[Wins Again]

Side A:

I'm convinced that rappers think everyone is clairvoyant. "You already know what it is" being a staple of the average rapper's lexicon. First of all, already know what what is, and why do you suspect I already know?

I (already) know that being able to rhyme "Pyrex scale" 50 ways to Sunday takes considerable cognitive skill, but slow down, killer(s); the rest of us are human.

In fact, that obscure and persistent "it" appears to be a catchall term for urban folks in general: When I agreed, yesterday, with my friend Pete (not his real name) that Angel "Lola" Luv's posterior is downright stupid (and not in the good New York way), he either agreed with my casual agreement or simply replied, "That’s what it is." (OK, that was way too Meta—I feel like one of The Game's lyrics.)


Also, why does Jim Jones, who is probably the least hygienic-looking person on the planet, want everybody to smell him? Considering that, I dunno, he's probably the least hygienic-looking person on the planet, wouldn't it be more appropriate if he tidied up a bit before offering the invitation? Just saying, 'cause that’s not nice.

Wait [sniff sniff] I think somebody shitted

(Yes, I do think of shit like this in my spare time. Yes, you should be afraid—very.)

Side B:

Do not they know that brotherly love is sacred?

The best thing about Woody Allen's new movie, Cassandra's Dream, is the people in the audience. For years Woody has been releasing pretentious cinematic "think pieces" that attempt to mix tales of sketchy morality with the sort of slapstick pseudo-intellectual comedy—always with the well-timed Freud reference—that's supposed to make you feel all smart and shit if you actually know what the hell anybody is talking about. (In the row behind me I, really, overheard somebody say "cohesive structure," with what I assume was a straight face. I almost choked on my brevé.) In my life I have never, during the 15-minutes-of-previews pre-cum, heard anything close to that amount of "I should introduce you to my editor" speak. Do not these people know they are walking punch lines, like regular Zane readers or something? Sheesh.

The movie itself wasn't exactly terrible. But I somehow feel like the overall plotline, with its acidic murder-across-the-pond motif, is recycled material, even for a filmmaker who has a propensity to borrow from himself. Not only is Cassandra's vastly inferior to 2006's Match Point (which was also shot in London), but it also brings to mind another much more effective Allen picture about murder and the woes of free will: 1989's criminally underrated Crimes and Misdemeanors. Which, if you think about it, is kind of like listening to a mediocre song that contains a sample of an original recording that is much better than the song you're currently listening to (like, Thank you for reminding me how much you really suck). Which, again, is not to say that Cassandra's essentially sucks. But all things considered, the idea of two brothers committing murder to appease a wealthy relative is kind of stupid—not (for obvious, across-the-pond reasons) in the good New York way.

I'm up. In a Dickensian sort of way.

Is it just me, or is it totally cool that Jimmy McNulty, that loveable Irish lush, is back to his drunken carousing on this fifth and final season of HBO’s "The Wire"? Part of what made Season Three so great, I think, was the camaraderie amongst the detectives, wherein we felt like we were as one when they got wasted, emoted, and ate together. Season Four, while certainly no slouch, had a trial-like, less surefooted feel, finding McNulty trying to finally act like an adult, and Lester, Bunk, and the others all working in different departments. Great to see them more or less under the same roof again.

I must admit that I was late to the David Simon love-in. Sure I caught the show's first episode back in 2002. But for some reason—I think I may have accidentally heard a Smilez and Southstar song that day—the show didn't immediately appeal to me. Thus, I have been sleeping for these past seven years.

Yeah, you can forgive me now.

Dear Mr. Simon,

Thank you for not only inspiring me to re-explore Greek Tragedy, but also for teaching me basic directions—"You up? Yeah, I'm up"—and user-friendly slang such as "shitbird," "fucknuts," and other awesome and inspiring expletives.

P.S. Am I the only one that would love to throw a hot fuck into Detective Greggs?

Another Victory

…But seriously though: You did your thing, pops. | Well, youngblood, I try.

South Carolina (?)

Pop Life

Swiped from my diary:

Thursday, August 23
In the year of our Lord two-thousand-seven
Harlem, NYC

Title: Industry types get all cutesy and whip out their preciouses on the dawn of the epic media clusterfuck that will doubtless be referred to as KANYE V. 50.

Today was…cool. Hectic, but still cool.

So I went to hear the Freeway joint at Island Def Jam with not one red cent in my pocket. But when that ended I had to go pick up a check before the bank closed. No dice. The check-cashing joint had to suffice.

When I appeared at the front desk at the Def Jam offices, an attractive journalist was already there. We both exchanged smiles, as the security guard inquired about whom we were there to see:

"OK. And can you spell that last name?"

