Tuesday, March 17, 2015

A Saturday Afternoon in Merrymont


Merrymont is an eclectic collection of small homes nestled within a sprawling residential section of Martinez, GA, just northwest of Augusta. Around here it is pronounced "Martin-ez," (like it's a non-hispanic guy's first name) and I gave up about a year ago on trying to make a cultural statement by correctly pronouncing it Martinez (like a hispanic guy's last name). For the last two years this neighborhood has been my home.

Bordered by the slightly more upscale Spring Lakes to the south and east (but with no physical barrier between the two), Merrymont is full of American working-class diversity and charm. The longer I have lived here, the more I have come to appreciate its quirks and eccentricities. Its idiosyncratic qualities make it unique and interesting amongst the convergence of highly maintained and manicured subdivisions that make up much of neighboring Evans, GA.

I have come to love my neighborhood. It is not hip. It is not artsy. It is not trendy. It is not known. It has no carefully constructed identity. It is purely, simply, American. And it is full of life. Real life.

On a recent Saturday afternoon, I attempted to capture some of its character with my camera. These photos are just a peek into its strange and wonderful vibrance.
















































Tuesday, February 10, 2015

The Blacker the Berry the Bigger I Shoot


"See a lot of y'all don't understand Kendrick Lamar because you wonder how I could talk about money, hoes, clothes, God and history all in the same sentence. You know what all them things have in common? Only half of the truth...if you tell it. See I spent twenty-three years on this earth searching for answers, till one day I realized I had to come up with my own. I'm not on the outside looking in, I'm not on the inside looking out. I'm in the dead f*****g center, looking around."

-Kendrick Lamar, "Ab-Soul's Outro," Section.80

Rarely if ever do songs that carry a "message," especially a "racially charged message," truly capture the subtle complexities of reality. Instead most music, and really most influential public voices in general, typically contain polarizing hyperbole or at the very least take a clear "side" on the issue at hand.

In "The Blacker the Berry," a grimy, brilliant masterpiece, Kendrick Lamar forces the careful listener to question on what side of the post-Ferguson cultural divide he ultimately stands.

If you listen just carefully enough through syllable after syllable of mesmerizing, virtuosic vitriol, you will realize he stands on both sides simultaneously. Indeed his above words from Section.80 ring prophetically truer than ever. And his consciousness of this aspect of his role as an artist - to grey the black and white lines of distinct truths - is what makes him truly phenomenal.

It is shocking and inspiring and confusing all at the same time to have this type of work end with the simple dichotomy of a "hypocrite."

And yet, isn't that reality? Truth is nuanced. "You" in this song is nuanced. You is white, You is black, You is many things. Don Lemon isn't right, but neither is Azealia Banks...at least neither of them are exactly.

Either way we are left with this harsh reality: Regardless of who I am, "the blacker the berry, the bigger I shoot."

It seems ultimately that this is the dilemma Kendrick Lamar would have us spend our time examining.

When art opens our minds to the complexities, nuances, and horrors of reality, it is in my opinion, at its most powerful.

This is powerful art.

This song is FIRE. In how it is delivered, in how it incites, and in how it burns away our polarizing, boxed ideas about post-Furguson America.


Sunday, May 4, 2014

Rap Has Been Moved to DEFCON 1: Highest Alert


EVERYONE, JUSTIN SCOTT HAS SNAPPED. RAPPERS LISTEN AT YOUR OWN RISK.

Everything about this track is sublime. When the beat drops at the :58 mark try not to get goosebumps.



"What's good for Hip-Hop may not be good for my soul."


And yes, he did make the beat. Kings are indeed Remembered In Time. Perhaps his time has come.

Saturday, May 3, 2014

Donald Sterling, White People, & America's Deep-Seated Black Inferiority Complex


The public outcry in response to Clippers owner Donald Sterling's now infamous, racist diatribe has been fierce. Initially, I reacted similarly to how I imagine most decently-educated middle class white folks did: I shook my head and became self-righteously indignant that someone, particularly someone associated with basketball, would say such things. This was yet another reminder, I thought, that racism is still alive and well in America, particularly among old, rich, white dudes.

Then I actually listened to the recording of the conversation in its entirety. I realized that it was worse than I thought.

I realized this because it was much, much more mundane than I expected. It was more subtle than I had imagined. I kept waiting for Sterling to shout "I just can't stand black people!" or to use the dreaded -ER variety of the N-word. Those overt expressions of exceptionally racist ideology never appeared as I listened to the conversation in question. Instead, Sterling remained mostly calm. He sounded...tired...as he tediously explained to V. Stiviano, his mixed black and latino mistress, why he just REALLY wished she wouldn't advertise publicly that she associated with black people. The conversation ended, and I looked to my girlfriend Sarah who was listening along with me. We both felt the same thing: that wasn't as...bad...as I expected. Again, we were right. It was worse.

