« Retrohump Night: Malaria!'s only one | Main | Coachella: Day 1 - Of Montreal, Amy Winehouse, and Arctic Monkeys »
May 03, 2007
Show your notes, snitches
Ladies and gentlemen, Randall Monty
College newspapers, God bless ‘em. I’m not the only writer on this site that can boast of having laid countless hours to waste writing, editing, publishing, and delivering issue after issue of such a publication, only to have the papers spend the next week largely untouched, collecting dust on various dormitory common rooms. Hell, the Student Voice is indirectly responsible for my current life in the Rio Grande Valley. So as dust to dust, I move from paper to paper, from a weekly SU rag to the circadian University of Texas publication, The Daily Texan.
Not to speak too greatly of this site’s influence (I know how much MS hates “the I-word”), but it seems those kooks up north have been bit by the historically-ranking-music-in-an-almost-entirely-arbitrary-manner bug. This past week the staff of the Texan has been counting down their own list of the “Top 25 Modern Rap Albums”. With the exception of the running article’s title, no explanation as to the process involved in making the list is given; for certain, no gmail chat (gchat?) transcript has been included. Judging by the list thus far, “modern” in this instance appears to mean, “since I was in high school”. I don’t want to completely give the staff of the Daily the ol’ Sports Guy treatment, but if you’re gonna make any “best of” claim, particularly when you live in arguably the Live Music Capital of the World, your list should be strong, reasons justified. And yes, the total list is yet to be revealed, but going on what’s already been included, you can just tell that a lot will remain desired, to say the least. That being said, let my cowardly onslaught begin!
The list starts off countdown fashion with numbers 25-21, although not necessarily in that order. The first album on the list is It’s Dark and Hell is Hot by gruffy-sounding DMX. From reasons unsubstantiated, the writer calls DMX “the hip-hop Johnny Cash”. That’s a very Spin-esque claim: the components are familiar, yet it still makes no sense.
Busta Rhymes’s Extinction Level Event: The Final World Front, which makes the list seemingly based solely on its accompanying videos; Lil Wayne’s Tha Carter, Vol 2; Wyclef Jean’s the Carnival (which is implied as being better than the Score); and something called The Big by someone named Big L. Priority, round out this group.
Tuesday’s Daily continues in the uncounted-counting, giving us five more albums to take in. It starts off strong with the MS-fawned Hell Hath No Fury by the Clipse. But then credibility seems to fade as Get Rich or Die Tryin’ by 50 Cent, Get Ya Mind Correct by Paul Wall and Chamillionaire and Common’s Be. Ded Prez is a somewhat surprising addition, but I well reserve judgment on how deserving it is until the last of the list is revealed.
Fifteen through 11 are in proper countdown format, starting with Lupe Fiasco’s debut Food and Liquor. I do really like this album, but I tend to disagree with assertions about a particular artist or album, in effect, “rescuing” a genre. Nine times out of ten, that’s just the writer being lazy. But I’ve heard (read) this sort of claim a number of times with regard to Lupe, but mostly from rock fans. Supreme Clientele follows; I guess that’s going to be the obligatory Ghostface album. Then it’s Big Pun. Better than Ghostface. Hmm.
It’s New Zealand time for the next two, Jay-Z’s fake retirement masterpiece the Black Album and the Talib Kweli / Mos Def hook-up Black Star. Now we’re getting somewhere. One point of contention: when exactly did Jay become the “best rapper of the past decade”? Not that I can provide precise evidence to the contrary, but what is the precise instance of this happening? He was a popular, but not critically acclaimed hip-pop artist, and then next thing I know, P’fork calls The Blueprint the #2 album of the decade and Jay-Z is the new Beatles. What did I miss?
While I don’t necessarily agree with Scarface’s The Fixx filling in at #8, I can understand the sentiment; he’s pretty much the only rap legend from this state. Albums by Nas, Jay-Z, Biggie and 2Pac round out the 1-6 set, none of which, in my opinion, represent the corresponding artists’ best work. There’s an odd time frame being set here, as “modern” keeps inching back in time year by year, placing the new starting point as 1996. Considering that there’s apparently over eleven years to work with, some of the selections on this list are real head scratchers.
Tomorrow I will update with the Daily Texan’s top five.
Posted by Keith O'Brien at May 3, 2007 04:51 PM
Trackback Pings
TrackBack URL for this entry:
http://www.merryswankster.com/movabletype/mt-tb.cgi/896
