Gark Mavigan - "Bad Combination"

"That's a bad combination." Run that a few times in your head, right here, right now. That's the whole hook. Just picture some white kid saying that, dressed like a rapper, and we're good here.

The remainder of our decade is going to be a continuous wash of Gark Mavigans: earnest but unremarkable white kids with lifestyle brands and money to spend. They're not culture vultures because they're nowhere near the actual corpse of hip hop, which has been dead since December 19th, 2006. They're not sellouts because they were all born like this. Hell, they're not even "wiggers," because saying that constitutes a hate crime in most states.

Something is so pure about his Ramen Aesthetic Indie Hunger, however, that RYR is obligated to pass comment. Gark has tried to do viral video before, but even his bootlicker Starbucks theme hasn't broken five figures yet. That kind of face-first failure has to hurt, after awhile.

He may yet prevail. A well-made video can sell anything: Scientology, 9/11 Truth, The Law of Attraction, Kanye West, or a Children's Crusade to Uganda to murder Joseph Kony by hand. That last one didn't end well, sure, but my point remains. They raised awareness, buddy. They started a conversation.

Yung Gark should perhaps heed the example of Russ, the flawless & vapid Drake understudy I was praising a few weeks back. The first time I ever heard about Russ was from bloggers, who were discussing him only because he said that bloggers no longer matter. Fickle little bitches. That's a closed loop that doesn't involve anyone who bought a ticket on his last tour.

This is as it should be. Critics are broken, animal things, and must live apart from The Fans.

You need to do something more outrageous and memorable than sleepwalking through the same "Walk Around Rapping" template that every other bluntfaced wannabe in your city is going to use this year. Just like every other year. God bless the independent camera guys getting paid, though. Everyone needs to eat, buy new hard drives, and occasionally pay rent.

These Dickies won't help them with any of that. "Bad Combination" is basically Tokyo in the middle of March 1945: burned, flattened, annihilated. Nothing remains. Even the water is dead.