Tag Archives: kendrick lamar

Album of the Week: “Section.80” by Kendrick Lamar

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Daniel’s Thought

There was a manuscript I wrote to a friend about four months ago that documented Kendrick Lamar and how Section.80 is his superior record. Much to the chagrin of those good kid, m.A.A.d. city reps–and let’s be honest, it’s a near flawless record–I wanted to compare the two records on two characteristics: concept and writing. While gkmc weaves unmistakable perfection with regards to storytelling, fueled intensely by production that’s just as poetic as the lyrics K-Dot so effortless swings, Section.80 is the arc where we as outsiders can see where gkmc got all of its swag. This isn’t to say that gkmc isn’t original, but it’s very clear that the record is an evolved form of its counterpart. Where do you think Kobe Bryant learned his patented fadeaway? Why Michael Jordan of course. Basketball analogies aside, looking at Kendrick’s two powerful albums–although let’s not forget Overly Dedicated stands the test of time as well–good kid, m.A.A.d. city sits on the conceptual throne of storytelling, but there’s no denying that Kendrick took that from Section.80, a record that offers the best writing in his repertoire.

On “Ronald Reagan Era,” a track that paints the setting of Compton after the 80s crack epidemic, we can see Kendrick lather his lines with free expression that lacked in spots on gkmc. Because conceptual themes can sometimes limit what comes out on a page, the writing of gkmc doesn’t see ALL of Kendrick Lamar. On the flipside, what Section.80 lacks in a clear-cut thematic skeleton, it more than makes up for it in the writing. In the first verse we see K-Dot curve his metaphors to a T, without sacrificing detail and imagery:

“You ain’t heard nothin’ harder since Daddy Kane/ Take it in vain Vicodins couldn’t ease the pain/ Lightning bolts hit your body, you thought it rained/ Not a cloud in sight, just the shit that I write/ Strong enough to stand in front of a travellin’ freight train, are you trained?”

Towards the lower torso of the song, Kendrick continues with this delivery, more so now reflecting the song’s overall theme with the same interwoven writing style he presents in the first verse:

“I’m driving on E with no license or registration/ Heart racin’, racin’ past Johnny because he’s racist/ 1987, the children of Ronald Reagan/ Raked the leaves off your front porch with a machine blowtorch/ He blowin’ on stress, hopin’ to ease the stress/ He copping some blow, hopin’ that it can stretch.”

Over a calming beat that lays out to feature the lyricism, “Keisha’s Song (Her Pain),” is a difficult narrative that comments on prostitution, the women behind the industry, and the damage it does to these women. More than anything, “Keisha’s Song (Her Pain)” helps show why people have to do such things: “And Lord knows she’s beautiful/ Lord knows the usuals, leaving her body sore/ She take little change she make to fix her nail cuticles/ Lipstick is suitable to make you fiend for more/ She play Mr. Shakur, that’s her favorite rapper/ Bumping “Brenda’s Got a Baby” while a pervert yelling at her/ And she capture features of a woman, but only 17/ The 7 cars start honking, she start running like Flo-Jo/ Don’t care if they Joe Blow/ If they got money to blow a blow job is a sure go/ And sure enough don’t see a dime of dirty dollars/ She give all to her daddy but she don’t know her father, that’s ironic.”

While Section.80 follows the story of Keisha and Tammy and the children of the 80s, its overarching themes of urban decay, the War on Drugs, death, the new-age Civil Rights Movement, and innocence lost dominate the record. Compared to gkmc, Section.80’s conceptual timeline isn’t quite as solid, but the writing is more commandeering, something that is important in the long run. Take Section.80 for a wider view of where Kendrick Lamar is coming from, and if you can see that, then you can appreciate everything that Section.80 has to offer and more.

Gus’ Thoughts

Over the past five years, Kendrick Lamar has been a front-runner in hip-hop. While the latest trends seemingly dominate the “mainstream,” the Compton native has created his own lane while still enjoying commercial success. The beats he rhymes over are banging, and he’s a superb storyteller. Amongst his contemporaries, few can match Kenrick’s mastery of the concept album. This is true of good kid, m.A.A.d city, his 2012 effort that truly put him on the map. We’re hearing this again on his two recent cuts, “i” and “The Blacker The Berry,” that seem to be leading up to a new record in 2015. With all of this in mind, revisiting his studio album debut, Section.80, reminds us where Kendrick was when he first came onto the scene and that his success is not a fluke.

