As-Salāmu `Alaykum, no oink for me and I never let a d-boy boink for free
Young Money - Roger That
There really aren't enough rap songs which use the word boink, are there? Ever since Rob Breezy alerted me to the charms of Nicki Minaj's verse on Young Money's Roger That (you can mute it for a minute or so inbetween Nicki and Wayne's verses when Drake's pansy ass is rapping) last week i've been looking up at least 1 Nicki Minaj song on Youtube ever since. Female rappers are generally shit but Nicki has joints, and her cover of Warning is particularly interesting :
Not even because saucy interpolations of Biggie classics are always good or because Nicki managed to ape every nuance of Biggie's flow so perfectly. What really impressed me here is that she managed to hold her phone and gesticulate animatedly into it exactly like Biggie and Puffy too :
So, um, anybody know any good monitor wipes which don't leave your screen streaky as fuck?
J-Zone is perhaps the finest renaissance man in rap of the past decade and change : patron saint for those of us who base our life decisions on Eazy E lyrics, creator of the best indie-rap albums not made by DOOM, Count Bass D or R.A, producer of bangers for the likes of Akinyele and R.A, mixtape compiler extrodinaire, ig'nant gang$ta-rap tastemaker, HHC and Fat Lace column writer (I'm sure Robbie over at Unkut would admit he's borrowed liberally from those columns over the years) and a pretty fine blogger to boot judging by his posts on Dante's site.
So back in 2006 I greeted his collaboration with Celph Titled as the Bo$$ Hog Barbarians with trepidation. Oh sure, Celph killed the 'Zone tracks he guested on on $ick Of Bein' Rich like Steady Hoggin' and Eatadicup, but at that point Celph Titled was just some humourous punchline rapper dude whose 12"s I'd always see gathering dust in Bongos, who was primarily known for getting into fights with turd burglers like Cage. Was he really worthy of holdin' down a full album with 'Zone? Turns out he was, but the biggest suprise of their combination was that Celph had beats himself. And not just any old let-the-other-guy-pad-out-the-album-to-appease-his-producer-aspirations beats, but that ol' robotic, futuristic, George Jetson sounding Bay type shit that E-40 was rockin' from, like, '98 - '02. Dayum, these shits are lethal :
Bo$$ Hog Barbarians - You Got Mail
Bo$$ Hog Barbarians - Dog Show Pageant
Not one to be outdone by his compadre channeling other producers on his own shit, 'Zone managed to summon up the spirit of Just Blaze for Celph to go all Akinyele on Celph Destruction which outdid any of the discordant bollocks or lazy beatjacks one Justin Blaze esquire dropped that year, bar Dynomite by Rhymefest or I'm Talkin' To You by T.I, which basically is standard Just Blaze circa '06 discordant bollocks but good standard Just Blaze circa '06 discordant bollocks that you makes you wanna reenact scenes from Hard Boiled and Hard Target.
Bo$$ Hog Barbarians - Celph Destruction
'Zone needs to make some new music, and someone needs to mention to Celph's that there's a guy called Turf Talk who'd sound pretty, pretty good over his beats if he still has any in the same vein as You Got Mail and Dog Show Pageant lying around his crib.
And so we wave what might be a final tah-rah to Chantal Hadley as Jesus College Oxford were knocked out of University Challenge last night and relegated into that confusingly pointless cauldron with other teams which've been knocked out who could still potentially make the next round if the moon orbits around the sun a particular way the night of transmission or something.
Chantal had obviously took us calling her the Hoxton Hindley to heart, and jettisoned the whole Hoxton half of the equation to settle squarely on the Hindley portion for her current look, which we wholeheartedly approve of. Yeah, okay - Hindley was an evil cunt who killed innocent kids, but so was the hot assassin bird from 24 who blew up the airplane with children on it in the first episode, and we're not gonna stop cracking one off over her anytime soon, are we? Besides, looking like Myrah Hindley is infinately less offensive than looking like a Morissey loving Urban Outfitters employee on the scale of heinous activity.