V. Stiviano
It was worse because that 9 minute conversation, now responsible for the first ever lifetime ban of an NBA owner, is not unlike so many conversations that take place behind closed doors across America each and every day. In his own words, Donald Sterling "has NO problem with black people." He just doesn't want anyone to know that his mistress (his black mistress) makes a habit of spending her free time around them. That's not THAT bad...right?

No. It's bad. It's completely unacceptable. And for once, it was handled appropriately. That's really the best that can be said for the punishment Sterling was dealt. It was appropriate. Anything more than that and the actual significance of this whole ordeal in the "fight against racism" becomes grossly overstated. Why?

Because we live in a society that has black inferiority deeply ingrained in the fabric of its culture, and the outing of one old-school racist curmudgeon doesn't do much to change that. Sterling's words do present us, however, with a glimpse of what lies at the foundation of modern racism: a double standard. In my mind, the most troubling aspect of our society's double standard when it comes to black people, is that our subtle declarations of their inferiority go unnoticed a shocking majority of the time. It's not so much that we are in great denial of our racism. Instead, we have become so accustomed to it being woven into our ways of thinking, speaking, and decision-making, that we no longer even detect it. But it is there.

White parents are often fine with their son or daughter hanging out with black friends, but when they find out that daddy's sweet little girl is dating a black boy, all hell breaks loose. Donald Sterling is fine with black people, but he doesn't want his mistress seen attending Clippers games with them. Suburban soccer moms chatter back and forth complaining about how loud and annoying the African-American (this part is whispered) woman at the nail parlor was.

As an aside...let me just take this opportunity to clear something up for white people: You are not going to offend a black person by calling them black. Nothing screams timid caucasian ignorance more than always carefully referring to black people as "African-Americans." For one, black people aren't ALL African-American. They might be Cuban-American or Jamaican-American etc. So just be cool, and say you saw a black guy. He's cool with that. Everybody's cool with that.

In so many white conversations about neighborhoods or apartment complexes, the unspoken (or sometimes spoken) understanding is that, those "not-so-nice apartments" or those "rough" neighborhoods are basically places-where-a-bunch-of-black-people-live-so-don't-go-there.

Sarah is taking a class at UCLA this summer about the cultural history of rap music. When some white people ask me what classes she is taking, I simply respond with, "a cultural history class." Why? Because I don't want to deal with that uncomfortable look of misunderstanding and disapproval that will undoubtedly spread across their face. I know to expect this because I took multiple black culture classes myself at Duke, and learned the hard way that it is just not worth explaining them to some white people. I think this might be the closest I will ever come to feeling black shame. The fact that I would have to explain the value of those courses at all proves my point: Many of these sentiments regularly thought and expressed by white people are not overtly racist. However, they ultimately establish black people, their generalized tendencies, and their culture as inferior.

Even when the words of white people are supportive of their black counterparts: "I love black people!" or "I'm not racist, I have black friends!" (A statement that essentially means "Hey look, I'm racist!"), they often belie an underlying lack of respect.

Unfortunately, the true expression of our modern devaluation of blacks lies not in our words, but in our actions. Many of us truly do not have any conscious prejudice towards blacks, and as such we never express any. We may even be a voice against racism, and we MIGHT even post a Facebook status about how great it is that Donald Sterling got a lifetime ban for what he said! How cunning! What activism.

Truly though, what we cannot ignore is the reality that for decades since the Civil Rights Movement as well as long before, black Americans have been suffering injustices created by those in power (rich people, white people, rich white people, me, you if you're white and/or middle class or above, Donald Sterling, Michael Jackson once he became white, etc). When injustices go unnoticed for long periods of time, they become systematic, and when they become systematic, they become very, very difficult to correct.

This is why we all turned into NAACP members when we heard about Sterling's racist comments, but did nothing in 2003 and 2006 when he faced lawsuits for housing discrimination, an offense far worse than any comment in a private conversation.

Bomani Jones
ESPN analyst Bomani Jones exquisitely expressed his frustration with this disparity in a radio interview shortly after the story broke. If you can spare the ten minutes, it is certainly worth the listen.

We did nothing because, for the most part, we weren't aware that it was happening. This Huffington Post article explains it well:

"The charges made against Sterling were stomach-turning. In response to the 2003 suit, one of his property supervisors testified that Sterling said all blacks "smell" and are "not clean," that he wanted to "get them out" of his properties to preserve his image, and that he harassed tenants and refused to make repairs until they were forced to leave, according to depositions obtained by ESPN The Magazine.

But as alarming as the claims against Sterling are, housing discrimination as a practice is alive and well in America, and can't be solved with something as simple as a lifetime ban.

'For individuals and families, it limits their housing choices, it dictates where you can and cannot live, and that means limited access to other opportunities: educational opportunities, employment opportunities, health care services, other amenities," Fred Freiberg, director of the nonprofit Fair Housing Justice Center, told HuffPost. "It sustains and enforces patterns of racial segregation and poverty concentration, and it creates a whole host of inequalities that we could, frankly, do without.'"