"Um…"

"Oh God, it's like, T…"

"I Think it’s Italian or something."

"Yeah, T… Oh wait!—here it is in my phone: T…"

Security Dude: "And you are representing what companies?"

Pretty Journalist (who I'll call Tiffany): "Billboard."

"The FADER."

Then we both exchanged the "Oh really? You don’t say/You’re a writer, too?" glance.

Martin Luther Was a Tutor

Never forget.

WRMS' Dedication to the Bitty

I'm not a one-man woman. Bottom line.

Off the no-bullshit, I forgot exactly how great She's Gotta Have It is. 20+ years later and still slammin' (as we might have said 20+ years ago).

When the Spoonie Gee retrospective is finally finished I'll be sure to hit you with, among other things, an entry on the importance of Spike Lee's early films. But for the meantime, chill regular. (It takes concentration for fresh communication, word to Young Contradiction!)

Anyways [sic], check out this boomin'-ass set (dedicated to the lady pictured above). So fine I'd drink a tub of its bathwater.

Talk to the hat!|…Yeah

Other Nola(s) to check = Dope!

Doin' Dumb Shit

Drunken emails rule:

Subject: Re: NWS
From: Will Dukes
Date: 1/17/08 1:43 AM
To: Mr. Jawnsun

Yo, you know this nigga Cassidy made the most ignorant song EVAR?

I was listening to Don and Von's Lessondary Radio jawn and they played it. That shit got, like, fifty-'leven gunshot sounds on it. LOL. Von was like, "Nigga, you need life insurance just to listen to this shit!"

LOL.

That nigga Cassidy type-weak, yo. Nigga got a nasty little rascal-y-ass voice. Nigga rap like he got a venereal disease*.

*"Pause" not needed on the whole Dice Raw-venereal thing; it's an inside joke.

Party Life

If you don't know why you need to run to this event, you basically need to go suck your mother. Like, seriously.

The Peenus Power lady—"pause"—fried chicken, eccentric modeling bitties? IS THIS EVEN LEGAL?

Between this and the forthcoming House of Yes jam on the 26th, 2008 is basically winning.

UPDATE: Y'all deserve to get killed in the face for not telling me about this last night. Not cool.

When Thugs Cry

Tara with the hilarity:

i was sitting next to some kid on the train. i was peeping his ipod contents since he was shuffling like a motherfucker.

Nas
Mobb Deep
The Game
Avril Lavigne
some more Nas
Notorious B.I.G

So much for my happy endiiiing!

I am so getting into the whole Obama/Bob Johnson thing in a second, dudes. On some breaking it down so that it can forever and consistently be broke.

Jesus.

I'm such a boho.

Former En Vogue Singer Put On Blast

I used to have a crush on Dawn from En Vogue

In an expletive-laden diatribe, Dre Allen, ex-husband of former En Vogue vocalist Dawn Robinson spoke openly of Robinson’s personal business.

MediaTakeOut.com has learned that according to Dre, Dawn was an active swinger who once had sex with 17 men off the internet in a single month.

I hope she had more condoms than

Ishmael Reed On the Clintons

Ma and Pa Clinton Flog Uppity Black Man

Massa, WE SICK

Professor Neal, JShep: I am so ret to go in.

You wait.

Darling Nikki

No homo, but this is pretty much how it feels to read your first published piece

DJ Deckstream
"Five Alarm (Featuring Nikki Jean)" [From the Soundtracks LP]
Manhattan Records
2007

While certainly an asset in many other regards, physical beauty can also be a bit of a liability, not to mention a major distraction. As men, we are willing to give any big butt and smile a pass, even if the girl in question is poison like BBD's first cassette. Having said as much, Nouveau Riche frontwoman Nikki Jean, who just might have the world’s most radiant smile, could have a voice like Tay Zonday after a root canal and your average red-blooded male would still never notice. But as "Five Alarm" thankfully displays, the Minnesota native is quite the formidable songstress.

Over Japanese producer DJ Deckstream’s breezy keys and pretty-eyed flutes, Ms. Jean gets intimate with lines like, "There are smoke and mirrors/But you’re clearer when you’re in my dreams/Walking in the door, I know you came to talk me out my jeans." The vibe here is sultry, with a cozy '80s afterglow suggestive of Promise-era Sade, and, come to think of it, Ms. Jean indeed has a flair for steamy philosophical wine bar noodlings and cool, catchy hooks. But whereas Ms. Adu always had an undercurrent of grief in her smoke-tinted tenor—like a newly acquired blemish that causes one to look more attractive than before—Ms. Jean, rather, possesses a sort of knowing, smiling sanguinity that, despite the song's overall theme of loneliness, is always there on the periphery. When she pleads, "Please come if you can," you feel her desperation, but you also feel her coolness and you know that she'll make it out all right. Maybe because she's so damn fine.

