7 Ways to Get Out of Your XXL Freshman Freestyle

Earlier today, while doomscrolling on Twitter, I came across a screenshot posted by rap scribe Eric Diep from the Summer 2024 issue of XXL Magazine (s/o Eric for still having a subscription). The excerpt includes behind-the-scenes details about the filming of the XXL Freshman List cyphers. Seconds into reading the bit my eyes started to bulge, I dragged my chair in a little closer to my laptop because I couldn’t believe what I was reading: “The shoots didn’t go off without a hitch, though. One freshman got so shook over the cypher that he ditched the shoot literally five minutes before it was going to be filmed. He pretended to go to his car for clothing, hopped in and got outta there.”

Yo.

Oh My God.

Yes.

A rapper did The Race. (The version with the DJ Phat tags only, of course.)

Hit the Katt Williams 4.4 40 yard dash.

Hopped in their Hellcat and sped the fuck away from Vanessa Satten’s lair, all because they didn’t want to rap.

I’ve been laughing about it all damn day.

The piece doesn’t name the rapper (lame), but they say they did not remove them from the Freshman cover, so once the cypher drops we will know who it is based on which of the 11 is missing. And I have one important question: Is there footage? Please, let there be footage. Imagine we get grainy security cam footage of Hunxho, with Keyshia Cole on his arm, sweating like Ray Liotta when the helipcoters were hovering. Imagine we get a shaky iPhone clip of 4Batz slipping his ski mask on, hoping it gives him the invisibility powers of Sue Storm. Imagine the cypher starts with a cold open where Rich Amiri combat rolls off the screen, into the back of an Uber. I can’t wait until we find out who it was, please tell me your theories. Though, I kind of feel bad for whoever it is. They got put on blast in the most embarrassing way: Print. So I want to help future XXL Freshman out, and came up with 7 different ways for them to get out of their freestyle.

1. Escape through the vents like Martin Lawrence in Blue Streak.

2. Ask the other XXL cover stars to play a game of Hide-N-Seek and disappear for weeks because you’re just really that good at Hide-N-Seek.

3. Pretend on the trip to the shoot you got into the same situation as Rick Ross in the “Speedin” video.

   

   

   

   

4. Keep rapping in a Toronto accent until they remove you.

5. Say that your barber just rescheduled and you have to go meet him now or else you’ll have to wait until next week.

6. Trick the XXL staff into going into the teleporation pods from the The Fly and turn them into flies so they can’t film anymore.

7. Keep spilling hot soup on Southside’s DJ set up.

Quick reccs:

tdf and Perc40’s “Samples 2024”

In the old days of SoundCloud, producers stitched together snippets of beats they had for sale and called them “sample” packs. Nowadays these drops are more like beat tapes. That is true of tdf and Perc40’s “Samples 2024,” as the two 808-obsessed crackpots come together for almost nine minutes of instrumentals that sound like if Pi’erre Bourne fell asleep on his keyboard. Complete with random edgelord skits and interludes, it’s brain scrambling music, where airy synths morph into blasts of noise and explosions. As the beats drop over and over again, it feels almost like being clobbered in the head with a baseball bat by Aaron Judge. If you can’t make it to the end I won’t blame you, but if you do, congrats on earning your badge as a real sicko. 

Oliver Stone’s Salvador

I guess I’m an Oliver Stone guy? I didn’t realize it, but I love Platoon and Any Given Sunday and Wall Street and now Salvador. I’ve been thinking about Salvador since I saw it for the first time over a month ago, the James Woods performance felt like the type of performance I’ve been waiting my entire life to see. It’s as manic as Richard Widmark in Night and the City and as smarmy as Shooter McGavin. Sure, a lot of James Woods roles are like that (he’s a wild boy in Cop), but it hits so much harder inside of the conspiratorial, corrupt, and haywire worlds (realities?) Stone is so good at depicting.

Kyoko Okazaki’s Pink

She has a pet alligator. It’s perfect.

Hooping with the old heads at the park

Most Saturday and Sunday mornings you can catch me at a park (that I will not name on the internet) where the basketball courts are attentively run by 40 + year old West Indian, Jewish, and Italian men not switching on screens, crashing the boards like Josh Hart, and fighting over calls. There’s nothing I look forward to more every week. Run with the old heads every now and then.

