by John Bear
Daily Lobo
I love hip-hop music. But I hate hip-hop kids.
This is because 99 percent of the fans of this music think they are somehow set-tripping gang bangers as soon as they set foot inside a show. They grimace, snarl and swagger around the floor of the club, starting shoving matches every 30 seconds or so.
Needless to say, whenever a dope rapper comes through town, I usually stay home.
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Talib Kweli feels the same way. At one of the few rap shows I chose to attend, Kweli was in the middle of a song when two Fubu-clad knuckleheads in the crowd began to tussle. He turned around to the DJ, and with a quick swipe of his hand across his throat, the room suddenly turned eerily silent.
"Hey, you two," he said, pointing at the shove brawlers. "No fighting at my show."
Less than two seconds passed and he resumed his song at the exact word where he left off. I stood there, mesmerized.
And it is for this reason that I have always been a Talib Kweli fan, even if I have never given any of his albums much more than a perfunctory listen.
But his latest effort, Right About Now: The Official Sucka Free Mixtape is bringing me to the flock.
"Right About Now" starts things off with a congo-heavy drum line that adds a little rhythm that is for one reason or another usually absent from hip-hop beats. I don't know why, but the average indie rap beat, while often head-bang inducing, is not normally ass-shake friendly. The first time I heard this song, I was barely able to keep my posterior still, which is amazing as my dance movements are noted for their robotic qualities.
The song also features Dave Chappelle - lordy, it really is Dave. Where have you been? - yelling the hook in his famous Rick James impression. And just for good measure, he lobs a diss at Slim Shady to close out the song. "Where are my snares." Thanks, Dave.
The beat "Drugs, Basketball and Rap" sounds like a lame 50 Cent song as done by a skilled producer. The claps and warbling violin synth initially fooled this listener into thinking perhaps Kweli had begun to go soft and commercial, but the overall illness of the instrumentation clicks into the brain like a safe combination mid song.
The album doesn't overdo the guest MCs, which is nice because sometimes hip-hop solo albums have so many people on them, it seems inaccurate to describe them as "solo." The ones who do show up drop ill verses and add to the overall appeal of the album. Omnipresent indie powerhouse MF Doom shows up to drop some guest vocals on "Fly That Knot," and former Blackstar teammate Mos Def does his thing on "Supreme Supreme." Jean Grae, the best female MC - excepting way underground MC What What, but who knows where she has been lately - shows her prowess on "Where You Gonna Run." Kweli definitely put some thought into the guest vocals. They all shine.
Kweli's voice seems to be going through a metamorphosis. On some of the tracks his characteristically soft, lilting voice gains a graininess that is reminiscent of Canibus but with a vastly superior technique. Other times he just sounds like himself, suggesting that tracks were recorded at different times, and Kweli, perhaps, had a cold or something.
Strange vocal inconsistencies aside, this album is a banger. I am sorry, Kweli. I promise to start paying more attention.