Though housing discrimination just one example, it captures the concept of systematic oppression in a nutshell. I don't even think I completely understood the concept until I lived in Durham, NC for 5 years. Shortly after graduating from college I became friends with Damien Lee, who grew up in oft-feared-by-Duke-students East Durham. I soaked up as much of his knowledge of Durham history as I could, and appreciated his perspective on it as a black man from one of "those bad" neighborhoods. I had lived in Durham for over 4 years when I met Damien, and he was the first person to ever mention "Black Wall Street" to me. I believe that speaks volumes to the common disconnect between white wealth and black culture and history.

As it turns out, in the early 1900's, Parrish Street in downtown Durham became the home of several prominent black-owned companies. While Jim Crow-era struggles raged on in other areas of the country, Durham developed one of the most thriving black communities in the nation. Many of these black residents lived in the Hayti community that bordered Parrish Street. For a decent portion of the early 20th century, this "Black Wall Street" served as a bustling hub of black business activity. Then, in the 1960's, Durham went through a period of "urban renewal." Already past its hey-day, the Hayti community/Parrish Street area was dealt a devastating blow when the Durham Freeway was built directly through it. In many ways, this was a death sentence for the once-thriving "Black Wall Street," in the name of "progress." Since that time, Durham has seen continued renewal of its downtown areas, vacated in the wake of the era of tobacco prosperity.


I have myself enjoyed this updated, hipster-attracting Durham with its many independent restaurants, micro-breweries, and artistic elements. I have visited several of these newer establishments with Damien, where together we pondered the juxtaposition of modern hipster-Durham against the old thriving hub of black activity from the past. The answer to which is better, I presume, lies in the eye of the beholder.

Durham's story is not vastly different from that of many other American cities. With LA's large minority populations, episodes of housing discrimination like Sterling's are not uncommon. In Chicago, white-flight, gentrification, and housing discrimination have combined over decades to produce deadly results. Basically, as blacks moved into to the city, whites moved out, because A. They could afford to establish themselves in suburban areas and commute into the city for business, and B. They didn't want to live near black people. Freeways were built, intentionally bypassing black neighborhoods and leaving extremely poor black communities isolated and with few opportunities for growth and development. Over the last decade, the results have only worsened, and south side Chicago has become much-maligned "Chiraq." The nickname is an ode to the middle-eastern country where fewer Americans were killed in 2012 than in Chicago (532).

Keith Cozart - Better Known as Chief Keef
Chiraq's most famous resident, Chief Keef, has become the public face of the violent lifestyle of the south side. To get some sense of what life is like as a 17 year-old in this part of town, look no further than the music video for "I Don't Like." Normally music videos are caricatures of reality. In this case, my gut tells me that this is not far from a typical Friday night in Englewood, where children grow up fatherless and trapped by a system that has failed them. In a brilliant documentary about Chief Keef's rise to stardom produced by Noisey.com, you get a sense of the wild-west type environment communities like these have become.

Countless news reports have berated Keith Cozart as a glorifier and promoter of everything that is wrong with violent inner-city Chicago. I don't completely disagree with that ideology, but I believe that his reality is more nuanced than that. Since signing his major label record deal with Interscope, Keef has moved to a northern suburb of Chicago.

(As chronicled in the last episode of the Noisey documentary...his current situation actually makes for wonderful comedy, as extremely wealthy white people power walk their strollers past his house on the sidewalk, where he rides four wheelers around his front yard with his homies...they are literally the only black people for miles).

He, like everyone else on the south side, does not like living there, and certainly would not choose to if given other options. The reality is few of them are given other options. It seems easy to argue that with hard work, ambition, and focus, any of them could make it out. I believe this is idealistic, and that if any of us had grown up there, we would find that point significantly more difficult to argue. Try surrounding yourself with bad living conditions, bad schools, and bad people, and see if you make it out. The American Dream looks different in different places.

So all of this begs the question: Can the entire plight of blacks in America be blamed on the "white man?" Not exactly.

I recently watched "12 Years a Slave" with Sarah, and found it to be one of the most disturbing, informing, moving, convincing films I have ever seen. As we discussed it, we agreed that the one thing the film did most excellently was subtly capture the prevalence of the slave mentality among blacks in the south. These people were oppressed so severely for so long that they started to understand their own existence through the lens of enslavement. For those born as slaves, that world was all they knew. Their goal became submission. Put simply, they began to accept their position as inferior to their white owners and drivers. This is why educated slaves were so feared by owners, because education, or an understanding of the potential for life beyond the oppression of the fields, was among the ingredients of rebellion. A slave mentality kept slaves from even developing the desire to rebel.

One of Many Memorable Scenes in "12 Years a Slave"
Much has been written about whether or not there are remnants of a slave mentality among some blacks in America today. I do not believe anything such as this exists to the degree that it would deserve to have the word "slave" attached to it...simply out of fearful respect for how horrendous that institution was. But, I do believe that some blacks today unintentionally help propagate the underlying modern idea of black inferiority. It is not fair, but it is reality, and it is the type of thing that visionaries like Spike Lee have dedicated their lives to fighting. At present, one of the greatest battles that black people fight is a against stereotypical perception. For example the idea that black people, particularly black males, are dangerous certainly exists today. The ideas that black people are simpler, less intelligent, hypersexual, less reliable, wasteful, and less driven than white people still exist as well.

