Jamaican-Born Emcee Ready to Shine
8:00PM ET August 23rd, 2010
Contributor : Mathis Bauchner
A Rocky Williform Company

Rapper J Star isn’t an easy man to pigeonhole. Jamaican by birth but raised primarily in Detroit and Canada, this aspiring emcee uses his nomadic background to fuel a diverse musical sound. He spent time as an actor as well, but considers rapping his true calling. With streetwise tracks such as “So I Grind” alongside the female-friendly single “YouTube Girl,” J Star refuses to limit himself to one lyrical lane. Fresh off the plane from a show in his native country, J Star sat down with HipHipBlog to discuss his musical heritage, his favorite emcees, and how he plans to take the industry by storm in 2010.

What sparked your initial interest in music?
I grew up right next to a studio when I was in Jamaica and I was always that kid that was dancing or doing something. So from a young age I just fell in love with it. I love entertaining people, seeing people have joy, or just some kind of emotion off what you’re doing. I was always attracted to that for some reason.

What do you think has contributed to the diversity of your sound?
I think it’s just part of me growing up in a lot of different places. Pops was a rolling stone, so I just rolled, whether it was Toronto, I was there for a couple years, New York, I bounced around a lot. And I always had the Jamaican side of me. You know when I was young. My mom would always listen to a bunch of different things. I just ended up loving music.

When was the moment that you realized music was something you wanted to do professionally?
Really the first time was when I heard one of Jay’s verses. When I was younger, when Reasonable Doubt came out. I was just like, ‘I don’t know how to put the words together, but this is just something that I live,’ you feel me? So the inspiration was way back then.

What other artists have inspired you?
I got to bring it back to Rakim. ‘Cause he was so versatile. He was doing things back then that people are just starting to do now, which is crazy to me. And I can’t forget Big, real inspirational. ‘Cause his Caribbean background is strong, yet he wasn’t born there. And you know who else that I base some of my style off of is Slick Rick. He’s just smooth.

What void in the industry do you see yourself filling?
I feel like I fill that young void of people like myself that can supply and demand, as far as being in business or anywhere in the entertainment industry. ‘Cause there’s a lot of cats that grew up on the block, but that doesn’t mean that they stayed there, and they still get labeled as that, so I feel like I can speak out for that culture.

What can fans expect from you?
They can expect the party. They can expect the pain. They can expect lyrical content. And they can expect, once again, the party, ‘cause it’s always about the party with me. At the same time each track will touch something different. If you don’t like one you can always skip on to the next one. You can also expect some Caribbean in there ‘cause I am Jamaican.

What's coming up next for you?
I got the mixtape coming out I’m still bubbling on. It’s going to be hosted by Ill Will. It’s going to be called What Did You Expect? I got the youtube girl project going on. The DVD’s going to be out in about three months. Utubegirl.net, that’s the site. I’m doing shows in a couple cities, Houston, New Orleans. I might go back to Jamaica ‘cause Jamaica was bananas.

Why We Need Classic Hip Hop FM Stations
06:00PM ET August 23rd, 2010
Contributor: Todd Williams
A Rocky Williform Company

Urban DJ's seem to love Slick Rick's 1988 classic "Children's Story." On almost every hip hop DJ's 'old school mix,' they throw on the legendary storyteller's signature song about a violent kid who meets an untimely end. As a result, virtually everyone, regardless of how young they may be--seems to know the song that starts with the infamous couplet, "Once upon a time/Not long ago/When people wore pajamas/And lived life slow…"

But there was more to Slick Rick's career than "Children's Story." Sadly, hip hop has done a poor job of celebrating legendary figures like Rick and other stars of his era. Even hip-hop's most iconic group, Run-D.M.C., gets more love from younger fans for it's historical importance than for the impressive music it created. It's not because the music isn't good--quite the opposite, actually, the music is great--it's because they've never heard it.

They've never heard it because FM radio has ignored classic hip hop. While classic rock and soul stations abound on FM dials throughout the country, there are little-to-no hip hop stations devoted to playing the music of the 1980s and 1990s. And the end result is a genre that has completely abandoned it's Golden Age. Meanwhile, the legends of other musical genres are celebrated ubiquitously--even amongst hip hop fans. Ask a rap fan about an older, legendary R&B artist for example, and you'll get a very different reaction to their music and legacy than you would a hip hop star of generations past.