TV Diary 3

The Leaks is back from the dead like Dusty May era Michigan hoops. (Please, please, please look at Dusty May’s playlist. He’s a real sadboy.) I’m trying to use this thing more like a blog, sorry if you didn’t sign up for that, but making an actual blog would have been a shit ton of work that I didn’t want to do. Since that last time I wrote a TV diary in 2020 not much has changed except that I’ve been really out on scripted shows lately. There’s a lot of dogshit, expensive reboots and streaming service filler out there that I got tired of dedicating 10 hours to. Last year I think my breaking point was watching that dumb-ass HBO adaptation of The Last of Us which would not stop beating us over the head with the traumatic backstories of every single character with more than three seconds of screentime. (It’s The Leftovers without the patience; season 1 of Yellowjackets without wondering if one of the girls is gonna’ turn each other into the toppings at Cuts and Slices. Eating oxtail pizza should be a sin.) So I’ve mostly been sticking to my reality tv reliables, even though some of those are not what they once were. But at least they’re invested in multi-season storytelling and aren’t trying to convince me that Bill Hader is an auteur or some bullshit.

Survivor 

Survivor is in its We Don’t Trust You era. By that I mean, Future and Metro were obviously a lot better years ago, but even when they’re clearly worse, they’re still cooler than most things. Season 46 of Survivor, like the rest of the 40s, barely feels like the same show as David vs. Goliath or Cambodia or Philippines or Micronesia. No longer a strategic, psychological experiment that forced contestants of different classes, beliefs, and personalities to duke it out for a million dollars but instead Jeff Probst’s summer camp. But it’s still watchable because dropping a group of people on an island for a big sum of money is always a little fun, even if the recurring location in Fiji is basically a Hollywood set these days. The main problem is casting. Over the years Survivor has gotten more racially diverse, but everyone feels as if they could exist in the same social circles. A bunch of whiners that all seem like they pay four thousand dollar rent in Williamsburg. It’s why my favorite character this season is Q, a Black Memphis dude who you can tell the rest of the cast has never met anyone like before. 

Thank God Survivor Australia is keeping the real alive:

How they should be living on Survivor:

Shogun

Game of Thrones has done irreparable damage to TV. I’m through six episodes of Shogun and I’m not sure how much more of this CGI gibberish I can take. Every episode is basically: Character walks in a room. Blah, blah, blah. Another character walks in a room. Blah, blah, blah. A drone shot of a cartoon Japan. The white guy does some more blabbing. Cliffhanger. Repeat. 

The only Japanese-culture swagger jacking white guy I respect:

Mr. & Mrs. Smith 

Uh, amazing television. Donald Glover and Maya Erskine definitely, really, surely have fantastic chemistry. They have the greatest outfits. Oh my God, they’re like models but real people. 100%. This show takes the concept of the original Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie Mr. & Mrs. Smith, which was a husband and wife who didn’t know each other were spies and flips it on its head, with two spies who are instead faking the marriage part. Mind blown. So clever. We need season two immediately. Get to work Donald, please.

Dear Donald, don’t read below this. 

(The show is completely mid but maybe if he gets really into it he can stay out of the booth. He’s already announced new Childish Gambino music and we all have to do our part before that comes to fruition.)  

Curb Your Enthusiasm 

The other day I fired up the pilot of Curb Your Enthusiasm and I couldn’t believe that the jokes and rhythms of the show weren’t that much different than the ones in its final season, nearly 24 years later. Sure, Larry’s last hurrah isn’t as consistently funny as it once was, but it’s still all incredibly low-stakes bits of Larry being a jackass. The last episode is bad, Curb is always at its worst when it’s concerned with an overarching plot (well, except The Blacks and Seinfeld season). Yet I was still sort of emotional as I watched Leon and Susie and Jeff and Cheryl deal with Larry’s B.S. one more time. The last shot of them all on the plane arguing, as if that will be their lives ’til their day comes, stuck with me.