Lupe Accused of Being Bad CEO

You want it to be one way; well, it's the other way

Just as the monstrosity that was Fiascogate looked like it was finally beginning to die down, Atlanta-by-way-of Chicago producer Prolyfic, who contributed beats to Lupe's acclaimed 2006 release Food & Liquor, declared, yesterday evening, that Lupe, CEO of 1st and 15th Entertainment, where Prolyfic and other peons Chicago-area artists have deals, is guilty of neglecting the roster.

The accusation, issued on GO-IN.COM the Okayplayer message boards, comes at a time when Mr. Fiasco has been riding the wave of promotion for his latest effort The Cool, which was released late last winter.

The story goes something like this: Lupe makes a post claiming that 1st and 15th is, among other things, committed to treating its artists like family. The post in question appeared to be aimed at recruiting new artists and was met with a mix of disdain and rampant admiration that is consistent with most online communities.

No biggie. Except, out of nowhere, Prolyfic jumps in, declaring that Lupe, in making such a statement, is worthy of XXL's "Negro Please" award. He then goes on to state that Lupe is unaware of 1st and 15th’s in-house affairs. "All you [knew about] was stuff that pertained to you," said Prolyfic. "You abandoned a [sic] entire group of [people] that broke bread with you and road [sic] with you to the dirt when we had almost nothing."

In other Lupe-related news, the blogger Byran Crawford posted an entry last week, in which he claims to have received an e-mail from a reader possessing information that links the socially conscious rapper to Chicago's notorious Blackstone gang.

Okayplayer post claiming that Lupe Fiasco is a bad CEO

Byron Crawford blog suggesting Lupe's affiliation with the Blackstone gang

# 4080

Amazon.com To Get Sony BMG MP3s

Artist Managers Protest New EMI Regime

EMI is facing the prospect of an artists' revolt, with representatives of major acts Robbie Williams and Coldplay expressing concern at the current state of the company.

Williams' manager, Tim Clark of ie: music, told the London Times that, since Terra Firma's £3.2 billion ($6.3 billion) takeover of EMI in September, the new EMI Group chairman Guy Hands has behaved like a "plantation owner," with the paper reporting Williams was effectively "on strike." High profile artists Radiohead and Paul McCartney have already left EMI in the past year.

YouTube Traffic Surges In '07

Music Server Market Will Help Drive Networked Audio Industry As It Grows To $3.2 Billion

50 Dates

"Well, at least I have a good personality."

"Chinese New Year (The Photo Essay)"

Weekend Update

HOLY SHIT MICK BOOGIE: How come no one bothered to tell us the Cassie record that’s been out, like, forever is so damn HAWT? While the lead single "Me & You" was our entire shit during the summer of ’06, we were totally in the dark about the record’s ‘80s-inspired wall-to-wall goodness (courtesy of super producer Ryan Leslie).

When her follow-up joint drops later this year, we will surely be in line to cop. EARLY.

Speaking of crackheads, DMX must pay a Baltimore woman $1.5 million in penal damages.

The woman, Monica Wayne, sued DMX, who claimed in an article that Wayne raped him during a 2003 stay at a Baltimore hotel room.

Needless to say, the Darkman X failed to appear before the judge.

Hmm. Lady-instigated rape? Is that’s what’s hot in the streets?

The British electronica outfit Goldfrapp is set to digitally release its new single “A & E” February 3.

The song will later be available in stores February 11.

Elsewhere, Panic At the Disco! announces that they have excised the Exclamation point (!) due to irritated fans.

Is anybody else amazed at the fact that Panic At the Disco fans actually know what an exclamation point is?

In closing, can someone hook us up with those leaked episodes of "The Wire"? We are so jonesing.

Husbands and Wives

We think people should mate for life, like pigeons or…Catholics

Jay Electronica
"Girlfriend"
Unreleased
2007

Woe is the rapper who, against all conventional wisdom, falls deeply in love with the notorious Erykah Badu. We have, unfortunately, seen this particular phenomenon occur time and time again and it never ends on a good note. Almost overnight, or so it seems anyway, MCs with fairly conventional oeuvres begin dabbling, first in ‘70s afro-beat, then rock, and before you can yell, “CONTROL YOUR BALLS NIGGA,” you’re literally watching your favorite artist transform into some weird rap version of an Oxygen network talk show host right in front of your eyes. This can’t be life.

