Već nekoliko godina nije tajna da je hip hop u velikoj krizi, te da se potencijalno nova, zapaljiva imena iščekuju kao Sunce u februaru. Diabolic, betler iz Njujorka inicijalno je zamirisao na proleće svojim debi albumom, objavljenom za kuću Viper.
Da, dobro ste uočili, reč je o etiketi za koju svoja izdanja objavljuje i Immortal Technique, militiantni Peruanac iz Harlema kome je zapelo da najsnažnije zamaše barjakom underground hip hopa, postižući respektabilan komercijalni uspeh, s obzirom na neprečišćenost i škakljivost njegovog uličarskog rečnika. Njegovo ime na spisku Diabolicovih gostiju ulivalo je određeno poverenje da bi L&aT moglo da bude osvežavajuće logorejično iskustvo.
I upravo pesma Frontlines u kojoj gostuje pomenuti Tech vraća na sto sve ono po čemu je nekada, sada već davno, bilo poželjno i zahvalno slušati hip hop - vispreno baratanje rečima koje u sebi sažima i opasnost i obrazovanje i zabavu, u tolikoj meri da se posle slušanja iste osećate pročišćeno kao da ste pročitali kakvu katarzičnu knjigu. Diabolic u paramparčad razbija matricu svojim multi skrojenim rimama, dok Tech suvereno dokazuje zbog čega je trenutno najbolji svetski MC.
Ova numera se nalazi u prvom delu ploče, na kome su nalaze kompozicije koje vraćaju smešak na natmurena lica napaćenih glava iz predgrađa. U njima se odvija upravo ono što Diabolic sugeriše tako da se mogu posmatrati kao produžetak sjajnih iskustava hardcore hip hop izraza. Ali, vremenom ova impresija bledi i ustupa mesto neproživljenim storytelling iskustvima o genijalcima koji upucavaju likove sa crne liste CIA (sve u paketu sa smaračem kakav je Ill Bill), a kada ponestane filmske inspiracije, prelazi se na sopstvena nevesela iskustva koja se svode na rekapitulaciju bahatih & neinteresantnih (zlo)upotreba opijata i alkohola. Pretežno dosadnjikavi utisak ne popravljaju ni inspirativni manevri Engineera, producenta iz Vankuvera, na matricama. Da je L&aT kojim slučajem objavljen kao EP sa pet-šest pesama bio bi sjajno slušalačko iskustvo, ovako više od njegove polovine predstavlja čist višak.
Ukratko, Diabolic je na svom debiju isporučio i momente zbog kojih je hip hop nekada bio najvitalniji muzički pravac, ali i podsetio zbog čega danas ovaj žanr čami u kreativnoj stagnaciji još od Eminema naovamo. Da bi se iz krize izašlo, više nije dovoljno biti "ispravan", i u svakoj pesmi polagati zakletvu lojalnosti "hardkoru", već biti hardkor, na šta se malo ko danas usuđuje.
Forget what you knew,
Welcome to the muthafuckin battlefield,
[Diabolic: Verse 1]
I two-step with Lucifer, and ever since i started dancin,
Ive walked a fine line between Einstein and Charles Manson,
Starvin in this famine with my stomach growlin,
Like someone shouting a hundred thousand times louder than thunder poundin,
Fuck around and Ill punch youre mouth in,
Im king of the mountain, with my life in this project like its public housing,
Counting on the fact i fire bomb entire songs,
I wont stop until the worlds inside my palm like Viacom,
Diabolic, Ill supply the higher wattage via fibre optic wire,
Until you acquire some kinda knowledge,
Coz life made me grow wiser than old-timers,
Hot-headed like the ghost rider behind a slow driver,
Sole survivor, flowin lavas second nature,
So dont test, its best to save youre breath like respirators,
Ill throw a punch at youre ribs that gives youre lungs asthma,
And has you pouring out youre guts faster than Dutch Masters,
Drunk bastard, past the point of no return,
Like Denzel trickin Ethan Hawke into smokin sherm,
Judgement overturned, held in court like Mordecai,
Mortalize when i make statues bleed and portraits cry,
Ill go to war for mine, Rebel Army guard the border,
Im in the trenches barkin orders like Im Sergeant Slaughter,
Pray to Jesus H for mercy and plead youre case,
Coz on the frontlines youre dead the second that you see my face!