Using the story of two girls, Keisha and Tammy, Section.80 is a vivid narrative that follows the life-arc of those born in the late 80’s, before the internet was readily available. Now those babies are twenty-somethings, engrossed in a technological world. Kendrick’s debut is not a celebration. Instead, Section.80 is a dark reflection on race, death, rape, drug abuse and being young. “A.D.H.D.” is about instant gratification and the use of prescription narcotics to get high. “Ronald Reagan Era” is about the lingering effects of the crack epidemic during the 80’s. “Kush & Corinthians” blurs the lines between morality and justice. The gut-wrenching “Keisha’s Song (Her Pain),” takes us into Keisha’s life as a prostitute, the sexual abuse she suffered as a young child and her untimely death. To close out the album is the undeniably powerful “HiiiPower,” that is fueled by the lasting influence of the Civil Rights Movement, and how millennials are making sense of it.

With production and guest appearances from Willie B, J. Cole, Terrace Martin, Wyldfyer, BJ The Chicago Kid, Ab-Soul and Schoolboy Q, Section.80 delivers musically as well as thematically. When an artist is topping the charts, it usually involves that artist giving up a certain amount of creative control. From the outside looking in, it seems as though Kendrick Lamar has yet to do that. This is definitely true of Section.80, an album with a powerful story and a lot to say. When you listen to a record such as Section.80, it’s very hard to be surprised at any of the success Kendrick Lamar has enjoyed over his career thus far.

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The Gospel of King Kendrick Lamar

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photo credit: karencivil.com

By: Justin Cook

Kendrick Lamar’s presence speaks for itself. The man is a poetic, and artistic, genius. No one else in this current formation of the universe has bars like Lamar. For a lot of hip-hop heads, he is the best emcee that has graced the mic in a long ass time; some even go as far as calling him the “resurrection of Tupac” or the “savior of hip-hop.” It’s like he’s on some Jesus-level shit, or a secret Super Saiyan, or possibly The One who will rescue us from The Matrix. I really don’t think anyone else could get away with having such an otherworldly, almost godlike, reputation. Kendrick is that dude. And in all honesty, he deserves it. The man has been laying down solid tracks since day one, when he still went under his original moniker, K-Dot. Now, I don’t like to claim anyone to be the “greatest,” but without a doubt, Kendrick is sure to be one of the greats, and I will break down why in this week’s installment of “The Poetry Of Kendrick Lamar.”

“Fuck Your Ethnicity” [Section.80]

This was the first song I heard by Kendrick Lamar, and still stands as one of my absolute favorites. The beat, the lyrics, and Kendrick’s peculiar flow: all a testament to the man’s wizardry with words. The opening lines always send a shiver down my spine: “Fire burning inside my eyes, this the music that save my life/ Ya’ll be calling it hip-hop, I be calling it hypnotize.” From that point forward, I’m straight hypnotized, rocking to the beat, awaiting the next sequence of powerful imagery. The way Kendrick moves from line to line through metaphor and double-speak is quite brilliant:

“My details be retail, man I got so much in store/ Racism is still alive, yellow tape and colored lines/ Fuck that, nigga look at that line, it’s so diverse/ They getting off work and they wanna see Kendrick/ Everybody can’t drive Benz’s and I been there/ So I make it my business to give’em my full attention, ten-hut!”

These bars are proof that Kendrick is “kicking that math, dropping that science like an alchemist.” They’re pure gold, shining like an angel. Good God Kendrick Lamar! This “business” is the scripture. I love how he flips “yellow tape and colored lines,” referring to crime, violence, and racial boundaries, with “look at that line, it’s so diverse,” referring to the people lining up to see Kendrick live; these folks break the “yellow tape and colored lines” and come together through the power of hip-hop. And as Kendrick has thoroughly “detailed” in this song, he’s about the give the people his full love and attention. Hallelujah!

