If you’re waiting for links to my extracurricular work on Passion of the Weiss, you’ll be largely left languishing. The majority of self-promo is left to Twitter. Follow me so I can regale you with Drake barbs and Quinoa references. Or if you’re wisely social media averse, I do write something daily for the LA Times’ Pop & Hiss. The exception is someone like Serengeti, who deserves the added attention more than any rapper in recent memory.
David Cohn has been writing his scrambled screeds, incisive comedy, and perversely endearing character sketches for a decade. All to the ignorance of the mainstream rap world and even most of the underground, who would prefer microwaved neo boom-bap or soft batch pseudo-conscious gibberish. My LA Weekly feature attempts to remedy this. Recommended for those who like psychedelic shops, polish sausages, onions or Brian Dennehy. The article comes equipped with a bonus endorsement from the Weekly’s new music editor, Ben Westhoff, who calls ‘Geti his favorite rapper extant.
The paper is also premiering the most poignant song from Serengeti’s Family & Friends. Detailing the disintegration of a relationship amidst heroin abuse, “Tracks” is heavy in the way that Marty McFly used the word — which is more meaningful I think. And while it offers arguably the most depth of Cohn’s deep body of work, by no means is his catalogue all melancholy dirges. He has been known to teach Grimm, collaborate with Playa Hamm of Penthouse Players Clique, and sip cases of O’Douls in character as a 48-year old white Ditka aficionado. Though he would never admit it, he is even better than Berenger.