heard from you is on Aftermath albums (Eminem, 50, The Game) and in commercials. Production was always your forte, so I have no gripes about that. But the last time I checked, you were Dr. Dre, not Dr. Pepper.

Instead of Beats by Dre, how about we have some Raps by Dre???


Hearkening back to the question I asked at the beginning of the letter, we've heard more talk about Detox than Tupac rumors, and there's still nothing. The Game, 50, Em, and every artist that you've lent a beat to in the past 10 years has alluded to 'Detox', and there's still nothing. Rappers have came and gone, retired and unretired, went to jail and came back, and we still know nothing about Detox. According to rumors, you have over 100 songs recorded for the album. What's the deal?? We all know you're a perfectionist. That's all good and peachy. But when you're not even writing half of the songs that are going to be on the album, does it really matter as much? Dre, I know you're a hip-hop icon, and you're one of the greatest producers ever, and yadda yadda yadda... It just sucks waiting for a hip-hop album for over 10 years!! Not to mention, if Detox is anything less than 6 mics (out of 5), I will disavow all knowledge of you. At this point, Dre, you have to debate whether the concept is even relevant anymore. If one of the tracks is not heat rocks, I'll consider your legacy tainted. It doesn't take a doctor or 10 years to figure that out...

B.o.B. - Fame x Past My Shades x Airplanes (Pt. 1 & 2)

B.o.B. - Fame


B.o.B. - Past My Shades (ft. Lupe Fiasco)


B.o.B. - Airplanes (Pt. 1) (ft. Hayley Williams)


B.o.B. - Airplanes (Pt. 2) (ft. Eminem & Hayley Williams)

I've never been quick to eat my words, but in all honesty, I can't hold back anymore. Bobby Ray is about to blow. Point. Blank. Period. Two top 10 iTunes downloads don't lie. Neither does the crossover potential of a track like Airplanes (Pt. 2). And neither do insane collabs with Lupe Fiasco and Eminem. The thing that impresses me about B.o.B. right now is that he's mastered his flow and is rapping like himself. We can't even compare him to 3 Stacks right now because he's already distinguished himself and found a lane. No, I'm not heralding the rebirth of hip-hop, but it's a bright sign to see an artist garner so much press right now, and have so much anticipation with him. Better yet, it's a bright sign to see more than one artist like that, with Drake and J. Cole gaining steam too. I don't like quoting myself, but this tweet couldn't be truer these days:

Dear Recently Incarcerated Rappers

Shyne - Messiah


T.I. - I'm Back

(cue The Price is Right music) TI and Shyne!! Come on down!!! You guys are the next rappers to come out of jail and release sub-par tracks!!! (end The Price is Right Music) No, seriously guys. Congratulations on both of your releases from prison for charges both deserved (TIP, you know you were wrong for that one) and undeserved (truth be told, Diddy ought to be locked up). I hope your rehabilitation is going well and that both of you are in good spirits. That said, good spirits, the love of family, friends and fans, and infinite press releases can never hide what an MP3 doesn't. By releasing 'Messiah' and 'I'm Back' both of you have placed yourselves back in the ever-widening pool of MCs that now populate hip-hop. Both of you have pretty well known names in the game, so both tracks got a listen. Unfortunately, neither track got the ultimate honor by being downloaded into my iTunes. It's not that I'm not a fan of either of you guys. It's just that the tracks... well... they sucked. Shyne, you aren't the Messiah of hip-hop, no matter how much you want to claim you get villified. And TIP, entitling a song 'I'm Back' and essentially talking about nothing in the track sets you up to not be back for long.

You see, the big pitfall of being a 'gangsta' (ugh, I hate that word) rapper, is that while you can perpetuate that lifestyle, the minute you're in the hands of Johnny Law, all that goes out the window. You can't claim to tote guns 2 weeks after getting out of the pen!! That's like putting your own fingerprints in booking! As a matter of fact, I'd be hard pressed to find any songs that you can write without putting your name out there in a negative light. Not that either of you wouldn't be able to; it's just harder to make a mark like that. It's even harder considering the way hip-hop is going: from Berettas to blogs, from Pyrex to press releases, from pushing white to page views on Wordpress. Hip-hop is getting less hood by the day, though most rappers would claim otherwise. Guys, don't take my word for it, though. Go out and do you. Enjoy the free man's life and become the studio rats that you once were. Hopefully both of you get back to form. As a matter of fact, I hope the same thing for your friend Weezy F. Baby. Lord knows he might have to change his tune after his time at Rikers...

Where is 24 Hour Karate School?

That's a great question, isn't it?? DJ Ski Beatz's collaborative effort of a mixtape has ostensibly been pushed back from its March 30 release date. Ski chalked it up to sampling woes on Twitter, but in all honesty, shouldn't they be working on those while they're working on the album? Rather than give us a date (which was a pushed back one in the first place), I would have just kept the date tentative, and when I knew it was done, start talking about the work. All this does is water down whatever response you would have gotten. I'm still copping the tape, but delays are no way to please your fanbase. Maybe they should have been clearing the samples instead of making videos about it...