“Faith” [Kendrick Lamar EP]

This song is just real as fuck, simple as that. It doesn’t use any elaborate metaphors or word play to impress the listener. It simply speaks universal truths of the human experience: struggle, death, temptation, and the power of faith. At its core, this song is all about maintaining in the face of adversity. Kendrick highlights his own struggles of gaining faith despite being “a person that never believed in religion,” but also extends out into a wider narrative: the struggle of black oppression. This oppression is intimately described in the second verse, which begins “Single black parent from Compton raising children of 4/ That’s 4 innocent bastards cause Papa they don’t know.” I love the way Kendrick blends his narrative seamlessly with the narrative of his people, or in other words, using his own experiences to speak about greater social and economic struggles. We need more of this in not only the hip-hop community, but also in the greater reality of humankind. This song is truly a beautiful piece of poetry that reminds us “the next time you feel like your world’s about to end/ I hope you studied because He’s testing your faith again.

“Cartoon & Cereal”

The whole aesthetic of this song is unreal. It’s so menacing, dark, and bleak—the feeling of a tortured existence. This aesthetic in and of itself speaks volumes. The track, aptly named “Cartoon & Cereal,” details Kendrick’s paradoxical childhood in Compton: “Now I was raised in a sandbox, next to you and her/ You was holding the handgun, she was giving birth.” Just those opening lines display the lyrical mastery of Kendrick Lamar. This “sandbox” comes to represent the whole of Compton, a small section of L.A. where life expectancy for young men is quite young, due to gang violence, lack of resources, drug addiction, and systematic oppression. These men never quite grow up, or grow out of this oppression, leaving them as children trapped in a metaphorical “sandbox.” The next line referring to the “handgun” and “giving birth” represents the vicious cycle that perpetuates this oppression. The handgun symbolisms the absent father, who is presumably out gangbanging instead of watching his child being born; the fact that it is a “handgun” invokes the idea that this violence is “handed” down from father to son, a reoccurring theme throughout the song. On the other hand, literally, we see a mother giving birth. The concept of birth, which gives life through spilling blood, juxtaposed with the notion of systemic violence, reinforces the issue that black bodies are born INTO a cycle of oppression, which they themselves did not create. Rather, it is a creation of the State and perpetuated by social institutions such as prisons, media outlets, and government. As Kendrick comments, cartoons and cereal represent unhealthy food and mindless entertainment; these are the new “Opiates of the Masses” that allow us to be continually controlled by the powers at be.

“Holy Ghost (Remix) [Ft. Kendrick Lamar]”

I’m not a big fan of Young Jeezy, but I had to include this jam on my list. Kendrick snaps on this shit right here. Similar to the menacing vibe we find on “Cartoon & Cereal,” this remix again shows us Kendrick’s dark side. At first listen, this may seem like another rap song glorifying sex, money, and drugs, but it is actually the exact opposite. To me, it reads more like the struggle of maintaining your faith and positivity while living in a Capitalist world full of temptation: the Lexus, Rolexes, sexting, and beaucoup bucks. It’s a song where we can see Kendrick expressing his anger and frustration in being a hip-hop superstar and role model. It’s a side we rarely see of Kendrick, but one I believe is just as honest, and important, as his positive side.

I also highlighted this track for its use of sound and intricate structure. First off, the assonance and alliteration carry this verse through. It’s almost unreal how slippery the sounds are: “Tee-Tee and Tiana sexting/ Teepees and mansions I rest in/ Two T’s and Top Dawg impress with/ TV’s that play their investment…” That shit is wild. It’s so damn smooth, almost like driving in the back of a Rolls Royce Phantom Ghost. On top of all that, the whole verse is syncopated the exact same way; it’s straight mathematical. To carry the same flow throughout sixteen bars is harder than it may seem. On top of that, there are four lyrical “breaks” in Kendrick’s flow, signifying the next onslaught of poetic genius, all end with the same rhyme: burn, turn, vrrrrrm, learn. Most emcees can’t even come close to this kind of artistry and attention to detail, further proof of Kendrick’s lyrical mastery.

