3 Albums That Made 2014 Worth It (Sort Of)

            So, this year is winding down. It hasn’t been that stellar in my opinion, but music always gets me through. So here are the 3 albums that had me feelin’ opposite of blue.

3. Azealia Banks, Broke With Expensive Taste

            We all know Miss Amor by now. Always on Twitter, actin’ loud. Yes, moments on Hot 97 made us proud, but you know she a young kit, steady on the prowl. But all of her antics aside, her music is where it’s at. She spits hard over house beats, which is no easy feat and is as verbose as she is ferocious. Anyone who has looked up the lyrics to 212 on Rap Genius can attest.

            Verbal acrobatics aside, the story she tells via rhyme is increasingly compelling. Yes, Broke With Expensive Taste, true to its name, is a very glitz and glamour narrative. However, Banks has always offered a unique queer femme twist on the rags-to-riches story. Stand out tracks include Gimme a Chance, Desperado and Miss Amor.

The caveat: her singing leaves much to be desired, but her choice of melody is hella impressive. Here’s to hoping she can stay above the fame and maintain. Also, Banks’ use of alliteration and onomatopoeia has proven that Missy Elliot’s influence has finally come full circle. (Pump chigga rum, parum pum, pump chigga rum parum pum pum!)

2. Ratking, So It Goes

            Ratking are a hip hop band from New York comprised of Wiki (emcee), Hak (vocals) and Sporting Life (ones-and-twos). The outfit is unique because they are, as was previously mentioned, a hip hop band. Not the first of their kind, after all this lineup is found in a lot of traditional hip hop outfits. But what makes listening to this album invigorating it is the way they use their line-up. Wiki is the band’s traditional-style emcee. He spits percussively, but also incisively. Hak is poetic in his associations and is more notable for the images he conjures than for the technicality of his bars, although brother can spit for sure. Sporting Life, the elder statesman of the group, is a wonderfully and wildly experimental producer, but still manages to keep things sounding hip hop.

            Their debut LP details the group’s relationship to the (meta)physical space that is the city. From its gentrification (Snow Beach), to its militarization (the anti-NYPD anthem Remove Ya, pronounced rrraymooo ya), to its degeneration and rebirth (Canal, the title track).

            Ratking make an exciting experimental album that is modern yet keeps alive hip hop’s greatest contribution to the world of music: incisive, insightful, emotional storytelling. As Hak asks on the eponymous track, “How can ya buy, sell the sky?” It’s a question we should all be asking ourselves.

          

  1. FKA Twigs, LP1

         She’s not for everyone. She is not Beyoncé. (Beyoncé wishes she was this emotionally intelligent). Yes, she’s bizarrely experimental (even more than the other artists on this list). But the album that got me through this gawd awful year was FKA Twigs’ simply titled LP1.

         There is a lot to love about Twigs, especially if you’re a music nerd. Her penchant for esoteric classical arrangements, as well as R&B and hip hop beats.  Her soprano range and lilting delivery. The way she motherfucking moves. 

        But again, what sets an artist ahead is their ability to tell a story, both sonically and lyrically. And LP1, much like Bjork’s Vespertine, tells a story of self-discovery via a love affair. It starts with Preface, the Sir Thomas Wyatt quoting ode to romance turned self-hate, and then moves through all the familiar R&B territory. You have songs that make reference to cunnilingus (Two Weeks) and masturbation (Kicks), but also songs about being overlooked as a serious artist (Video Girl) and my personal favorite, both sonically and lyrically, Give Up. The song is addressed to a friend/lover who has (in typical millennial fashion) faced a setback so insurmountable that they have, as the title suggests, given up on themselves. Without being didactic or preachy the song speaks to the power of love and affection to lift the spirit, as well as encourage resilience and camaraderie. Again, Twigs is not a Beyoncé (sorry Fader). She is emotionally intelligent. She takes an age old theme, in this case love and sex, and explores it from all angles: the beauty and the hatred, the healthy and the unhealthy, the clear and the ambiguous. These are not vain anthems to heteronormativity. I mean the bitch’s favorite album is Germ Free Adolescents by X-Ray Spex. Say what you want about Twigs, that she’s this year’s hype, that you don’t get it, that her voice is too quiet. Just admit that this bitch is no dummy. She’s a musician, a storyteller and a performer.