One notable exception is Jay Electronica. Any references to his affairs with Erykah Badu have, for the most part, been confined to a few photographs of the couple on his MySpace page. While “Girlfriend” does make mention of his infamous boo—“Girlfriend, I don’t know what you did to me/But it sure feels like something good for me”—it never, fortunately, gives off that henpecked sucker-for-love-ass vibe your boy Common was working to great affect on “Come Close,” which for all intents and purposes is music for people who are mortally afraid of dolphins. Here, instead of simp-ass exhortations on the beauty of his wisdom, Jay keeps it funky over a bass-driven backdrop with lines like, “I’m 27 girl, I need to settle down now/I don’t need to be up in the club chasing the brown round/You don’t need to be up in the streets chasing these clowns down/Let’s say we catch a matinee today/downtown." ATTN: Gangsters don't simp; we settle down.

Addendum: Yo E, if you happen to see this particular post, PEACE QUEEN!

No harm, no foul. But real rap, if this thing with your mans doesn’t work out I’m down to study 120 with you boo. Don’t sleep.

Keep Keep Bouncing

I have never worn these sneakers and I have no desire to wear them—EVAR

Don’t get me wrong: She would still get the woodbird and all. But for the most part I don’t deal with those mini-me broads too tough. (“You only 4'11'" ma? Say word? Like, where’s the rest of you?”) How you gonna be a big strong nigga out in these streets and condone that famz? That’s like saying “Separate Together” is your favorite Tribe record. Isn’t that joint like only three minutes long?

Word to me: I need a five-minute "Midnight"-type jawn…

Took me to his crib where I ran my jibs about mind upliftment and being positive

Yeah, let me go handle that now.
Yes this is cryptic, I know.

Wyclef Accused of Copyright Infringement

Damn right I'm over the Hill

Brooklyn rapper Blahz, born Martell Ellis, filed a lawsuit in Manhattan U.S. District Court accusing Wyclef of sampling his group Blahzay Blahzay’s 1995 hit single “Danger” without permission.

Damn. Looks like L-Boogie wasn't only one on some shiesty shit.

2.macs1clip

"Omigod, did she just swallow that?!"

"…Huh? [right-click-saves]"

Iller Than Albee Square Mall Back In the 9-0

My girlfriend got that snapper between her legs

If you don’t know who Jay Electronica is, you need to get on your deen, ahki. Of late, homie has straight up been murdering the rap game a la Canibus circa 1997. But instead of spaced-out nerd rap, the New Orleans native gets it in with a mixture of blunted emotive poetics and dense, visceral wordplay that touches on topics like the media crucifixion of DMX adversary Michael Vick and the sorrows of his ravished hometown in the wake of Hurricane Katrina.

Since posting an assortment of songs, dramatically referred to as Act I, on his MySpace a couple months ago, Mr. Electrolysis has had the fanboys over at GO-IN.COM in a ceaseless state of frenzy. Supposedly Act II is on its way and slated to come with its own Operating System (you Scuba Steves with the early download hookup get on your Jobs).

In the meantime, here’s Act I. And when you’re done digesting that, check out Jay’s recent interview with Gilles Peterson.



I love hipster chicks almost as much as I love hipster parties.

Va$htie is (apparently) the chick that directed this:



Skateboard P is supposedly getting hind from her.

• Kanye's blog.

Roarrr!

• Jack D just chuuched it.
• Lupe slowly redeeming himself (more on Lu later).
  

Only Built 4 'Cube & Linx…

Thank You (Falettinme Be Mice Efil4zaggin)

It’s a shame that a slew of straight-to-DVD monstrosities have tarnished Ice Cube’s legacy. At the height of his popularity, he was something akin to hip-hop’s Huey P. Newton, Malcolm, and Farrakhan all rolled into one. But following the world-class lyrical ass whooping he received from a dude that would shortly become known for donning some of the gayest gear this side of "Men on Film," the Don Mega 'Cube’s career, as far as rap was concerned, became as inessential as cursive. Next up: poop jokes and cinematic jig-dancing with the kind of openly black also-rans that star in those hilariously named Broadway plays—e.g., “Calvin, When Are You Gonna Come Back and Talk to the Kids?”—along with luminaries like Tiny “Zeus” Lester and Cuba Gooding Sr. (What’s next? You’re gonna tell me that former Black Panther Party leader Bobby Seale is slangin’ barbeque sauce? The Revolution, apparently, will be tenderized!)

Imagine my surprise, considering 'Cube’s pathetic fall from grace, at discovering his brand new single, the incendiary "Gangsta Rap Made Me Do It," totally doesn’t suck. Lethal Injection flow with the diggity-era afro jump-off. Sweet.

Politics as usual:

Gotcha, bitch

Gotcha too, bitch

Yeah bitch, I'm 'bout to get your ass too

What a coincidence—even we got that bitch!

Stop gettin' me!