“Poe Man’s Dreams (His Vice)” [Section.80]

“Smoke good, eat good, live good. Smoke good, eat good, live good…”

This is the jam. A song you can just chill out and vibe to. After a long day of stressing, this is the track I can rely on to level me out. Again, it’s Kendrick spitting some wisdom, and he’s not being flashy about it: “I know some rappers using big words to make their similes curve/ My simple as shit be more pivotal.” Just sit back and listen. Plus, GLC’s verse on the outro is crazy. This is the Gospel. Cathedral!

“Sing About Me, I’m Dying of Thirst” [Good Kid, M.A.A.D. City]

This is hands down my favorite song by Kendrick Lamar. Actually, it’s one of my favorite songs of all time. It’s a masterpiece. It’s so raw. I could listen to it over and over again, all day, everyday. Within the narrative of Good Kid M.A.A.D. City, this song serves as an important, and intimate, moment. In each verse, Kendrick embodies a different voice—the third being his own—which shed light on the harsh realities of living in Compton. It’s just a beautiful song, spilling with great line after great line. And that beat! It’s so damn smooth. Plus, I love how the beat parallels the narrative, adding another layer of poetics. For example, the gunshots at the end of the first verse, which kills the speaker who can’t fully express what he “hopes” for, always tugs at my emotions; or, at the end of the second verse when the vocals fade away, despite the speaker who insists, she will never fade away. That shit is hard and gives this whole song another dimension of artistry. Plus, it seamlessly transitions into “I’m Dying of Thirst,” which illustrates the struggle of material vs. spiritual gain. Time to hop in that water and pray that it works.

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Album of the Week: “You’re Dead!” by Flying Lotus

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Daniel’s Thoughts

Flying Lotus is now six studio albums deep–one of them was his Captain Murphy project Duality–and the first thing that comes to mind is where You’re Dead! stacks up against the rest. Almost incomparable are Los Angeles and Cosmogramma, near flawless works of art that are drowned in reckless counts of harp strings, manic synthetic rushes and liberating progressions of artsy jazz-hop. Somewhere swelling underneath these works stands You’re Dead!, perhaps FlyLo’s most exotic work, and definitely the most guest-heavy.

Penetrating deep into the stereo, You’re Dead! leads with quick-hitting intro tracks that paint a rushing mural of jazz highlights and rapid snare licks, where just the sound of each note feels like it’s living and breathing inside of the listener’s head. There’s “Turkey Dog Coma,” a song that sprints from the very get-go under anxious drum scats and Thundercat’s rumbling bass. “Ready err Not” on the other hand slows down, playing soundtrack to an imaginary video game that takes place in a dark creepy castle. And then there’s the Kendrick Lamar feature called “Never Catch Me.” You’d be hard-pressed to find another MC that can effortlessly spit over a FlyLo beat, but K-Dot is one of them. “Ain’t no blood pumpin’ no fear,” Lamar spits over a rushing trip beat and a flowing piano melody. “I got hope inside of my bones.”

You’re Dead!, like all of Flying Lotus’ records, paints this impossible picture of hip-hop, jazz, trip-hop, rock, electro, and blues intertwining in a cauldron of goodness. It’s a steady improvement over Until the Quiet Comes, with full-fledged themes constructed over the entire piece, and throughout you’ll get hints of Cosmogramma, Los Angeles and 1983 hiding like Waldo on the beach. If you want an “Album of the Year” candidate, look no further.

Gus’ Thoughts

Sometimes I think about dying, or rather, if anything happens after death. I don’t necessarily mean in a religious sense, although that’s part of it. Generally, it’s more about the mind. Where do people’s thoughts go? Do we actually just cease to exist? Surely there must be something following what we, in society, refer to as death. Considering this, Flying Lotus’ new record, You’re Dead!, may just be the musical manifestation to some of these ideas. Released on October 7th, 2014, You’re Dead! is a frantic, yet clearly intentional, compilation of hard-hitting beats, jazz melodies and rhymes that is driven by these thoughts. In some ways, the music is much like the Lotus we all know and love. However, as opposed to some of his other albums, which are packed to the brim with off-kilter percussion and spaced out synth, You’re Dead! is propelled by a very specific concept.