Unfortunately black people, often those in the public eye, do not always act in ways that work against those horrible stereotypes. Some rappers do glorify violence, extravagance, and misogyny. Some black comedians, like Kevin Hart and Tyler Perry, make millions off of making fun of the most stereotypical aspects of their own people. I recently read a Gawker article that pointed to Kevin Hart's line in "Ride Along" when two white kids are fighting in a high school lunchroom: "You're WHITE!, You're WHITE......You don't FIGHT!" The writer pointed out how subtly yet clearly this simple (admittedly funny) line once again reinforces age-old stereotypes of blacks as ultimately savages and whites as sophisticated elites.

Spike Lee - Film Legend
Advocates for realistic black representation like Spike Lee and Bill Cosby feel that in order to come back from decades of negative stereotyping, blacks must eliminate any and all forms of "tomfoolery" from their culture, including but not limited to Soulja Boy songs, Tyler Perry sitcoms, and Allen Iverson press conferences. Culturally conscious blacks often lament the existence of BET, at least in its current format, because it really only presents a media-influenced and incomplete version of black entertainment. I once heard a black comedian reference Maya Angelou's famous poem, saying "BET is why the caged bird is still in the cage!" I thought it was hilarious and sadly a bit true.

I have met Spike Lee, and conversation with him only made me more confident in his genius. I understand the desperation of people like him. Still, I have a dream that one day white people can listen to Rick Ross without thinking all black people want to be 400 pound BAWSES that drive Maybachs. Personally, I love Ricky Rozay because he is an incredibly consistent artistic character, his music makes me feel like I'm in some epic gangster film, his ad-lib grunt is legendary, he owns Wing Stop franchises and routinely works rhymes about "Lemon-Pepper" seasoning into songs, and he is just a downright good rapper from a technical standpoint. He IS something like 400 pounds, owns it, never wears a shirt, is fully tatted, and resides in the image at the top of this blog for all the reasons above.

Rick Ross *Image NOT Representative of the Lives of All Black People.
It only takes a little bit of education, exposure to black people, and/or conscious thought to realize that no Rick Ross song or Kevin Hart standup routine is truly representative of even a minority of the black population. Unfortunately, many white people lack enough of one of these three pieces of the equation that they either consciously or subconsciously form their understanding of what black people are really like based on these stereotypes. A culture of misunderstanding develops. The results are purses grasped a bit tighter when black teens approach at the mall, low representations of blacks among students enrolled at universities, and worst of all, situations like the one in which Trayvon Martin found himself shortly before he was killed. The reality is we live in a world where black people rarely get the benefit of the doubt. 

I do not completely blame "white people" as a general population for this lack of understanding. In some ways it seems like, more than anything, it is just an unfortunate byproduct of overall human depravity. But, we as a majority people could be doing a LOT more to build bridges instead of walls. 
So the question arises...are there solutions? Can the deep-seated white superiority complex and resulting black inferiority complex be destroyed, or at least mollified? I believe the problem itself leads us to an answer that at least gives us hope. The problem is that over decades and centuries those in power have carried out a systematic devaluation of certain human beings in comparison to other human beings. For the solution I turn to the one man who taught throughout his life that every human being has unimaginable values in the eyes of God: Jesus Christ.

Now I don't mean this in the cheesy, Jesus Christ will save the day, let's just all pray about this a lot way. After all, I have been pretty frustrated with many Christians lately because of the way we have handled several "hot topic" issues. I see instead Christians as a solution through our potential to live our lives based on the radical example that Jesus set, particularly with respect to his ministry to those on the margins of society. As a white person, it is uncomfortable to admit this, but in many ways black people still live on the margins of modern American society.

The good news is, over time, progress HAS been made, and we have reason to be optimistic. I recently read an outstanding Rolling Stone interview with Bill Gates that included the following excerpt:

Bill Gates
RS: What do you say to people who argue that America's best days are behind us?
BG: That's almost laughable. The only definition by which America's best days are behind it is on a purely relative basis. That is, in 1946, when we made up about six percent of humanity, but we dominated everything. But America's way better today than it's ever been. Say you're a woman in America, would you go back 50 years? Say you're gay in America, would you go back 50 years? Say you're sick in America, do you want to go back 50 years? I mean, who are we kidding?

Rev. Dr. MLK Jr. - Leader, Visionary, Martyr

I could not agree more with Gates here, and am admittedly a bit of an eternal optimist myself. Why? Because I believe that, in the words of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., "The arc of the moral universe is long, but it bends towards justice." He actually borrowed that quote from 1850's abolitionist Theodore Parker. If an abolitionist can share those words of wisdom in 1850, I think I can get behind them now.

