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haveyouheardthisband · 38 minutes
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oldestsoul · 1 year
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Tracklist:
Psycho • Streatham • Black • Purple Heart • Location • Disaster • Screwface Capital • Environment • Lesley • Voices • Drama
Spotify ♪ YouTube
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ganonjo · 11 months
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Ganonjo-pokemon « dans la vie, jamais faire de bien aux gens trop mauvais... »
Prod- ganonjo
Rap-ganonjo
Perso-ADO (afrikan. Demon one)
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pettybourgeoiz · 1 year
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luuurien · 1 year
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billy woods & Messiah Musik - Church
(Abstract Hip Hop, Boom Bap, East Coast Hip Hop)
Stepping away from expansive album concepts and looking inwards towards a narrative of heartbreak, politics and faith, billy woods' second album of 2022 explores a vulnerable side of him rarely seen in his expansive discography. It's a thrilling change for a rapper so often shrouded in such mystery.
☆☆☆☆½
Church is the most we've ever learned about billy woods on a single album of his, and that alone is something to get excited about. One of underground hip-hop's most elusive figures, everything about woods comes solely from his music, yet there's an emotionality and warmth to it all nonetheless: his explorations of Blackness and the African diaspora on this April's Aethiopes hid delicate personal moments in the densely packed writing of songs like Remorseless ("The chain say envy, but PTSD keep me countin', never spendin' / My accountant is a head full of bad memories and sad endings") and Asylum ("Downstairs I hear my mother breaking dishes, my father trippin' / It's been quite bad lately, high tension"), and 2019's Hiding Places found a similar balance as he reckoned with poverty and class systems through the cracked lens of Kenny Segal's production ("I'm the feelin' after you killed him and seen the safe empty / The weight lift like payday lendin' / Face twist at the memory," he rapped on the magnificent Speak Gently). In Church, he chooses to do something entirely unexpected from someone who has long been known for his lyrical mystique and thematic fogginess: write straight from his perspective. Though it takes on the same thematic complexity and rich imagery of his past projects, woods focuses here on a breakup which earns a larger role as the catalyst for contemplations on faith, family, and exploitative systems - all familiar themes for woods, but given a sharp personal bent through the lessons his own childhood religiosity taught him and how those memories persist in his world today. He's still a master of his craft, and the unorthodox viewpoints Church injects into his music prove vulnerability and warmth are as important to his work as any of its intellectual elements. Entirely produced by Messiah Musik, who's previously found himself in woods' orbit with his production for Armand Hammer, his murky boom-bap style provides woods' rapping more padding to bounce off of than the colder, emptier atmospheres Aethiopes used to put his storytelling at the forefront. While woods' rapping adds dimensionality and color to Church's world. Messiah's production is the album's beating heart, pushing him into sentimentality with Classical Music's gorgeous piano loop or sneaking in some discomfort with the warped, muted horns in the background of Fever Grass - it might feel underwhelming coming off the tail-end of Aethiopes' blend of dub and blues and 90's boom bap, but by no means are these beats poorly made, not in the slightest. woods also benefits from the smokiness Messiah's sampling style lends to Church, able to stay in his comfort zone of moody confessionals while never being face-to-face with you, Paraquat's dimly-lit halls following woods down roads of heartache ("Loved that girl, but knew we wouldn't work like Harden on the Rockets"), identity ("In DC they called me New York, I didn't correct it") and political allegory ("Whitey hit Hiroshima, then he doubled back / Black rain baptized, black skies / I'm always waiting on the thunderclap") that give greater insight into woods' internal workings without showing you how it all functions in one go. Church, despite its brief 37 minute runtime, unfolds strikingly slowly, patience and understanding rewarded with the same level of passion and gratification as any of his other projects. Hearing woods so stripped-back is an odd thing at first, but what it brings to the table is a level of radiance and expansion his emotional moments have never been treated to until now. There've always been undercurrents of trauma and mental hardship in his work, but it's always been put into the context of a broader idea: the dupes of capitalism, African identity, imperialism and revolution. Here, those ideas are slid underneath naked accounts of love and loss, Schism memorializing grief and artistic security as he flashes back to leaving a woman's sorrow out of his raps yet needing his music as a space of creative safety ("The shit I wrote, can't do it on a phone / ...The sadness in her eyes, I left it off the page") and Artichoke finding a similar kind of reminiscence as he drifts back into childhood ("It's certain things you can only learn from a fist fight / I used to use a toothbrush to keep my kicks white, it mattered that much") and then connects it to contemporary tensions between the long-standing harshness of hip-hop culture and its relation to LGBT communities, woods still aware of his music's inextricable connection to sociopolitical issues but emphasizing his personal intersections with them rather than the inverse. Detailed as ever, Church's fragmented framework of emotions and the real-world events that compound them helps to support what his previous album perfected, a companion piece for Aethiopes that explores what comes to the individual alongside widespread societal struggles. Desire and connection have never sounded so fundamentally to woods' music like it does here: even as he pricks the same veins as his previous projects, there's something infinitely more tender about hearing him remember where each chip bag was in the hospital vending machine or the innate discomfort of visiting his cousin's tumultuous home, opening up more directly than ever before and letting his emotions guide him in a way that's incredibly unguarded yet wholly confident. His skill as a rapper and storyteller will always hold his music high, Church an opportunity for him to try something new after a string of conceptually ambitious and technically marvelous projects. billy woods isn't trying anything too out of the ordinary, but he doesn't have to: the power of his words on top of rock-solid beats is more than enough to make every moment land with conviction and unending empathy.