The beginning of the album has the feel of a long intro as the first four tracks, “Theme,” “Tesla,” “Cold Dead” and “Fkn Dead,” flow into each other, picking up speed and intensity with heavy guitars, bright keyboard notes and vivid saxophone. Just as we reach what seems to be a climax of sorts, piano cuts in and “Never Catch Me” begins. Easily one of the best songs of 2014, “Never Catch Me” features Kendrick Lamar, whose words add to the concept. Featuring Snoop Dogg on “Dead Man’s Tetris” and Flying Lotus rapping as Captain Murphy, the lyrics on these tracks push the theme forward. However, as one should expect from a Flying Lotus record, the music dominates the canvas in the best way.

With help from the piano man himself, Herbie Hancock, Thundercat on bass and soundtrack specialist Ennio Morricone, You’re Dead! is an on-point combination of more aggressive styles of jazz that fit perfectly with hand claps, syncopated kick drums, fast-moving horn and bass lines. With his sixth studio album, Flying Lotus has delivered a wonderfully furious combination of musical styles that moves together seamlessly, creating a journey through space, time and what the afterlife might just sound like.

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Album Review: “Oxymoron” by Schoolboy Q

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Pete Havlatka 

Since the beginning of hip-hop music, rappers have stepped into the arena with their respective crews. Before Dr. Dre came N.W.A. Before Busta Rhymes took over the world, Leaders of the New School did its damn thing. *NSYNC had millions of girls screaming at them on stage, but only Justin Timberlake rose to equal—or perhaps greater—fame as a solo artist. Counting all of music as a whole, Stevie Nicks, who apparently is a woman, rode dirty with Fleetwood Mac for years before amassing eight—count ‘em, EIGHT—Grammy nominations after she set off on her own. Freddie Mercury was THE GREATEST before he died of AIDS. I may have already gotten off-track, but my point is that when a member of a group or collective goes solo, typically that first member to go solo is the most successful. That’s why Dr. Dre has his own line of headphones, while Eazy E is… oh, shit—he died of AIDS, too? Damn!

Anyway, in this case we have Top Dawg Entertainment, starring its undisputed ring leader, Kendrick Lamar, who – in my opinion – is one of the few MCs in history who can be so highly esteemed without being even remotely overrated. The man spits blazing unicorn cocks out of his mouth when he raps. Yes, that’s a good thing, and yes, he’s that good. Deal with it.

Also in the TDE stable are MCs Ab-Soul, Jay Rock and the focus of this piece, Schoolboy Q.  All are talented, sure—otherwise they wouldn’t likely be part of the Black Hippie tribe at all—but the reason they didn’t bat lead-off for their team is, presumably, because Kendrick Lamar is better, which isn’t hard to fathom because of the aforementioned unicorn cocks. Still, after K-Dot, Schoolboy Q is next up to bat with the newly released Oxymoron, and he certainly doesn’t disappoint.

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Exploring The Minds of Hip-Hop: The Bonus Cut Fantasy Draft (Part Six)

via consequenceofsound.net

via consequenceofsound.net

By: Harry Jadun with help from the Bonus Cut staff

Click here for part one.
Click here for part two.
Click here for part three.
Click here for part four.
Click here for part five. 

Fantasy sports has taken off. Due to the rise in technology and the internet, fantasy sports has not only become unbelievably popular in the United States, but also all around the world. Here at Bonus Cut, we have decided that we would take the concept of fantasy sports and apply it to hip-hop music. Instead of drafting wideouts and running backs, we’ve drafted some of our favorite MC’s and beat makers. The big winner in this situation is you. Not only do we introduce you to some of our favorite hip-hop artists and explain why they are relevant in hip-hop culture, we’ve also laced the Draft with dope tracks for your audio pleasure. With this draft, our goal is to pay tribute to some our favorite hip-hop artists and acknowledge the influence they have had on our lives.

