Return of the Black Panther

If you think I wouldn't barter a pack of smokes to get this sweet retro Black Panther baseball cap from a Mexican day laborer, you're wrong.

GZA The Genius, Pro Tools

It's telling that GZA the Genius decided to name his latest effort, Pro Tools, after the software he used to produce the album. He loses the usual Shaolin elements of fantasy and samurai worship. Instead he sticks to what he does best: nothing flashy, just seemingly effortless flows strung over minimalist, but energetic beats. Where much of mainstream hip hop has been bogged down and bloated with excess, GZA and the members of the Wu-Tang Clan he enlists on the album keep things lean, mean and powerful.

There are no catchy hooks repeated ad nauseum. There are no retro tunes, revamped and amped for the club. What’s left are lyrics that stream seamlessly and belie true intellect and talent.

While examples abound on the album from start to finish, “0% Finance” is perhaps the best. Set against a ridiculously simple guitar and snare beat (with only intermittent interjections of sound effects) GZA flows on an automobile motif for more than four minutes seemingly nonstop.

On the album’s interlude GZA discusses how he once saw a fan sporting a Wu-Tang Clan face tattoo. While he admits its possible there exists another fan out there with G-Unit inked on his face, he doubts it. “I would say [the Wu-Tang] is sort of like a cult following.” Given the swath of aural wasteland hip hop fans are facing these days, it’s not surprising they would latch on to lyricists like GZA with almost spiritual fervor.

GZA isn’t above rapping about the usual material – hood life and hustlin’ – or continuing his beef with G-Unit. On “Paper Plate” he takes aim at 50 Cent, accusing him of being unoriginal: “I get it, you got rich robbing those in the industry/ Bite off this one, steal from your enemy,” and worse calling him out for his GQ cover shot:

“Never try to play the hottest one out ya camp
He might step off and take half the joules from ya amp
Enough to make ya Vogue on that cover of GQ
Only missing the sheer blouse, homey, you see-through.”

The G-Unit/Wu dispute hasn’t gotten much attention as of yet, but considering the talent differential it’s likely G-Unit would prefer it stays that way.

Perhaps hip hop isn’t yet dead. It still has a faint pulse. If you listen to it closely enough you can hear some of the remaining great MC’s, of whom GZA is one of the best.

Shwayze, Shwayze

If Jack Johnson cut a hip hop album it just might sound like Shwayze. The Malibu-based rapper's eponymous debut is filled with laid-back beach beats and party rhymes. The self-proclaimed "only black kid in Malibu" insists his trailer park upbringing (there are trailer parks in Malibu?) and gives him his hip hop bona fides. Given the content of his album, whether he's "hood" enough is probably moot.

Shwayze's producer is Cisco Adler, a guy probably better known for hooking up with Mischa Barton than his work as the frontman of Whitestarr. Adler provides the acoustic hooks for Shwayze's songs giving them their distinct beach party quality.

Shwayze's music occupies a somewhat awkward space in hip hop. It's easy to dismiss it given the MTV reality show, TRL appearance and celebrity jackass producer. But then again, he's not really being asked to be taken seriously. The Cali-style lack of self-importance helps soften the reality that Shwayze and Cisco were probably putting tracks together while Lindsey Lohan and Paris were blowing lines in the room next door.

It's hard to say if Shwayze's album is truly hip hop (probably not), but it's definitely more listenable than most of the other music sporting the same designation these days. Songs like Buzzin' and Corona and Lime may be more suited for the readers of Us Weekly than Vibe, but Shwayze still manages to demonstrate skill and creativity on more tracks than not. Like Jack Johnson, Shwayze's "talent" is debatable, but his enjoyability is not.

It's a bird, it's a plane...It's McCain!

In spite of the unprecedented attention being paid to this year's presidential election I still don't understand some of the attempts to capitalize on the enthusiasm. One of the worst examples is that Kevin Costner movie, which opened in 2,000+ theaters and grossed $6 mil opening weekend. Then comes the news that IDW Publishing, the company behind fan comics like Angel, Transformers and Star Trek, is releasing Presidential Material, two comics based on the biographies of McCain and Obama. Apparently the idea is the comics will introduce younger voters to the candidates' stories, but IDW might be reaching here. While the comics may be generating plenty of buzz in the MSM, it remains to be seen whether it'll translate into any success, either for IDW or the candidates.