Still, for all the reasons mentioned earlier in this post, work needs to be done. Though it is a bit abstract, I truly believe the first step towards reconciling the problems at hand is reversing the systematic devaluation of black people in America. Notice I specifically said reversing the systematic devaluation. The problem is not people feeling hatred towards black people, so the solution is not removing hatred from people's hearts. The solution is establishing a new value system when it comes to human beings.

This is where I turn to my faith, because I think true disciples of Jesus Christ might be the only people radical enough to completely value all people equally. Here's why this is radical: valuing all people equally means recognizing that their well-being is equally important regardless of their race, gender, sexual orientation, criminal history, religious beliefs, financial situation, racist tendencies, skills, work-ethic, generosity, health, sense of entitlement, accomplishments, and on and on and on. Really think about that. If you're like me, even a few of those I just mentioned make it difficult to value some human beings as much as others. The reality is we are not perfect, and we will be judgmental. But we can remind ourselves that God values all people, ALL people, the same. Jesus ministered to the least of these. Many of our society's decisions have reflected the reality that we think that black people are the least of us all. They are not. In fact in some ways we all are because of how we have failed to treat all people equally. That, to me, is incredibly humbling.

I believe the second step towards reconciliation might be the removal of fear. Much of our decision making that has led to decades of oppression has been based on fear: "That neighborhood scares me. I might get robbed there. I might get killed there. My family might get killed there. Let's just build the freeway through there so we never have to stop there." Or worse, and more embarrassing: "The idea of not living comfortably scares me. I want to live in a neighborhood where everyone looks like me. Black people make me uncomfortable, so I am afraid to hang out with them. I am afraid of what people will think if my child dates a black person. I am afraid of what people will think if there are pictures on Instagram of my mistress with black people."

I am not saying that all of these are irrational or unjustified fears (well, the Sterling one certainly is). I am as guilty as anyone of facing several of those fears listed above. I don't think it is wrong to keep yourself and your family safe. This is an imperfect, dangerous world, and I believe that God wants us to live safely and happily. But, I also think that radically trusting in the hope of Jesus Christ and the truth that he has conquered everything this World can throw at us can help reduce our fears. And when our fears are reduced, we are freed to do more reconciliation.

In a Facebook message with Damien a while back, I asked what he thought some solutions might be to some of the systematic injustices agains blacks in our society:



Problem solved! Not really, but it would be a start if we began using our votes in local elections to support candidates whose policies leaned towards improving the balance of resource distribution to favor lower-income areas. I know that politics are incredibly complex, and I am not naive enough to believe that this is an overarching solution. But I also know that, particularly in affluent areas, white populations tend to geographically and financially isolate themselves from poorer, often blacker communities nearby. Combining these types of selfless policy changes with activism at the individual, church, and community level might actually make a difference.

This type of activism takes courage. MLK and Malcolm X died for their cause. I am, admittedly, not sure I personally feel called to take a vow of intentional poverty, move into inner-city Atlanta, and begin a grassroots campaign to reconcile racial discrimination. The idea of doing something like that terrifies me, and it does not sound like a comfortable life. Coincidentally, those are two of the exact obstacles to progress that I mentioned earlier. So I am stuck like the rest of us. Or am I?

I think God intends to use us all differently. Perhaps someone else will feel called to be the type of activist I mentioned above. If I meet someone who is, they will have my full support. For now, I feel called to love and minister to the youth of my church which is in admittedly a very white, very upper middle class Georgia town. But people with a reconciliation vision in mind need to be in communities like mine as much as they need to be anywhere else. I love my church, its congregation, its staff, and my youth. I hope I can teach them to love and respect and appreciate the value of all people, the way Jesus Christ did.

I pray that in the end, this Donald Sterling fiasco will serve as another moment of progress towards a future defined by equality rather than inferiority.

Wednesday, March 19, 2014

Mascot Madness

I'm filling out a bunch of brackets this year so that I'm happy no matter what happens. As I was going through and filling out my "Best Mascot/Logo" based bracket, I ran into a few schools with just outstanding athletic namesakes. On top of that, the physical representations of these mascots put them in an elite category.

In the West region, I came upon an incredibly difficult 12 vs 13 matchup between the North Dakota State Bison and the New Mexico State Aggies. First, I discovered that the New Mexico State Aggie is THIS GUY.
Pistol Pete and his Mascotache
Before I had a chance to fully investigate this mascot's moustache authenticity, I was pleased to discover that a friendly cartoon Bison with a bowl cut shows up at NDSU games.

Apparently North Dakota is where the wild things are.
Logos with guns are always fun.
What a tight matchup! Both schools have great nicknames and logos, equally charming and obscure in their own special ways. I was pretty much stuck until research done by my friend Nick Schwartz, who writes for For The Win at USA Today Sports, revealed that the NDSU Bison mascot's name is Thundar. Before I jumped to make the pick on a purely emotional reaction to the greatness of that name, I looked up the NMSU mascot's name: Pistol Pete. Great, but no Thundar.


Thundar is mythical and majestic.

I like how the words flow with the mane.









