I've heard it said that Grieves is "a little too emo". What the fuck does that even mean? Are we still pretending we don't have feelings? I musta missed the memo. For me, part of becoming the man I should be means being able to understand how I'm feeling, why I'm feeling it, and how to deal with it (rather than getting hammered and breaking some Ikea furniture). Call me gay. Maybe you didn't get the memo about that....shit is played out. One thing I have always respected about Grieves is that he puts it all out there. That takes real courage. It helps that he is talented, and lyrical. Also, this dude puts on a show. So, next time you get a chance to see him perform, do it. Years ago, we shared a conversation (at a Prof show...in Mill Creek. Weird.) We spoke of our love for whisky, particularly the Rye variety, and blonde women from Utah (or Sweden. Take your pick.) Which brings me to my favorite track of his from a few years back:
Now go file your TPS reports. Make sure you use the new cover sheet.
Soooo, I guess it's 2014 now. I did not make a list of resolutions. That would have interfered with my drinking. However, I would like to start posting Hip Hop related things regularly again. Let's start there.
The homies over at SubSoniq Radio just dropped a fresh episode with a FILTHY playlist. Definitely worth checking out. Just click HERE. Download it, stream it, or get the Stitcher Radio app for your phone and subscribe there. If you have listened before, you will recognize a familiar voice that has been absent for quite some time. Gangsta Mittens must have decided to take a break from drinking Mojitos and complaining about her cat's unruly behavior to step up to the mic. As usual, her commentary and track picks are always enjoyable. If you haven't listened before, start. Stay tuned until the end for some outtakes, including a perfect RZA impression by K-Murdock.
Ok. Gotta go sign up for yoga or some shit. It's 2014. I should do something.
You know how sometimes you are at a party, surrounded by people, and then you and a couple other people decide to sneak out to the garage to "do" something? Well, it has been a while for me, but a couple nights ago, that's is exactly what Catch, Benny, and myself did. I know what you're thinking, but there was no smoke or white powder involved. It was something much more pure and enjoyable:
Hi everybody, it's me, BrainSlice. I am alive (reports of my demise were greatly exaggerated. I wasn't stabbed to death in Salt Lake City), even though I haven't been writing. So, back to business.
Every so often, an album comes along and makes me feel something. Not something like "this is good music", more like something I forgot. My childhood, the wonder and excitement of discovering. Losing yourself in the experience, forgetting everything else that is swirling around you in everyday life and just being in the moment. It's more and more difficult to have that these days. Kids, career, bills, ex-wives (yeah, the plural is intentional), injuries, phone notifications, acid flashbacks, vertigo, roosters crowing, dogs shitting in your yard, software updates, empty whisky bottles, laundry, email spam, blood and vomit stains on your shoe, seeds and stems, acid flashbacks..oh wait I already said that. Anyway, when an album does this for me, and I am truly lost, transported somewhere, be it a real or imaginary place, I am content.
One record comes to mind right now:
Guilty Simpson "Dice Game" - yes, I am aware that this one is not new. It's still fresh to me though, and I ain't even trying to impress any of y'all by being the first to write a review or some shit. Fuck that. This album makes me FEEL Detroit. Apollo Brown and Guilty are both masterful, and I get lost in the landscape of the Motor City every time I put it on. Go buy it, because I know your cheap ass didn't already, if you've even listened to it.
A typical October day in the Great Northwest equals: chilly, overcast, and overall dreary. You get used to it, but when you’ve been spoiled by such an amazing summer, it takes a minute to submit to the return of FallInterIng - the three seasons not named “Summer,” that seem to blend together around here. Throw in a case of the Mondays, and one could understand my less than stellar mood today.
Luckily, Jasper T. and John Crown got my back. These two local cats got together a little while ago, and not only made the fusion of folk and hip-hop work on their first collabs, “The Lily” and “Julie,” they straight said “fuck your genres” and killed it on stage together for some full sets I was lucky enough to catch. Somehow, it just works. And their new single, “Broken Singer Blues 2.0” continues the trend: Heartfelt strings, lyrics and vocals flow together nicely over a sick beat…Northwest wizardry, my friends.
