earl sweatshirt - "hive (prod. matt martians & randomblackdude)"

Sun-Ui Yum December 29, 2013

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.

3. mac miller – watching movies with the sound off

While I’m sure most hip-hop fans aren’t exactly ruing the day that Mac Miller exchanged high school party songs for hazed-out alternative hip-hop, there’s something to be said for Mac’s past. The time he’s been spending hanging out with rappers like Ab-Soul has certainly been rubbing off on Mac lyrically – his rhyming’s shifted to dense and drifting, just like Soulo’s is. But his time making white-girl-wasted anthems has also given Mac a couple one-ups on the competition. For one, he’s capable of letting his rhyming descend into deep wordplay, letting his syllables dictate the rhythm and pacing, while still keeping a tight hold on his listeners with his almost melodic voice control. And another: even post-re-invention, Mac isn’t just another psychedelics-driven experimental rapper more interested in his words than his music, because he’s equipped with a decent set of pipes that he’s not afraid to exercise (“Objects in the Mirror” would be a good stand-alone downbeat song in the mold of tourmates The Internet even if it wasn’t from a rapper). And while Mac sometimes loses himself in whatever weird (and excellent!) musical niche he’s created for himself (Watching Movies With the Sound Off is at least three or four songs too long), it’s hard to deny that he’s a) talented, and b) got a very, very good ear for what makes good music. It’s certainly uncharted territory for Mac both in terms of the music he’s making and the career reinvention he’s undergoing (even Asher Roth never got quite this weird), but so far he’s pulling it off with aplomb.

On “S.D.S.” he’s setting up Biblical metaphors to be juxtaposed aside inanities like the song’s very own hook, murmuring, “Ain’t no party like aristocratic party.” The Action Bronson-assisted “Red Dot Music” sees Mac matching the master of non sequiturs at his art more than ably just a few songs before he goes bar-for-bar alongside Jay Electronica. And even with his newfound ability to rap (seriously, he can fucking rap now) under his arm and an impressive supporting cast (Odd Future, Black Hippy, and Flying Lotus seem pretty sold at the least) behind him, Mac’s still laying out his problems on a musical carpet a lot more compellingly than rappers like Drake or Earl did on their respective albums. He’s alternately existential (“But I’m ready for it all to end, die before tomorrow’s trend/Your life, it all depends on dollars spent and knowledge gained”, “Aquarium”) and self-questioning (“Will he recognize his son when he hears my voice?/I put this music against my life, I think I fear the choice”, “The Star Room”) without ringing false. Watching Movies is just the crowning achievement of a remarkable year for Mac Miller. Just a year ago, he was the guy who was getting sued by Lord Finesse for a mixtape sample and the guy behind aggressively-stereotypical music in fraternities across the country. Now he’s a rapper, producer, and performer extraordinaire making excellent, occasionally brilliant music. How things change.

3. earl sweatshirt – “hive feat. vince staples (prod. matt martians & randomblackdude)”

“Hive” doesn’t really move along as much as it slithers, and it’s not so much menacing as it is ominous. It’s dark and foreboding but it hardly sits back; it’s constantly thrusting forward, jerking along. Earl’s certainly up for the challenge: for once, his growl is elevated above whatever sonic landscape he’s rapping on top of, and to phenomenal effect. The first verse, especially, is a technical dream: “Crack-a-lackin’ like snap, crackle, poppin your ammo off.” Earl rapping “Breaking news, death’s less important when the Lakers lose” is a far more compelling condemnation of the media than most of Kanye’s raging, and who’d think to flaunt their rawness by comparing themselves to a “skinned kneecap on the blacktop”? Sometimes it’s easy to forget just how talented Earl is, but not when he’s snaring the gloom and hopelessness of Los Angeles (”From a city that’s recession-hit/With stress niggas could flex metal with, peddle to rake pennies in”) as adeptly as he is here. As he puts it: “the description doesn’t fit if not a synonym of menace.”

But even if the song’s practically made for Earl, make no mistake: the real highlight is Vince Staples. It’s hard to imagine Earl’s legs swept out from under him after his two cents, but Vince’s turn is a show-stealer if I’ve ever heard one. While Earl derives his menace from his gravelly voice and Vince’s fellow Cutthroat Boyz members draw theirs from their barely-contained snarls, Vince adopts a different tactic. It’s hard to explain the presence that Vince’s high-pitched drawl has, or what exactly it’s composed of – he’s confident and sounds like he’s on the verge of “unhinged” – but that’s not exactly it. It’s the composure of a mob boss versus that of a one-off criminal, maybe. But whatever it is, Vince is capable of slowing his pace to a deliberate trot without ceding any of it, and across his sixteen he rips whatever Earl contributed to pieces. His first, direct line establishes exactly what grounds we’re working off of (“Quit with all that tough talk, bruh, we know you niggas ain’t about shit”) before sending off a barrage of threats, chest-puffers, and Californians-only references. When Vince remarks almost offhandedly that “I’m ready to kill, so test it, all my weapons is real,” there’s not too much left to question – not that you would be. This is the type of verse that makes careers.

