Human megaphone Meek Mill takes a break from sobbing like a broken-up boss to offer more adrenaline in MP3 form. “Check” is Meek’s fifth single from Dreams Worth More Than Money and if you’ve been counting, his fiftieth “I’m a Boss” sequel. The thin-voiced rat-a-tat is more music for extreme sports, face-punching and seven figure bank deposits. Essentially, it’s the same as last year’s “FYM” only this time without a hungry Boosie verse. “Check” is a formulaic hustlers ode for those with an insatiable thirst for thumping drums, menacing pianos and minimal ambition. Meek and his cohorts are in the building, counting money and some other stuff he’s told you about before. But it doesn’t matter, Meek Mill is the human Monster Energy Drink. I can’t take it in large doses, but he’s not about to put you to sleep. (Presumably).
Music Video Director Dave Meyers (Missy Elliot, Outkast, Jay Z etc)
Dave Meyers’ frenetic imagination has conjured some of this era’s most recognizable music videos. Active since the 90s, his resume consists of over 200 projects with a genre-spanning list of artists from Jay-Z to Mick Jagger.
A chance meeting with Good Will Hunting filmmaker Gus Van Sant inspired Meyers to pursue videos and he landed his first MTV slot in 1997 with underground Oakland duo The Whoridas. The Californian director’s most iconic work includes eleven of Missy Elliot’s career defining videos as well as visuals for Outkast’s “Bombs Over Baghdad” and “So Fresh, So Clean.” He won a best video Grammy Award in 2005 for Elliot’s “Lose Control” and has also received eleven MTV Awards.
Meyers recently took a three-year sabbatical to pursue film and advertising, but is now diving back into capturing music. During more than an hour of conversation, we discussed a fraction of his filmography and thoughts on industry issues such as lower budgets and product placement. He discussed early interactions with Kanye West, shooting with Nas, making 44 videos in one year and a whole lot more.
Do you think music videos have worth in 2015 or are they in danger of becoming content for content’s sake?
They certainly have regained value for me. I took a three or four year break there and focused on commercials. What I’ve learned with the reach of a music video, especially to it’s fans, is there’s nothing quite like it other than maybe Jurassic Park [laughs]. It’s a very strong connection that artists still maintain with their fans, even more so than ever, because of the way the Internet is. To be part of that and to be a creative entity associated with that is kind of the purpose of filmmaking, or my particular passion. I’ve reached out to all of the folks you’d expect me to reach out to and we’re brewing some cool stuff that is coming our way. You’ll hopefully see some collaboration later this year with Missy [Elliot], Janet [Jackson] and there are a variety of things that might be coming. My passion for videos is alive and well and as I think the artists have sort of gotten used to the lower budgets, the resulting climate is a push for creativity.
A PhD in Worthwhile R&B: The Dream Mixtape
Originally published at Passionweiss
The Dream can’t sing like
Usher or dance like Chris Brown, but the music is better. In a genre harvested
for disposable singles where performers adopt electronica-lite to crossover,
Terius Nash is one of the few doing it differently. His songs are at times
lewd, bitter and self-reflective.
On the Mobb Deep sampling “Cold” from last
year’s Royalty: The Prequel EP,
Nash’s lover dances to his contemporaries and he’s jealous of their audio
seduction. During “Turnt Out,” Dream mentions forgetting to sing in falsetto
and throughout “Lake Michigan” admits to being a jaded ex-romantic. Even
lighter work like “I Luv Your Girl” and “That’s My Shit” aren’t innocent love
songs, but transparent references to Lil Wayne’s relationships with his ex partners.
Among the assembly line ten-packs, The Dream conveys more than cliché. We’re not talking Shakespearean wordplay, but as 90% of mainstream R&B is more worried about consuming a refined carb than music, Dream’s imperfect personality is necessary.
Production is another of the
self-proclaimed Radio Killa’s strengths. When Beyoncé and fellow hit syndicates
aren’t tapping Nash's song writing with partner Tricky Stewart, his most
interesting work stays in house. The majority of Dream's tracks aren't audio
throwaways for a tweenage audience, but compelling finger-snappers.
His
catalogue is an instrumental master class with drums that knock and synths that
trigger your internal dancing machine. Terius’ first three albums
twisted the influence of R&B demigods with simple romantic themes. Later
work is darker and experimental as he hardened his subject matter after two
divorces.
Not shy of exhibiting his influences, Nash is a music student. He’s
paid tribute to R Kelly (“12 Play”), reworked lyrics from Ginuwine (“Ghetto”),
channelled Prince (many tracks) and mimicked MJ (“Michael.”) Dream's also used
enough of the "AY!" ad-lib to make even the most dedicated
regionalist wish they were from Hotlanta.
