April 24, 2012

Tosten Burks is the target demographic.

Time for field results from 4/20. Those game-worn tracks that earned that grand honor of being played on repeat on such a holy day. May all your holiday activities have been full of Devin and Snoop, but dude, may all your future gatherings squeeze in these recent new smoke-stained triumphs. ‘Tis the season, homie.

That ADd+ would be good at this is completely unsurprising. “When Paris Smokes” is all confused rough xylophone, indica-drenched imagery and a southern-ass hook. Why aren’t these guys bigger again? They are as real as Big K.R.I.T. in all his glorious seriousness, or at least they’re less forced, less contrived. Definitely less tired as a concept. (I mean come on, can we just get that album already?) There is major rhetorical energy and a beautiful balance of Texas roots and artistic progression here. If K.R.I.T. is a modern Pimp C, Paris and Slim Gravy are today’s Nappy Roots. The Outkast comparisons are lazy. These guys are more gritty than that. And when I say that, I’m referring to actual grits.

Meanwhile, CoSS’s “Chief” is just perfect. The calm keyboard slaps and whispering sax are kept from being typically cloudy and slow by earnest snares and just enough guitar to maintain momentum without intruding. The royal “We shouldn’t have to continue to remind you about this man.” He and Numonics are a serious duo, plain and simple. Share some of that Blu & Exile fanboyism. Trust me, I know as well as one could possibly know how hard that is to do, but like, at least these two give us songs that are mastered. Ouch. But also, thank God.

The reason these are successful is, as it always is, that this field requires you to be able to talk compellingly about the reason for the season, not just point out that you got it in your sock. That’s chill, but not interesting. Co$$ gets points for his inspired accuracy and depth. This is storytelling with mountains of truth and by extension, insight. And the Dallas boys are just purely imaginative. They present a weed anthem anchored by a verse by someone who doesn’t do that stuff. It’s a song about hosting. How’s that for a twist? It’s all done not as a gimmicky construction but more because, well, just because. Pass the ga and hit that hoe. That’s why. Until next year.

MP3: Co$$ – “Chief” (Left-Click)

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