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, Meaghan Garvey, David Turner, and Wesley Case talk about Jaden Smith, Chief Keef, and Boosie Badass.
Meaghan Garvey: Jaden and Willow Smith momentarily #BrokeTheInternet earlier this week with their T Magazine feature, in which the Cool Teens discussed prana energy, the uselessness of driver’s ed, and the phenomenology of time. The next day, Jaden released Cool Tape Vol. 2, his second mixtape (his first one came out in 2012), via an app called the Jaden Experience; it’s essentially a mixtape in Tindr form. I went into Cool Tape as skeptical as one might reasonably be after hearing that we may be living in a hologram—and Jaden really blew me away! Along with some funny fake-deep teen platitudes, there are some seriously cool ideas in this tape. Am I sipping the Kool-Aid? Do you guys have your crystals at the ready for this Mixdown?
David Turner: Honestly I’m not sure if I understood half of what Jaden and Willow even said in that very based interview, but it was still a pleasure to read. The same could apply to Jaden’s Cool Tapes Vol. 2, but this appears to almost be a clearer document of his thoughts as a teen zeitgeist, focusing on his family, crushes and international travels. It’s not exactly original, but there is a sweetness to Jaden's worldview, especially in a track like "Symba", where everything is seemingly at his fingertips and he’s willing to question all of it at the same time. Even with production that is just as post-Everything as his thoughts, the overall warmth of the project makes it hard to not just want to give the kid a hug.
Wesley Case: Absolutely. My days of sleeping on Jaden Smith are over. So much of Cool Tapes Vol. 2 charms effortlessly, from the straightforward turn-up opener "Fire" to the trapped-in-his-head-and-enjoying-it "Zoned". He comes off as a wide-eyed 16-year-old, with a considerable amount of talent and ideas, trying to figure out the right tone and delivery for his disarming precociousness. The thing I miss most—and try to channel often—about my teenage years is insatiable curiosity about everything; Jaden comes off as a sponge, balancing contemporary influences (I hear Drake on "Breathe", Kendrick Lamar on "PCH" and Miguel a little bit everywhere) and golden-age-era hip-hop ("Symba" sounds like an artist very familiar with Midnight Marauders). We all seem to agree this is really good, so what’s everyone’s favorite track?
MG: "Electric" made a really strong impression: that raw, sleazy Motor City Drum Ensemble-style beat that climaxes into, like, Diwali Riddim Lounge Explosion. It’s an amazing song!
DT: I have to go with "Fire". It is a minimalist rap that sounds like it came out of California right before every song was required to have a "Mustard on the beat hoe." He also name-checks Jazzy Jeff, which just makes me smile.
WC: How refreshing is "Young & Reckless"? On the surface, it’s a puff-your-chest-out rap track—an economical and effective one at that—but his concept of being "reckless" is obtaining knowledge and putting it to use. That sounds a lot cheesier than Jaden, a self-aware kid, delivers it: "Man this kid is absurd/ Where did he get all these words?/ Probably from them stupid books he’s reading and prints on his shirts." I can’t wait until he starts reading William S. Burroughs.
MG: I get why Jaden and Willow--whose vocal contributions shine on the tape too--annoy people. It can be frustrating to hear the patronizing worldviews of kids who have the option to drive their dad’s Benz down the PCH on a whim and spend their days harnessing quartz energies. But I find Jaden’s sincerity here to be contagious; it’s charming that these guys’ idea of an intro to a cypher is, "I got the tunes, we got the candles, we’re sitting in a circle." And as far as self-involved, idealistic teen music goes, I’ll take surreal hip-hop over real hip-hop any day.