The Challenge All-Stars 4 

A level of washed that I hope to live long enough to experience. Like watching Gordon Hayward check-in to an OKC Thunder game or when they play that Fabolous remix of Drake and Cash Cobain’s “Calling For You” on Power 105.1. 

Vanderpump Rules 

Scandoval saved Vanderpump Rules. Scandoval killed Vanderpump Rules. Tom and Rachel’s affair gave the show new life, and it also tilted the show off its axis. It may never come back from that. Since they all stopped working at Sur years ago, the show has suffered finding an excuse to believably film them all hanging out without veering into Real Housewives-style producer organized trips and events, which is what the show has become. It’s faker than ever. They clearly all hate each other and are only around one another because it pays for their bills and botox. The current season feels almost as bottom of the barrel as eight and nine, where they were all obsessed with manipulating their image to present themselves as mature, therapy-going, better people. Fuck off. It’s a show about the worst, most selfish, and desperate group of transplants to ever be on reality TV, striving for a Hollywood dream that constantly slips through their fingers like a pile of sand. But I refuse to give up on it, because deep down, I know, a Vanderpump resurgence is as inevitable as KDB lifting that Premier League trophy.

Jujustsu Kaisen

The currently airing shonens are just not for me. I still watch, but it’s hard to be invested in a bunch of chess pieces.

Hajime no Ippo

Been plugging a few anime holes lately, Hajime no Ippo is a bit repetitive, as sports anime tend to be, but lives up to the hype. And the droning, ambient-ish songs on the soundtrack go crazy. Need tdf to flip this:

20 Women Vs. 1 Rapper 

I’ve watched too many episodes. A new migraine-inducing societal low, you can’t look away. Possibly a YouTube reality show bleaker than the game shows to the death in The Running Man. Who knows? Maybe that’s next? We already have the police state. 

Colin From Accounts/One Day 

The best rom-coms are on TV. I’m ready to put Colin From Accounts and One Day up there with Love Life season 2 and the first few seasons of Starstruck. I watched Colin From Accounts, a sweet Australian will-they-won’t-they, in 48 hours, which I never do. And burned through the gimmicky yet fully realized One Day, an adaptation of British author David Nicholls’ novel where each episode follows a random 24 hours per year in the course of a 20 year relationship, in about a week. Both had me invested in the relationships, especially One Day, since I’m now completely in the bag for Ambika Mod and Leo Woodall (the dude from White Lotus season 2 who looks like he was in a bathroom stall with the ’86 Mets). 

Summer House/Summer House: Martha’s Vineyard 

Both the white people Summer House and the Black people Summer House are cooking. The white one has been fun, despite the main plot being that Lindsay and Carl’s engagement is crumbling. Carl is channeling Vanderpump Rules by trying so hard to paint himself as the honorable victim, even though he’s so clearly the villain. (That might be Drake’s next move in his beef with Kendrick.) The other real storyline is the budding relationship between Ciara and newcomer West, who works at fucking Complex. He’s a sports guy not a rap guy, though, I sometimes forget that Complex does other shit. Well, he seems fine. Their mutual crush is a breath of fresh air for the show, and he’s Ciara’s type, which she admits to be white guys who have Black friends. Weird. Whatever. Black Summer House is even more fun. The girls are out of their minds and the guys are giant bozos, great TV. Alex, who is John Legend’s goatee wearing cousin, might be an all-timer. A wannabe R&B singer with no self-awareness and hides his fuckery behind meditation and speaking like he’s on his therapist’s couch. You are a star, Alex. 

Not entirely sure what to do with this newsletter, but it’s here so might as well use it. Send me what you’ve been watching!

