Death By Mixtape

I always wonder, why Hip Hop is the only genre to extensively produce the "mixtape"? Before I go any further, though;

The mixtape is actually that; a "tape" of mixes. Some 30-odd years ago, they were referred to as pause-mixes, meaning a song was recorded from it's source, onto a cassette tape, & paused until the next song was recorded. My generation would stay up late, the only time radio stations played Hip Hop in most cities back then, & record all the newest rap songs, making an "album" full of what was hot at the time. The more industrious youngster would re-record their final product, on more tapes & sell them to people. Thus, the mixtape phenomenon began.

Eventually, artists such as Too $hort & E-40 (& many others) began using this format to personally market their own albums out of cars, at strip malls, etc. Which, in short, was loosely the inception of the independent Hip Hop label. Loosely, being the operative word, because it's more to it than I'm willing to allude to in this post.

Which brings us to today. It would seem that any rap artist MUST have at least one mixtape in their catalog. The majority of which are usually throw-away verses & meh choruses over already popular instrumentals. This concept is good from a novelty P.O.V., but how far does a gimmick truly take you? In most cases, once an artist releases an original song, the listener becomes accustomed to hearing said vocalist over the music, so another artist out-doing them, in & of itself, is quite the task. It IS possible to do so, but for example; once I heard M.I.A.'s "Paper Planes", there wasn't much more that Bun B (an obviously better rapper) could do to improve on the inaugural version. Half of M.I.A.'s lyrics were barely understandable, but I stand by my point. Basically, if a song was meant for you, you'd be on it already.

Now, some tracks do deserve a much needed lyrical upgrade, which works out well occasionally, but it's still not your song(s). So, does that make it plagiarism, per se? Is it "acceptable" biting? Many say nil to both, but I beg to differ. In today's Hip Hop universe, if you throw a rock into a crowd of young people, half of them produce music. 25% of the remaining half are rappers, & the rest hang out for the free weed &/or just to get out of their mom's basement for the evening. It's not THAT hard to find someone to do beats, for free even. A halfway decent aspiring rapper can find an up & coming mediocre producer, & who knows what magic may ensue. Original magic, like Harry Houdini, not copycatted mystification, like David Blaine.

But, don't tell that to any established artists.......

In between so-so major releases, label acts fill their audio void with countless mixtape efforts, many of which fall on deaf ears. Not for nothing, but when I'm done listening to my favorite MC's studio release, I don't want to hear him on a re-mix of every song the radio murdered that summer. It was one thing for Curtis Jackson to use it as a vehicle to go from obscured anonymity to megastar, but in general it should be left to either the unknown rapster or an established artist who feels there is something to prove. Case in point; 50's digital mixtape "War Angel" was truck loads better than the last two studio albums he released.

The one understandable aspect of a mixtape is the lack of politics. An artist is free to rap about whatever he/she chooses when a Tall Israeli isn't breathing down their respective necks spewing demographic sales expectations during their writing session. It frees up more time to smoke weed & drink between takes, if you will.

Maybe I'm over-analytical (i.e. a douche), but why not save that energy for the records the record company pays you to put out? A win-win, if you ask me. & to be honest, I'm computer-savvy enough to get your actual album for free if I really wanted it, so all these cutting room throways aren't going to impress me in the slightest.

For a dude like Kid Cudi, or Charles Hamilton (& their ilk), it's a good way to set the stage for their official arrival. But, once popularity is secured, there's not much left to prove. Unless it's to themselves.

For a good comparative narrative, think about the established rappers who DON'T release mixtapes. DJ's might star them on certain series', but it's not the artist who ultimately decided, "Hey, let me make all these songs waaaaay better!".

In fact, I think I just answered my initial question; because most rap cats are one of two things. Over-confident, self-serving narcissists or genuinely talented guys who's hunger & thirst make "quit" a non-word.

Word.

Dead Rappers=Dead Presidents

It's weird how fiscal (someone else's) death can be in the entertainment biz.

