CONWAY - "COOKED IN HELLS KITCHEN"

I RESPECT THE CAPS-LOCK HUSTLE. It's a good aesthetic in a high-noise environment, like, say, our entire seizure of a culture.

That extends to making rap videos look like early Rob Zombie shorts. Guns and drugs are trivial, rote, mandatory at this point. Throw some dead animals up there, fuck it. The goth chicks are a ham-fisted touch but for the most part this works. Dude is at least as committed to this act at Trent Reznor was. He also raps his ass off.

A couple years back I saw someone toss out "threat-rap" in a thinkpiece that was almost definitely about Chief Keef. It seemed so superfluous at the time, like "drum-beats" or "complaint-blues" -- but when it comes to CONWAY THE MACHINE, well, shit. He's one of the finest purveyors of threat-rap around.

This latest joint is just another brick in the wall, in that sense. Another banger off the conveyor belt. As a sign of things to come, though? This is pretty fucking interesting.

The Interscope Machine has made some Questionable Decisions in recent years -- consider talented nothingburger Logic, who is currently extolling the benefits of seeing a therapist. That's red meat for the blue state crowd, but it doesn't have shit to do with rap music.

In 2017, though, Iovine tentacle Shady Records started pushing the Buffalo brothers, Westside Gunn and Conway. Both of them combine the best aspects of Ghostface and Big L, which is a pretty outstanding recipe. There probably won't be any collaborations with Dido or Skylar Grey in the near future. This is good.

I've talked to a couple rap heads who can't get past the screwface delivery. I can't tell if that's an affectation, a stroke, or a knife wound: I also don't care. It doesn't bother me, especially since my primary communion with rap music is via headphones. Fuck what you look like. Can you spit?

The Buffalo brothers, man, WHOOOOOOOOOO. They can fucking spit. I'm a fan.

THE INBOXXX: "Ain't Shit Funny" - Avenue

Humpasaur "Hump" Jones: It's 2017, and we're bringing back everything, even THE INBOXXX. I used the power of emotional blackmail to get my former rap manager and DJ to join me one more time. Hopefully a lot more times.

DJ Multiple Sex Partners: I couldn't decide if I was humoring you or enabling you, so, yeah. I figured, let's do it.

HJ: Beautiful. Tonight we've got a video from Avenue, who I have never heard of. Whom?

DJ MSP: So not the Avenue who shot himself, right? His brother? Cousin?

HJ: No relation to Troy, according to my sources, bud. He's from Boston and he's done a track with Royce.

DJ MSP: Pretty strange video so far. You don't see people use drugs on camera like this very often.

HJ: Dude can rap, tho. Flow is impeccable. Big L cover band, for sure, but that's not a bad thing. He's a hell of a lot more interesting than Termanology, at least. This beat is tasty as all fuck.

DJ MSP: Yeah, I might actually play this again. We're totally fucking this up. Where is the hate? It says the beat is by someone named Cooking To Kill. That's dope.

HJ: It really seems like I should have fucking heard about this Avenue cat by now, given the proximity. The Boston area is some kind of event horizon deal - tons of talent, no promo. I blame Leedz.

DJ MSP: Yeah, that makes sense. Man, you stay trying to fuck your own career up, huh?

HJ: No comment for the haters. A black and white video of rappers rapping will never get old for me, as long as motherfuckers can actually rap. I give this two thumbs up.

DJ MSP: Pretty sure that shit is copyrighted but sure, that's my vote, too. He should talk about doo-doo pistols more, though. That's my core critique.

HJ: Fuck, that's eloquent. Well said, bud. We'll give this four out of five Lil' Dickys. I don't think anyone has trademarked that.

DISPATCHES: Cthu Lou Speaks

Allow me to remove the mask for a second and say this: I talk a lot of shit and none of it matters.

If any of you artists​ that we feature on RYR happen upon one of these articles in which I discuss you negatively​, remember that. These are just my thoughts at a particular place and time; and from a psychological standpoint one might remark that everything one says corresponds to a state of affairs inside their own head; that everything negative I have to say about somebody's art is rooted in my own self-hatred and inner-turmoil.