This is the frontline, this is the dead-zone, barely alive or in a box is how you head home,
This is the frontline, this is the life that i chose, i thought i told you muthafuckas to lock and load,
[Immortal Technique: Verse 2]
Yeah
They said that the success of my music was theoretic,
But my revenge is sweet enough to murder diabetics,
Eugenics procter and gamble credit racial science,
Couldnt produce a more aggressive intellectual giant,
Nephilim bury em, with the bullets left in them,
My heart is blacker than the children of Thomas Jefferson,
Blacker than back in the days of tar and featherin,
A cancerous endocrine, the eagle-ass American,
The hatchet and the sticks, the fascist emblem,
You could call it Conspiracy Theory,
I dont give a muthafuck, you could get your mother fucked,
National securitys a code-word for cover-up,
Hold that down, I look at character,
Never let the color get to ya,
I got white Revolutionaries like Muslims in Chechnya,
Percussion thumpin like the Russian Mafia over ya,
But even they know what its like when you fighting for Svoboda,
So whether Slavic, or Islamic, vodka/gin tonic,
Drunken fantasies are cool son, but heres the grim logic,
You niggas wanna play industry, and starve to be rich ,
Until they fuck you for millions, like Paul McCartneys bitch,
My lions live inside a box like Jumanji,
Sikh niggaz thatll stab you up like Indira Gandhi,
So never desecrate the space on which I meditate,
My thoughts rip through tank-armored metalplates,
And start to resenate, to the spot where Moses caused the sea to separate
The place that the Prophet Muhammad started to levitate,
The exact moment that Jesus rose dead awake,
And Siddhartha became the Buddha that regenerates,
Half a bar over but I bring it home colder than dead soldiers,
Soul controler, holder of knowledge, so fuck dianetics,
Im like the whole library in Kemet with annunaki genetics!
[Hook: Diabolic]
[Outro: Immortal Technique]
Yeah muthafuckaz,
Immortal Technique / Diabolic
This is the Fronline, the people first; one time,
32 and a little somethin, ahahaha
33 Degrees muthafucka, go home and figure ït out
Da, dobro ste uočili, reč je o etiketi za koju svoja izdanja objavljuje i Immortal Technique, militiantni Peruanac iz Harlema kome je zapelo da najsnažnije zamaše barjakom underground hip hopa, postižući respektabilan komercijalni uspeh, s obzirom na neprečišćenost i škakljivost njegovog uličarskog rečnika. Njegovo ime na spisku Diabolicovih gostiju ulivalo je određeno poverenje da bi L&aT moglo da bude osvežavajuće logorejično iskustvo.
I upravo pesma Frontlines u kojoj gostuje pomenuti Tech vraća na sto sve ono po čemu je nekada, sada već davno, bilo poželjno i zahvalno slušati hip hop - vispreno baratanje rečima koje u sebi sažima i opasnost i obrazovanje i zabavu, u tolikoj meri da se posle slušanja iste osećate pročišćeno kao da ste pročitali kakvu katarzičnu knjigu. Diabolic u paramparčad razbija matricu svojim multi skrojenim rimama, dok Tech suvereno dokazuje zbog čega je trenutno najbolji svetski MC.
Ova numera se nalazi u prvom delu ploče, na kome su nalaze kompozicije koje vraćaju smešak na natmurena lica napaćenih glava iz predgrađa. U njima se odvija upravo ono što Diabolic sugeriše tako da se mogu posmatrati kao produžetak sjajnih iskustava hardcore hip hop izraza. Ali, vremenom ova impresija bledi i ustupa mesto neproživljenim storytelling iskustvima o genijalcima koji upucavaju likove sa crne liste CIA (sve u paketu sa smaračem kakav je Ill Bill), a kada ponestane filmske inspiracije, prelazi se na sopstvena nevesela iskustva koja se svode na rekapitulaciju bahatih & neinteresantnih (zlo)upotreba opijata i alkohola. Pretežno dosadnjikavi utisak ne popravljaju ni inspirativni manevri Engineera, producenta iz Vankuvera, na matricama. Da je L&aT kojim slučajem objavljen kao EP sa pet-šest pesama bio bi sjajno slušalačko iskustvo, ovako više od njegove polovine predstavlja čist višak.