Top 20 movies I saw for first time in 2022

I really didn’t go to the movies that much this year, and wasn’t tripping about it. There were a couple times I had fun like watching Jake Gyllenhaal pay homage to the zooted out action stars of the ’80s in Ambulance or Tom Cruise pay homage to himself in TG: Maverick, but generally I was so bored by the ideas that not even a gifted Alamo Drafthouse pass could get me out to the theater all that much. Instead I sat on my ass and burned through a bunch of DVDs from the NYPL and put up with the unpredictability of streaming services (A random top 5 streamers: Criterion, TCM, Hi-Yah!, ScreenPix, YouTube) as I watched movies from the recent and distant past any chance I could. I was really feeling the 50s this year, mostly in the seedy noirs and over the top westerns; every time I watch them I think to myself that if these were made now they would be way more realistic and therefore worse. I also was into the 80s, a decade I used to hate because of how corny it all is, but have come around to as I ventured further into the excess and craziness of B-movies and Hong Kong flicks of the time. Here’s a list in alphabetical order:

Alien (1979, Ridley Scott)

One of those movies I thought I saw without already seeing just because it’s so popular, but it’s way harder than any words can describe.

Black Girl (1966, Ousmane Sembène)

You can really do so much in 60 minutes when you’re not just trying to get people to click on “Play next episode.”

Drug War (2012, Johnnie To)

I get Johnnie To now.

Elvis (2022, Baz Luhrmann)

Fucking crazy. A bunch of choices made for no other reason than they’re cool.

Flashpoint (1984, William Tannen)

It’s got the dumbest fake deep #America monologue ever and it’s delivered by Red from That ’70s Show. I ran it back so many times that I started to believe it.

Gunman’s Walk (1958, Phil Karlson)

This is how Michael Imperioli should have did his son in White Lotus S2 (great tv).

Inferno (1953, Roy Ward Baker)

A Robert Ryan survival thriller with a few of the only moments I’ve ever been into 3-D (I did like Spy Kids 3 as a kid, though).

Jack’s Back (1988, Rowdy Herrington)

A year before he made Road House, Rowdy Herrington ripped off a movie that comes close to being as nuts and not just because there are two James Spaders.

Mississippi Masala (1991, Mira Nair)

Sarita Choudhury might be the only person to ever out charm Denzel on screen.

I feel him.

Nightfall (1956, Jacques Tourneur)

Aldo Ray is built like a racist defensive end (call him Aldo Bosa) but you still root for him.

The gawd Eddie Muller on Aldo Ray:

No Down Payment (1957, Martin Ritt)

Peak melodrama. Belongs in the Sirk conversation.

Peking Opera Blues (1986, Tsui Hark)

All the converging plots and batshit tonal shifts of so many of the Hong Kong actioners of this era, but grounded by Brigitte Lin, Sally Yeh, and Cherie Chung forming an all time trio (up there with the Migos and the Shield).

Red River (1948, Howard Hawks)

I was reading William Goldman’s Adventures in the Screen Trade this year and in it he talks about Montgomery Clift like he’s a God. It was kind of confusing until I watched Red River.

Secret Admirer (1985, David Greenwalt)

I’d take this over all the John Hughes movies tbh, wild that a year after this C. Thomas Howell was starring in Soul Man.

The Barefoot Contessa (1954, Joseph. L Mankiewicz)

The Barefoot Contessa has the scale of ’60s epics, the melancholy of ’70s character studies, and the dated perspective of the batch of ’50s melodramas that nobody watches anymore. It’s a perfect mix. I like this Pauline Kael quote about it a lot: “It's hard to believe Mankiewicz ever spent an hour in Hollywood; the alternative supposition is that he spent too many hours there.”

Look at this shit, Ava Gardner is walking on water; that’s a fucking movie star right there.

The Duel (1971, Chang Cheh)

John Woo before John Woo. The final death scene makes me think about this MarijuanaXO and Joe Pablo song:

Sometimes it also make me think about this Summrs song:

The Five Heartbeats (1991, Robert Townsend)

Hits all of the familiar beats of a standard biopic, but Robert Townsend zooms in on the characters (Leon Robinson in a bag) and Black music which distinguishes it. He’s really one of the greats.

The Fly (1986, David Cronenberg)

Thought I would hate this but by the end I was on the side of Geena Davis should have been more chill about Jeff Goldblum just wanting to do a lil fusion dance.

The Sword (1980, Patrick Tam)

Abandoning everything you love for a journey that takes up half of your life, only for it ultimately to be unfulfilling. Too real.

