The Middle of Nowhere #1

Let’s try something new. Good friend, stellar writer, and very forgiving editor Jeff Weiss has tirelessly reminded his group of writers that the best way to get better as a writer is to, in addition to a lot of reading and studying, write everyday — small or long-form. I’d often agree but life would often smack the shit out of me every attempt I’d make towards a rebound. This is me putting it into action and bracing against life’s cruelest ways. If I’m ever going to sharpen my pen and hone my craft further, I desperately need to drag my corpse back into the field and get active again. What easier way to do that than a very loose, informal column?

On a bi-weekly basis — weekly if I’m feeling especially inspired — I’m going to write about anything. It’ll likely be about music that I’m into or whatever show or movie I watched. Or it can be about life and anything that spawned a lot of thought. Hell, I might even throw in interviews I don’t know where to publish — don’t hold me to that as a promise. I’m treating blank word documents as a void to sputter off anything — hence the title of the blog being The Middle of Nowhere. Usually, I’ll clump everyone together and thank you all for riding with me but I wanted to address the reader specifically. Thank you for taking any time to read this shit. If my writing has affected you or holds any weight at all, I sincerely thank you on an individual basis. You really put stock into my life and I can’t express enough how grateful I am to have people who genuinely care about me, wherever you are in the world. With that said, let’s talk about Beyoncé.

Is Renaissance Any Good?

The short answer is an exasperated shrug. I’ve never had to grapple with any strong feelings about Beyoncé on a philosophical level. Her entire career is a flex. She is a billionaire married to a billionaire with a beautiful family and arguably the most devout fanbase of all time. She’s one of the most gorgeous women to ever live with an effortlessly stunning voice to match. She’s astutely aware of her blessings and radiates in confidence through her music. It’s less self-motivating, not for her, but for the audience. Through a daily dose of Beyoncé self affirmations, you can also be that bitch. The trick is nobody can be Beyoncé and she always reminds people of this in her music. But it’s just inclusive enough that you believe it and it evolves into something powerful.

It’s why she’s viewed as a modern deity. Not only because she is who she is, but she makes you believe. Through enough worship, you can be like Beyoncé too, steamrolling through shitty exes and becoming the biggest boss imaginable. It’s impressive how all of this threads the needle of being insanely condescending, her boasts powerful enough to shatter the earth’s crust without wrecking her audience’s pride. You believe because she believes. It’s wildly effective marketing because rather than engaging on a fan level, you’re a believer in the gospel. With brags so effective she’s created an army, it is really jarring to see Beyoncé engage with her audience on a personal level on Renaissance. Beyoncé is not relatable.

She does have relatable qualities. You can’t reach that level of inclusivity that the fans clamor for without revealing even the vaguest notions of yourself. The biggest pop stars paint portraits anyone can reasonably fit inside. “Girls (Who Run The World)” is empowering towards all women but is largely self-serving in magnifying the Beyoncé ethos. Renaissance doesn’t see Bey completely stray from her bag of tricks. “America Has a Problem”, initially thought by many to be another self righteous dissection of the US, revolves around how Beyoncé is the peak of humanity and how every guy — in this sense probably Jay-Z — wants to get with her. America has a problem and it’s Beyoncé. A lot of her more self absorbed songs on the record all bask in this middle aged Auntie horniness and caters it specifically to herself. If it wasn’t Beyoncé, this would likely be a bad thing but she’s historically had every reason to be arrogant. The problem is when she tries to play ally with the commoners.

People have already poked holes in “Break My Soul,” a well produced middle class cosplay loaded with a bunch of colorless lines about being drained from her 9–5 job. It begs you to let go of the stresses of the world but the song’s messenger constantly reminds you of the disparity between you and the artist. Beyoncé can quit whenever she wants, that’s not big talk from a billionaire mogul. I guess it’s not as bad as when her husband told people to wear baggy dress clothes to the club. Or consider “Energy”, sprinkling lines like “voting out 45, don’t get outta line” and “‘cuz them Karens just turned into terrorists.” These are not invalid lyrics or untrue sentiments. But this is deeply beneath Beyoncé and we all know it. Whoever the current president is or the unruly, surreal actions of white women have no effect on her. They shouldn’t! Someone of her tax bracket does not need to worry about these things. They are merely uttered to suggest common ground when Beyoncé and the audience have none other than universal aspirations. Two songs earlier, she said “I’m too classy for this world, forever I’m that girl, feed you diamonds and pearls.” The gap between us and Beyoncé is massive and it should stay that way.

Thankfully, her on-the-nose alliance with her fans only shows up sparingly. What doesn’t is the constant instances of what I can only describe as “Lizzo-isms.” Empowering? Depends on who you are. Excruciatingly lame? Absolutely. I hesitate to recall Meghan Trainor in these stylings because she made music too braindead to be cynical, ala “All About That Bass.” Middle-aged really is the best way to call it. Beyoncé will talk about being a ‘thotty’ a decade behind schedule or the backend of her 2nd verse on “Break My Soul” on how she’s back outside. At its worst moments, Renaissance is music for people who think bottomless mimosas at brunch is a personality. Beyoncé strains for coolness when she’s usually the barometer for it.