Ukratko, Diabolic je na svom debiju isporučio i momente zbog kojih je hip hop nekada bio najvitalniji muzički pravac, ali i podsetio zbog čega danas ovaj žanr čami u kreativnoj stagnaciji još od Eminema naovamo. Da bi se iz krize izašlo, više nije dovoljno biti "ispravan", i u svakoj pesmi polagati zakletvu lojalnosti "hardkoru", već biti hardkor, na šta se malo ko danas usuđuje.
Forget what you knew,
Welcome to the muthafuckin battlefield,
[Diabolic: Verse 1]
I two-step with Lucifer, and ever since i started dancin,
Ive walked a fine line between Einstein and Charles Manson,
Starvin in this famine with my stomach growlin,
Like someone shouting a hundred thousand times louder than thunder poundin,
Fuck around and Ill punch youre mouth in,
Im king of the mountain, with my life in this project like its public housing,
Counting on the fact i fire bomb entire songs,
I wont stop until the worlds inside my palm like Viacom,
Diabolic, Ill supply the higher wattage via fibre optic wire,
Until you acquire some kinda knowledge,
Coz life made me grow wiser than old-timers,
Hot-headed like the ghost rider behind a slow driver,
Sole survivor, flowin lavas second nature,
So dont test, its best to save youre breath like respirators,
Ill throw a punch at youre ribs that gives youre lungs asthma,
And has you pouring out youre guts faster than Dutch Masters,
Drunk bastard, past the point of no return,
Like Denzel trickin Ethan Hawke into smokin sherm,
Judgement overturned, held in court like Mordecai,
Mortalize when i make statues bleed and portraits cry,
Ill go to war for mine, Rebel Army guard the border,
Im in the trenches barkin orders like Im Sergeant Slaughter,
Pray to Jesus H for mercy and plead youre case,
Coz on the frontlines youre dead the second that you see my face!
This is the frontline, this is the dead-zone, barely alive or in a box is how you head home,
This is the frontline, this is the life that i chose, i thought i told you muthafuckas to lock and load,
[Immortal Technique: Verse 2]
Yeah
They said that the success of my music was theoretic,
But my revenge is sweet enough to murder diabetics,
Eugenics procter and gamble credit racial science,
Couldnt produce a more aggressive intellectual giant,
Nephilim bury em, with the bullets left in them,
My heart is blacker than the children of Thomas Jefferson,
Blacker than back in the days of tar and featherin,
A cancerous endocrine, the eagle-ass American,
The hatchet and the sticks, the fascist emblem,
You could call it Conspiracy Theory,
I dont give a muthafuck, you could get your mother fucked,
National securitys a code-word for cover-up,
Hold that down, I look at character,
Never let the color get to ya,
I got white Revolutionaries like Muslims in Chechnya,
Percussion thumpin like the Russian Mafia over ya,
But even they know what its like when you fighting for Svoboda,
So whether Slavic, or Islamic, vodka/gin tonic,
Drunken fantasies are cool son, but heres the grim logic,
You niggas wanna play industry, and starve to be rich ,
Until they fuck you for millions, like Paul McCartneys bitch,
My lions live inside a box like Jumanji,
Sikh niggaz thatll stab you up like Indira Gandhi,
So never desecrate the space on which I meditate,
My thoughts rip through tank-armored metalplates,
And start to resenate, to the spot where Moses caused the sea to separate
The place that the Prophet Muhammad started to levitate,
The exact moment that Jesus rose dead awake,
And Siddhartha became the Buddha that regenerates,
Half a bar over but I bring it home colder than dead soldiers,
Soul controler, holder of knowledge, so fuck dianetics,
Im like the whole library in Kemet with annunaki genetics!
[Hook: Diabolic]
[Outro: Immortal Technique]
Yeah muthafuckaz,
Immortal Technique / Diabolic
This is the Fronline, the people first; one time,
32 and a little somethin, ahahaha
33 Degrees muthafucka, go home and figure ït out
Постови
Нема коментара:
Постави коментар