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Creativity Breaking Into Mainstream Hip-Hop: How to Become a Superstar

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By: Uba Anyadiegwu

Many music listeners are getting tired of typical mainstream artists these days: artists who aren’t very skilled, but broke into the mainstream for their radio friendly or club material music. Artists such as Tyga, Flo Rida, and even the lackluster Big Sean come to mind. Everyone can rap but what makes you stand out? Is it your look? Persona? Swag? In some cases, it is! Ask 2 Chainz, because his music and material isn’t different but his whole persona and his name alone are reasons why he’s different. Nonetheless, artists such as 2 Chainz are more of fads and do not have longevity in their music careers. This is mainly because his music is cool and funny now, but after a while, people will start to get annoyed from it. For instance, look where Soulja Boy’s career went.. Yeah I cant find it either. The only way to create longevity in a mainstream artist’s career is to have a signature, creative sound; an artist’s rapping delivery and beat selection are major contributions to their sound. Hip-hop has been going through an experimental movement, where many of the most popular hip-hop artists don’t necessarily have that ‘traditional’ hip hop sound. This kind of sound refers to the sound where hip-hop originated from. A traditional hip-hop sound has a very jazzy and R&B sample influence feel with insightful lyrics. A great example of an album that follows this sound would be Kanye West’s College Dropout. However, artists such as Drake, Kendrick Lamar, A$AP Rocky and Chance The Rapper are a few examples of where hip-hop as a collaborative sound in the mainstream is headed towards.

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The Starting Five: 9/11/13

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Every week, Daniel and Gus pick five songs to share called The Starting Five. This week, they’re personally sharing these tracks as a feature.

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A Bonus Cut Feature: An Interview With Detroit Rapper Red Pill (Part Two)

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Chris Orrick (aka Red Pill) of BLAT! Pack is a rapper from Detroit, Michigan who is emerging as a positive voice in hip-hop. Pill’s delivery is both sophisticated and to-the-point as it treads on parallels to the likes of Blu and Atmosphere. Red Pill’s releases Please Tip Your Driver and The Kick (with Hir-O) helped formulate a monstrous repertoire, and his recent project with Apollo Brown and Verbal Kent called Ugly Heroeshas further backed his immaculate career in hip-hop. In a day and age where people are still struggling to find consistent artists in an ever-expanding culture, Red Pill brings content that hip-hop truly needs.

Red Pill recently sat down with Bonus Cut to discuss issues within hip-hop, the art of writing, his influences, South by Southwest (SXSW), the status of hip-hop today and his Ugly Heroes project.

Part one can be viewed here.

(Excerpts taken from an interview with Chris Orrick on June 3rd, 2013…)

Bonus Cut (BC): How do you view MCing? What does it take to be an MC?

Red Pill (RP): For me it’s just being yourself. The cover is so big now. You got every different kind of person in the world writing or trying to be a rapper and it’s being reflected in who’s actually making it. So you have Mac Miller’s and Schoolboy Q’s and they’re hanging out together. I don’t really listen to Mac Miller, but there’s a place for it because everyone comes from different places and hip-hop is so wide-reaching. I don’t know what it means to be an MC or rapper anymore, in fact I think that idea (has been) sort of overdone for a long time. In my stalling last night of the show somebody was like “freestyle” and I don’t freestyle. My writing all started as this loser kid in his bedroom writing. I wasn’t banging on tables in the lunchroom and hanging out and rapping; none of my friends rapped. I was the only one that rapped, so I wasn’t doing all that shit. So I don’t freestyle. And there are probably some older people and some younger people too that would say, “if you can’t freestyle then you’re not an MC.” To me I don’t understand, you put definitions on something like that and it doesn’t matter. To me I’m more interested in songwriting. I love when rappers are sweet at the skill of rapping. I try to do that sometimes and I pride myself at attempting to do that and hopefully be good at that. At the same time, if you say shit that doesn’t relate to me, then I don’t care. Some people just like hearing rappers be sweet at rapping. For me I’m going to put on something that feels real to me, that connects with my life, something personal and that doesn’t even have to be deep and heartfelt, it can be anything relating to your life. Writing can be anything.

BC: Who are some of those artists that you find relatable?