Chantal, we know you read this blog (#3 Google hit on "Chantal Hadley" + "University Challege", baby) so we have two pleas for you : puhleez sign up for the third series of Are You An Egghead this summer, and do be a dear and join our pub quiz team one time because our token bird member really is shit on the questions about maths and the Bronte sisters which she professes to be an expert on.
Since every rap blog is obligated to make a tribute post every time a rapper dies, here's ours for the recently departed Apache of Gangsta Bitch and Flavor Unit fame.
Weird to see a non Texas rapper die of blood sugar related weight problems, and kinda ironic that a rapper who made this song should die a bedridden obese walrus, but life can be cruel like that :
Apache - Get Ya Weight Up
Still, at least it wasn't Lakim Shabazz or Chill Rob G, eh? Flavor Unit 4eva.
I have neither the technology nor the knowhow to convert my tape of this, and I can't find a downloadable link which doesn't require an unlisted password. Anybody help? I feel i'm being denied a basic human right by not being able to listen to Red Dots and Sunsprayed when grocery shopping or browsing in Blockbuster.
Speakin' of Sunsprayed, Murs and 2 of his Living Legends mates calling themselves the 3 Melacholy Gypsies as they do liggedy lyrical third eye spherical ribbedy-rapping over a guitar riff from Heart Shaped Box by Nirvana in a video where they indulge in all kinds of 4 eLeMeNtZisms shouldn't work, it really shouldn't, and yet, every time I listen to it I suddenly feel the urge to strap on a Jansport, grow my Razor Ramon stubble beard into a full goatee which I can then dreadlock up, buy a beaded necklace, and try to rhyme every sunday morning monosyllabic grunt out of my mouth with the phrase "loading my pistol with lyrical projectiles" in rapid motion. Go figure.
Anybody hook it up?
*Edit*
Thanks to Boothe for the superior Googling skills.
2010 is the year when The Martorialist crew are gonna start hittin' up metal clubs again. It's been 4 years since we last stepped south of heaven and the memories of masses of 14 year olds, fat birds trying to look like Dita Von Teese, and having to endure shit like Funeral For A Friend have faded to the point that we've gotten it into our heads that metal clubsb in 2010 are now populated by wall-to-wall rock chick vixens and play nothing but classic shit by Motorhead, Danzig, Bon Scott era AC/DC, Faith No More, EyeHateGod, Ozzy era Sabbath, Slayer, Trouble, Anthrax, Kyuss, various songs from the Rocky 4 soundtrack, and the n.W.o Hollywood Hogan entrance version of Voodoo Child (Slight Return).
The trouble with metal clubs is that metallers are a tight-knit community deeply untrusting of outsiders who don't wear the mark of the beast setting foot into the belly. In 1999/2000 our Silas/Carhartt/Adidas or Nike get ups were generally accepted due to nu-metal whiggatry being rife at the time, but a mere 3 years later metal had closed up shop again and our mate Gary who sported a black and red Adidas tracksuit to a metal night hopin' to pull some Korn fangirl tail was ostracized for "looking scallie" and ended up gettin' ejected by the bouncers amid accusations of selling weed in the bogs.
What to do, what to do. We were stumped until a lightbulb went off that urged us to look to our blog compadres for sartorial inspiration for the appropriate attire for the long way back from hell. On one hand, we can appease our whigga souls and get NWA-ed up in black Raiders hats, 501s and Jordans like Reza which should be acceptable on the left hand path due to an excessive amount of black. On the other, we could follow Dom's lead and use his peacocking-at-metal-gigs-in-non-threatening-garb technique with mustard coloured jackets and scarves.
We're not sure which course of action we're going to take yet, so as we're pondering whether or not we should buy some platform boots and JNCO-sized bondage kecks to appeal to the goth foxes instead, here's a guide to storing metal shirts on the excellent Old School Metal Shirts site. Man, metallers really are the Japanese of white ppl subcultures :
ROLLE THE ZIP BAG, LAY IT INTO A HOLE PUNCHER AND HOLE THE ZIP PAG. THEN YOUR SHIRTS CAN BREATH
YOU CAN USE A IKEA RACK (MODEL EXPEDIT) OR A PLASTIC BASKET TO STORE THEM
Bonus beats :
Eff a guilty pleasure. If you've never danced on a table in a shit metal club to this, your life has been sorely misspent.