Hat Tip to the CS Monitor Blog Chapter and Verse

The Mobama Dunk Low

Do you love change? Do you love rare Nike kicks? It's a good day to be you. Digital artist Virtual Mo has collaborated with Nike Innovation Kitchen to produce the ultra-rare Mobama Dunk Low 2008. As of now there are only two pairs, but there's a good chance a limited release will happen in the near future. According to his web site, Virtual Mo drew his inspiration from Shepard Fairey's (the artist behind OBEY) "HOPE" campaign poster. In addition, the blue, red and white kicks feature Obama's face digitized onto toe box. Sweet. And just for kicks (pun seriously unintended) check out the shirt Mo is rocking in this local news feature on a special Portland limited edition Nike he released in 2005. I guess when he's not designing sneakers Mo moonlights at the Roxbury.

Hat tip to High Snobiety.

Yung Berg, Look What You Made Me

I have to be honest. I think Yung Berg is typical of pretty much everything I dislike about commercial rap these days. His EP featured three versions of his hit single, "Sexy Lady". It's also presumably the foundation of his debut LP, Look What You Made Me along with the equally salacious "The Business" and "Do That There".

I'm not really surprised by what's happened to hip hop in recent years. Every musical genre that's risen to prominence whether it's arena rock or grunge, has eventually succumbed to crass commercialism and empty lyrics. Led Zeppelin gave way to Bon Jovi and now the genre responsible for Notorious B.I.G. is seeing "lyricists" like Yung Berg make their name off songs about bitches, hoes, chains and rims.

That being said, perhaps Yung Berg isn't the worst offender. In an article in MarketWatch he explains, "I titled the album "Look What You Made Me" as a tribute to everybody - my mother, my father, Jay-Z, DMX - all the rappers in the game, who have been a blessing to me whether I know them personally or their music has just touched me." That kind of modesty coupled with Yung Berg's get out the vote efforts hint that maybe something deeper lies behind the flashy, overproduced surface.

If something does, it's not on Look What You Made Me. Yung Berg's misguided to think he's a worthy successor to Biggie and Pac. Just because he technically produces the same kind of music doesn't mean he's their equal. He's hardly even operating in the same realm. More often than not he's regurgitating the same old, same old about "making it rain in the club" and being "a go getta."

If he really wants to profess that "hip hop isn't dead" as he does on "Look What You Made Me" he's going to have to do better than songs that are 50% hook and feature lyrics like "It's a Kodak moment, let me get my camera" and "We can have a little Sex in the City like/You can be Carrie/I'm a be Mr. Bigg/Cause you so fine". Seriously?

2Pac and Notorious weren't beyond preening and pimpin'. They were responsible for "Fuck You Tonight" and "I Get Around" as much as "Juicy" and "Trapped". But their music was about more than the cultivation of a persona. Ultimately that's the main difference between the truly great rappers and the new batch like Yung Berg. The greats promoted their over-the-top gangsta personalities and lifestyles to sell their records, not the other way around.

Mad Men: The Bandwagon Review

I don't want to toot my own horn, but I'm usually pretty good at picking worthwhile TV. My addiction to A Shot of Love and Flavor of Love notwithstanding, I got into shows like The Wire and Deadwood at the ground floor and it gave me a certain sense of pride. But with Mad Men I took my time. I heard plenty of good buzz about it, but it wasn't until I was inundated by ads at every bus stop and subway station and I got a casual recommendation from a girl I was sharing drinks with that I finally took the leap.

In retrospect, it's fitting that a woman and booze got me into the show. The show draws it's inspiration from a bygone era - 1960 to be exact - when men were men, and by men I mean racist and chauvinist all the while passing off as suave. There's a strange appeal to the show that seems to combine nostalgia with voyeurism. When you're watching you find yourself asking, "Could it really be like this?" Laughing at the same jokes that make you thankful for things like the Civil Rights Act.

The men of the show pass the time drinking, smoking, making off-color comments and occasionally thinking of slogans for products good, evil and benign (Lucky Strikes, Nixon, the Relaxeciser). At first they seemed like caricatures, but over time their facades give way to reveal complexity. The women are repressed, but wield power (often sexual) over their husbands and bosses in strange ways. Sooner or later it becomes clear the men are just as repressed, just by different rules.

A scene from last Sunday's episode explains the setting of Mad Men better than anything:
A young man who is coming on to Betsy Draper looks at her and says, "You are so profoundly sad." She responds by saying, "No, it's just my people are Nordic."

The dialogue is brilliant. The series is often surreal and hilarious, but filled with a cast of characters harboring unfulfilled desires. I may be jumping on the series after everyone else has already decided how great it is, but hopefully it will be around for a while longer. That way I can still look smart for watching it now.

