Welcome to Mixdown, an ongoing series where Pitchfork staffers and contributors talk about mixtapes, mixes, and other beat-based ephemera that may not be covered in our reviews section but are worth discussing. Today, Wesley Case, Meaghan Garvey, and Corban Goble discuss new singles by Nicki Minaj and Lil Wayne as well as tapes from King Mez and Noelz Vedere.
Corban Goble: Everything I knew about the new Nicki single—that it was co-written by Dr. Luke, that it was called “Pills N Potions”, that artwork—did not prepare me for what it actually ended up sounding like. Does this track make you more or less excited for The Pink Print?
Meaghan Garvey: This isn’t my favorite new Nicki song, but I’m so psyched to see that her return to “real hip-hop” (fart noise) was a troll move, to some degree. I couldn’t be more down for her rappity-rap songs this year, but what that obscurs is the fact that there was rappity-rap all over her last album, it was just easy to write them off because they were over sparkly beats. The whole idea of “Mixtape Nicki” is, to me, a bit of a fallacy; she raps way better now than she did in 2009. That said, I totally cried to “Pills N Potions” and I’m not ashamed.
Wesley Case: Co-sign the fact Nicki’s been rapping since Day One, and she’s never stopped. Like Meaghan, I’ve loved all of the loosies she’s offered in the lead-up to The Pink Print but “Pills N Potions” is not for me—which is fine, since I’ve always found her singles hit-or-miss anyway. (Really, what’s topping “Stupid Hoe”?) I’m sure the more I hear this song—and I’m expecting it to ring out all summer—the more it will click, but I was frankly surprised Dr. Luke produced it. It lacks his trademark saccharine oomph; I can’t tell if it feels unfinished or if the song is more powerful without constant fireworks. Lyrically, Nicki’s approach works for me because it’s a more substantive “real” (emotionally complex, filled with equal amounts of hurt and hope) than telling us these rappers are her sons. Those lines are still cool, too, but you can sink your teeth into this.
Her label boss and mentor, Lil Wayne, has been busier lately, too. He and Drake got the ball rolling with “Believe Me”, and then came the sorta-sharp “D’Usse”. Earlier this week, his Weezy Wednesday vlog previewed a silly banger called “Tina Turn Up Needs a Tune Up". Are you two feeling the supposed revitalization of Weezy?
CG: My eternal faith in Lil Wayne’s ability stipulates that if CV isn’t a classic, I have a lot of hard questions to ask myself.
MG: I didn’t actually know what D’usse was until Jay Z’s cringey “do say so myself” line on “Drunk In Love”, so personally I’m just psyched that I can replace that association. But “D’usse” is incredible, the kind of soulful stuff that might’ve popped up around Tha Carter II. And Wayne brings up one of life’s biggest enigmas here: How many fish did Hootie blow? Someone has to ask these tough questions, and I’m glad it’s Wayne.
WC: OK, good, so I’m not going crazy. It’s been interesting to see people comment “Dedication 2 Wayne is back!” in response to these songs. It shows how thirsty rap fans are for A) Wayne to be unbelievably great again and B) an epic run from an unhinged artist. (Get well, Gucci!) But as a Wayne stan with both measured expectations and high Tunechi standards, I think he’s been on a creative roll lately (his verse on “Senile” is Purple Haze-era Cam’ron, and he steals “Thug Cry” from Ross with the simple swing he adds to “I kill these niggas with silence”), and it bodes well for Tha Carter V. I like these recent verses and songs because you can hear and feel his wheels turning again. We wanted him to leave Rikers and dazzle us immediately, but it’s not that easy. At the very least, it should be better than Tha Carter IV, and in 2014, I’ll take that.
King Mez: Long Live the King
CG: Though North Carolina rapper King Mez’s new tape has been out for a little bit, the project has been getting more attention as time passes. Meaghan and Wesley, what did you like or dislike about Long Live the King? King Mez is a risky name, first of all—one could easily dismiss as King Meh, amirite. (Also could you both fax me your signed contracts promising you will never stop going in before you respond, thx.)
