I heard about Chico 2Triple in January when Traps N Trunks posted “6 Year Grudge,” a loud and bullish self-introduction over stuttering hi-hats and a chipmunked vocal sample. Chico’s provided bio would make an A&R salivate: he had just been released from a six year stint in federal prison. In July, I spoke to Chico on the phone about his album The HomeComing, which was released online two weeks ago.
Chico was born in Columbus, Ohio, then moved to Detroit, “But I might as well be from Huntsville, Alabama,” he said. The city’s hip-hop scene has treated him well. “Before the rap thing, I was a real drug dealer. I was a real hustler. So they got respect for somebody who go off, do they time, don’t talk, and come back, and live what he really talk about.” Laughing, he added, “I can’t tell you how much free beats I done got and how much love I got.”
Scram Jones lives on the sidelines. I’ve seen his name on production credits for as long as I can remember, but I can’t name any of them. He acknowledges his lack of visibility on “40 Bar Flashback,” where he says, “Was cool like that before I could produce a track / Ten years in the game and they’re like, ‘Scram Jones (who is that?)'” Littered with rap references, the tape is a hip-hop celebration with enthusiasm and mirth instead of suffocating reverence. There are familiar samples, punchlines that you’ll be tempted to tweet, a memorable Alchemist appearance (two if you count the previously-released Gangrene track), and Kenny Powers interludes instead of cries of “For the culture!” Proof that rap can still be casual and fun.
Starlito chases Ultimate Warrior with a nine song supplement. Separation Anxiety is a lot like Ultimate Warrior, but with an inclination toward slow jams inflamed by hi-hats, Lito’s laid back jeering, and cries of “bitch!”
Rounding out this week’s deluge of mixtapes (Cold Day In Hell, LiveLoveASAP) is L.E.P. Bogus Boys’ Now or Neva. It’s street rap by the book, but not without its moments, which I’ve cherry picked for you. Keep that in mind when our telethon rolls around.
The beats are shinier and the guests are bigger but Freddie Gibbs still raps better than nigh everyone in possession of a microphone. Best song? “Neighborhood Hoez” with monsieur 2 Chainz.
Starlito’s newest mixtape Ultimate Warrior is a swirl of ambition, regret, and base desire. It’s more a mass of new material than a proper street album, but no less entrancing for it. The Nashville rapper is wildly charismatic and raps in lyrically dense bursts. Even when he adopts familiar topics – drug dealing sagas and misogynist romps – he sits on top of them and sneers at them. Or he transcends them by telling the stories with genuine feeling rather than going through the motions.
Ultimate Warrior starts with “#UW,” a title track for the hashtag age and a confrontational and cheeky introduction. Vitriolic peaks excuse the lack of a hook. Starlito raps from the back of his throat in a strangled croak that sounds like he’s about to throw up. The anticipative beat serves a hostile, outspoken loudmouth. “Antonio Montana” opens with Starlito reciting Scarface lesson number one, “Don’t underestimate the other guy’s greed,” before breaking into a cackle. He wavers between sardonic and aggressive throughout Ultimate Warrior.
Huntsville rap is iridescent, but gritty; starry-eyed, but grounded; and always heavy on bass. It’s pretty much the only hip-hop scene worth getting excited about today. Family Ties came out this week, a new mixtape from O’Third, themselves a subset of great rappers and producers behind Huntsville’s relatively bigger names.
They’re much more grounded in today’s Southern rap sounds and tropes than their affiliate group G-Side. Money, weed, and bitches all make appearances. O’Third’s left turns aren’t as brazen — many of their songs wouldn’t be out of place on Def Jam release, except for the fact that they’re really good. The Auto-Tune verse on “Say My Girl” has no business on an underground mixtape, but it comes as naturally as the Hitchcockian beat on “DeBo.” Producers R.Dot, Snypa, and Bossman are in a league of their own and Monster, Zilla, DJ Cunta, and Mitch all command attention with authoritative performances. My only gripe is the line, “Killin’ ’em all like Auschwitz,” which is tasteless and offensive, even by hip-hop standards.
Still, Family Ties is a milestone in Huntsville’s winning streak and a contender for mixtape/album of the year. Believe the hype.
Untamed is a mild alternative to adlib-heavy Southern rap. They have more in common with Freddie Gibbs than Waka Flocka; that is, they can actually rap. Grab The 6 Day Equation below and don’t forget about Street Solid.
Exile’s greatest strength is quaint, jittery loops set to the ruminations of a talented niche of local rappers, but he takes a few excellent detours on his new mixtape, a collection of new and old tracks. The unexpected Bun B feature is one such excursion, a helping of syrupy, buzzing funk and “Mic Jackson” by Dag Savage (a collab rapper Johaz) is huger and more anthemic than usual for Ex. There are reliable appearances by Fashawn, Co$$ and of course Blu. The sooner that Blu realizes that his most memorable work is with Exile (and vice versa), the better. Intro to the Outro is an hour-long reprieve from the usual deluge of crap.
XXX makes for a nasty listen. It’s a death spiral of drugs, alcohol, and sex and yet the title actually refers to the roman numeral. Danny Brown just turned 30. Inebriated fornication is hardly a new topic for hip-hop, but XXX takes a startlingly dark tone. “Die Like a Rockstar” is the album’s thesis. Brown compares himself to deceased entertainers, his cartoony cadence making him sound truly deranged. “Bruiser Brigade” is the backdrop to a night of belligerent drunkenness and “Lie4” is the same, but with hallucinogens. The project requires cracked, this-is-your-brain-on-drugs beats and Skywlkr, Brandun Deshay, and Paul White rise to the task magnificently. XXX is an outburst from an artist who can’t call himself a young man anymore and one of the best rap albums of the year.