Mad Men airs Sundays at @ 10 pm on AMC

Rodrigo y Gabriela

Made it out of the city to Jersey for the All Points West music festival. One of the pleasant surprises for me was Mexico City guitar duo, Rodrigo y Gabriela. I'd heard of the two before, but seeing them live gave me new found appreciation for their music. Even though the rain was really coming down they managed to keep everyone up with a very energetic set. Unfortunately they were followed by Cat Power who made everyone want to slit their wrists. Well, the mood was fun while it lasted.

Conor Oberst, Conor Oberst

At its heart, Conor Oberst's new solo album is about escapism. It would seem unnecessary to most for Conor Oberst to release a "solo" project. He is undeniably the voice of Bright Eyes and the name most associated with the group. Nevertheless he released this self-titled album with Taylor Hollingsworth and Macey Taylor backing him up in place of Mike Mogis and Nate Walcott. Recorded outside of Mexico City it's clear this album wasn't made to indulge Oberst's ego so much as his wanderlust.

Conor Oberst provides a variety of sounds and a myriad of tributes to road-tripping and travel. From the opening, "Cape Canaveral" the listener gets a sense of Oberst's romantic restlessness. From there on it's a mixture of Kerouac, Dylan and twangs of country. All the while Oberst plays on the theme, explicitly stated on "Moab", that "there's nothing that the road can't heal."

As usual, Oberst walks the line between melancholy and cheer. Catchy hooks abound on tracks like "I Don't Want to Die (In the Hospital)" ("Help me get my boots on, help me get my boots on) and "NYC-Gone, Gone" ("Gone, gone from New York City, where you gonna go with a head that empty"). While "Lenders in the Temple" and "Milk Thistle" provide a more pure and mellow brand of angst, the rest of the album finds a balance somewhere in between.

In the end, Oberst has delivered a bittersweet ode to redemptive power of travel. On "Cape Canaveral" Oberst asks, "Hey, hey, hey mother interstate, Can you deliver me from evil?" Given Oberst's love affair with the road, it's hard to say if he found what he was looking for in Mexico. Regardless, he managed to produce a pretty damn good album along the way.

Do Not Give Way to Evil: Photographs of the South Bronx, 1979 - 1987

When you used to hear John Edwards talking about "two Americas" it always evoked Red and Blue states, poor hard-working Appalachians and fat cat oil execs. But if you really want to see evidence of two Americas there's probably no better place than New York City. Just walk your way up Central Park West, past the million dollar penthouses with views of the park, and eventually the street gives way to those who have less and less. and as it does Central Park West becomes Frederick Douglass. Continue North far enough and you'll eventually make it to the South Bronx. In the span of a few miles, a few zip codes, you've actually crossed the border between two separate countries. It's the America on the other side of this boundary that artist Lisa Kahane chronicles in her book Do Not Give Way to Evil: Photographs of the South Bronx, 1979 - 1987.

At the time Kahane took the photographs in Do Not Give Way to Evil the South Bronx could have just as easily been Vietnam. It was ravaged by gangs and riots, and abandoned to rot. In Kahane's essay she mentions that during the 70's the borough averaged 12,000 arson fires a year, more than 30 each day. The conflagration had mostly ended by the time she turned her lens to the neighborhoods of Mott Haven, Melrose, Morrisania, Hunts Point and Crotona Park East. But nobody had really bothered to pick up the pieces and rebuild.

It's tempting to simply describe the photographs as some sort of triumph - smiling faces are set against graffiti scrawled slum walls - or display of true beauty hidden beneath superficial ugliness. But it's hard to take that leap. Life will almost seem vibrant when captured in freeze frame, even more so when juxtaposed against ruins. And photography can often run the risk of telling a skewed anthropological narrative. As many words as a picture is worth, there's still a lot that gets left out.

Of course the text by Kahane and a coterie of other Bronx artists works to fill in those gaps. Their affection for the neighborhoods and the people who inhabit them, as well as their passion to tell the stories behind them is undeniable. At the same time, there seems to be a willingness to paint the destruction chronicled in Do Not Give Way to Evil as bygone, and to let it stay that way. But if you were to take that walk up from Manhattan to the South Bronx, you'd see that desolation is alive and well there. The images from Do Not Give Way to Evil are powerful, not just as reminders of a painful past, but also reminders of our tendency to ignore a painful present.

Do Not Give Way to Evil: Photographs of the South Bronx, powerHouse Books (Aug. 2008)

Obama for State Senate '96

Always working to provide something at the intersection of retro and relevant, Homage has released a new Obama for State Senate '96 T. It's perfect for the politically active with a sense of irony, and even better, a portion of the proceeds from the shirt will go to CARE, a humanitarian organization dedicated to fighting global poverty.