So, in my "Best Mascot/Logo" bracket, North Dakota State will be moving on to the second weekend. We can only hope for a dream matchup in the final four with the Stephen F. Austin University Lumberjacks, whose real-life mascot is confusedly played by these two different but equally studly guys.


I swear this guy was on "Lost."
Jersey Shore needs lumberjacks too...
The blonde looks like more of a friendly, "I chop down trees but I also hug them" sort of fellow, while the other Jack looks like he fist pumps to Avicci songs while chopping down trees and courting numerous women.

Regardless, that would be a matchup for the ages. Let the games begin.

Saturday, March 1, 2014

Atlanta Has a New Sound, and it Needs a Name. I'm Calling it "Post-Future."

Future - Rapper, Trend-Setter, Askernaut.
There's this sound coming out of Atlanta right now that has been developing over the last year or two. It's a bit hard to describe unless you've heard it, but I think the simplest way to categorize it is to call it "Post-Future."

Nayvadius Cash, better known as Future, is the Kirkwood, Atlanta native well known for his unique, mesmerizing, nearly impossible to understand vocoder/tonal/futuristic vocal style. He first implanted the sound permanently in all of our brains in September of 2011 with the never-ending refrain of "Tony Montana," the song that also helped put producer Lex Luger and his highly progammed, rapid fire fruity loop brand of trap music on the map. After Tony Muntaaaaaaana, there was "Magic" with T.I. (Fish tailin' out da parkin lot leavin' Maaaaagic) and "Same Damn Time," among other smooth, sort of autotuned, sort of vocoded, sort of punchy bangers.

Future's name and vision of his music have remained aligned, and looking back, even seem a bit prophetic. His name speaks for itself, and his mixtapes all carried a sort of space-exploration/sci-fi, "futuristic" theme (titles include Astronaut Status, pronounced "Askernaut" by Future, and Pluto.) I say that this all seemed a bit prophetic in hindsight because in many ways Future has become the center of the rap/pop universe at the present moment. Heard the phrase "Turn Up!" anywhere lately? Yeah, Future popularized that. See :38 seconds into "New Bugatti." (Travis Porter probably started it all, however, with "Aaaaall the Waaaaay Turrrnnnt Uuuuup.") Anyways, when his career was taking off, Future sort of was the future.

Left to Right: Ace Hood, Rick Ross, Future, DJ Khaled
He's currently fresh off a single with Miley Cyrus, seemingly today's ticket for mainstream rap success (thanks for that Mike Will and Juicy J), and he continues to be featured on the hooks of seemingly dozens of singles with big names like Rick Ross and B.O.B. His sound is obscenely catchy, just varied enough to remain interesting listen after listen, and easily adaptable to various types of production. He palpitates effortlessly between sing-songy melodic cuts and more street-ready bangers. One of my favorite moments of discussing Future came my senior year of college when I was talking to my friend Johnny Williams, a Duke Football player and routine Future "bumper." A Lex Luger produced beat came on and Future's distinct mumble began crooning out a hook. "What is he saying on this chorus?" I asked. Johnny's reply? "Bruh I have no idea. I never know what Future's saying but it sounds dope." That is Future in a nutshell. He just sounds cool. The lyrical content is secondary.

Migos...Post-Future in Musical AND Sartorial Style
And that brings me to this "Post-Future" sound that I see coming out of Atlanta more and more now. It became apparent to me first through Migos, the eclectic duo responsible for the absolutely ceaseless and yet infuriatingly endearing smash "Versace." You've probably heard this song, but if you haven't, it features a total of about 9 words and 8 of them are "Versace." The hook:

[Hook: Quavo]

Versace, Versace, Versace, Versace
Versace, Versace, Versace, Versace

Versace, Versace Versace, Versace Versace Versace, Versace Versace, Versace Versace


Quavo clearly stretches his lyrical abilities to the limit here. Honestly though, the song is listenable to a degree because of the rhythmic and stylistic variations he puts on each repetition of the luxury clothing line's famous name. If you haven't seen the video, a viewing is a must. Migos' Versace extravagance is fully on display, complete with a live Tiger on a leash and a mansion that they certainly rented solely for the purpose of the video shoot.

Why do I consider this clothing anthem "Post-Future?" There is just something about the inflection of Migos' words, the texture of their voices, that almost-but-not-really vocoded hint on every syllable they deliver, that seems to be derivative of the sound Future created. It's not always overt, and is at times more about the lyrical rhythm than the sound quality of their delivery, but the feel is there. Particularly in his earlier works, Future often used a sort of punchy, rapid fire type delivery where he would steadily emphasize all the words in a bar and then de-emphasize the last word on the downbeat at the end of the measure. This is a bit unusual. Take for example, the opening lines of "Tony Montana," with emphasized words underlined, and de-emphasized words in italics:

I'll take over the streets / fresh off the Banana Boat
I come straight from the East / where N***** split your cantaloupe

Migos do this same thing, albeit a more accelerated version, throughout "Versace," when they do diverge into the song's "verses.":

Versace, Versace, Medusa head on me like I'm 'Luminati
I know that you like it, Versace, my neck and my wrist is so sloppy

The only noticeable difference here is that "'Luminati" is de-emphasized with a rising, inquisitive tone, while "sloppy" is de-emphasized with a dropping tone of finality the same way "boat" and "cantaloupe" are in "Tony Montana." Still, the overall feel that this delivery creates, combined with the similar sound textures and verbal inflections, make the ties to Future clearly detectable.

