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Cmonwealth’s TOP BILLIN’ takes hip hop to the U Street Music Hall’s Temple of Boom with AMAZING results…

26 Mar

Hip hop music made it’s initial foray into U Street Music Hall on Thursday evening as east coast clothing giant Cmonwealth sponsored one of their “Top Billin” events featuring the Missile Command duo of one-half of the Neptunes Chad Hugo, and Bmore’s own and Neptunes tour DJ Hip Hop Dan. Dan is one of the more notable historic DJs to the local underground dance scene, as during his time as an undergrad at the University of Maryland, his otherworldly talents and unique ear for blending disparate musical styles influences individuals like fellow Maryland student at the time Dave Nada to take their DJing craft much more seriously and pursue it further and deeper. It was quite apropos to have sets spun by Dan in the inaugural period of a hall that likely, on many levels wouldn’t exist without his historical influence.

Hip Hop Dan (via http://www.lifelounge.com)

However, the best laid plans often go awry, as was the case last night, as Chad Hugo missed his flight from Miami due to the extenuating circumstances of working with Pharrell on the upcoming Neptunes release. For the average event, this would be a terrible occurrence, but for this particular party, there was a forgotten ace up the sleeves of the event coordinators that turned the night into the most ridiculous event held in the venue’s brief history. Hip Hop Dan opened with a set that, as per usual, recalled DJ AM, as Dan’s seamless, all-star ability to blend top 40 cuts across genres was on display, Maroon 5 and Justin Timberlake seamlessly falling into Young Jeezy, the Clipse (more on them later) and the Neptunes, a cross cultural jaunt that for a VERY hip hop minded audience was the perfect opening set for what was to come.

Yep, that’s Harry Hotter with the Pied Piper of R & B, Robert Sylvester Kelly

Whether you know him as Harry Dixon or Harry Hotter, Harry Hotter is one of the finest DJs on the East coast. The only reason you’re likely unaware of him is that as soon as the underground became a raging maelstrom of party energy, Hotter disappeared from the scene for four years. He re-emerged as a top 40 and grown and sexy cut spinning bottle service club DJ instead of the ravey underground house and rap spinner he was before. His skills and talents on DC’s downtown scene has earned him favor amongst people like R. Kelly and The Clipse. Coincidentally the Newport News trap rappers’ Play Cloths line is sold at Cmonwealth, and due to Cmonwealth’s origin being intrinsically linked with the Star Trak family, it was quite the no brainer that when Hugo was unable to make the party, that Hotter get the call.

What separates Harry Hotter from pretty much every other DJ I know is his mental library of music and his ability to blend that with a note perfect ability to read a crowd. Yes, U Street Music Hall would appear to be the most indie of indie music venues, but Harry turned the Temple of Boom into Park at 14th for the night, throwing down a scintillating mix of mainstream classics including such little known jams as Frighty and Colonel Mite’s “Life is What You Make It,” a reggae toast that I’m fairly sure was a hit nowhere else but DC, where in the spring and summer of 1990, it was completely unavoidable, to club tracks like Cajmere’s “Percoloator” and DJ Class’ “I’m the Shit.” Weaving through Jagged Edge and the Wu Tang Clan and turning the peak hour of the party into a sweaty funk massacre of heaving bodies, Hotter, who spins Saturday night’s Bliss party U Hall debut did what he always does, hearkening back to the summer of 2009’s loft partties thrown by the AV Lifestyle Group, throw down the mix most appropriate to turn that crowd from a sea of Blackberry and murmuring conversation obsessed individuals into a crowd of partiers, Hotter being one of the cities chief ambassadors of a good time.

The clarity and depth of sound at the U Hall, which has been the all star for most of the sets spun at the venue so far, took a backseat last night to maestro selectors who, with the aid of a most excellent soundsystem can play unfettered, and to the utmost of their abilities. Noting that Sam “The Man” Burns, Jess Jubilee, Nick Catchdubs, DJ Ayres and the Trouble and Bass Crew, alongside the rising party smashers of Nouveau Riche are forthcoming to the venue only portents the sweatiest of sweaty nights to come. Yes, the U Hall is hot. Oppressively hot. Sure there’s air conditioning, but you can’t feel it. The star, above ALL else at the Temple of Boom is the music. And when in the hands of people like Hip Hop Dan and Harry Hotter last night, it’s going to be an optimal sonic experience.

Need some Harry Hotter mixes in your life to tide you over until Saturday night’s Bliss at the U Street Music Hall?

Here’s his minimix for Saturday Night’s Bliss event!

