By Kyle Mantha

At this point, there’s not much to say about Kanye West that hasn’t already been said. There are no hot takes left for the man. His increasingly terrible political views, his dystopian fashion line, his genre-bending music, and his troublingly Machiavellian marketing tactics have all been the subject of public ire at one time or another. We’ve beaten the proverbial horse that is Kanye West’s public persona to death so many times that we’ve run out of room in the mass grave. Yet, we still come back for more.

For the past four weeks, Kanye has been releasing an album every Friday. Scratch that. G.O.O.D Music has been releasing a Kanye-produced album every Friday. It started with Pusha T’s incredible coke-scape “Daytona”, continued to rise with Kanye’s dreamy and uplifting solo effort “Ye”, reached a beckoning crescendo with Kanye and Kid Cudi’s psychedelic rap project “Kids See Ghosts”, and dropped to a slightly disappointing (but unsurprising) low with Nas’ conspiracy riddled jam session “Nasir”. Teyana Taylor’s album still looms in the distance, but her lack of a track record makes it hard to predict how the record will fare. So far, the albums have all been great. Some are better than others, but mostly, they’ve been enjoyable, at the very least. Kanye hasn’t lost his touch on the boards, and the rappers he has employed for these projects brought their A-game on every level. There were no apathetic and flaccid punk bangers from Cudi on “Kids See Ghosts”. Instead, we see the Cleveland rhyme-slinger/garage rock enthusiast in his finest form. On “‘Ye”, Kanye stripped back the egomania and celebrity worship that plagued his most recent efforts, instead focusing on self-reflection and finding peace in a restless world. Pusha T was his usual self on “Daytona”, and I mean that in the best way possible. So far, the only rapper who didn’t fully live up to expectations was one Nasir Jones. However, despite the popular online sentiment that Nas fell off, I have to say, there are more than a few points on “Nasir” where the Queens legend is in rare form, chopping rhymes and flows like shavings off of a brick of coke, spitting cadences like it’s still ‘94 and he’s hungry for that cheque. 

As fate would have it, these releases were preceded by a huge backlash against Kanye. We all know the story at this point. The dude’s political views are just absolutely garbage, in almost every sense of the word. His beliefs and opinions fit right in with Conservative wine moms, while somehow managing to veer into the territory of the alt-right’s radicalized basement dwellers. It’s 4Chan meets uninformed Neo-liberalism. Kanye praised both Candace Owens and Emma Gonzales in the same month, claiming he wants to bring both sides of the political spectrum together. However, Kanye’s beliefs don’t seem to be based in any sort of coherent reality. His praise for political figures on both the right and the left comes off as misguided at best, and downright stupid at worst. There’s nothing necessarily wrong with using a centrist approach to create unity, but any attempts at this can be nothing more than feeble, as tribalism has long since sown itself deep into the North American political discourse. In any case, attempting to bring both sides together is, in all honesty, a bad idea. It works in theory, but when one side of the political party line is attempting to strip certain American citizens of their rights, the only option is to fight. It’d be lovely if Kanye West could bring us all together with his idealistic talk of love and self-care, but that’s just not gonna happen.

Since unity across party lines is a seemingly impossible feat, it only makes sense that Kanye West would attempt to tackle it in the most surface-level way possible. When he was shut out of the fashion industry he clapped back by designing low-level Haider Ackerman rip-offs. Now that he’s being shut out of the political world, he promises to run for president, despite the fact that his political knowledge is no greater than that of a Trump supporter with a “Lock Her Up” bumper sticker.

By Harry Tafoya

If you didn’t know that footwork came from Chicago, you’d be forgiven for thinking it came from Mars. With its chopped samples, stuttering vocals, and rapid-fire beats, it is so unique in music it can be hard to place anywhere at all. But seen in motion it makes perfect sense. Type in “footwork dance battle” and watch how as the music starts feet speed into a blur, how arms propel bodies into hurricanes of knees and Jordans. For all of the genre's zig-zagging experimentalism, these videos make clear that before anything footwork answers dance music's call, the heart-stirring, ass-shaking urge to lose yourself on the floor.

But for a style of dance music influenced by rap, at a moment where Drake, J Balvin, and "The Black Panther" soundtrack have brought regional club sounds to the mainstream, footwork is very rarely rapped over. As a genre it presents a huge technical challenge, most hip-hop beats run from 80-115 BPM, whereas footwork runs at 160+ BPM. But aside from the speed, a rapper would still have to navigate the beats as nimbly as a footwork dancer, accounting for all of the weird left turns and breakdowns a producer maps onto a song. Kanye West's "Slow Jamz" succeeded by backgrounding its juke influence, the drums only really firing off in the down space between Jamie Foxx's crooning and Twista's breakneck rap. Danny Brown's "Dubby" was a better hybrid, footwork legends, DJ Spinn and DJ Rashad providing the perfect jazzy background for Brown's staccato vocals.