RP: In terms of hip-hop, the rappers that I’ve found the most relatable to me have been Blu. I mean, I grew up watching Atmosphere and Rhymesayers and what they did. Kendrick to me is another guy that came up. If I had to pick my favorites: Blu, older Atmosphere, Kendrick, Ab-Soul. Outside of hip-hop I’m into this band right now called Andrew Jackson Jihad, they’re like a folk-punk band from the Southwest. Dude’s writing is some of the best Americana folk writing I’ve ever heard. It speaks to this generation. It’s something that to me, I’m trying to steal whatever I can from him and put that into my music. He’s a genius for how he’s writing, and it goes back to this: are you saying something that I can feel? I don’t care what it is. I mean, he has songs that talk about what people get off on, and I think the chorus is “whatever gets your dick hard” or something like that, and it’s funny and it relates to me, because there are a lot of people like that. So it’s funny, it’s relatable, and shit like that is important to me, and that’s what I’m trying to do with my newer writing. The seriousness of my writing has always been what I’ve done, but I want to put a new feel on it. I want to have something that more describes who I am. Cause it’s not like I’m this guy in this dark cellar angry, writing, drinking and dying. Sometimes it’s like that. But for the most part I have a different side of my personality that I don’t let into my music and I don’t know why, but it has to come out and for the next full-length solo shit I do I’ll try to find a way to be more relatable by showing off me as a whole verses just me as a serious therapeutic writer.

BC: What about names. Bonus Cut was recently at Philthy’s show where he officially transitioned from Philthy to James. So what’s in a name?

RP: As far as me, if I had a cooler name, if my actual name was cooler, maybe I would go by my real name, but it’s Chris Orrick, it’s like Scottish and it’s just not a cool name. To me there’s nothing in a name I don’t think. I mean you can have people that have cool names and make up these cool names and I thought about dropping Red Pill, but it’s already done, it’s there, that’s what I’m going to be now and it’s fine. I don’t think there’s much in a name. I picked my name, which is from The Matrix obviously, because I was making sure I wasn’t just falling into the system and that’s a lot of what I do with music. I don’t want to be this human zombie that does the same thing with the rest of his life, and that’s fine I mean a lot of people are content with that, and that’s awesome, some people are happy with that pretty standard life, and there’s a part of me that wants part of that too, but I can’t imagine doing a 9 to 5 forever. That’s like the worst thought in the world to me. So I wanted my name to represent staying out of The Matrix, getting out of this whole thing it’s created. Looking back on it, it doesn’t even matter and that’s what I’m saying, there’s nothing in a name. I was probably 18 when I named that name. So I don’t care now, I mean I do and I have this name and I’m going to have to stay with it forever now, but it’s nothing. What I will say about a lot of rappers in general now is a lot of people are going back to just using their name and I think that’s telling of, especially in hip-hop, just being you and completely saying, in Philthy’s case, “I’m James Gardin” and J Young “I’m Jahshua Smith” and stripping that whole stage show mentality. You can’t do that anymore. You have twitter. You have facebook. There’s no allure about artists anymore. We know where they are all the time. You can’t sit and think I wonder what Jay-Z’s doing right now because he just tweeted it, so you know where people are, you know what they’re like and it’s not this big grand stage anymore of entertainers, it’s these people that are real life people that we can see and find any information about them at any point and so I think that might be something to do with it.

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BC: How does Blat! PACK work exactly?

RP: It started as just a collective of artists in Lansing (Michigan). Initially it was only Lansing. Jahshua and James basically started it with Will Ketchum and everything about it was just to strengthen resources. You have this, I have this, let’s work together now we both have those things. It’s worked out. I think that part of what our success and what we’ve been able to do is based entirely on the fact that we’ve worked as a team for a long time. It goes through phases like any group of friends. Sometimes it’s stronger, sometimes you’re not even thinking about it to be honest. Some people have had ideas of it being a label in the future, and to me it’s just like: if we just help each other, I love all those guys they’re all my friends, we’ve expanded and included some people from Detroit, some people have moved away, so it’s like any group of friends and we just have a name. We wanted to work together and make sure that we looked out for each other and we could approach people with a title and it seemed like it was better and it puts the Blat! PACK logo on shit. It makes it just seem a little more professional. At this point it’s not heavily functioning as an entity that’s working together, we just tweet each other stuff and hang out. I was right in the middle of getting into it. I love all those guys, I’ve been friends with them for five years which is actually crazy to say. It’s helped us. We’ve been able to travel to South by Southwest (SXSW) three years in a row and do shows because of that, strictly because we’re able to all pull our resources together and say, “okay let’s rent a van.” There’s 12 of us we can pile into this van, it’s a horrible trip, it’s like the worst thing ever, but we can all get down there. We can go all-in on hotel rooms and when you pull resources even in that sense it helps. When you can split gas to drive to Chicago or Milwaukee and do a show that’s a huge help.