If you really want to do what you're trying to do, let me be perfectly clear; the articles and dispatches behind this curtain are all sizzling static distractions​ from your path, floating filigree that will be swallowed in the void. Into the trash it all goes, they say. Do take honest advice, yes, but please do not let anything said here maim you. It is my sincere hope that the the ratio remains one hundred to one of those humored and entertained to those hurt and affected. Talking shit​ is what we do and just because we're good at it, doesn't mean that it means anything.

Locksmith - Sanity

Locksmith is a wicked talented motherfucker. This means he's also one of those rappers whose career is living proof This Rap Shit Ain't a Talent Show. This cat did everything possible to blow up and he's stuck on the same awkward plateau as anyone else in 2017, watching the Interscope Machine strip-mine our entire damn generation. A whole lot of talent competing for the same fanbase these days.

"Blowing Up" is perhaps not even an attainable goal at this point. The era of Rap Stars was mostly an artifact of high school kids with lots of disposable income and very little internet access. That shit is gone for good. So Locksmith grinds, banging out the same death march of radio appearances, podcasts, features, and social media nothings. This is his fourth video now off his latest album. Winning the war for attention spans forces you to balance quality control with the sheer quantity the Spectacle demands.

J Million's work as a director is very Content Producer on LinkedIn. This ain't cinema & it doesn't have to be: this is getting shared on Facebook, not aired on MTV. Everything looks good until Mr. Million starts really turning the lights on, then the framing & design gets kinda "Full Sail graduate," you feel me? You do.

But so what? Locksmith is the whole show, all the cuts are just there to keep the iTards engaged enough to watch. The visual language of a hip hop video has improved a lot since the 90's, but they're also more constrained than ever. Somewhere between Gnarls Barkley going global and Future dropping Dirty Sprite 2, ink suspension effects have become as mandatory as slow-motion smoke shots or, you know, women on camera.

Or, you know, hooks. Rappers do hooks because we think we have to. "Sanity" is a perfect example. Thirty seconds of dude chanting "I Got This Feeling" is beautiful cynicism, a stripped-down joke about the state of arena-rap like G-Eazy or Drake. The fact it is absolutely not intended that way only makes it funnier. Hits evoke feelings, usually some consumer striver aspiration-rap, which is cheap, sad horseshit. "Sanity" is something different.

Specifically, it's a mixed-race emcee busting bars about the burden of being half-black, half-Iranian. Not a lot of product placement opportunities here, but then again, Pepsi is getting edgy in 2017 and Social Justice is in. As long as he doesn't go full Lowkey and start making actual diss tracks to Israel, he's got a bright future.

The second verse re-frames the hood jeremiad as a movie about the conflicts of being a black cop and it's classic Locksmith - technically dazzling performance, emotionally charged writing. That whole Grind Time movement set high standards but it also homogenized a semi-international scene. There's always been a huge diversity of styles, but ultimately the audience doesn't change much: a room full of young men who need pop culture references and careful hand gestures to walk them through punchlines & flow patterns. Fuckwits, in other words.

So there's a lot of technically dazzling indie rappers at war for your beautiful eyeballs. Locksmith is unimpeachably real, but that same authenticity limits his horizons. Defending the culture, keeping lyricism alive, honoring your elders: all that shit only sounds good on paper. Hip hop is a death cult with breakdancers. Purists are janitors in a mausoleum.

This video was pretty aight.

Agallah Don Bishop x Duke Westlake ft. Spliff Hemingway & Lil Eto - The Ill Blend

After you abandon a gmail inbox long enough, you feel like an archaeologist. Specifically, an alien archaeologist. How did this ever happen? Who the fuck are these people? It’s not much of an enigma, though: we’re all here to die trying to get famous.

Enter Agallah Don Bishop. He’s big shit. Like most folks who started too soon and wanted too much, he’s changed names a cool dozen times now. His latest incarnation is a lifestyle-branded collaboration with Duke Westlake. Like so many attempts at a second act in American Life, nobody seems to care much.

What a rapping-ass rapping motherfucker does at this point is pretty interesting. You’re stuck down here with the locals acts & has-beens & nobody-faces now, a classic Joseph Campbell Underworld Initiation.

Turns out, Old Boy has lost none of his venom or energy. He comes in chopping right from the jump, but the more you listen, the more you can hear the seams in the stitchwork...there’s just nothing new here. This isn’t a problem, either. 90’s revival aesthetics are hot as balls right now.