Ad if that’s not enough, check his Coolout mix from last summer, STILL one of the kingpin contributions to the local music collection of last year with some of the most creative blends and re-edits you’ll hear anywhere.

And here’s Hip Hop Dan’s latest from January, the “Sort of Like a Dream” mix, taking things in an aurally different direction, with some indie rock mixes that provide in his own words, “a more serene and balanced aural experience. The goal was to create a foggy, dream-like atmosphere, one with few peaks and valleys but instead spongey and shapeless. Sort of like a dream.”

Unforgettable, Vol. 10: N.E.R.D. – In Search Of…

23 Feb



The “Unforgettable” project takes a look at the key and important albums that have come to define the alternative experience. With the deluge of music in the present era, these “unforgettable” and ultra-important gems are lost in the undertow.

“No one ever really dies… You believe that? Well, if not – for you – it’s almost over now.” Where we left off with Justice’s French futuristic opera, we pick up with the album that almost was an electronic eh – but instead became a funk-infused flashback that found more in searching than most others did in attaining. Pharrell “the Imperial Skateboard P” Williams, Chad Hugo, and Shay Haley, better known as N.E.R.D., while on the brink of The Neptunes’ next-level stranglehold on Western radio, retreated to Europe to release their highly anticipated debut album as a trio. Then, as modern lore has it, they recorded the original as an electronic album, decided it was trash (read: American Top 40 Treasure), went back in the studio to record the album with live instruments, and shipped it as a proper international release. In 2010, in the spirit of moving on to the next one: I say we all embark on a similar search (yes, that means you Ke$ha – whatever you mustered up in the studio the first time, no matter what Diddy tells you, doesn’t sound half as great to sober ears: trust).

In search of a senior capstone they took it back to freshman year. In Search Of… is like a high school year book: sex, drugs, rock and roll (where most others had fast-forwarded to the speed, pseudo-synth, and birth control place) – but in a grade nine talent showcase kind of way. From “Provider: “Woke up I had the same clothes on, I had on last night – I must’ve passed out,” to “Baby Doll:” “Roses are red, yellow, and white; where have you been all my life. Violets are blue and I’ll be too, if you leave cuz I just met you,” the album reads like the loose-leaf margins of a Creative Writing class notebook.


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In search of Hip-Hop they went Funk-Alt-Rock. “You can’t be me I’m a rockstar, I’m rhyming on the top of a cop car;” lyrically that could be a Hov/Ice T mash-up, rhythmically it sounded like Limp Bizkit (dbag status notwithstanding) with a bit of Korn thrown in, and a splash of step-up-your-cookies reputability. While Kelis “One with the Brightest Hair” and Pusha “One half of Yeuch!” T played truth or dare, Malice kept em “high like Kurt Cobain: listen.” The standout “Lapdance” is one of the more urban-centric tracks on the album. Heavy on the rap flow and content – the track is a collision course of nwas, and public enemies: “It’s so real, how I feel; it’s this society, that makes a nigga wanna kill. I’m just straight ill, ridin’ my motorcycle down the streets; while the government is soundin’ like strippers to me. They keep sayin’ but I don’t wanna hear it,” and pwt: “When you think of Harvey, think of a Harley; blue denim, spiked wrists and crombie. You can find me drunk, whip it it might crash; or find me chillin with crackers, who like Clash. Find me in court smokin’ that nice grass; burnin’ the flag, all in the name of white trash.” That’s that Benetton-gone-badass kind of harmony you can only find on TruTV, Juvies, high school parking lots – or right here in loud, living, lo-fi sound.

http://www.youtube.com/v/HiG0tcTraGA&hl=en_US&fs=1&color1=0xe1600f&color2=0xfebd01

In search of a studio masterpiece they went live. Williams and Hugo met in high school where P was a drummer and Hugo was a composer – when you can play real instruments: why not? What The Neptunes did magnificently on drum machines and samplers, they were also the rare breed of super-producers who could replicate – and manifest – that sound with acoustics and amplifiers. 808s are great, but compared to the beat of a real drum set – anything else is heartbreak. “You were the heart I owned, the beat just like a metronome; now what the fuck just happened?” “Stay Together,” whether it’s a lady friend or the track you just laid down, if it’s not working: rewind and bring it back.

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In search of the future they went backwards. Why rush the inevitable, it’s coming anyway so enjoy the ride there. When you are the future, you don’t have to concede to the assumed perception. The Neptunes signature sound is sci-fi 2001: A Space Odyssey, why try to top your own cool? N.E.R.D. often plays as the production duo’s alter-ego – for better or worse. N.E.R.D. didn’t go completely anti-electronic, they just eased off the dependency a bit. On tracks like “Tape You” and “Run to the Sun” they effortlessly intertwine synth, samples, and strings to reflect a simplistic but satisfying SoCal state of sound – no more, no less.