BC: So how was SXSW? How has it been?

RP: First year it was awesome. It was really good. The show that I did was not that great but it was cool because at that point it was the quality of the crowd. At that point Jake Pain (at the time the editor-in-chief of HipHopDX) who Will Ketchum knew came out to that show, and that’s how I was able to secure my HipHopDX Next feature which helped generate some good buzz for me. I got to meet him, I got to put a CD in his hand, we talked so I got to make an impression on him, and then I started getting my shit posted on that site, and it’s one of the biggest hip-hop sites in the world and it’s cool. The second year was a better show and I think it’s where Apollo Brown really backed me and solidified me doing the Ugly Heroes project. And then this year, a couple of months ago, was terrible. I had one show and no one was there, it got cut-off at the end, and all sorts of dumb shit happened. I rented a car and Hir-O just like smashed it into two cars in an alley. The worst part about what happened is that SXSW is this long party, there are plenty of shows you can go to, there’s free alcohol, there’s free food, and it’s awesome, but it’s not this independent artist thing anymore. Corporations have jumped on it really heavily. There was a Doritos stage this year. To me I’m not going back unless I have something major happening. From a fans perspective, if you can get the tickets, they’re expensive, it’s a great great time. I can’t justify spending money to go down there and not be able to get anything done. Everything’s very exclusive now. If you don’t pay the three or four hundred dollars for a damn ticket to be able to go to the shows and get a wristband it’s hard to get into things now. I was really turned off by the whole thing. The worst part for me really was that we’d get up early, try to get a whole bunch of work done, and then by 8 o’clock at night I’m dead tired, I’ve just worn myself out, so now I can’t even go party, I’m like too tired to go party and this is the worst thing ever. I felt like an old man getting to bed at like 10 o’clock in Austin, Texas.

BC: So where’s hip-hop right now?

RP: I think hip-hop is at a great place right now. There’s a ton of good shit out. I don’t stay on top of it enough honestly. I think you’ve got plenty of people doing good music. There’s an overall vibe that I’m feeling that is a changing tide to more personable and relatable and smart actual lyrics again. And not that I’m saying that this has been bad or that hip-hop sucked, I don’t believe in any of that either, I just think it’s good right now. For fans and artists that like smart hip-hop that’s saying something, I think that’s becoming trendy again. I think people want that again. It always has been what it is. It has its moments and music changes, music is always going to change, it’ll start to sound different again, it’ll continue to sound different and evolve and do different things, and you’re going to like certain eras better than others. That’s the same thing with rock, with anything. Hip-hop is old enough now that there’s the 80s, there’s the 90s, there’s the onslaught, so you can kind of pick what these things all sounded like and what you like more about every different part of it. And looking back on it you can kind of pick and choose who were the best acts of that time in hip-hop or what was special about that era. I think most people point to the 90s as the really big birth but to me that’s like talking about the classic rock era and the 60s, late 60s early 70s, where people look back to rock, and that doesn’t mean that rock just sucks or that there’s nothing good out in rock, it just means that maybe was a really interesting and innovative time in rock. And I think people are really going to look back on this era of hip-hop that people have been hating on the last five or six years as a very innovative era of underground hip-hop. I really think people are going to look back on this as a really interesting time in hip-hop where so many different influences were coming in. It wasn’t just a soul sample anymore, it wasn’t even just electronic shit, it was blending all that shit together and throwing influences in from indie rock, from punk, from everything. People are just experimenting like crazy with hip-hop right now and it’s awesome.

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