Young Thug. Atlanta's Chief Keef.
Now, one imitator does not mean a city has developed a new "sound," and I didn't really connect all the dots until recently when I had the privilege of being introduced to the work Jeffrey Williams, better known as Young Thug. This young man and his music can only be described as obscurely, purely, weirdly hood. He is sort of a southern, amped up version of Chief Keef, if amping up Mr. Keef any more than he already is is possible. In fact, YT was arrested 3 days ago on charges of drug possession and reckless driving. Clearly not a low-key guy. I'll have you watch the video below without comment before I continue.

Young Thug has clearly taken Future's lack of concern for clearly understandable lyrics to a new level. In fact, I believe Thug is actually pushing this quality with an avant-garde intentionality and making the element of imperceptible lyrics part of his style. Whether he is being intentional about this intentionality is a question I cannot answer, and I suspect he cannot either. Regardless, the Future/Migos sound quality is again present. The rapid fire delivery, the semi-vocoded/autotuned sound textures, and even the rhythmic pattern are all there...though more blurred as every aspect of "Loaded" is generally unclear:

I peel it, I feel it I take all they stuff and I head to the 'hill with it
Let PeeWee deal with it / Back in the day I was actin' illiterate


*Mr. Thug, I believe, may be continuing to act in the aforementioned manner from back in the day.

Young Thug is clearly a unique individual, and I could write an entire blog post about that music video for "Loaded" alone. (I could do the same for the original video for Chief Keef's "Don't Like,") However, there is something shockingly similar about Migos' and Young Thug's lyrical rhythms when they hit that double-time portion of their verses. Both seem to be derivatives in substance and style of the sound that Future created a few years ago.


Dat cut doe.
There may be other Atlanta rappers who I am not familiar with making music in this style, and one or two more artists in this vein would certainly certify it as a sound unique to the city. I have read that Rich Homie Quan is a Future-influenced artist as well, but haven't listened to him. In addition to Future, I would include Roscoe Dash, Travis Porter, Yung L.A., and even some earlier B.O.B. on the list of Post-Future sound's Atlanta-based founding fathers.

I don't know if Ratchet would be a reasonably close label for the sound or not. There are some but not all elements of this DJ Mustard-popularized style in Future, Migos, and Young Thug. When used to describe the sound Mustard has popularized, the term "Ratchet" is usually directed mostly at the production style anyways. The trend that Future appears to have started is more lyrically driven, both from a textural and rhythmic standpoint. He has spread it across various styles of production.
Just what does the Future hold for rap in the ATL?

So Atlanta's burgeoning new sound needs a name...and for now I'm calling it "Post-Future." It's electronic, choppy, semi-autotuned/vocoded, punchy, melodic, whiny, catchy, and hook-ready. It's Post-Future, and endlessly fun to listen to. Turn Up!

P.S. I recommend this article from Grantland. It discusses the current state of rap and where Future fits into rap's future.

Monday, January 13, 2014

K.R.I.T. Never Kills My Vibe


"Down and Out" off 4EvaNaDay came on shuffle in my truck today and I was reminded once again why Big K.R.I.T. remains my favorite southern rapper since Outkast, Ludacris, Clifford Harris, and No-Longer-Young Jeezy were in their prime. After listening to the track for a minute or so I switched to my favorite track off that mixtape, "4EvaNaDay (Theme)." It's my favorite because it doesn't even need lyrics and it might still be my favorite track. The crooning female sample that opens accompanied by a vibrant intermingling of hi hats and snares is intoxicating. "They said it couldn't be forevaaa, wouldn't be forevaaa, the grain ain't enough you gotta mix it with the leathaaa..." is simply the vocal cherry on top. I ended up taking the iPod off shuffle and keeping it on the mixtape. The summer soundtrack of 2 summers ago that brought me joy and helped me mentally escape at times from a difficult period of my life after a long relationship ended, 4EvaNaDay is brilliant as a whole. Other gems include "Country Rap Tunes" (a simple yet sensational ode to the south) and "Red Eye" (a beautiful illustration of the tenuous nature of a romance that has potential but just can't get off the ground) The entire thing is, as always, produced by K.R.I.T. himself and is as musically rich as mixtapes (or albums for that matter) come. The tracks stir emotions ranging from utter euphoria to sorrow and everything in between.

