Over the last twenty days of December (and obviously 2013), I’ll be writing about my favorite twenty albums and songs of the year, one a day. Not best. Not most influential. Not most likely to land on a Complex slideshow. Just my favorite, ranked in order.
12. vince staples & larry fisherman – stolen youth
If Shyne Coldchain, Vol. 1 was Vince Staples sliding his demo into a mailbox, the Larry Fisherman/Mac Miller-produced Stolen Youth is the Long Beach rapper kicking down a label exec’s doorway. Vince might take his sweet time snarling out his verses, but his ten-track tape doesn’t waste any time; Mac’s fuzzy vocal samples and taut drums provide a hazy atmosphere that Vince’s sharp rhymes cut right through. The obvious comparison for Vince is Odd Future member and frequent collaborator Earl Sweatshirt – they’ve been working together since the latter blew up back at the start of the decade. But while Earl busies himself by conjuring up twisted threats aimed at various unnamed opponents, often eschewing lyrical themes for the sake of a strong one-liner, Vince is tunnel-vision focused. It’s not that he can’t engage in wordplay: he can, and with the best of them. Vince throws around acute sports references like Pusha T namedrops Ric Flair – “You catch em out the shot gun, that’s Roddy White from fifty yards” on “Back Selling Crack.” It’s just that he’s always inexorably pounding away with a verbal baseball bat at the same themes of black discrimination, wandering, and ultimately, hopelessness. The last couple bars to “Stuck in My Ways”: “25, two strikes, you don’t need a number three/They pull you over, now you nervous cause the heater by the seat.” Vince might well be one of the best rappers to emerge from California in the last few years, but that hasn’t given him any breathing space from the wall he’s backed up against.
12. tyler, the creator – “rusty feat. domo genesis & earl sweatshirt (prod. tyler, the creator)”
I could talk about how Domo Genesis throttles this track with his verse and hook before the other two, more high-profile Odd Future rappers jump on the track (you can practically see Domo’s eyes popping and spittle flying). Or I could talk about the fact that this is one of the most “standard” – slow bassline drowned out by a RZA-esque set of loops and filtered-out drums – but most compelling beats Tyler has ever made. But to anyone who’s heard the song, the real show-stealer is Tyler’s sandwiched verse, no matter the fact that the middle verse is hardly the ideal position to be chest-puffing. He’s scrolling through all the complaints and criticisms and fuck-yous that’ve been leveled at him since he burst onto the scene, knocking them all off one-by-one. At his absolute best, Tyler’s incredibly human – not in the Drake manner, by baring his whole self, but in how he lashes out and retracts into his shell just as you or I might. It’s all about how he comes across, alternating defenses with shots and sliding in triumphant crows. Tyler’s defending himself in perfect Tyler manner: with striking points (“The fuck am I saying? Tyler’s not even a violent name/About as threatening as stained windbreakers in hurricanes”) with the usual palette of expletives scattered across. Towards the end, he ponders, “‘Analog’ fans are getting sick of the rape/All the ‘Tron Cat’ fans are getting sick of the lakes/But what about me, bitch? I’m getting sick of complaints.” He’s got a good fucking point. Tyler deserves plaudits for being gutsy enough to even pose the question in the middle of one of his songs, and outright applause for doing it so skillfully and powerfully.