      Also, I saw her live and the girl next to me started crying…

       So, yeah, that’s what I think. If you don’t feel the same way you can blink and then click another page. The Gregorian phase known as ’14 over. If you ain’t got the cards ma, you better hold ‘er.

      Be safe in ’15. Word Is Bond. And as always, Check the Rhime.

   

The Real Problem With #BlackLivesMatter

            Sometimes genocide the slow tide

            I spent most of my college years thinking I was crazy. Things that seemed so easy for my mostly white, mostly light skinned friend group seemed really hard for me. Like maintaining a relationship with an advisor. Like finding an on-campus job. Like working on group projects. I used to write for the school newspaper. I used to be a hardcore activist. I cannot count the number of times I was emotionally assaulted by salty saltines accusing me of reverse-racism. Many of these people verbally assaulted me, but then sought to paint me as the angry Black womyn.

Sometimes genocide the slow tide.

            Fast forward to now. #BlackLivesMatter is trending. Many alumna from my alma mater have hopped on the proverbial bandwagon. Which begs the question: Where was y’all ofays when I was struggling to graduate? Where was y’all when I was getting threats for calling out white supremacy on campus? Where was y’all when I was left behind after matriculating into the real world, unable to find a job, but too burnt out to apply for grad school? What about all the others who get left behind?

Sometimes genocide the slow tide.

            We are a woefully mislead generation that is now standing up for what we believe. The only thing is, we don’t quite know what those beliefs are. In the digital age, or as James Boggs called it, “the age of automation,” one merely needs to type beliefs into a keyboard in order to substantiate them. But I am of the opinion that beliefs are substantiated through ACTION, and ONLY ACTION.

            Yes, there are protests. We must be visible. We must, to use the activisty parlance of our times, show up. But it is not enough to show up simply when the cameras and news reporters are in play. One must always be present, in the privacy of our bedrooms, kitchens and common spaces.

Sometimes genocide the slow tide.

            In addition to the ephemeral nature of the digital age, I would like to indict two other forces in our culture: 1) meritocracy and academia, 2) fame (rags-to-riches) posturing.  

            It has become far too easy to appear to be doing good work. Academia is known for using excessive language to mystify what are often simple ideas. (Of this I am also guilty, a product of my environment). Success, even in activist cultures, is measured by the notoriety of your work, arbitrary qualifiers that can’t really measure impact, and the income generated by that work. Not to mention that it is possible to speak the social justice lingo, and still be an oppressive asshole in your personal life.

           

         Furthermore, pop culture is saturated with images of excess that are not attainable for most. But in the absence of a revolutionary panacea, most folx are, as Azealia Banks put it, “on that get rich." And don’t get me wrong, it can be refreshing to see Black people eatin’. As queer entertainer Mykki Blanco put it, “You don’t have to be political anymore by screaming, you can be political by the sheer show of your success.” But liberation, if it ever comes, is not going to come through the assimilation of marginalized bodies into the existing social order. My gay ass ain’t gon’ be saved just because all of a sudden gay rap artists are checking into the W.

Sometimes genocide the slow tide.

            The prophecy of Gil Scott Heron, powerful though it may be, has been proven wholly false. The revolution will be televised. We are under surveillance. Nothing escapes the electronic gaze. However, the power of Heron’s legacy as a proto-rap icon lay in his uncanny ability to call out the subculture. Even the revolutionaries weren't revolutionary enough for that brother. 

            Our generation, those who have come of age with the internet, sincerely and admirably want to be about something. But you can’t very well achieve if you are replicating macrocosmic injustices interpersonally. And that goes for all of us. Even the Black ones. Put simply, you ain’t right, if you ain’t treatin’ yo’ people right.

Sometimes genocide the slow tide.

This piece is dedicated to all the Black folk out there who have a hard time feeling like they matter, hash tag or no.