I don’t have a Tours de Force section or a Charisma section or a Cheekbones section so I filed this under Soul for now.
Got my annual Yosemite sunburn and my armfuls of records at Going Underground and Tower District! Thanks, guys!
Pandemic birthday, year 2! I was able to do some real-life, in-person, brick-and-mortar digging (!!), and while last year’s vinyl-themed birthday sweet treat can never be topped (THE TECHNICS BIRTHDAY CAKE, remember??), this year’s donuts crafted to look like lil 45s are super damn cute. I got some HGs (Moodymann! Rosetta Hightower! Gus Poole!), that new Benny the Butcher, that new-ish Madlib, went through a liter of hand sanitizer, and hit up every LA spot except the ones only open Sat-Sun (High Fidelity, Gimme Gimme), the ones I was too lazy to head into downtown for (The Last Bookstore), or the south bay for (Soundsations, PM Sounds), or the one that would empty out my checking account (As the Record Turns DAMN YOU, KEVIN). Then I came home and sat my ass down and did a photo shoot that was supposed to be for my OnlyFans but I decided that was selfish and cruel so here you go.
I’m dope on the floor and I’m magic on the mic. The single biggest tragedy of the ’90s was “Cab Fare” being left off ’93 ‘Til Infinity, the end.
Also receiving votes: Chris Webber’s non-timeout, Columbine, OutKast getting BOOED (?????!!??) at the ’95 Source awards, and this album title’s complete disregard of the rules of comma usage. Shoulda been Please, Hammer, Don’t Hurt ‘Em.
I’m confident I’ll get grilled BBQ’d and roasted for this cover cosplay choice, but c’mon. Not everything needs to be DOOM or Kendrick or Jay Electronica or GZA, guys. Let’s dance!
“Both hands clusty” doesn’t apply to me. “Chop the O, sprinkle a little snow inside a Optimo” really has nothing to do with my life. “Catch me at the flicks, Apollo rap Frederick Douglass,” no. Of all the statements on this album, honestly it’s gotta be “Catch me in the corner not speaking” that really and truly speaks to me.