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Chill Vibes - Hip Hop RnB Relax - Drumless - 1 Hour Playlist
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xhuzkabeats-blog · 2 months
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slow-slim-smile-slow · 4 months
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Vidas ahogándose en una lata abierta!
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haveyouheardthisband · 2 months
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oldestsoul · 1 year
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mariuccia · 5 months
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crocl0ver420 · 5 months
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amongthefallingstar · 6 months
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😩😩😩
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luuurien · 2 years
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Roc Marciano & The Alchemist - The Elephant Man’s Bones
(Gangsta Rap, Jazz Rap, Ambient Rap)
Atop The Alchemist's minimal, sinister beats, Roc Marciano indulges in some of the most tense and humorous music he's put out to date. The Elephant Man's Bones' juxtaposition of calm production and ruthless, cold-hearted bars from Marciano make for one wonderfully dark and luxurious listen.
☆☆☆☆
Named after the Englishman Joseph Merrick, the man who inspired the title of Roc Marciano and The Alchemist's latest album perfectly embodies the duo's artsy, nefarious songcraft. Known as the Elephant Man as a result of some painful, severe physical deformities, he spent his 27 years being both mocked and revered by the public as a biological anomaly, his life explored in a myriad number of books, films, and stage plays - at one point, it was reported that Michael Jackson was so moved by Merrick's life story that he allegedly offered $500,000, later a full million, to purchase his skeleton from the Royal London Hospital. Marciano and The Alchemist share a similar fascination in the lines between disturbing and elegant, The Elephant Man's Bones mixing Marciano's tales of street violence, drug-running and expensive couture with beats that are restrained, colorful, and organic. Far away from Marciano's traditionally cold, heavy sound, The Alchemist's smooth and slightly off-kilter production pushing Marciano into new territory that shapes his rapping and presence to be stronger than it's been in years, The Elephant Man's Bones breathing new life into his skillful, deadpan bars. The Alchemist is an unexpectedly great fit for Marciano, his recent production for albums like Armand Hammer's Haram or Conway the Machine's God Don't Make Mistakes translating perfectly to Marciano's cold-blooded presence as he turns his production inside-out, emphasizing clean samples and rich keyboards that are as elegant as they are menacing. I honestly haven't enjoyed The Alchemist's production as much as I do here in a long while - I never was the biggest fan of how his beats landed with Freddie Gibbs on 2020's Alfredo, and his one-off beats on albums this year like SICK! and Crocodrillo Turbo were some of my least favorite of those projects - but there's a comfort and effortlessness to his work with Marciano that takes things to a level of luxury and richness he hasn't approached until now: the way opening track Rubber Hand Grip blends smoky keyboards with sharp, anxious string drones that immediately set the albums tone; the heavenly sample on the title track or the dusty loop driving JJ Flash forward. Not one of The Elephant Man's Bones' beats disappoints, all contributing to the album's mix of left-field lounge jazz warmth and cold-hearted lyrics that make it such an ominous, satisfying listen. And Marciano's bars are stronger than they've ever been, a clarity and cleverness to his writing that seamlessly integrates into some of his most villainous and menacing stories to date. Daddy Kane references everything from Breaking Bad to Olympic gymnast Suni Lee and Jimi Hendrix, and somehow ties it all together as Marciano contemplates his success over a fuzzy electronic drum loop and vintage synths, and the narcotized beat Alchemist throws onto Liquid Coke is fit just right for him to both throw out some of his signature blunt threats ("Don't make me dig in my bag, the magnum ain't gift-wrapped / ...It's not a catch twenty-two, this a TEC-22") and reflect on the ways he's been affected by that same criminal violence a few lines later ("Expensive clothes won't soothe / All this ice won't remove my bruise"). It seems linking with The Alchemist for a longer project has got Marciano less bottled up than usual, the rowdy sound of their one-off's together traded in for a methodical and detailed approach to their songcraft, quotables scattered all about the album's fourteen tracks - some of my favorites being "For me to line you, don't need a barber's license" from Deja Vu and his clever wordplay in the second verse of Trillion Cut ("These ain't no regular old bars, this a five star restaurant") - without Marciano ever being in your face about it, his assuredness in his rapping abilities and lyrical wit paying off immensely as him and The Alchemist sustain the album's sensitive mood across the entire 38 minutes. Keeping an album with as minimalist and left-of-center a sound for artsy East Coast rap as The Elephant Man's Bones' this enjoyable all the way through is quite the challenge, and they do it with endless charisma and personality. Two of rap's veteran players, Marciano and The Alchemist have been at it long enough to know the best parts of their music and how to tap into them time and time again. Working with one another, they exercise those strongest muscles with support from one another that champions their ability to pull you into their world and have you hang onto every word, Marciano's voice and The Alchemist's moody beats the only two things needed for The Elephant Man's Bones to keep its winning streak alive the whole way through - even the few bumps in the road aren't all that bad in the slightest. Marciano is a specialty performer, with a single voice and refined style he bends around any beat The Alchemist throws at him, and The Elephant Man's Bones' reliance on the fact that the two of them work so good together doesn't ever cause the album to stagnate as they consistently find new angles for Marciano's voice to wrap around The Alchemist's fuzzy, whiskey-scented beats. This is genuinely some of the smoothest, loveliest hip-hop I've heard in a good while, the duo rarely missing any of their shots and delivering a killer collection of colorful, delightfully subtle rap songs that never take more than they need and still land deadly blows with just a few bullets in the chamber. The Elephant Man's Bones is unlike anything either of them have done up until now, but it sounds as if they've been honing their craft together for a lifetime - how special is that?
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Drumless HipHop Rap ChillHop Lofi 1 hour Playlist Relaxing
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