His was a distinctly Southern drawl, but it was malleable. Rich Boy arrived on the scene with “Get To Poppin’” with an intoxicating Totó La Momposina sample backing his liquid Alabama flow. But that’s the best way to listen to Polow-produced tracks: It’s at the point of shattering your ear drums that you really feel their power. That had a lot to do with a guy from Interscope playing me this record at a squirrel-killing volume, telling me it was the greatest piece of music I had ever listened to. When I first heard this album, I thought it was the greatest piece of music I had ever listened to. And you can’t tell the story of Southern hip-hop without mentioning Polow da Don. Rich Boy was a canvas, and Polow da Don was the painter. I am really into his voice and flow, but that’s beside the point. Rich Boy is not what makes Rich Boy important. When we look back at this decade of sullen young rappers, suffocating self-absorption, and sparse production, we’ll see DS2 as the blueprint. DS2 captures a destructive but alluring way of coping with grief, and it helped accelerate the nihilist bent that currently predominates in Southern hip-hop. The album’s lack of moral urgency was its own statement about what’s left to care about in our world, and Metro Boomin’s dour production ensured that the “no hugging, no learning” directive would remain consistent throughout (the closest we get to romance is a track called “Rich $ex”). These are common fixations in rap, but rarely are they presented in such a disaffected stupor. Coming on the heels of his broken engagement with Ciara, the album saw Future embracing all of his basest desires - namely drugs, sex, and violence. The opening notes of DS2 - the fizzing of the soda bottle, the mixing with cough syrup into a deadly confection, the Sprite-commercial-level cheese of that thirst-quenched “ahhhhhh” - are the sounds of a man falling into a pit of radioactive ooze and emerging as a supervillain. In one of rap’s all-time best heel turns, Atlanta’s favorite warbling, lovesick pop star broke bad on his third studio album, transforming into a lean-sipping hedonist for whom the only meaning in life could be found at the bottom of a Solo cup. (Don’t us submit a short - as in, under 150-word - blurb in defense of your fave via this form, and we might just publish your rebuttal.)
#Mystikal album cover free
The Ringer’s resident Southerners weigh in on which states (and cities) deserve to get the bootīelow you’ll find our Southern rap album ranking feel free to yell about your favorite that we left off. But which of his anthems goes the hardest? Sorry, but Your State Is Not the South Getty Images/Ringer illustration blessed Atlanta-and the world-with countless hits, odes, and bangers. Anthem Is the Most Important? Getty Images/Ringer illustrationīetween 20, T.I.
The debate is … complicated Which Classic T.I. Is Florida Part of the South? Getty Images/Ringer illustration We argued, voted, voted again, and we’re standing by these classics. The South Week Dismantling Dixie: The Summer the Confederate Monuments Came Crashing Down Getty Images/Ringer illustrationĪfter Charlottesville, cities around the country are debating what to do about statues that commemorate complicated parts of Civil War history The 20 Best Southern Rap Albums Ever Getty Images/Ringer illustration So a small group of Ringer experts convened, argued, voted, voted again, and did this in the manner we saw fit. It seems ludicrous not to include Da Drought 3 or Trap or Die or Sailin Da’ South or any of Gucci’s tapes, but those were mixtapes, and if we included all of the classic tapes, we’d be here until Tha Carter V finally comes out. Meaning, while we’re saying that Southern Rap Album A is appreciably better than Southern Rap Album B, I do not accept the legitimacy of the court in which I’m being tried. But like children, there are wayward ones, and favored ones, and neglected ones. Let me begin by saying I have a religious objection to prizing one great Southern rap album above another I love them like they’re my children. In the words of two great Southerners, nothin’ is for sure, nothin’ is for certain, nothin’ lasts forever.
We’re also ranking the best Southern rap albums, imagining the André 3000 mixtape we all deserve, and arguing about what even constitutes the South anymore. You’ll find stories from all over the map, exploring topics such as the enduring legacy of Confederate monuments in Richmond and Montgomery, the evolution of Charleston barbecue, and the intersection of faith and football in Lubbock. For the next several days, we’re celebrating - and reporting on - the richness of the region.
0 kommentar(er)