Coined “Folk Hop” by its creator, this is the first cut from Jasper’s soon-to-drop remix project, featuring a flood of talented local producers from the likes of Keyboard Kid, DJ Phinnesy, and Trox, who happens to bless the beat on “BSB2.0.” I could drop more names and reasons why you should also be looking forward to The Sweet Dark, Pt. 1 Remix EP, but I don’t need to. Just listen to this song, buy it, and tell Monday to suck it. Peep:
Y'all didn't know....AYCE lives, son!!! In this celebration of blogger life, me and BrainSlice are tradin' lines...take it (literally, line for line). So, Kendrick said somethin'...then Joell said somethin' else...and then B.o.B ('amember him?) replied as well...and then I said "who really gives a shit, because Joe just finally found his balls and moved to the REAL town?"
Yeah, so I'm here fuckers (no not the Internet, I'm actually in the Emerald City), and I have drunk too much vodka, so fuck ya'll; there's lots of good raps going on.
And some not so good ones, too (turn on the radio), but that's neither here nor there...bottom line is that everyone thinks Kendrick did something wrong, or offensive. Stop it.
RAPPERS RAP AND LOTS OF TIMES THEY SAY REALLY DOPE THINGS THAT PEOPLE GET ALL WORKED UP ABOUT WHICH IS WHY RAP IS FUCKING DOPE SO FUCK YOU IF YOU DO NOT LIKE RAP.
Yeah...what he said. Or something. Anyway, we like hip hop, and we like talmbout hip hop...and we not going anywhere. One.
Just as I'm finally recovering from "Post-Concussion Syndrome" (thank you Benny for the diagnosis, later confirmed by my doctor), this week happened. The vertigo is back. Action Bronson / Harry Fraud, Statik Selektah, Prodigy / Alchemist, and MadLib / Quasimoto all have my head swimming. The last few days I've been walking around with a case of the spins. Feels like I took a couple XL bong rips of skunky Colorado green while downing the better part of a fifth of Jack Daniels (Ed's Note: Yes, BrainSlice really does know how that feels.) So, in order to get my bearings back, I will forego further commentary on this RIDICULOUS week in Hip Hop and grab onto something familiar.
"He just walked up and kicked me." My daughter recently had a cast removed from her ankle. She struggled for over a year after injuring a growth plate while in dance class. During that time, many kids at her middle school mocked her, hurling accusations of faking the injury. We had finally diagnosed and fixed the problem, then this little bastard KICKED her. That was it for me. I went to the school, found this hobbit-sized miscreant, and KICKED HIM. As he cried in pain I told him, "Go find your dad, if you have one, and tell that worthless bag of shit he's next."
I made that last part up, but that's what I wanted to do. I try to teach my daughter to rise above the mean and petty masses at her school, and society in general. She's a good kid. No, really she is. I'm not using that phrase like your juvenile probation officer did, or even the way the teachers at school do when they are talking to you at Parent-Teacher Conference, treating you like you are no smarter than your snot-nosed sixth grader that is getting a C minus in Earth Science.
My daughter is kind and sensitive, thoughtful, artistic, and friendly to everyone. So, why did this degenerate little fucker decide to kick her right where she had a cast the previous day? I don't know. I didn't know when I was in middle school either. That shit just happens. Some parents are terrible at their job and should never have been allowed to breath, let alone procreate. They do it anyway, and their demon-spawn carry on the family tradition of being worthless and contributing to the downfall of society.
We had recently watched a documentary called "Bully" together. Afterwards, we discussed what she can do personally to counteract that type of behavior at school. The conversation ranged from what she should do when she is targeted, to what she should do when she sees other kids being victimized. I didn't have all the answers. Some of the children featured in the documentary had committed suicide. Others soldiered on; but only with the support of parents, siblings, and friends. Sadly, the teachers and school administrators weren't much help. They can only keep their eyes on so many kids. There were parents who had lost their children, attempting to raise awareness. Other parents at PTA meetings raised their voices angrily, blaming the school. There were also kids who were smarter and more aware of others' feelings that banded together to help one another.
One thing my little girl took with her after our exchange was that she cannot be silent. It takes strength to counteract the bullying. It takes character and resolve to be aware of, and befriend those who need it the most. She knows she must speak up. Tell friends, parents, and teachers what is going on. Be an example to her peers.
That said, please watch this video by our friends Fearce and Bean, and share it.
If you got anything for us, hit us up here. Whether it's some shit to sample, a request, or whatever, just get at us. We're not responsible for any broken links or other people's mistakes. We just do what we do, so if you find anything offensive: fuck. off. Oh yeah, here's the obligatory "support the artist" message - hey, do what they say, not what they do! One.