Adam Cheng wondering if it was all worth it (it was not):

Urban Cowboy (1980, James Bridges)

I love every movie where John Travolta is a complete dickhead so much that I almost put Perfect—the flick where Travolta is a journalist working on a game-changing story about *checks notes* people fucking after aerobics class—on this list. Instead, I’ll go with Travolta throwing tantrums about his wife (Debra Winger) being way cooler at riding mechanical bulls than him.

Favorite movie actors this year: Yuen Biao, Regina Hall, James Spader, Keke Palmer, Fred Williamson, Michelle Yeoh, Ice-T, Jimmy Stewart, David Chiang, Richard Widmark, Kim Novak, Sigourney Weaver, Omar Epps, Arthur Kennedy, Roy Cheung

Movies that almost made this list: Pushover (1954), Unforgiven (1992), The Prodigal Son (1981), The River’s Edge (1957), Dream Lover (1993), Ambulance (2022), TG Maverick (2022), Duel to the Death (1983), Canyon Passage (1946), Black Book (2006), Cops vs. Thugs (1975), The Man from Laramie (1955)

Best movie convo: from North Shore (1987):

Send me your lists!

109 Rx Papi songs ranked

Ranking every song Rx Papi uploaded to his YouTube page this year

1. “Anxiety (Walls Closing In)” 

This year you were being sad to Phoebe Bridgers’ Punisher while I was being sad to this. 

2. “16 Fever” 

Rx Papi says he would win a fight against Jet Li, IP Man, Liu Kang, and Superman. I believe him. 

3. “Nancy” 

Opening line of the year is clearly, “Young nigga stressed the fuck out/I feel like the black nigga on Get Out.” 

4. “Darc Thoughts” 

5. “Zebra Cakes”

6. “I Forgot Who I Was” 

He brags that he looks better than King Tut, who according to Google looked like this:  

7. “Drac and Josh” 

90% of Rx Papi music videos feature him drinking or smoking and staring at himself in a mirror.

 

8. “Shorty Rider” 

9. “Newnew” 

Rx Papi claims he looks like Tom Hanks and his girl looks like Ellen. Up for debate. 

10. “Melrose Ave” 

11. “I Forgot Where I Was Goin” 

12. “2 Felonies and 3 Warrants in Different States” 

Rx Papi and Rx Nephew definitely have the most confusing beef of the year.

13. “Classical” 

A reliable source told me they teach this in music theory at NYU. 

14. “Far Away” 

15. “Boss Top” 

16. “Papi Ruthless” 

17. “Missy Elliott” 

No idea what “Walk in this bitch like Monta Ellis” is supposed to mean in 2020, but it’s hard anyway. 

18. “Free Bobby Shmurda” 

“Adios muchacho/556 like Mojo Jojo” Papi is clearly bilingual. 

19. “Numbers” 

20. “Drake” 

21. “How I Feel” 

22. “Couples Therapy” 

Nora Ephron who?

23. “Johnny Tran Wit Da Snakeskin Pants” 

24. “Boosie Fade” 

Rx Papi needs to face off against Bobby Valentino in a Verzuz. 

25. “I Don’t Wanna Talk About It” 

Rx Papi could have made the Moesha theme song. 

26. “Luol Deng” 

Somebody send this to Luol. 

27. “Mr Magoo” 

Honestly had no idea who Mr Magoo was. After Googling I learned he was some bald headed animated dude from the 1950s. I learn a lot of important things from Rx Papi.

28. “Cousin Tito” 

“I don’t like to look in the mirror too long/I don’t know the nigga who staring back at me”

29. “Barnetta” 

30. “Percocet” 

31. “Napoleon Dynamite” 

“My bitch bad like Condoleezza Rice” 

32. “5.56 God” 

33. “Car Lot” 

34. “5am In a Bad Mood” 

Papi says he walks in the trap like Larenz Tate, and I know he means Larenz in Menace II Society, but I’m pretending he means Larenz in Love Jones. 

35. “Watever U Need” 

36. “Silk Da Shoccer” 

37. “It’s Jordy Callin” 

38. “High In Detroit” 

39. “V-Live” 

 

40. “Peewee Longway” 

41. “20 times”

42. “No Ride”

43. “All The Time” 

44. “Nine 11” 

45. “I’ll Clean It Later” 

46. “Moet”

47. “Big Slither” 

“They hated on Jesus for showing love” #facts 

48. “Bedroom” 

49. “Boy Who Cried Wolf” 

50. “Kangaroo Jacc” 

I think Rx Papi thinks Al Pacino was in Kangaroo Jack. 