The bars keep coming hard and fast and professional, but it’s paint-by-numbers, more remix than resurrection. You could find a couple dozen Agallah verses from the Bush era that sound the same -- and flex the same flow patterns, too. Few of us grow much past 25 years old.

Strangely, there are features.

First up is Spliff Hemingway, who delivers an authentic dose of that East Coast shit. Since kids are pretty simple these days, dude drives the point home by rapping in a damn blizzard. He’s an earnest disciple and a competent student. Hell, a competitive student - at least on this track, he wants it more.

That shit fits nicely, but this Lil Eto shit is fucking weird, period. Sounds like when local autists rush the stage for open mic and make life awkward for everyone. It’s just as much fun to sit through on Youtube. This cat should find some EDM gothcore producers and drop his epic debut LP instead of clogging up perfectly good rap tracks with bullshit like this.

All in all, solid product but I don’t feel fed. “Authenticity” has become an increasingly low standard. At this point, it doesn’t mean a fucking thing. The 90’s sucked. The 90’s deserved to die. Agallah, on the other hand, is probably good for another decade of head-nodding rappity-rap like this.

DISPATCHES: Dizzy Wright & Demrick - Got It Good

Dear whichever of you is speaking first:

Damn, you do got it good. The second I saw that sexy tatted lady paying attention to you, I was instantly jealous. I may have forgot she was a paid (hopefully) actress for a moment, but none the less, I had high hopes for your video; the bass line is super funky, the drums snap and could be a lot worse.

Then, of course, you opened your lie-hole; the usual catalytic event that makes me fly to the edge of my desktop monitor to close out the screen.

Let me explain:

We know you’re aggravated but if the loud doesn't mellow you out, and you're already in an unfavorable situation, why further escalate it by smoking? Am I misinterpreting the chronological order of events? The banging lady with the tats appears aggravated too! But I bet I know, judging from your lyrics, why she hates you so much: you’re too fucking stupid to do or say anything interesting or funny, and getting high probably makes you even dumber. On a positive note, I do like how your flow switches, how you pitter-patter around an original style; but your ornate and, at times, inventive delivery gives us absolutely nothing but a brain dead, popcorn verse about weed and silly, ungrateful hoes to whom you reluctantly give your hard won stacks.

Really though, you should be so lucky to have someone's so smoking hot bullshit to put up with, because if you spit that verse to me I'd pretend like I didn't hear it and then leave the area as soon as possible like I do with kids performing impromptu rap shows at bus stops and train stations. Oh, and is that the money you've acquired pursuant to a drug hustle? Sure it is. Such an integral and interesting aspect of your character should undoubtedly be promoted on the internet where local and federal officials have ready access to evidence showing other forms of your income. I’d say nobody cares because it's all play pretend rap fantasy, but some cops are really fucking stupid and they actually might! But over here at RYR or even the people in the video though? Nah; not even that model … and she's getting paid to act!

In regards to the second guy who raps:

I accidentally sat through one of his sets a month ago because he opened for someone I was there to see. His verses seemed inspired by the Greek god of sleep himself, Hypnos, dropping forgettable, incessant allusions to, surprise, weed and something else I think, maybe, but really, I can't be sure. I've listened to his verse four or five times now and I've earnestly tried to pay attention but keep getting distracted by anything and everything else available to my conscious attention. I would yawn after snorting a bump​ of Walter White's perfect crystal meth formula if Demrick came on right afterwards. If you said I had the choice between getting my urethra swabbed for STDs or sitting through another Kendrick set, I'd have to think about it and can’t at this moment say exactly what choice I would make.

If I didn't know how the game went, I might actually be upset that this video has a few hundred thousand views. But I've seen The Way and know that there is nothing for me there in that fight.

Sometimes it may seem like I hate rap. This, of course, is not true. I've seen the true potential of it exacted from the toil of tireless chaps who have intelligence, heart and vision; and each piece I write I hope is more or less steeped in the underlying eternal truth that the doors to Valhalla are wide open to all, and any may enter at any time.

Underground Rap Hip Hop Music Real Independent Artists Free Music Reviews Live Hot Single Women Buy Now

Well, this is happening. Again.

We aim to be the most egalitarian slaughterhouse online. The email is still YoHumpJones@gmail.com. We're still not here to make friends.

