Bun B, "Let 'Em Know," And Aging In Rap
The new song from Bun B really does seem, as the venerable MC says at the outset, to have been "a long time coming." It was produced by Gangstarr's DJ Premier, and so brings together two of hip-hop's very most revered practitioners. Bun and Premier are both from Texas, too, though Premier made his name after moving to Brooklyn in the late '80s. What's most interesting about the song to me today, besides the mesmerizing beat and the jaw-dropping rhymes ("When I get to gladiatin' on haters like Leonidas/Niggas just gonna have to admit that he the tightest…" Triple exclamation points) is how old these guys are. Premier is 44, Bun is, at the very, very least 37 or 38. (He was recently quoted talking about having children aged 24 and 25.)
I wrote last week about how surprised I was to hear Schoolly D, who is also 44, sounding as strong as he does on his new album. (And… 44? Really? So he was only 19 when "P.S.K." came out in 1986?) I've always been okay with the idea that rap music was a younger man's game. Like rock music before it, it started as a form of youth culture rebelling against older stuff. Parents were not supposed to like it. It's weird of course, when such a form itself gets to be twenty (or now, in the case of rap, thirty) years old, and its original creators and fans become parents themselves. It makes sense to me, in that regard, that I dislike the autotune-rap of popular new artists like Young Money and Drake. Also like rock music before it, there's something about vitality being an essential part of rap (it's supposed to be "fresh," right?) so that it made sense that older people wouldn't do it as well.
This notion has been proven wrong when it comes to rock. And it's been a progression. People were surprised when the Rolling Stones made an album as great as 1981's Tattoo You when they were in their late 30s. People were really surprised when Bob Dylan made one as great as 1997's Time Out of Mind when he was 56. As great artists get older, I guess, they figure out a way to make music that sounds honest to their age and still stay true to the essence of their chosen form. (I've been wishing that the Stones would accept their aging and sit down and make the masterpiece of rocking-chair country honk I've known they have in them since Keith wrote "Thru and Thru" in 1994. I've pretty much given up hope at this point. They're like the housewives of New Jersey or something. Not that I won't love them forever.)
So I guess it shouldn't be that surprising to see Bun and Premier and Schoolly D charging so forcefully right through middle age.) Along with folks like Scarface and Wu-Tang and, of course, Jay-Z—who, at 40, is still basically ruling the roost. Rappers are like rockers in many ways, after all. And like they've always said, it don't necessarily stop.
Eh, saying Jay is still at the top of the game is a bit of a stretch. Most people point to the Black album as his last great work. He's been in steady decline since then. BP3 was a total disaster. I mean, I don't really know what you measure "the top" by, but as far as skills, Jay hasn't been on top for a long time. There are a lot of other cats who are doing it better than him and have been for years.
"New York State of Mind" was the biggest rap song of last year. That alone, I would think, would spare "BP3" from a description of "total disaster. But I'm really talking more about status. Who's a more dominant figure in rap right now than Jay-Z? I can't think of anyone. Lil Wayne, maybe? Ross? I think they'd both still bow. And "American Gangster" was a very, very strong album. I'd put it just below "The Black Album" in the catalogue—because it didn't have a cornerstone like "99 Problems." ("Blueprint" and "Reasonable Doubt" at #1 and #2 for me.)
Ok, maybe I got a little carried away. It's the Internet! That's what it's for!
NY State of Mind was huge, that's for sure. I guess I just see him as an afterthought when thinking of hip-hop now, but I lean more toward the "underground" dudes than mainstream guys like Jay. But I would bet most kids put Weezy ahead of Jay.
I didn't like Gangster at all, but that's neither here nor there. Blueprint and Reasonable Doubt are among the best rap albums ever, and I have them in the same order, though it's very close.
And just to toss this in the ring: I think Skyzoo is the best rapper in the game right now. But I do have his famous battle with Jin on 106th n Park saved on my phone, so I could be biased.
ps.
There should be a Jin "Where Are They Now" on VH1.
YES.
Beef on Bun, with Fries, Please.
#thisthingisasgoodasthatthing
"the jaw-dropping rhymes ("When I get to gladiatin' on haters like Leonidas/Niggas just gonna have to admit that he the tightest…" Triple exclamation points)"
What?
Cool song, but far from the highs for both of these. It's not that I'm (God forbid, triple exclamation point) hatin' on contemporary rap, it's the claims that it comes anywhere near to being comparable to the works from the days when hip-hop was legal (louder than a bomb, even without exclamation points) that irks me.
Sorry to irk, Niko. And sorry if you didn't like my "triple exclamation points" thing (upside-down smiley-face.) I understand your feelings, as you've stated them before, that today's rap is uniformly worse than that of the past. I can even sympathize to a certain extent. (I love "Mr. Scarface Is Back," too.) But to a larger extent, I disagree. There has been a lot of great rap music made since the early '90s. And that "gladiatin' on haters" line would be a standout on any record from any era. It's just terrific rhyming.
Primo hasnt made a decent beat in 8 years.
Separate and apart from all of these debates about relative quality, we should take a moment to appreciate the confluence of linguistic events that allowed a play on words like "Trill O.G." to exist.