WC: Or is it King Mezmerize, word to System of a Down? I, for one, am a sucker for the type of thoughtful ride-out music found all over Long Live the King. Throughout the 12-track tape, my ears would latch onto bars rather naturally (name-dropping Puffy's ex Kim Porter on “Flight” will do that, but then it leads to: “What you think because she call me 'her Mez' mean I’ma buy her Hermes purses?”) and then I’d rewind to unpack them. There’s a lot of dense writing on the tape, but it’s never showy—Mez sounds even-keeled even at his most vulnerable or introspective. You into it, Meaghan?
MG: I’m definitely getting some strong J. Cole vibes from this project, which, I mean… maybe it’s just a North Carolina thing. Admittedly, though, he’s definitely got bars—and a more interesting ear for beats than Mr. Cole World No Blanket. Still, things get a little preachy at times. He compares his verses to theses and chess at one point. “Morris” is definitely the standout for me here. He says “some of the lamest people I ever met were millionaires” on there, which is kind of a reverse double humblebrag.
CG: The sound of this tape is interesting; I didn’t really attach to the lyrics as much, but it seems like Mez struck a good balance. How would you guys describe the sound? It’s like “atmospheric boom-bap” or something? Or one time I saw a SoundCloud tag that said “ethereal trap” which maybe makes no sense, but maybe it makes all of the sense in the world.
WC:“Ethereal trap” seems as apt as “cloud rap” to me, so I won’t hate. Sonically, it reminds me of another fully formed 2014 project, Isaiah Rashad’s Cilvia Demo, though LLTK is a bit less adventurous. But there are similar elements that work: clipped vocal samples, strings, boom-bap drums, and a constant layer of haze that backs up the “atmospheric” tag. Like Cole, Mez makes some of his beats, too, so maybe that’s why he sounds so sure-footed to me. (Also like Cole: Mez can fall too in love with his own voice and wordplay, to the point of dulling himself.)
MG: I just think this dude is kinda boring and he likes Reggie Miller too much.
Noelz Vedere: Bittersweet Victory
CG: Although I think the popular opinion is that the phrase “Chicago rap” refers to hard-headed drill music, someone like Noelz Vedere (among others) shows that there’s a lot of colors in the kaleidoscope. Like, there’s someone in the Chicago landscape that has a thought of, “Hey, maybe I should reach out to Freddie Gibbs and Sir Michael Rocks!” Meaghan, as our Chicago spokesperson, what did you make of this? Bittersweet Victory reminds me a little bit of Chance the Rapper, in terms of how Noelz builds his songs, but without as much innate charisma or creativity.
MG: The past year’s actually seen a kind of backlash against drill sounds. They’re still pretty dominant locally, but the combination of Chance and Vic Mensa’s ascent—and a dearth of almost-guilt about the implications of supporting glorified violence—have turned things around, especially to people outside the city. Noelz Vedere is from the north side of Chicago, which is not really known for pumping-out rap because it’s the “nice” part of the city. A lot of the time, north side rappers wear their Kanye influence on their sleeve, which also holds true here. Wesley, your thots?
WC: No need to listen further than the opener “Promise Land” to hear the Kanye influence. It starts a bit solemn and then swells in its final minute to a climax (a la the Late Registration track “Bring Me Down”). “God” gets mentioned as Charlie Wilson-inspired vocals add to the build-up, and then, finally, a slightly distorted guitar solo, like “Gorgeous” on My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy. A part of me naturally finds it heartening that this younger Chicago generation wears its debt to Mr. West on their sleeves. But really, Bittersweet Victory left me scratching my head more than anything else. Noelz can rap, clearly, but it’s all over the place. Meaghan, what else did you take from it?
MG: It definitely tries to mash every Kanye album into one project, which kind of neuters all of those different eras. “Blackout” is like a watered-down, bizarro “New Slaves”, and that sitting right next to Late Registration worship makes no sense to me. Also, no offense, but [Gretchen Wieners voice] people really need to stop trying to make Sir Michael Rocks happen.