51. “Haitian Donnie”

52. “Don’t Change Ya Number” 

53. “Bird Box” 

54. “I Don’t Bump Blake Money No More” 

Rx Papi beefs are hard to keep up with, I respect all of the hate in his heart though. 

55. “Billy Ado” 

56. “Patience” 

57. “In Tha Club”

58. “Shadloc” 

59. “I left my car keys” 

60. “Abtar There” 

61. “First Day Out” 

62. “Runtz So Good” 

63. “Runtz So Damn Good” 

64. “King of New York”

“I love when papi talk about robbing ppl and selling crack 🤞🏽”- YouTube comment from Rx Nephew 

65. “Corner Boy”

66. “Criminal Intent” 

Sorry, Veeze did it better. 

67. “Bernie Mac” 

68. “Juelz”

69. “ReddMan&Meth” 

 

70. “DMX” 

71. “Wildout Tia 1.5” 

72. “1 Take” 

73. “Bacc 2 Bacc” 

74. “HalfCourt” 

75. “Speedbump Curt” 

76. “Wildout Tia 2” 

77. “Fucc You If You Hatein” 

Some of the titles could use some workshopping, but also that’s what makes them perfect. 

78. “3 6 Mafia” 

79. “Sweetest Taboo” 

Sade cleared this sample just for Rx Papi.

80. “SRT” 

81. “Doggystyle”

82. “Scratchin Off” 

83. “BoosieBoo”

84. “Hulk Hogan” 

85. “Real Deal Slither” 

86. “Autopsy”

87. “Cartier Jigg” 

88. “Adlibs”

89. “6 AM” 

90. “Truly Sorry”

91. “Off Beat” 

92. “Kissing Cousins”

“You on a air mattress in my living room/You was cold as fuck in the living room/Had an extra blanket I ain’t give it to you” #deep 

93. “Like To Do” 

94. “UAV” 

95. “305 Trenches” 

96. “Money Ragg Swagg” 

97. “D.A.N. (Dawg Ass Nigga)” 

98. “Awela” 

99. “Paul Wall” 

Seven minutes of Papi and Nephew is stressful. 

100. “Drug Addict”

101. “Lilo and Stitch” 

102. “My Brothers Keeper” 

103. “Dance Moves”

104. “Bugg Pt. 2” 

105. “Make America Trap Again” 

Predictably Rx Papi’s politics are a mixed bag.

106. “Wok Talk” 

107. “Took It Back” 

108. “Lucky Bandit” 

109. “Jeep”

     Good music from Rx Papi this year. Let me know if I should rank Rx Nephew songs next.

Songs new and old

Music we've been listening to over the last month or so

Jadakiss: “Still Feel Me” 

By Alphonse

There was nobody I hated more than Jadakiss. As a kid, my Dad would leave me in the backseat of his car with a plate full of griot—Haitian fried pork—and I would listen to the radio as he ran his errands. Of course, it was Hot 97, and shit, did they love Jadakiss. It felt like I was trapped in the backseat, forgotten somewhere in Brooklyn, left to sit and stew as Jadakiss went, “Aha!” He was everywhere; he had songs of his own, songs with The Lox, songs with D-Block. And when I thought I finally escaped, sure enough, he would appear as a guest feature—ready to make my life hell. Jadakiss once said he’s never made a bad verse. Years ago I would have laughed at the thought, but as I’ve gotten older, my love for Jada has grown. It’s now at a point where if I’m ever in a reflective mood, I’ll put on a record from Kiss of Death, and suddenly, I’m back in the backseat of a car with a mouthful of fatty pork listening to Jada.