Marvin Gaye is 'classic.' Run-D.M.C. is 'old.'

It isn't at all uncommon to see old school R&B stations in the presets of many hip hop heads' car stereos. After all, just because you love Drake or Weezy doesn't mean you can't appreciate Patti Labelle or Luther Vandross. Never mind the fact that most of these listeners are a generation removed from these songs and artists--their parents instilled a love for this music. And their children have carried that love with them all these years later. Classic soul stations serve a variety of purposes; they keep older music alive for younger generations who are too young to have experienced it firsthand, they provide a platform for older artists who want to debut new music or promote current tours, and they give older fans a place on the FM dial to hear the songs that they grew up on.

But for hip hop fans, there isn't anywhere for them to go to hear the songs that shaped their love for the genre. Most cities don't have a major FM station dedicated to classic hip hop; so if an older hip hop fan wants to hear the classic songs of the 1980s and 1990s--there's nowhere for them to turn. And younger fans are robbed of the chance to become more familiar with the artists that rocked the mic before their youthful ears were old enough to appreciate the music.

As a result, the music becomes virtually irrelevant. A kid younger than 25 doesn't know that Jay-Z's "The Ruler's Back" is a rehash of Slick Rick's 1988 song of the same name. Why? Because he's never heard it. Fans don't hear the masterful lyrical skills of vintage Rakim, Kool G Rap and Big Daddy Kane so they never learn to love the music these MCs created and the legacy they forged. Young femcees never hear the brilliance of MC Lyte, Da Brat or Queen Latifah.

Before we just assume that younger people have no interest in hearing these older artists, think of how many of us can sing along with R&B songs that were released before we were born. Think of how many young artists in 2010 are influenced by Prince, Madonna and Michael Jackson--entertainers who's careers were at their peak more than 25 years ago. Those young people love and know these artists because pop culture and mainstream radio has made sure that these artists are celebrated and their music continues to thrive in the hearts and minds of the people.

It's past time that we do the same for hip hop.

Has Hip Hop Entered the 'Post-Hood' Era?
08:00PM ET August 17th, 2010
Contributor: Mathis Bauchner
A Rocky Williform Company

Remember 2003? I know it seems like ages ago, but in February of that year a rapper by the name of 50 Cent released his debut album, Get Rich or Die Tryin’, to the tune of 12 million in worldwide sales. The album was filled with enough gun-touting bravado to appease even the hardest street veteran and 50 transitioned from N.Y. gangster to hip-hop icon in a matter of months. Following in his footsteps were G-Unit members Lloyd Banks, Young Buck, and The Game, who all enjoyed platinum success while sharing 50’s affinity for firearms. Southerners Young Jeezy and Rick Ross both emerged from the shadow of Get Rich or Die Tryin’. And the list goes on and on. Hip-hop’s Guntalk Era had officially begun, with 50 sitting proudly on the throne.

Fast-forward to 2010 and take a good look at rap’s new faces. Let's start with the most successful of the bunch, budding superstar Drake. He’s a biracial Canadian who grew up with his Jewish mother and spent his childhood as an actor on the T.V. series Degrassi. He raps (or sings) about girls, being famous, and little else. He’s never been shot, he’s never shot anyone, and he was too busy collecting acting checks to even consider dealing drugs. Yet the masses have embraced him just as they did 50 Cent seven years ago.

But why?

The answer, in part, is the growing irrelevance of “street cred.” A term long-associated with hip-hop and once upon a time a prerequisite for any rapper looking to crack the Billboard charts. Now, however, listeners couldn’t care less about a bullet-ridden past. Just last week at his concert in Indiana, Drake was joined on stage by none other than Justin Bieber, teen-pop idol and the heartthrob of prepubescent girls the world over. The crowd went absolutely crazy. Could you imagine 50 Cent teaming up with, say, Clay Aiken for a performance circa 2003? Hell no. There would’ve been cries of “50’s gone soft” from Jamaica, Queens to L.A. But Drake decides he’s contracted “Bieber Fever” and no one bats an eye. Why is that exactly? What’s changed? Well, for starters, Drake was never “hard” in the first place. He never claimed to be. He raps about what he knows and does so with enough swag to make even your most casual hip-hop listener’s ears perk up.