I recently cleared that inbox out - a good three thousand email messages, all in all, and mostly deleted without a glance. This is a fresh start, a forest fire, so take advantage of your good fortune. By making bad decisions. Like submitting your shitty music to us.

THE INBOXXX: "Da Call Out" - Heresy

DJ Multiple Sex Partners: Welcome back to THE INBOXXX. Me and Hump Jones gaze into the abyss and make it look easy. Since I'm incredibly sick of mocking nerd rap, I've taken over for the rest of the month. First up, we've got a video with a whole fucking deal behind it.

Hump Jones: It's about feminism. "A CALCULATED COMBINATION OF STRENGTH AND FEMININITY!"

DJ MSP: Yup. All ladies rap supergroup of artists that...well, that I've never heard of. Although I feel like I'm supposed to know who Monie Love is.

Hump Jones: I know Dominique Larue, she's been putting in work for a long time.

DJ MSP: Bet she doesn't know you, though. "Carolina Dirty" is an interesting name for a rapper, I'm pretty high but I think that might be genius as fuck.

Hump Jones: Could be. It just evokes the bus station in Fayetteville, for me. Opening bars: "Never camouflaged the flow, but I'm military minded / so when it comes to war, Carolina's never blinded" -- and as expected, we're in some 90's rap purist basement party doing DITC tribute mixtapes, just like that.

DJ MSP: That mid-south pocket is all 9th Wonder territory, man. What else were they gonna do? Dominique Larue coming with a more interesting flow pattern here. Starting to notice that a lot of this footage isn't really in focus, which is probably only annoying to me.

Hump Jones: Damn, and all of a sudden someone is rapping more than two syllables! Props to MyVERSE for putting in some work on structure. She gets harder to understand in the second half -- I don't think the drugs could be kicking in this soon.

DJ MSP: If you tell me you can see the footage being out of focus, I'll tell you that she's getting hard to understand.

Hump Jones: Deal, bud. Also, Amen to "FUCK WORLD STAR." Mostly since they never post my videos.

DJ MSP: I feel like I must have seen Monie Love live before and just forgotten about it. Very familiar.

Hump Jones: Very dope, too, best performance here by far. It's probably not a coincidence that she's the most comfortable on camera and the most natural sounding, in terms of delivery. MyVERSE was very "Here is My Rapper Voice," you know?

DJ MSP: I know. Overall, a decent slice of mixtape filler. Good summer song, nothing special.

Hump Jones: My takeaway is "Always close with a Nina Simone quote."

DJ MSP: ...I don't know any Nina Simone quotes.

Can't Be Living in the Past, Yo

So yeah, we're back. That's obviously not a good thing, for anyone.



There have been good releases this year, lots of them. We're not going to cover very many of them here. That's not what this is about. This is about bearing witness to the carnal wreckage of celebrity culture. This is about documenting the End Times.

We're going to insult a lot of people this year, most of them shit-stupid genetic dead ends. That's inevitable in a country as great as America. All of us aspire; most of us are going to be losers. Such is Nature, motherfucker, and such is Life.

No amount of money could make Asher Roth successful. That kind of emergent group intelligence is what makes hip hop great, and make no mistake, brothers and sisters...hip hop is in better shape than ever in 2015. So please, join us in this orgy of Social Media Darwinism.

The inbox, as always, is YoHumpJones@gmail.com and any submission signifies your consent to be covered however we see fit. Know, in your heart of hearts, that we will not be charitable with your unique creative artistry. Know there there is nothing here but an infinite, whirling vortex of sharp objects shaped like nightmares.

We've often been accused of being "haters," but few things could be further from the truth. We're doing this because we love you all. We're doing this because we care enough ... to tell you to stop fucking rapping.

DISPATCHES: "Everything's On Me" - Franz

Many months ago, this video was forwarded to me from the submission folder and I gave it a onceover, didn’t think it was spectacular and forgot about it. Now that the hate is strong again, I’m drawn back to the INBOXXX, if only to give these hunks of space-age internet turds one more listen.

Thus, enter Washington Heights rapper Franz’s “Everything’s On Me”. So let’s party. If everything’s on him, then I’m gonna need a case of Veuve Cliquot and some oxycodone in hopes that it will demagnetize my temporal drive, thus cleansing me of the listens I had to endure to write this fucking critique.

