Yasiin Bey (fka Mos Def), “Priority”
The first decade of Mos Def’s career was filled with adulation: He was the underground’s savior, even a respected actor. Then the frustrations flowed. Once he became an aggressor to rap’s corporate commercialization to the extent that his label slapped together True Magic with the care of a Canal Street mixtape just to get him off its roster, his days as a rap star seemed numbered. While folks at home collected verses through Limewire downloads, he was out in the wilderness doing whatever the hell Mos Def does—rapping in South Africa, hanging out with Black Thought and Jay Electronica, and bringing the B-Boy spirit global with memories of The Rock Steady Crew guiding his ship.
From these travels came The Ecstatic, one of the most ambitious, messy acts of rap’s then-fledgling Blog Era. Scattered throughout were suntanned Preservation beats, the Madlib and Slick Rick-assisted Middle Eastern coup “Auditorium,” a Neptunes track that probably was meant for Mystikal, and the darling 90-second cruise of “Priority.”
Though it was the shortest song on the record you understood the rest of the album’s vision within its first few bars. “Peace before everything/God before anything/Love before anything/Real before everything.” In a new found-footage music video culled from director Cognito’s personal archives to celebrate the album’s Rhymesayers-backed reissue, we see Black Dante’s million-dollar smile grow brighter with every passport stamp.
De La Soul, “Run It Back!!” f/ Nas
I don’t want to talk about more AI videos from Busta Rhymes, AI album covers from Kurupt or Alchemist, what is or is not manmade on new Ye albums, or any of the other slippery truths in this post-reality techno-feudalist hellscape anymore. I’d rather run it back to a simpler time when rappers lost their nimbleness but kept their heart. Where wrinkles and grays were a sign of wisdom rather than quirks needed synthetic adjustment. Where you could see the wheels turning on how they could bring their own spin to the modern age. If it came off a hamfisted at least it was their touch, not a programmer’s. Posdonus and Nas still understand the value of taking the scenic route through a verse whether it’s overcomplicating self-praise or shouting out every artist who reminds them of their salad days. Efficiency and perfection are the moral cores of robots, but De La’s art official intelligence is a language these new models still can’t read.
Tezzus & diamond*, “Uy Scuti” f/ Young Thug
Peak Young Thug was such a supernova that every individual verse he squealed has since birthed a new rapper. Over the last few years Tezzus has synthesized Thugger’s unpredictable vocal ticks and rollercoaster energy (“Jumped Out The Window” and “Harambe” most of all) while diamond* mimics the straightline, headrush raps that can appease traditionalists while wowing the most open minded fans (cc: “Metro Spider” or “Sacrifices”). They both also hold Thug’s secret weapon in a merciless work ethic, flooding YouTube with hundreds of videos and streamers with twice as many songs, loosies and collabs. Call them the Uy Scuti Boyz, call them the dueling banjos of ØWay, call them a means to an end for Thug to reposition himself as the cutting-edge star he once was after the failure of his post-prison comeback record, but it’s impossible to ignore the radiance of Tezzus and Diamond* any longer.
Lancey Foux, “Rockstar Rider”
Lancey Foux, the UK underground’s apex predator—with his trim tuxedo and starlet paramour rubbing together in the backseat of a speeding Rolls Royce—looks like a natural fit to be the next James Bond supervillain. The way Lancey lays it out it feels like nothing can stop him from achieving every luxury he yearns for in this life, setting him up as an unstoppable force on a collision course with the immovable 007. As he plods over this scuzzy dark wave soundbath I can already see him at odds with Henry Cavill (the only man in the gunning for the role who won’t look miniature next to Lancey) sicking henchman on the world’s most famous spy, shooting one another from balconies, tussling in hand-to-hand brawls through glass windows. I can’t place how Bond is going to get out of this one, because I know for sure Foux can never miss.
730Turk, “Them vs. Me”
There’s already a distinct accent to attached to folks from Florida that separate them from their Southern siblings, plus a starter pack of slang that has no home outside of the wetlands. What Orlando’s 730turk does is further distort this slurry regional beauty by rapping through clenched teeth and stretching his voice like Silly Putty to separate himself into a new class amongst the state’s eccentric linguists. There’s howling, grumbling through clenched teeth, all the James Brown ad-libs, and inhuman gurgles from the depths of his esophagus and no moment spared to detail his elaborate murder plots. Like most turk songs, it all builds to a classic rap sample that feels out of place on his strain of eerie Detroit-type beats, but “How To Kill A Man” has historically been underused and feels like the only moment of sanctuary amid his linguistic gymnastics.