Although his own influence is yet to
be properly acknowledged, fellow singers undoubtedly pay attention and he's hinted
The Weeknd listened to "Fancy" a bit too closely. Six track EP Crown was released earlier this month
ahead of his July full length Crown Jewel.
As with all Dream projects, there’s some tracks I’ll be listening to in a few
months and some I’ll only return to occasionally. The aforementioned Royalty is the closest he’s come to a
perfectly cohesive project with dynamic production, personal references, no
unnecessary features and the most tasteful Outkast reference in recent memory.
There have been concessions for radio and IV
Play suffered from forced guest spots, but there’s rarely a release that
doesn’t have a baby-making masterpiece.
As someone with a PhD in The Dream's
music, I've listened to his full catalogue and made the below playlist with my
favourite songs. You might want to leave a comment about how a song you like
isn’t featured or turn your nose up at R&B, otherwise you can two step with
the rest of us.
Download Link
Download Link
Big Krit Interview
While entrenched in Southern rap heritage, Big Krit aims to chisel his own path through the polished grill wearers and double-cup sippers. Too smart to be ignorant, too worldly to be preachy, he embraces the challenge of pleasing fickle fans, carrying tradition and promoting the culture of his oft-ignored state Mississippi. The 28 year old is a veteran of the digital era’s exhausting release culture with six mixtapes, two albums and two EPs released since 2010.
Producing and rapping across 200 songs in four years, a sub-plot developed around Krit’s talent. Was he creatively burnt out? Would he make concessions to chase the elusive hit single? Krit’s 2012 Def Jam debut Live From The Underground was decent, but not quite the grand reveal fans expected.
Last November, he finally silenced speculative fears with his sophomore album Cadillactica. Krit outsourced collaborators including Dj Dahi, Raphael Saadiq and Jim Jonsin to share his vision as well as working on expanding his own production universe. The concept record about a planet created by 808 drums showcased a reinvigorated Krit cultivating his introspective lyrics while dabbling further in storytelling, singing and contemporary flows.
Now taking a deserved breather to consider his next move, I asked Krit about his early records, if he’s still chasing commercial success, what draws people to country rap and why he decided to take this album off-planet.
What was your first local hit in Mississippi?
Man, the first record that I did in Mississippi that got played on a radio station was called… ha, “Adidas 1’s in the Club.” It was basically a remake of Crime Mob’s “Stilettos (Pumps),” but we did our own version.
Did you start with a cliché street sound on your very early records before you found your own style?
Oh yeah, definitely, because I was a hardcore Three 6 Mafia fan too. Just a lot of the instrumentation and a lot of the content was extremely aggressive, so it was like more of a shock value thing of just how aggressive and how violent you could be on a song. I was probably like 13 or 14, man, and you grow out of that pretty fast because you grow to the point where you start playing your records for a lot of people that actually know you, older people, and they know damn well that you ain’t living that kind of lifestyle. In the beginning it was just your imagination ran wild on a record, and you could pretty much rap about anything and everything under the sun just to kind of build this superhero character of yourself on record.
Kevin Gates - Pourin The Syrup
Originally published at Passionweiss
Kevin Gates' sexcapades are a double-edged sword, or other phallic object. While shock at his bedroom activities generates publicity, gossip around his personal life often conceals he's among the best rappers working. As I've stated here, here and here, few combine lyrical proficiency and remarkable life-experience like Gates. "Pourin The Syrup" from 2014's Luca Brasi 2 mixtape references his sexual interests in full clarify, providing instant gratification for Chatty Patty’s in your chosen comments section. The Louisianan’s retellings of an unconventional sex life are just a fraction of his audio confessions made of compelling, autobiographical raps.
"Syrup" is filled with enough detail for a full season of The Wire. Gates killed someone at 13. Before fame, drug money ensured he could ride through Baton Rouge's infamous Highland Road with the same Monte Carlo his rap precursor Boosie had. Gates was selling cocaine under roofs equipped with security cameras. He wouldn't give his product to a thief and was shot while attempting to grab the gun. The tear-dropped sex fiend caught an STD and a friend laughed behind his back while he was sleeping with their sister. Over the course of four minutes, Gates has given you more of himself than a dozen Datpiff trap fakers.
The hallucinatory video was released last week and doesn’t glorify drank as an easy crutch for A$AP-inspired cool points. Gate’s purple tinted face appears while he traverses difficult memories with an intense black-eyed stare. It’s probable the tortured rapper uses drank as a therapeutic device rather than a fun accessory. Feverish visuals switch between a vehicle speeding through twilight roads, Gates as a blurred lavender entity and of course, him spilling explicit raps about the dirtiest of sex acts next to a woman he’s rumoured to be seeing in real life.
Gates is smart enough to know how to work the media. If you were looking for lyrics to be shocked by, you’ll find them here. But you’re also witnessing the ascent of singular storyteller putting all of himself on the record.