All of this isn’t to discredit all of Renaissance. One of Beyoncé’s lesser discussed strengths is her uncanny ability to assure her production isn’t waxed of its quirks and characteristics. While so many mainstream artists sand down any distinctions in style and production until it’s a smooth, indistinguishable set of mush for millions to digest, Beyoncé hardly opts to hollow out her music (not including the Lion King associated project, a kind reminder to actually listen to African art and not a weird half-baked compilation of artists. It’s literally Disney’s job to make products streamlined for mass consumption.) In comparison to Drake’s divisive Honestly, Nevermind (I will discuss this album in another column), Beyoncé provides a wider selection of colors and tempos to use, each song distinct from one another. The bass is so rubbery on “Alien Superstar”, contrasting from her heavenly voice on the hook. It’s so good it almost makes you forget she’s interpolating Right Said Fred. “Virgos Groove” and “Plastic Off The Sofa” are so rich and warm, a reminder that she thrives under humid, soulful atmospheres when she’s not conquering the world with her boasts.

I kinda hated this album for a while. It was hard to shake how she sounded so full of shit she sounded. She is an aspirational figure but she has never been and never will be relatable. She is not our peer and that’s a good thing. Renaissance fails when her coddling and dry, heatless writing prove more rigid than fluid in rhythm. But even amidst her hacky, lame songwriting, Beyoncé couldn’t weigh down Renaissance’s peaks from having genuine moments of warmth and liberation.

Long Live Young Slo-Be

I hate that so many eulogies need to be written for artists who haven’t even completed their stories. There’s a variety of factors that lead to this: The police weaponizing the art into something that could take away their freedom. The class inequality and economic disparity that creates a level of desperation that leads to lives lost. It could be something as simple as jealousy, “Why is he poppin’ off and not me?” The system is designed to suppress the voices and the willpower that can get us out of this rut, by incarceration or death. It’s enraging and it should make us want to get up and organize how we can defeat this oppression. But more than anything, it’s just fuckin’ sad man.

Young Slo-Be was one of the most exhilarating rappers we had, haunting lines intercepted by deafening bass, stuttering sighs, and ‘aye aye’ adlibs. The best artists hone in on specificity; they expand the audience’s imagination and show them exactly what they want to portray. Slo-Be’s music would often engulf his city of Stockton in flames, skies smoky, the sun scorching and unrelenting all while branding a sly smirk. To call it apocalyptic or compare it to a horror movie may have some credence to it but it’s simply another day. Stockton will never change. He said in an interview with Yousef Srour for Passion of the Weiss, “When they put the real good shit for the city, we fuck it up.”

I think a lot about how Boosie said a lot of rappers die in their own city. We’ve seen it happen dozens of times. MO3 died in Dallas. Young Dolph died in Memphis. Lil Snupe died in Louisiana. 18veno died in South Carolina. LA took Nipsey Hussle and Drakeo the Ruler. Now Stockton has lost Bris and Young Slo-Be. It’s truly terrifying how these places we know and love so intimately, flaws and all, can be the reason we pass. For all the claims from Forbes on how Stockton is the most miserable city in America or how they always fuck shit up, Slo-Be always painted the city as home. It’s all he knew. “There’s people out there, trying to make a living, trying to make Stockton into something. You have to give credit where it’s due. …Stockton motherfuckas get home sick, they come back. I miss the block.” It seems foolish to represent something you don’t own and something that seemingly doesn’t want to get better. But Slo-Be’s faith in the city, his love for his neighborhood and those trying to survive everyday, there’s real honor in standing behind them. One can only hope his impact can further the next generation of Stockton voices for the better.

Quick Hits

I might change this section to something else down the line but for now, you get the idea. A couple rapid fire sentences on stuff I’ve been thinking about lately.

• I’m starting to think Calvin Klein ads are starting to sap the talent away from its artists. Baby Keem? Joey Bada$$? Kendrick Lamar? Meg Thee Stallion? There’s no way those fuckin jean jackets and white underwear are like the alien Space Jam basketball.
• Related, Joey Bada$$’ 2000 is fuckin’ terrible and he ruined Men I Trust. Play “Show Me How” and the rest of Oncle Jazz or listen to Grand Puba’s 2000
• I’ve been randomly saying, “Texting shorty in the tub like Rev Run” from YL and Eyedress’s “Prada Gloves” everyday for the past week. Thanks Meels.
• Shoutout to that very specific time where everyone could all agree Rico Nasty was good in 2018. Her latest album Las Ruinas sucks. I blame Kenny Beats, even if he had nothing to do with it.

• King Combs is the Dominik Mysterio to Diddy’s Rey Mysterio. “Can’t Stop Won’t Stop” is his match with Seth Rollins. I’m fantasy casting Kodak Black album with Harlem World type beats.
• Cannot tell if my rekindled interest in RXK Nephew is a sign of my significantly deteriorated mental health. I don’t know, but “Early Age Death” is fuckin awesome.
• Once again, Kodak Black sounds incredible on beats that sound ripped straight from like ’97–04. I deeply appreciate how they dug for this Wayne sample instead of opting for something a bit easier to pinpoint. Icewear Vezzo got one in “It’s All on You.” Give Mannie Fresh his flowers.

• Absolutely adore Israel Daramola describing Flo Milli as “Project Pat through the prism of Angelica Pickles.” On “Bed Time,” she summons her inner Lil Wayne on “BM JR” but with the attitude of a Bratz doll. It’s one of the most impressive displays of rapping I’ve heard in a hot minute.
• WifiGawd is having yet another stellar year. Hot as Hell 2 is probably my favorite project of his since Heat Check Vol. 2. More rappers should try flexing their vocal athleticism on Plugg beats, they’re so bendy and atmospheric that it lays out limitless opportunities to try a myriad of flows. “Walk In” is the one.