Diamond District

Not much of a post, but I wanted everyone to check this out.



The whole album is being freely distributed via torrent sites. I don't know if they have plans to press this up, but they should. Download it here

FAIL

There is a man named Asher Roth, and I lived in a much happier world before I knew of his existence.

Exhibit A

Ok, so you say, it’s all in good fun. Too easy to hate on. Too much a whorish and tacky affair to take seriously. And, there’s a sense of humor here. But, exhibit B:




Not the best thing to be said over “A Milli,” not the most intelligent or even clever critique, but it is scathing. It is rewarding in some way.

I’m not going headlong into the delicate subjects of race, privilege, fame, and success in Hip Hop. Just because I’ve been catching up on Dilla, Madlib, and DOOM doesn’t mean I can throw my weight around like I’ve been invested in the genre long enough. But a piece of shit is a piece of shit. That’s all fine as long as a piece of shit doesn’t become this year’s frat rock party jam, and the panting and desperate record industry descends upon us with it in their talons.

Ash could have made anything out of himself. He is an internet phenom, riding on the success of marginally impressive mixtapes. He could have picked used his minor wave of hype and step up and refine the humor and critique of his A Milli freestyle. The fixation on minutiae, conversational delivery, reminds me of Mike Skinner, at least for a couple seconds. But now he’s hip-hop’s response to Tucker Max.
The educated, aware, marginally talented young privileged white kid who squanders his talent and makes a clown of himself. He’s someone who realizes how fucked up his situation is, but takes the money and fucking dances. His only solace is that his success proves how vapid his fans and critics are to give him the success and attention. Or more depressingly, the former doesn’t even apply. He has never questioned his actions.

Royksopp - Junior

Bourgeois comfort from Norway. Coming from a particularly abyssmal second album "the (mis)understanding" (which was so saturated with the sweatstains of Ibiza it could barely warrent a second listen) Royksopp come up with an entirely different strategy: to make music for those of us who never stopped listening to early Air albums and think the Avalanches are still cool. And you know what? It works like a charm. Good electronic music that is not meant to be danced to has been few and far between. Sure theres been a few since the turn of the millenium who fulfill a similar role, such as Ratatat or J Dilla, but its just not same. Sure this kind of music could easily be heard in car commercials or pretentious chic restaurants, but just because the ad agencies and boutique entrepeneurs of this world are poaching this music left and right doesn't mean that these modest sweedish lads are actually angling for it (the way moby does, although he'd be the first to deny it). And even if they were, the temporary thrill of putting on some imaginary white leather ankle boots and being a european fashionista for just 40 minutes at home is far better than actually being one. Well worth the price of momentary bourgeois comprimise.