DJ Taye, the youngest member of Spinn and Rashad's Teklife collective has taken the challenge of marrying footwork and rap and gone further than anyone else. With songs like "In Da Trees," which puts Kendrick Lamar's "The Recipe" into hyper-drive and "Leanin'" which chops Taye's voice into a pounding techno track, he's proven himself an expert at braiding both production styles into wildly cohesive (and danceable) wholes.

On his debut album, "Still Trippin'" Taye brings bars to the mix. On "Trippin'" Taye raps about getting transcendentally high against a spiraling 8-bit synth that sounds like it was ripped from "Mario Kart's" Rainbow Road, before he brings it full circle - "I'm munchin' on shrooms/just like your favorite plumber". It's a moment that encapsulates what the whole record is about, supremely thoughtful effortless fun.

Lead single, "Get It Jukin'" hands the mic to Detroit rapper, Chuck Inglish for an even more daring song. Taye sets the stage for Inglish with Chicago-at-sunset synths and a skipping drumbeat that Inglish matches with a flexible flow. And then as the drum builds into a chorus, Taye blows it all up with a full footwork freakout, Inglish's voice digitizing like a malfunctioning robot while 808s pound around him.

"Gimme Some Mo" which features Jersey Club singer, UNIIQU3, pulls a similar trick, mangling her vocals into a throbbing footwork banger. If you're used to music driven by vocals, footwork can be a tough sell. One of its greatest strengths as a genre is its smash-and-grab approach to sound, the idea that if it makes a cool enough noise it could be used any way in the mix. And while there are plenty of straight-up rap songs like "Trippin'" and "Smokeout," there are just as many weirdo dance tracks ("Truu" is particularly odd) that would sound completely unlistenable to someone new to footwork.

By Kyle Mantha

It’s been three years since Pusha T released his album “Darkest Before Dawn.” The record was intended to be a prelude to his self-proclaimed magnum opus “King Push.” However, after years of push backs and empty promises, many fans began to think that “King Push” would get the Detox treatment. Thankfully, that wasn’t exactly the case.

Earlier this year, Kanye tweeted out that Pusha T’s album would be arriving on May 25th. He said that it was gonna be seven tracks long and entirely produced by Kanye himself. As the 25th approached, Push tweeted that the album title was changed to “DAYTONA”, because he felt that the name “King Push” wasn’t a good representation of the music. Later that same night, it was revealed the Kanye had paid 85k out of pocket for a photo of Whitney Houston’s drug-filled bathroom to be used as the album artwork.

Although many were skeptical, the album was released as planned. And it’s excellent.

The production, handled entirely by Kanye, is bombastic and grimy. The samples are dirty, and the drums punch through the mix like they’re trying to fight their way through the eclectic display of soulful chops. The track “The Games We Play” is an immediate standout, with a distorted guitar and horn sample being punctuated by a chopped up and repurposed drum break. The intro track, “If You Know You Know”, is another highlight, featuring a stuttering drone-synth sample that creates an eerie atmosphere over the entire track. The mix is a bit muddy on some tracks, although it’s hard to tell if that was an intentional artistic choice or a genuine misstep.

Lyrically, Push is at his absolute finest on this record. Lines like “feds taking pictures like it’s GQ, this Avianne collarbone is see through”, and “this is the drug money your ex-nigga claims he makes” are classic Pusha T. He also made waves by throwing shots at Drake on the closing track “Infrared”, stating: “It was written like Nas but it came from Quentin”, referencing Drake’s ghostwriting scandal where it was revealed that Atlanta rapper Quentin Miller had written a good chunk of Drake’s “If You’re Reading This” mixtape.

By Kyle Mantha

Kalel Xavier is ambitious. His musical output is diverse, ranging from sleepy introspective jams like “Einstein” to synthy bangers like “Guap.” The young artist has aspirations of inspiring like-minded kids, and creating music that will hit home for anyone who happens to be listening. I had the opportunity to talk to Kalel about his upbringing, his creative process, and the everlasting struggle of misogyny in hip hop. 

How did you get started in music?