I wanted to post Yellow Panties as it's the only Jeckyll & Hyde song I love which I've not posted on here. I could've done a post with it alongside P.I.M.P by Keak Da Sneak to demonstrate the Bay's weird obsession with mid 80s NY rap, but I didn't really fancy doin' a music post today.
Instead, I thought It'd go just swell with a post about the finest pissing scene (yellow panties, piss - geddit?) to ever grace a movie. Of course, the finest pissing scene in the history of movies is the golden shower scene in Team America, but we're into that more niche stock here at The Martorialist, so it's today's edition of this series is going to have to come from Troll 2 instead :
Troll 2 often gets tarred with the so-bad-it's-good brush and has developed a cult following to the point where there was a documentary about it showing at various film festivals last year, but, I 'unno, it's a pretty cool unique lil' scary movie about goblins who trick people into eating food that turns them into vegetables so that the goblins can then eat them, that's profoundly more engaging and entertaining than a fucking borefest like Avatar.
Like Joshua's dad tells him : you can't piss on hospitality. What you can do in its place is check out Rob Breezy and Superix's All Black Everything mix over on Southern Hospitality of conscious-rap choons with the word black in their titles by Lakim Shabazz, Brand Nubian, Poor Righteous Teachers, 2 Kings In A Cypher and so on. Trust me when I tell youthat you'll never hear a mix with a finer intro, and that's word to Dead Mike.
You should also check the Fat Lace podcast, where Dan Large and Drew Huge induldge in a post-Man U' vs. Leeds session of Ultramagnetic jokes, slept on conscious-rap, golden-era and bay gangsta-rap gems, some standard classics and Dan finally gaining braggin' rights over Drew.
1. Why hasn't someone uploaded the full Ice-T and Coco bits of All Star Mr And Mrs up to Youtube yet? Streetz ain't givin' a fuck about Carol Smillie and some kid from Coronation Street.
2. Why didn't Ice and Coco win the money for their chosen charity when Coco got the question right about which year Ice's masterpiece O.G Original Gangster came out in? It wasn't her fault that Ice was a year out and thought it came out in 1992, thus denying them their charidee loot.
It was a decent watch anyway, if only for Ice refusing to answer when Schofield asked him his real name, and Rhyme Pays, Power and O.G all getting mentioned on a UK tv show which goes out to millions of regular squares and mongs. One of the reasons I liked Notorious was because I got to hear the likes of Warning, Juicy, Kick In The Door and see an actor playing Craig Mack in the company of what Bobby "The Brain" Heenan would call ham 'n' eggers or humanoids, and this worked on much the same level.
So, shall we take a quick gander at all the videos from O.G since they're all currently on Youtube? I say we should jump at the chance since it's a rare occurrence any Ice video lasts more than a couple of months before Warner Brothers get it deleted, muted or have the embedding disabled feature implemented. Yeah, let's stick it to the man!
Ice-T - O.G Original Gangster
Ice's thorough explanation of what happened inbetween Reckless and 6 In The Morning, where he somehow forgets to mention the bit about sorta ripping off Schoolly D's whole steez.
Ice-T - The Tower
Ice-T - Mind Over Matter
Ice-T - the only man on the planet, bar Mike Muir, who could make a baseball cap and ponytail combo look fly.
Ice-T - Midnight
One night sometime in 1998 we were waiting for a taxi after a particularly drunken night out and there was a tinted 4x4 opposite blasting this. I went over and knocked on the window to compliment whoever was inside on their taste in music, which possibly wasn't the best idea in hindsight, but nobody answered so I just got my boogie on with a complicated dance routine which alternated between bow-legged nut grabbing and furious air-guitar action until our taxi came. It occassionally still keeps me awake at night not knowing who was inside that vehicle.
Ice-T - New Jack Hustler
Interesting movie fact : apparently Larenz Tate used listen to this over and over to get into that O-Dog state of mind for Menace II Society.