Bill Withers: “Can We Pretend” 

By Myles Andrews-Duve

It feels weird to want some refuge when all you really know right now is home. But that’s where niggas is at. Because idk a lot of this don’t make sense—we in an unfamiliar world where time has lost shape, and protective masks hide expressions of emotion. So, I don’t know, I let this ‘Justments by Bill Withers run all day and am reminded that he used to be with us and that at one point these songs felt like home. I find comfort in the easiness of “Can We Pretend”—a serene world where bass lines hum to you and harps bring some harmony. It is the musical equivalent of clouds breaking open to shed light: The words read prophetic in a moment where there is no yesterday of note, and all we can do is give pretend meaning to the present moment—hoping for brighter colors in the world of tomorrow. He is singing about love, but what is our love if not a reflection of the world we know? Sometimes, ironically, one we can’t stand. And so I often want to pretend as if “the pain is gone,” and we can “go our merry way,” and it can feel like the closest thing to that is finding solace in the warmth of this music. Until the languor slips away, and we’re forced to stop pretending.

Follow Myles on Twitter here

Faye Webster: “In a Good Way” 

By Carolyn Bernucca

Music hasn’t been hitting the same lately, but Faye Webster’s new track, “In a Good Way,” has brought me out of my rut, at least for the time being. As someone who cries multiple times a day for a myriad of reasons, global pandemic or not, I welcome a song about crying from happiness—that’s my whole thing! What really gets me, though, is the extended instrumental break that happens right in the middle of the song. If soulmates are real, I think this interlude should play in your head when you meet one of yours. It’s lush and cinematic and invokes an overwhelming feeling of romance in every sense of the term. That feeling is demonstrated in the music video by Faye herself, as she dances around a stage in an impossibly metallic dress, while dozens of yellow happy face balloons descend from above; every time I watch, I tear up as they start to fall. There is a tendency right now to proclaim that “nothing matters,” jokingly or otherwise. When I’m listening to this song, during those 73 special, lyric-free seconds, I feel the opposite: Everything matters, it always has, it always will.

Follow Carolyn on Twitter here

Lil Bean: “Swervin’” [ft. ZayBang]   

By Jayson Buford 

Bay Area rappers Lil Bean and ZayBang make emotional bangers meant to represent the darkside of life in the streets. Bean is adept at making hooks and stunting while sounding like he is in conversation: ‘’I told baby she can leave if she want to/All this going back and forth is what I won’t do/People know understand what I go through/I just put my real life on these pro tools.’’ ZayBang is the foil: He is the one who doesn’t mince words. He’s the type of rapper who says you have to treat him like a boss because he is flexing on your father. Here, he opens his verse with a tribute to his late brother: “I miss my brother Eric; I just hate that we departed.’’ He talks about his paranoia and riding around town with his glock on him. This street music has the emotional pain the news won’t show you. Bean and Zay know exactly who they make music for, and it’s good to know we can count on them to usher us into their world. The streets are as scary as the times we’re living in. 

Follow Jayson on Twitter here

Britney Spears: “Get Naked (I Got a Plan)”

By Maddie Schwappach

Since becoming a born-again Britney fan a couple of years back, Britney Spears’ Blackout has become a point of comfort for me. Following her highly publicized breakdown in 2007, Spears released a masterful and haunting album reflecting a newfound gritty apathy. Since becoming trapped inside, Blackout’s nihilistic party girl anthems have a strange new appeal. These songs have always been from another world, and the distorted reality we’re stuck in now feels closer to it than ever. “Get Naked (I Got a Plan)” is particularly entrancing and features a campy level of sexuality superimposed on top of futuristic production. The pitched down backing vocals sneer “Baby, baby, baby, baby” to the point of absurdity behind Brit’s hyper-sexed vocals. Plinking 808s and breathy vocal samples underscore a pop song that fits in no time and no musical moment except its own. Sitting on my bedroom floor, illuminated by the glow of Roller Coaster Tycoon on my laptop, the chorus of “Get naked, get naked, get naked” lulls endlessly as hours pass, soundtracking an intoxicating swirl into oblivion. Isolation and boredom were absolutely not what Britney had in mind when crafting her surreal pop odyssey, but it suits her well.

Follow Maddie on Twitter here

The Ebonys: “It’s Forever.”