In search of nothing at all they stumbled across exactly what the album needed to be. Yes, it was flawed but, even still, it was heads and shoulders above the contemporary sound. Like Hype Williams’ videos, the sound here – the atmosphere – is the sentiment – the concept. The lyrics went a bit underwhelming in the metaphorical social commentary place, and a bit too over-the-top in the heartsleeve department. Lest we forget “Bobby James,” though; because for every track leading up to the close it was just another rap-and-romance piece. From premier to penultimate the album is solid, but the final cut was what sits in the back of your head as a reminder of the future possibilities of a group with said capabilities, “I’m so high… and so tired” – like Mean Girls to Lindsay Lohan. In Search Of… didn’t set out to find anything, and with no end in sight it surpassed the bulk of pseudo-self-awareness-PSAs-touted-as-albums for the decade. At the end of the day, no one ever really dies, and In Search Of… is a freshman living life on re-record; besides, they’re nerds: I just love their brain.

THE HARD 10: #5 Clipse – Hell Hath No Fury (2007)

28 Jan



The HARD 10 are ten of the most graphic albums ever released that all left an indelible mark upon the listener and the industry as a whole. Do enjoy these tales and songs, and carry their power into your life, finding their unrepentant aggression to be as emotionally valuable as tears.

Virginia isn’t for lovers, it’s for hustlers – Clipse is proof. Malice and Pusha T’s babyfaces mask two of the bluntest minds and model two of the most cold-blooded mouths in the game. Hell hath no fury like a kingpin’s scorn, and Hell Hath No Fury is these kingpins’ scorn.

The Neptunes trademark intergalactic beats are the soft Cavalli furs to the Thornton brother’s hard Pyrex stirred product. Steel drums, Moet chimes, handclaps, are as much a backdrop of the album as the grunts, off-beat bass, and requiem-esque strings. Tracks like Wamp, Wamp (What It Do) and Mr. Me Too lyrically play off the proverbial “sweet” life of a Coke king “We don’t chase a duck, we only raise the bucks. Peel money rolls until our thumbs get the papercuts. Children totto, South Beach Gallardo Teals started up, go brr like it’s Nardo,” over tropical Caribbean beats. As any dope boy knows though: it’s Cocaine in the sweets, but Crack in the streets and Clipse brings the South Beach suites to street status on the sophomore release too.


The Clipse let you know full well that they grip the Gallardo grain in the gutter as much as they do in South Beach. Hard is hustling Rock at an age where your peers are still sucking on Rock Candy: “I listen to the beat, and the rhyme is wrote. See, I was 16, eyes full of hope. Bagging up grams at the higher dough. The news called it crack, I called it Diet Coke (Oh!)” Again, The Neptunes back the banter with solid beats – macabre bass heavier than the weight Malice and T push across state lines, so deep it envelops whole tracks.

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Like White Pony dove into the darkest parts of “love” to twist perception, Clipse’s Hell Hath is as much a street anthem as it is a soundtrack for Virgina’s lovers slogan. The Thorntons can take or leave women: “Keys in the floor, mistress in Dior; Bitch tell me she love me, but I know she’s a whore,” because Kis will forever hold the keys to Clipse’s hearts: “Bitch never cook my coke! Why? Never trust a ho with your child.” Keys open doors. That’s real talk. Virginia is for lovers – and Clipse loves the hustle. Lil’ Wayne goes hard when he wants, but people get hooked on his clever wordplay. Most southern rappers are witty wordsmiths, whereas most east coast rappers are as blunt as a Philly wrap – classic style versus substance. Clipse has the best of both worlds settling in the Mid-Atlantic, for all of their quick witted lines about the high life, they have stark stances on the dark heat of a hellacious urban environment: “The judge is sayin’ life like it ain’t someone’s life.”


At the end of the day Hell Hath No Fury comes hardest as a package, as opposed to individual tracks – like a brick to a ball. The hardest part of the album is that nothing escapes the ominous overcast of a nightmare veiled as a dream – which is the story of their lives. What is success? What is failure? The penthouse ends are only as glorious as their gutter Pyrex means: “The cars is big, the cribs is bigger. The kids are happy, the perfect picture/ Gem Star razor, the fruit of my labor/ And I walk with a glow, it’s like the Lord’s shown favor/ These bitches fake like the hoes on Flavor/ But I don’t mind spending, all it is is paper! Yes!”