I’ve always been around music because my dad is a huge music head. So is my older brother. It’s always been apart of me. My older brother made music and when I was younger he let me record a track. It just felt right when I was on the mic. Of course my first track wasn’t the best, but after I recorded that song music has always been something I wanted to do.

What kind of music did your dad play around the house when you were growing up? Did his tastes influence you at all?

My dad was all over the place with his music. From The Commodores and Minnie Ripperton to LL Cool J, Scarface, KRS One, Prince, Michael Jackson, New Edition, and Public Enemy. I could go on all day. But some of the music definitely affected me. I feel like music back during his time, and even before his time, was more real and relatable and that feeling they left with me is the feeling I try to leave with people who listen to me.

How do you go about adding that feeling to your music? What’s your creative process like in general?

It’s hard for me to describe my creative process. I kind of just play a beat, close my eyes, and listen to it. Then I’ll go: “Ok, the hook is here, the verse is here,” and I kind of let the beat guide me towards the topic of the song. Honestly, everything with me is a vibe. I get vibes from a beat and that’s how I formulate a song. For example, take Galactus. When I heard the beat, the vibe of it was like, make the song hype but real and let people see some of your vulnerable side too. You know, it’s not always about how much money you have or how many girls you’ve been with or what kind of car you drove. People want to see that human side of you too. It’s cool to flex and flodge sometimes but not all the time.

Who are some of your influences? Do you listen to a lot of modern stuff, or is it mostly older music?

My biggest influences are probably Kid Cudi, Big KRIT, Bob Marley, Kendrick Lamar, Isaiah Rashad, Michael Jackson, and Lauryn Hill. They all encourage me to try and be different with my music. I listen to a lot of old stuff because I only like some of the new music that’s coming out now. I listen to a lot of older hip hop and older R&B/soul music. I’m pretty diverse though. The only genre I’m not really into is opera because I’m not old enough to appreciate it yet.

You’ve got two mixtapes titled “Einstein”. What’s the concept there? What inspired you to name the tapes after him?

Einstein is a just an influence for me because he was so smart and so open minded and always trying to find new ways to do something. Einstein was ahead of his time and innovative and I like to see my music as that. The concept is I’m trying to let you into my mind for an album so you can see where my head is at. I’ve been told my music represents what’s been on my mind and people can tell when I’m going through something. But to be completely [honest] there isn’t really a valid reason. I just look up to Einstein and wanted to name a tape after him… twice.

Photos by @nabhenduio on Twitter

Can you tell me a bit about Jupiter Gang?

So, Jupiter Gang is a collective that consists of close friends of mine. There’s myself, Crimson Babes, Nabhendu, and AKA Great Saiya. Honestly, we’re just a group of friends that like making music. We’re all about spreading good vibes and making good music. Trying to give people a break from popping pills and shaming women all the time.

Do you feel like there’s a lot of misogyny in hip hop? Is that something you try and avoid in your music?

Yeah, there is most definitely a lot of sexism and it’s something I’ve been trying to avoid recently. Like, I talk about women and I admit it’s not always the most respectful context because sometimes the art form is gonna be raw and I might say something that is offensive. But I always try to keep it to a minimum.

What do you find is the hardest thing about being a rapper?

The biggest obstacle I’ve faced in my music career so far is probably having to do everything myself. I make my own beats, write my own lyrics, engineer my own stuff, shoot my own videos, so sometimes that gets in the way of everything else. The hardest thing about being a rapper in my opinion is getting people to listen to your content especially because the game is so over saturated.

What kind of gear/software do you use to make beats and record?

I make beats in FL Studio. I don’t care what anyone says, that’s the best software. I record with Reaper but I’ve been trying to learn Pro Tools a little.

When you produce do you use samples or do you prefer writing your own melodies?

I do both, it just depends on how I’m feeling… I like sampling but the process of clearing a sample is very hectic. As an independent artist, it’s hard to get a response from someone when you want to clear a sample, so recently I’ve been using VSTs to write melodies.

Do you have any future plans for your music? What kind of impact do you wanna have on people?

Me and Jupiter Gang are always working on new material. I’m supposed to be dropping a collab tape with my little brother Juice Atkins, and I also plan on doing a lot more shows and keep trying to build my following one fan at a time. I want people to feel like they know me when they hear my music, and that they have somebody who understands what they’re going through. I also wanna encourage somebody to follow their dreams and be themselves. We don’t need another, we need a first you.

Find Kalel Xavier on Twitter and Instagram: @KalelXavier

EINSTEIN 2: https://soundcloud.com/kalel-xavier/sets/einstein-2

TOO MUCH ANIME (SOUNDCLOUD): https://soundcloud.com/jupiter-gang/sets/too-much-anime

SWIM Mixtape 2 is now on DatPiff! Check it out!