By Matthew Ritchie

With decreased social interaction during quarantine, there are fewer opportunities to have fulfilling emotional interactions throughout the day. To counteract this loneliness, I’ve launched myself headfirst into a treasure trove of old love songs. “It’s Forever,” The Ebonys’ 1973 song, elicits the same nostalgic feelings as an old vinyl crate that smells like your grandfather’s old cigar smoke. Drawing inspiration from the title, the track lasts for a dizzying seven minutes as the soul collective wails over delicate piano and strings production. The angelic production provides the perfect background as the Philadelphia group croons about everlasting devotional love: “Just as long as one and one is two / That’s how long / It’s gonna be me and you!” It’s the simplicity of their love that makes this track special. There are no grand, complicated displays of affection to woo their lovers. Their love is simple and constant, and it’s refreshingly direct. In the midst of a soul-crushing quarantine, the track has provided me with hope and satisfaction, as the sentiment of everlasting love provides a sliver of optimism within our pessimistic reality.  

Follow Matthew on Twitter here

Hi-C: “No Emotionzzz”

By Harley Geffner 

The Reptilian Club Boyz are an interdimensional portal into a world of demon reptiles, intergalactic vampires, Hello Kitty animation, and ’80s synth pop that coalesce to form shapes that can only be conceptualized mathematically. Rapper and producer Hi-C is one of the three key members, along with Diamondsonmydick (yes, that’s right) and Cartier’God, of the Based “cloud rap” tradition. Hi-C’s 3-track PRETTY D3MON ROKKSTARZZ EP is a truly special post-trap project that sounds like 2009 Jason Derulo did a shit ton of acid and hopped in a studio with a teenage Chief Keef and Spaceghostpurpp to trade quippy raps, warbling melodies, and weird plug-ins. It’s a spritely figurine guiding us through pitch black ocean waves on a contraption straight out of the Jetsons. This is the future of pop music. 

Follow Harley on Twitter here

Father: “Lynch Mob” 

By Dante Esser 

In a time where reality seems like an exaggerated nightmare, music often helps us retreat. I’ve found comfort in Father’s “Lynch Mob,” a song with an ironically macabre title, though it’s quite soothing. The opening strings sound like something cupid would play after striking you with a love arrow, and it makes sense: Father has a penchant for mixing sinister with lovely. Awful Records-newcomer SEANTHOMMONEY and seasoned producer Dexter Dukarus round out the track, and a nostalgic sample leads us into Father’s hypnotizing chorus: “If I fuck your bitch you gotta figure it out.” It sounds like a lullaby though it’s a threat. For a rap veteran, Father has a sublime command of melody, and he uses his problematic voice in a way only he can: he proclaims his boys in the function ’bout to n*gger it out. It makes me long for the days when getting ignorant in the function was an option. SEANTHOMONEY channels lil tracy, belting out a smooth supporting feature. The best phrase I can use to describe Father on tracks like this is “emotional thug.” Even gangsters need forehead kisses. 

Follow Dante on Twitter here

CJ Fly: “BLOCK PARTY” [ft. Kirk Knight]

By Brandon Callender

For years, I’ve been telling people I’m ready for college to be over, but I never thought it would end with me taking online exams in my childhood bedroom. I should’ve been running around Chapel Hill doing stupid shit with my friends, so that I could tell exaggerated stories to kids who ask me what college was like. What’s been hitting me the hardest is that I can’t go outside anymore; the feeling of spending a few minutes catching up with a friend I ran into is gone. Those were special moments. 

I don’t remember the last time I was into an album by a member of Pro Era who wasn’t Joey Bada$$, but I’ve spent time with RUDEBWOY, CJ Fly’s new album. “BLOCK PARTY,” one of the best songs on the album, is filled with the special moments that I’ve been missing lately. He balances a weird level of specificity and earnestness, specifically when he raps about getting drunk off of his first nutcracker and the smell of burning charcoal. CJ Fly isn’t the best singer, but the carefreeness of the hook makes you want to sing it, too. This song feels like it should be mad corny, but he avoids that entirely. I don’t know when we’ll be able to spend time with our friends outside again, but this song has been making me reflect on some of my favorite moments from the last four years at Chapel Hill. 

Follow Brandon on Twitter here

Thanks for reading hmu and read these writers