Forgive me father, for I have sinned. It has been [mumbles] since my last confession.
Q.
Well, father, you see, I write for this site called Surviving the Golden Age. Album reviews mostly. And when I’m given an album, I do my best to give it a fair shake, you know. I usually listen to it at least twice, do some research, and make an effort to be as objective as possible.
Q.
See, this time I was asked to review a new album called Southsiders by a rap outfit named Atmosphere and well, I couldn’t do it, father, I just couldn’t. I tried, I promise. But every time I cued up my iTunes I found myself skipping tracks or finding any excuse to pause the music. I washed dishes. I swept floors. I even folded all the laundry in my house for Christ’s sakes. Oh, sorry. But you get the point. I failed to do my due diligence.
Q.
I mean, the production was nice enough. It was oftentimes soulful, other times light, with interesting mixes of sounds. “We Ain’t Gonna Die Today” had a killer bass lick, complemented nicely by a spare beat. “Arthur’s Song” used some key stabs here and there to create a thoroughly mellow jam. Even the string intro of “Mrs. Interpret” was skillfully done with a tinge of French to properly capture the ennui. Oh! Ennui. That’s a good word for how I felt about this album.
Q.
I guess when you get right down to it, it’s the flow and bars of Slug that really made it unbearable. I mean it was at times truly Macklemore-ian. And with delivery like that, the faux-philosophy of some of these lines is just cringe-worthy. I mean, soup spoons have more depth than some of this stuff. I can show you my notes, I actually wrote down the word “sigh.”
Q.
Take for instance, at one point on the title track he says, “y’all think I got a damn to give/does it look like I drive an ambulance.” Is that clever? I guess people who drive ambulances do give a damn, but yikes. On “Mrs. Interpret” he actually raps, “you might as well have a mouth full of baby birds.” I put extra question marks next to that one. Try to figure this one out, from “Camera Thief,” “lock the doors/and hide the keys/let’s go describe how to climb a tree.” I know, right?
Q.
I mean at times it feels like he’s just trying to cram too many rhymes into a small space and often times they don’t make sense. But what’s worse is when they do make sense and are nothing more than utterly inane nonsense. To wit: “I wrote you a horoscope/it won’t fit on this post-it note/but if I had to sum it up into a shorter quote/it goes ‘fuck it, you might as well row that boat.’” GREAT ADVICE, DUDE, THANKS!
Q.
I know, I feel horrible. I’m entrusted by the good people of the internet to keep them informed about the hottest new music trends and I’ve shirked my responsibility. I’m so sorry, father, but you heard that thing about the baby birds, right?
Q.
As my penance, I will listen to Yeezus ten times and pray to mother Bey five times. Amen.
Rating: 2.9/10
MP3: Atmosphere “Mrs. Interpret”
Buy: iTunes
Fucking brilliant!