This is how much of K.R.I.T.'s production makes me feel. Excited and relaxed at the same time; happy, and like I'm somewhere deep in Mississippi next to a Lake in a box chevy pulling up to a cook out. He has perfected his craft. His beats squeak like the wheels of a rusty bike and churn like Grandma's butter. I don't think you can truly appreciate his music if you didn't grow up somewhere in the south. Listening to K.R.I.T. brings to mind a lot of the usual imagery that rap music does, yet at the same time it reminds me of walking down to fish at my great grandmother's pond in the woods of Marietta. The fact that this combination of imagery is possible is astounding.

I was first introduced to K.R.I.T. by my friend Will right after Krit Wuz Here came out, and I found "Children of the World" to be mesmerizing thematically and sonically. After that, it was "Voices" that ultimately sold me on the idea that this Meridian, Mississippi native was the future of southern rap: (lines below at the 2:36 mark)



Lately I been feelin like f*** it / heaven's in my face but Lord knows I can't touch it
Plus I heard the angel wings was kinda heavy / scared to put em on my back so I threw em on the Chevy
Death knocking on my door I can get it / looking through the peephole in case I ain't ready
F*** this rap s*** yeah I said it / on a road to the riches ain't no telling where I'm headed

These lines drift over a chilling combination of choral voices and chimes and leave a lasting impact on me every time I listen to the song. I could listen to that sequence on loop for hours. K.R.I.T. has a unique ability to paint a complete picture of life. The good, the bad, the spiritual, the painful, the wonderful, the shameful, the inspiring.

I found the YouTube video below tonight as I was pondering the tracks I ran into earlier today, and though it is old and fairly nondescript, watching it made me smile. Though he just performs a couple tracks live on Sway's radio show, K.R.I.T.'s ever-present earnestness is on display as always. Being pretentious or disingenuous have simply never been part of Justin Scott's existence. He is smart and savvy, yet humble and appreciative of the moment. Sounds a bit like his music doesn't it. I appreciate how much he seems to truly enjoy having the opportunity to perform his beloved work. Watching him perform it live reminds me that he is not just a great producer, but also a deft lyricist. Though he's not the technician of a Kendrick Lamar, he has a snappiness to his words that blends well with his slow overly southern drawl. It's a unique and addictive voice. He forcefully punches certain words out while leaning into others. Take for example one of my all time favorite lines of his, from Country Rap Tunes, delivered at the 5:18 mark of the following video:


Spread the word I flip birds like birds get flipped by dope boys that park rims on the curb

Smart sound repetition in creatively sequenced syllabic bursts are essentially what keep me coming back for more when it comes to rap music. This moment is a textbook example of the types of lyrical sequences that I can just listen to on loop and recite at random moments throughout the day without ever tiring of them.

I had the opportunity to see Big K.R.I.T. at Cat's Cradle in Carborro, NC in the fall of 2012. He closed out the show with "I Got This," and for those three minutes I and about 400 others were freed from all reality just engulfed by probably the most rambunctious track off of Live From The Underground, K.R.I.T.'s major label debut. Those moments in life are simply great. I think many times what we ultimately want out of art is for it to allow us to forget about anything else in life for a moment and just enjoy an expression of indescribable humanity. K.R.I.T.'s art allows its listeners to do that. After the show ended, he stayed on stage for a good half an hour signing autographs and taking pictures with any fans who asked. Walking out of Cat's cradle with my friend Ben, I even asked one of K.R.I.T.'s homeboys who was walking out to the tour bus carrying some of K.R.I.T.'s belongings, if I could have the wooden Multi Alumni chain he had worn on stage. He simply said no. Still, I couldn't help but think that there are plenty of successful musicians who would not be as gracious or as approachable to their fans.

The man put every ounce of energy he had into the show that went on for well over an hour and a half.

If I ever got a chance to sit down with Justin Scott I would first thank him for all the ways his music has touched and inspired and excited me. I would then ask why he, like so many others in this genre, fails to exclude misogyny and an over-emphasis on a hyper-masculinized view of sexuality from his music. My guess is that he would say he recognizes it as an unfortunate aspect of life in some circles (particularly those originating in poverty) and therefore feels it necessary to include and embrace it in his music to keep it authentic to the culture. But I do feel that he over-endorses it, and goes beyond analyzing it artistically. Particularly in songs like "What U Mean," I feel he sells himself short creatively. Especially considering that in my opinion, K.R.I.T. essentially approaches all of the other stereotypical "sins" of the rap genre (money, drugs, crime) from a perspective of wise contemplation and criticism.

But no music is perfect, and that's ultimately the beauty of music. The beauty of K.R.I.T.'s is that he nearly perfectly engages all of life's imperfections. The cover of 4EvaNaDay is appropriate in its depiction of his music's juxtapositions. And he does it all through a deeply spiritual lens with Christian roots that I can appreciate as a theological thinker. I look forward to what his second major label project, Cadillactica has in store for all of us listeners. I was a little disappointed to discover it will be his first project featuring guest producers, but I imagine he at least worked alongside them as he has always been one to want his fingerprints all over his work.

Until then, I'm gonna keep vibing to Krit Wuz Here, 4EvaNaDay, and The Great Southern Hope's many other outstanding projects. Perhaps he will in fact end up a King Remembered In Time.