Without some blowhole murdering Tupac Shakur, how successful would Master P* have been? He literally based the first half of his rap career on dedicating just about every one of his mediocre songs to Pac's memory. The second half was spent pimping out his family members & giving out record deals like so much free cheese. It's still unclear to me if the two ever even met. Yet, Percy Miller shouted him out intently, & often, like the two had been college room mates. Or prison cell mates. & P wasn't the only dude to benefit from a posthumous Pac. There was actually a time in (west coast & down south) Hip Hop when even the slightest indication of Tupac influence meant guaranteed success. If he IS in a grave, he's rolled over no less than 500 times by now.

Take rapper Fat Joe*. A relatively obscure hip hopper from the Bronx, NY in the mid-90's. If it weren't for my insatiable love of the culture, I wouldn't have known who he was either. He had a couple of bland records that were met by unexcited praise, but the smartest thing he ever did was introduce the world to the super-lyrical MC Big Pun. Pun took the rap world by storm, only to die from a heart attack a couple of years later. From this untimely death was born fame for Joe, who began every song with some sort of short rant about the man he dubbed his "twin". Though Joe never possessed the skill of Pun, as long as he could convince folks that Pun's ghost was somewhere in the room, he had our attention for the moment.

I won't even go in on Puffy & Notorious BIG*.

Now, to the list of parasites, we can add an unknown rap cat named Charles Hamilton. First glance at his name would indicate that he's a figure skater, or some type of child backgammon protege. No Dice. He's best compared to that strange guy who always talks in mumbles & never matches his clothes, purposely. Regardless of failing thus far to become a hip-hop-household name, he continues to attempt to brainwash the masses into thinking he's offering above average rap records, when they are merely clear cries for help. He even got punched in the face by some girl he put in a song. One would think she would be grateful for her 5 minutes of fame. Instead, she kicked his ass for being so homotional. Even that attack on his manhood wasn't enough to deter him from douchebaggery.

His next album was to be Executive Produced by a producer by the name of J-Dilla*, who passed away about 2 years ago from Lupus. Even though he was an underground artist, Dilla had produced hit records for a large amount of notable artists. For the most part, he just starting getting the respect his craft deserved when his life ended.

Nonetheless, he's dead now, & in some odd attempt at homage, Charles decided to make Dilla executive producer on his next album. Problem is, they've never worked together, met, or shared any type of mutual friendship (stalker!). As strange as that may be, Hamilton said that he did so in an effort to see to it that Dilla's family benefits from a percentage of every album sold. Which, really wouldn't be strange at all if he didn't plan on releasing the album on the 'Net for free download. What first appeared a genuine effort on his part to contribute to a dead man's family quickly evolved into a marketing scheme implosion, further cementing Hamilton's legacy of being a f%cking jerk.

When idiocy outweighs musical output, something's not working in your favor. This is the stuff that true douches are made of.

Call me old-fashioned, but in my day, if one wanted to help out another, we simply took them whatever we thought they needed. May even have called & asked first if it was cool for us to even extend our hand to them. A good sign if someone is an asshole is assuming that whatever they decide to do for us will be good enough. If Hamilton didn't have the money currently available to manifest his good intentions, he could've organized a fundraiser for Dilla's loved ones. Folks love giving for a cause. It's the homeless people that they refuse to help. If properly orchestrated, he could have raised tens of thousands of bucks to give them. Hell, at this point, a tattoo of J-Dilla on his back would have been better received by the public.

According to Charles' blog, the politics of the music game made it virtually impossible to put Dilla's stamp on his brand. No Dice. It was probably more like Dilla's mom caught wind of this bum ass clown & shooed him away like bees at a barbecue. So, to save face, he blamed it on a bunch of people who don't really exist.

We know death is the Holy Grail of marketing. & if you can't get a co-sign from a dead dude, its time to change careers.

If it's worth anything, Robert Louis Stevenson is my executive publisher. Shouts out to his mom.
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*-Google Alert