4. earl sweatshirt - doris//kanye west - "new slaves (prod. lots of people)"

Sun-Ui Yum December 28, 2013

4. earl sweatshirt – doris

There are a lot of problems with Earl Sweatshirt’s return to the music scene: he lets himself get buffeted around by Domo Genesis and Vince Staples, he’s lost the tongue-in-cheek defiance that laced Earl, his voice is locked into a singular monotone pitch. But even given his unfortunate habit to mutter and drawl the majority of his verses, Doris still provides an incredible snapshot into the life of The Internet’s Prodigal Son. Earl was brought to fame by the Internet in a way that very few other celebrities have been – and most pointedly, he missed his own rise, having not made his return from Samoa until he’d already become the subject of a massive Internet movement (Free Earl). Earl’s an immensely talented artist (really, he makes golden children like Joey Bada$$ look comparatively amateurish) that hasn’t really gotten it all together yet, and Doris is a way for us to watch as he puts it all together. He’ll let Domo walk all over him on “20 Wave Caps” and just sit back as Tyler, The Creator turns his own song (“Sasquatch”) into a Wolf leftover, and then he’ll spring a masterpiece like “Sunday” or “Chum” on us. Part of the thrill is watching as spectators, knowing that brilliance is within reach, anticipating the next flash of transcendence. Earl’s an imperfect artist, and Doris is a reflection of that state as much as it’s a reflection of his anger, despair, and rebelliousness.

4. kanye west – “new slaves (prod. lots of people)”

“New Slaves” might encapsulate Yeezus and its attitude better than anything else on the album or anything Kanye West might say. It rattles into action with a slow buzzsaw synth quickly drowned out by distorted, unintelligible layered prattling before the first lines even hit acapella. Kanye and Co. are twisting familiar choir samples into the backing for a soundscape far more aggressive and cutting than anything we’d been used to as a fanbase – and if the cold synths weren’t a good enough indication of Kanye’s newfound anger, well, the second verse probably did the trick. That is, if you can even call it a verse, as it’s a mash of repeated lines and increasingly accusatory one-liners (like the now iconic “fuck you and your corporations, y’all niggas can’t control me”). It’s unclear how much of what Kanye is saying is actually factually correct (I’m pretty sure you can read and sign contracts, Kanye), logical (up for debate whether the DEA and the CCA are actually teaming up), or justifiable (there’s a whole ‘nother discussion to be had about the hypocrisy stretched across “New Slaves”). But forget all of that for a second, and recognize that this might be the bluntest and stripped-down Kanye has ever been, especially as he descends into particular madness towards the end of the second verse. This is the song from Yeezus that’ll stand the test of time.

And we haven’t even talked about that outro. That outro.

6. tyler, the creator - wolf//roc marciano - "the sacrifice (prod. madlib)"

Sun-Ui Yum December 25, 2013

6. tyler, the creator – wolf

It’s hard to define the change Tyler, The Creator has gone through this year as a “transformation,” because he’s still retained many of the elements that vaulted him to fame in 2011 with “Yonkers” and Bastard: he’s still bitingly sarcastic, prone to emotional outbursts, and hardly afraid of the controversial. It’s like watching a ten-year-old mind loose in the body of an immensely talented twenty-year-old. But since his days as parent-adversary and troubled-role-model, Tyler has made massive steps forward as an artist. He’s relying less on the Eminem-esque shock value of his lyrics, and instead taking advantage of his unique skill set as a producer/rapper. It might sound like a disadvantage that Tyler never formally learned how to play a musical instrument, but it’s certainly playing to his strengths now; the types of chord progressions he’s using in his music are jazzy, funky, and like nothing else in hip-hop. Wolf is the most mature piece of music Tyler has ever made, and the straight-out-my-basement homespun sound of Odd Future’s earlier music has evolved into something more distinct and polished. It’s a concept album, but the story isn’t what carries the album – in fact, several of the best songs off Wolf (like Tyler’s interpolation of Eminem’s “Stan”, “Colossus”) don’t even fit into the narrative. Instead, it’s Tyler’s charisma: even beyond the steps he’s taken as a rapper, and even without the violence that laced most of his earlier songs, Tyler’s growl is gripping. This is an artist coming into his own.

6. roc marciano – “the sacrifice (prod. madlib)”

The sample driving “The Sacrifice” forward doesn’t waste any time sputtering to a start like a ‘90s RZA loop, it jerks right into action. It’s uncharacteristically soulful for a Roc Marciano backdrop, but that’s a role Madlib’s been providing for Freddie Gibbs lately too, so no surprises there. It’s also not a surprise that Roc is just as sharp lyrically as he’s been on virtually every single song he’s ever made; who else can rap about the same things over and over on every song so consistently while mixing it up just enough to be interesting every time? What is surprising, though, is how well all the elements of this song come together. The eight-note bassline, the loop drifting in and out of audible range, the shrill trumpet notes dancing into the beat every few measures. It’s all impeccably polished (for a rapper who revels in the grittiness of New York, that’s a nice change), and very soulful material. Who else you know pulling out lines like “My main ho, cop me the Range Ro’, she say no/I need one for every color in the rainbow”?

11. vince staples - stolen youth//tyler, the creator - "rusty (prod. tyler, the creator)"

Sun-Ui Yum December 20, 2013

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.