G-Mane, Bentley and S.L.A.S.H. - Cold Case (off Crime Potnaz, 2013, self-released)
When I wrote about Bloody Jay's long-since-deleted Blatlanta 2 last month, I was reflecting on how modern mixtape-friendly street rap is in a hall of mirrors stage, with those we considered weedholders and lackeys becoming the most adventurous artists about, and the constant biters have become more interesting to listen to as a result. Another advantage of the mixtape era is that those weedholders and lackeys and biters have limitless online space to cash in their chips and showcase their developing artistry. Sometimes, you really fall for the second liners.
My fandom of Alabama's Slow Motion Soundz collective is deeply routed in G-Side's exemplary albums, which present a series of characters at the right times and on the right songs. You don't get a random member of the crew appearing on a G-Side song because they needed put on, you get them adding colour and perspective to the tracks. Because of this, SMS have become one of the few collectives in hip-hop that has me caring for all their voices. I'm fond of Kristmas's working-man, regular dude jollity. Bentley, the collective's politically-minded firebrand, has my favourite verse of the year on ST 2 Lettaz' 'Wasted Youth'. Codie G's ocassional foray in front of the microphone, usually to add context to a song like he does throughout G-Side's 2011 album The One... Cohesive.
My favourite member of the sprawling SMS collective is definitely S.L.A.S.H. She seems to drop less verses than any of the crew, something she seems aware in her own blogging profile: "A rapper that somehow never has time to rap." Whenever she does appear, she usually walks away with the track, her ability to capture details and oft-skipping wordplay unmatched in the crew: "Grinding long nights like there's no lights on like the house in the heights," that sort of thing. She makes it sound easy. She's very good.
The recent Crime Potnaz promises from the outset to be a collaborative tape between S.L.A.S.H., Bentley and Huntsville rumble-of-authority figure G-Mane. It doesn't turn out this way - much of it is a collection of assorted G-Mane material, some of which knocks and some of which doesn't. ('Hardcore Luv' is the best of the bunch, an effectively gruelling tale of love and revenge.) The four songs S.L.A.S.H. appears on are reminders of her control and acumen, with 'Cold Case' an obvious standout. She rails against practitioners of female abuse, grounding her anger in family history and personal circumstances, and details how she could get away with killing a wife-beater. She raps all of this in her usual dead-ahead focus, the wording straightforward so you don't miss a hint of her anger, the restraint of the cool in her voice making her even more formidable. On this evidence, I look forward to her next verse, whenever it may come.
