I’ve been Swamp Thing here at the lab, and also busy challenging interesting statements, like whether Beyonce is among the best songwriters of her generation, on other blogs. A futile endeavor, but time killing all the same.
And I’ve been dunking my head in the hip-hop apple-bobbing contest a month early. The new Method Man, the new Outkast, the new Roots. Viva the shady CD spot on Canal street. And the winner is:
The Roots’ newest, Game Theory, hasn’t bored me yet, which, after a week, is a lot longer than their last few stuck on me. Illadelph Halflife lasted maybe an afternoon.
But this is the real. A shout out to Jay Dee, some perfectly placed guests, and sharp, quicker couplets from Black Thought. And there’s something about ?uestlove’s drums that sounds more right, as if someone finally produced him well, or the rest of the band caught up.
I’m posting tracks that have already been all over the blogosphere, but hey, if you came here first, enjoy.
The Roots — Here I Come
The Roots – Game Theory (dammit, what is that sample? Shadow used it on Entroducing)
5 thoughts on “Black Thought: Definition of War. Born in South Philly on a Cement Floor.”
Mr. Parnell:>>What do you do when the tv is on, Shakira is shaking her hips, and your significant other casually asks, “Do you think she is pretty?”
I leave the room immediately when Shakira comes on the television. >>But if I was caught unawares, here are a few things I’ve done or said in similar situations with Mrs. Parnell:>>The honest:>“Yup.”>>The lie:>“Absolutely not. I’m gay.”>>The categorical:>“Yes, but in a non-biodegradable way.”>>The extreme truth:>“Can I masturbate now?”>>The educational:>“Pretty? My Mom is ‘pretty.’ That word really doesn’t enter a man’s mind when they see something like Shakira.”>>The evasive:>“Who’s that? Where’s she from? Do you like her? I love you.”>>The agressive: >“Do you think I’m handsome?”>>The whipped:>“hey, do you wanna go to Williams Sonoma tomorrow morning?”>>The brutal extreme truth:>“I’d leave you in a second if she was naked in my kitchen.”>>The realistic:>“What did I do now?”
Mr. Parnell:>>Yes, I would have made you proud. I smiled, and said, “You are the only pretty girl I have ever known and I love you.” An open lie is often better than a truthful spike. >>And for the record, Shakira could make a guy listen to crap music.
Good work. It’s tough, though, isn’t it? Shakira’s like some sort of robot, what with her hips. Real women would die if they tried it once.>><>And for the record, Shakira could make a guy listen to crap music.<>>>If I’m alone, I solve that with the mute button.
I think the sample is from “Fortune and Fame” by Sly and the Family Stone
Comments are closed.