A diamond is only coal with decades worth of pressure; crack is just cocaine with water and baking soda. Value is dependent on perceived worth – Clipse comes hard with Hell Hath because from the corner to the crown the most valued entity hasn’t created anything but a crop of paper gangstas.

ALBUM REVIEW: The Clipse-Til the Casket Drops

4 Dec


I can’t really imagine a rap environment without The Clipse. But it almost happened. Malice and Pusha T, the brothers Thornton, were casualties of having an unwavering creative vision in desperate economic times. However, their perseverance makes them refuse to stop rapping, performing and hustling towards success until, well, the casket drops on their lives. The boys responsible for “Grindin‘,” “Wamp Wamp,” and some of the most original portraits of urban landscapes in recent memory haven’t released an album since 2006 not because they haven’t wanted to, but because they haven’t had the label to do so. Signed to Pharrell Williams’ Star Trak imprint, when Arista was dissolved into Jive Records, Star Trak went to Jive, and, well, needless to stay that gritty tales of urban blight and witty recounting of daily minutiae were tabled, while less potentially offensive pop acts were pushed. Now, in 2009, the Clipse are on Columbia Records, and have released Til the Casket Drops, a bitter, angry and surprisingly reflective release that shows the Clipse as battle tested but industry worn, throwing it all out on the line in the desire for success. And that’s where the problem is. Part of the Clipse’s initial success on record can be attributed to the fact that they frankly seemed calmer and more assured on their previous releases. They were on the way to success, a calm trek buoyed by the support of Star Trak. Now, the Clipse are hungry and demanding, a new look that succeeds on lyrical content, but with an unfamiliar production style to the group, is not quite what it needs to be.

For the unfamiliar, The Neptunes aren’t the sole producers of record on Clipse albums anymore. The work has been delegated, as Sean C and LV, The Hitmen, of Diddy fame, alongside relative new jack DJ Khalil join in on the fun. DJ Khalil may be the biggest fan of the Neptunes‘ production style ever, as for “Kinda Like A Big Deal,” those hollow drum patterns and loops and racing synths make the track sound like something directly from the Clipse’s past, and Malice and Pusha and guest Kanye West all respond in kind, lyrical giants performing like beasts on the exemplary production. Khalil’s “Footsteps” pleases as well, as I’d much rather hear the Clipse discuss consigning kilos of cocaine and flashing pistols over low key banger beats than pretty much anything else. Sean C and LV succeed in creating non Southern fried boom bap meant for instantaneous radio success, and succeed with the gigantic sounding album opener “Freedom,” but on “Never Will It Stop,” what sounds like a Kanye West throwaway track is hampered further by hollow sounding, meaningless plaudits being thrown around by Malice and Pusha. The opener, “Freedom” is incredible, as it discusses the trails and tribulations of the group over the past three years, and is as emotive as it is lyrically superior.

This album succeeds when it’s The Clipse and guest Cam’ron “outside Popeyes eatin‘ chicken and fries” on “Back By Popular Demand,” as the former Dipset Capo feels completely at home on the Neptunes‘ production. That hook, coincidentally shows that the Clipse have lost absolutely nothing lyrically over their hiatus, and are as potent as ever in creating exact urban moments that any urban dweller can associate with. Album closer “Life Change” with Kenna is a pleasant surprise not just for Kenna’s involvement, but because the Neptunes‘ production here really allows for the heartfelt notions regarding the careers of Pusha and Malice to shine through. These men would give their souls for hip hop, and clearly have. The laid back radio jam “I’m Good” is totally expected, and very reminiscent of NERD’sLoungin‘” or Jay-Z’s “Change Clothes,” two “champagne rap” favorites that really expanded the Neptunes‘ production style. “All Eyes on Me,” the club number really isn’t the Clipse’s forte, but they soldier through, as discussions of their Miami, South Beach party lifestyle feel highly incongruous with previous album topics and their most notable and appreciated qualities as emcees.

Overall, it’s great to have the Clipse back. However, their situation has left them seemingly jumbled and confused and truly unable to find a proper creative direction. The pinpoint reflection, humor, drug talk and crime content is still here, but there’s some emotional despondence that the Virginia Beach bad boys obviously have attempted to work through on record, with mixed results. As well, adding an attempt at being the very thing they resisted, a pop friendly radio act, was maybe not their best idea. Given their particular situation, take what you wanted to hear, and forget what you didn’t, as it probably will not make a return for the next release. The Clipse are still emperors, they’re just fitting into new clothes.

3.5 OUT OF FIVE STARS