Also, audiences today seem much more willing to embrace rappers who choose to collaborate with musicians from other genres. B.o.B worked with Hayley Williams of Paramore and Rivers Cuomo of Weezer on his debut album. The result: two smash hits with “Airplanes” and “Magic.” Kid Cudi perhaps branched out even further, teaming up with indie acts MGMT and Ratatat for songs on his ’09 debut. Like Drake, neither B.o.B nor Cudi spends much time discussing anything resembling the street life. Kid Cudi’s a self-proclaimed stoner, B.o.B loves his guitar, and both rappers have likened themselves to extraterrestrials more often than thugs.

So who’s to blame (or thank) for this shift in hip-hop culture? My answer’s Kanye West, he of the pink polo and Louis Vuitton backpack. A man who arrived not long after 50 with 2004s The College Dropout, an album too good to be ignored, even if he spent a good portion of it making fun of higher education. Kanye did a song with Adam Levine, dedicated another one to his mama, and declared “we all self-conscious, I’m just the first to admit it.” Indeed he was. Kanye made sensitivity cool. He also proved that a shared interest in crime isn’t required when it comes to connecting in the studio. At the end of the day, talent recognizes talent. Kanye’s worked with Jeezy, Game, and other aforementioned Guntalkers, creating a kind of cultural harmony that’s been well received by fans and critics alike.

As Drake so succinctly put it on 2009s “Ignant Sh*t,” 'them hipsters gonna have to get along with them hood n*ggas.' Thanks in large part to Kanye, so far it seems they have. The rap universe no longer revolves around 50 Cent and his nine bullet wounds. The Guntalk Era had ended, and ringtone rap was a flash in the pan. Culturally, hip-hop has expanded, encompassing more types of rappers than ever before, “street cred” be damned. There’s now room for the singers and the stoners, those who spent their teenage years dealing coke and the ones who starred in network T.V. shows. If the initial success of Drake, Kid Cudi, and B.o.B is any indication, hip-hop seems to have found itself three very talented artists to help carry the torch. Things should work out fine, just as long as they don’t all catch the “Fever.”

Trill O.G.
06:00PM ET August 3rd, 2010
Contributor: Todd Williams
A Rocky Williform Company

Rating:

Bun B is focused and Bun B is inspired. The southern rap legend's Trill O.G. stands as an outstanding summation of all that has made the rapper one of the most beloved figures in hardcore hip-hop and a Houston rap godfather. But this third in Bun's Trill... series also finds the rapper willing to take risks.

So most of all, Bun B is ambitious.

The Steve Below-produced opener "Chuuch!!!" is a thumpingly metallic anthem, with a bluesy riff and wailing organ giving the former UGK rhymer's flows a bigger-than-life punch; while his pairing with Autotuned robo-crooner T-Pain would simply be a calculated pop crossover in the hands of almost any other rapper, but Bun's at his most brash and it shows that he can appropriate the tropes of 2010 popular music on his own terms. "Put It Down" features Drake, and the youngster plays off of and pays tribute to the veteran well. Bun B's versatility is best showcased on the R&B-tinged "Ridin' Slow"--a sure smash single featuring a Sean Kingston hook and quad-knocking groove; and on the DJ Premier-produced "Let 'Em Know"--a song that could have just been a pleasant genre-exercise instead is the hardest-hitting song on the album and a masterpiece of a collaboration between the two legends.

The most exhilarating moment on the album is hearing Bun swap verses with the his deceased UGK bandmate Pimp C and a winning archived verse from 2Pac on the infectious "Right Now." The Trey Songz-sung hook is the album's catchiest and the two posthumous appearances are both used perfectly and the moment never feels exploitative. Again, an example of Bun taking an audacious musical approach and turning that risk into rousing success.

Pimp C's ghost is all over the album, with Bun reminding the listener that UGK's legacy and name are very much a part of the spirit and approach of the music. But his willingness to push past his history while simultaneously playing homage to it is the greatest success of Trill O.G., giving Bun his latter-day opus on par with Scarface's The Fix or Raekwon's Only Built 4 Cuban Linx...Pt II and may be the pinnacle of a summer that saw a number of hip-hop veterans (including The Roots and Big Boi) releasing inspired, resurgent albums.