SWIM Mixtape 2 just dropped! Be sure to check it out!

By Kyle Mantha

When I first heard of Brockhampton, they were a scrappy little internet music collective called “AliveSinceForever.” The group had a ton of members, and to tell the truth, I don’t remember all of them. They were simply a bunch of kids who met on a Kanye West fan-forum and decided to make music together. I loved how organic they felt. Kevin Abstract’s MTV1987 and Dom McLennon’s “Thesis” were the only notable projects the collective had really released. The efforts were amateurish and youthful but there was so much potential buried within. I knew that these kids would be special, but I didn’t realize just how special they would be.

Sometime around 2015, AliveSinceForever rebranded as Brockhampton. They trimmed the fat, dropped a bunch of members, and started to move as a unit, rather than a loosely-collected group of kids hanging out on the internet. They moved into a house in San Marcos, TX together, and began dropping some of the most inventive rap music I had ever heard.

It was around this time that I started to follow what these guys were doing very closely. I became a superfan. I threw down dozens of questions on Kevin Abstract’s ask.fm, desperate for any info I could get on upcoming projects. I interacted with the group on Twitter, and they usually responded. They were like that with all of their fans. Always down to chat, always down to answer a question. Kevin would often post his phone number on Twitter, taking time to FaceTime with fans, including myself on one occasion. It was this kind of personal connection that lead this group to having one of the most devoted fan-bases in hip hop.

If you head over to Kevin Abstract’s Twitter page, you can see that his replies are often filled with the type of feverish idol-worship typically reserved for major pop stars and movie icons. This kind of loyalty and feverish support is what allows Brockhampton to actually turn profit from their off the wall creations. They started an organic movement, rather than just trying to appeal to anyone who would listen. Once the rabid support was there, all they had to do was come together and create great content.

In the Saturation documentary that was released with the group’s third album, there is a scene where the entire Brockhampton crew is sitting in the living room of their South Central LA home, plotting what to do next. Kevin complains that they don’t have a coherent direction. Eventually, someone suggests that they just make a flyer for a yet to be released album, put it on Twitter with a release date, and try to have the album done for that date. There would be no pussyfooting, because they had exactly 2 months to try and make something special. There was no time to sit around, no time to waste.

The group immediately hunkered down and began working. Beats would boom out of producer Romil’s bedroom, often with the entire 17 man roster crammed into the tiny space. Lyrics were written on huge whiteboards so everybody could see what was going on. It was this kind of encouraging, creative environment that allowed Brockhampton to release not one, not two, but three stunning albums, all within one year.

By Kyle Mantha

Despite what the title might have you think, the overall message of Jean Grae & Quelle Chris’ collaborative album is that everything is not fine. Not even a little bit. In fact, the lyrics suggest that things are not going to be fine anytime soon, so we should probably get used to it. The melancholy lyrical content paired with sunny, jazzy, production makes for a very interesting listen. Jean Grae’s melodic flow and Quelle Chris’ sing-song poetry provide some of the most compelling vocal performances I’ve heard all year. Graced with features from street rap extraordinaire Your Old Droog, and comedians Hannibal Buress and Nick Offerman, Everything’s Fine is an extremely memorable record.

While her overall style isn’t exactly my cup of tea, I have to acknowledge that Jean Grae is an extremely talented rapper and writer. Her lyrics and flows are inventive, unique, and captivating. Quelle Chris is equally impressive, often sounding more like a spoken-word poet than a rapper. The way the two vocalists float over the production is ethereal and cloud-like, providing a hazy atmosphere that wraps the listener like a warm blanket.

My biggest complaint with this project is that it failed to hold my interest over the course of its 15 song, 55 minute run time. About halfway through, I found the album began to drag. Beginning with the track “Gold Purple Orange,” which did not do enough to justify it’s 5 minute length, it becomes hard to discern when song transitions to the next. The production follows many of the same motifs throughout the record, resulting in a somewhat dragging tracklist.

Despite the same-ness of the beats, Jean and Quelle do often manage to grab attention with their flows. Quelle falls into pockets that I hadn’t even realized could be done, and Jean’s ability to jump from cadence to cadence without losing her footing is incredibly impressive. With more captivating production, these two rappers could easily make a classic project. Their chemistry is undeniable, and they do an excellent job of actually working with each other. This album doesn’t just feel like a collection of verses between two different rappers, you can actually tell that they sat down and wrote the songs together.