This guy really isn’t a bad rapper at all. He’s also nothing special either. Sometimes he raps a little bit faster, weaving what I’m sure he purports are lyrics into an indecipherable wall of vocal noise; a stylistic choice that I’ve never understood from the top of the rap game all the way down to this dude. He does “go in” at times but not really in this lazy, lethargic video which centers around Franz yammering about what I’m sure is a fabled prosperity from which we can only get the eponymous charitable title.

When I moved further into the armpit of the country back in the early aughts, I found myself dick deep in a culture of high school kids who loved Triple Six Mafia (and other early trap rappers from the south and west), drove nice cars, lived in ridiculously expensive homes and mostly had never worked a day in their lives. As such, everything was generally “on them” in those days. I was just lucky, I guess, but it baffled me; a Black Flag, Wu Tang and Gangstarr fanatic, how anyone could like the obnoxious high hat patterns, the low quality, bass heavy, caveman tapping keyboard production of that trap shit; whose lone topical themes were bodily dismemberment, abusing women and heavy drug and alcohol abuse. I always thought these kids were some sort of what I would now call hipsters, who revelled in the irony of enjoying, quoting and, for even some, poorly attempting to mimic the lifestyle of the cats behind the Triple Six (lots of DUIs, lots of drug arrests back then for those poor players). I’ve only come to respect Three Six recently due to my realization that their sound has almost entirely proliferated the rap genre (shit, Yasin Bey even ripped a trap beat). You can track those early trap, dirty south-Memphis Triple Six tapes all the way back to the early, early nineties.

So, I can’t tell if “U-Dub”, the producer of this masterpiece is, but Franz definitely looks old enough to have heard of Lord Infamous, Three Six and their posse tapes. I bring that up because the loop is just like what I remember old Three Six sounding like; and Project Pat could have definitely held his own against our rapper Franz here, hero of climbing street crossing signs. I wonder if that’s the bat signal for summoning “Everythings On Me” to his yes boys bouncing behind him throughout the video. But in this unbeknownst, trillionth tribute to them North, North boys, we get something much less entertaining than voodoo dolls falling on your bed while hearses circle your house. We get the same old same old but worse. Franz is, ugh … charitable.

God, I’m going to get shot for one of these critiques someday.

THE INBOXXX: "The Purest One" - Conceptz

Humpasaur "Hump" Jones: Welcome to our 2015 Season Kickoff Edition of THE INBOXXX. With me as always is DJ Multiple Sex Partners, currently on summer vacation here in beautiful Vermontistan.

DJ Multiple Sex Partners: No offense, but it's kinda depressing you're still doing this.

HJ: Word, word. So we've got this cat named Conceptz who's submitted a video, and this is going to be painful.

DJ MSP: That's an atrocious rap name. Like calling yourself Wordz. Letterz. Ideaz. Flowz.

HJ: This was absolutely a mistake, I'm sorry.

DJ MSP: We're establishing that this guy spends a healthy portion of his paychecks on adult-sized superhero merchandise.

HJ: Mostly from DC.

DJ MSP: Fuck you for even knowing that. I'm especially disturbed by this obviously beautiful woman with the amateur makeup job and bad lighting. How do you screw up having a beautiful woman on your set?

HJ: I can't advise you on the specifics, but it clearly involves comic books. They keep flashing these shots of attractive women with a panicked, unsafe look in their eyes. You have to wonder what was really going on during this video shoot.

DJ MSP: Do you think his arms would shatter if he fell over?

HJ: I wouldn't want to watch it happen either way. I feel obligated to say this guy is a fucking terrible rapper. Just, nothing there. If this motherfucker even leases a Lamborghini, he could afford more than one light for his big video shoot.

DJ MSP: I can see why you always get pissed when rappers talk about being rich, this apartment is a shithole.

HJ: I'll probably vote for Trump, though.

DJ MSP: All of his friends look and dance exactly like him. I'm guessing those dudes are all related to him, and that poor woman they keep throwing in front of the camera is his older sister doing him a big, big favor. This is all mediocre 90's rap. This is beyond parody. You remember Party Fun Action Committee?

HJ: Fuck, good point. This is someone sitting down writing a mean-spirited joke song about the nerd rap scene as consumer cult.

DJ MSP: That's not really what I was...

HJ: No, I like it, we're gonna end there. Fuck you.