Chief Keef: Back From the Dead 2
DT: Another teen exploring the limits of his musical career is Chief Keef, here with his newest tape, Back From the Dead 2. Though Keef was recently dropped from Interscope and people have soured on him considerably this past year, he never stopped rapping. Though Young Chop and 808 Mafia have some tracks present, this is a showcase for Keef's beginnings as a producer. The change in Keef’s music the last couple of years has been easy to document for diehard fans, but for those who still drunkenly sing "Love Sosa", some of that charm is replaced with extremely plodding and rough production--nevertheless, it fits his rugged voice. It took a little bit of getting used to, but this is one of the better projects from Keef since his sudden rise. Am I being a too charitable, guys?
WC: You all might need to help me here, because the only conclusion I came to is Back From the Dead 2 sucks, and that’s as a fan who considers the first Back From the Dead one of the best tapes of this decade. Keef’s command of melody and his ability to make verses as catchy as his choruses have always been his greatest strengths to me, and those traits are nearly nonexistent here. Hearing a recent track like "Valley" gives me hope that Keef will one day return to the sing-songy approach rather than the bland straight-spitting we hear on "Feds". It’s cool Keef is doing a lot of his own beats (the Bop-in-outer-space "Dear" is the standout on BFTD2) but they’re not doing his insular flow any favors.
MG: I have a theory about this, actually: Keef’s increasing abstraction over the past couple years, and seeming refusal to make anything resembling a hit, has to be directly correlated with his obvious anxiety of being in the spotlight. After being put through the media ringer time and time again, he’s making himself harder to understand on purpose, and I think this sound wall he’s built up has led to some interesting music. Take "Dear", which I’d agree is one of the tape’s strongest moments: I mentioned it briefly here, but there’s a lot of overlap between the song’s delicate, new-agey chirps and the stuff Lil B was doing on his 2010 "ambient" record, Rain In England. Ultimately, I think it’s good for everyone involved that Interscope dropped Keef. Generally speaking, he was terrible at the job he was hired for. I’m glad that we get to hear weird stuff like this from him, rather than waiting on some perfunctory drill-by-numbers hit attempt that was never going to happen.
WC: I think there’s probably a lot of truth to Meaghan’s theory, but at the end of the day, I need songs I actually want to listen to, and not sloppy tracks with very little to parse through. Call me when the Keef/Kanye collaborations surface.
MG: That snippet of one of those collaborations that surfaced on Keef’s Instagram a few months back was transcendent, even at 10 seconds. Speaking of Keef’s Instagram, something we should really be talking about is the vast array of truly bizarre, in-house artwork he’s been posting the past few weeks. Included in the gallery is a whimsical painting series of Keef snorkeling and engaging in other leisurely water sports, some kind of insane Fresh-Prince-meets-Basquiat-goes-gonzo portrait, a cartoon of Keef as a mariachi saying "Hey, hey!" and—my favorite—what looks like Keef as as one of the anthropomorphic housewares from Beauty & The Beast, with Beck's "Where It’s At" playing in the background. It appears that Glo Gang headquarters has turned into some sort of fucked up, DIY Donda -- and I am here for that.
Boosie Badazz: Life After Deathrow
WC: Finally freed from the Louisiana State Pen in March after serving 52 months for violating his probation, Lil Boosie--now known as Boosie Badazz—has been on a tear since coming home. There's no noticeable rust to his rapping (see Lil Wayne’s uneven output right after Rikers), but Boosie hasn’t missed a beat; he's one of the most refined street rappers we have right now. His latest tape, Life After Deathrow, sets the table for February’s anticipated album, Touch Down 2 Cause Hell. On songs like "I’m Comin’ Home" and "No Juice", Boosie reminds us why he never needs another artist to supply a hook—he handles those duties with more deft than many of his peers. And it seems his unmatched attention to detail—Boosie’s greatest asset by far—has only sharpened since he was gone. How are you all feeling about Boosie’s return?
MG: He’s always been a great storyteller, but his discography is equally filled with dumb--and great--party music: I mean, this is the guy who invented the term "ratchet", and one of my favorite songs of his is "They Dykin'", which is not exactly about noble pursuits. But, here, Boosie has no time for that nonsense, he has six years worth of thoughts to get off his chest it is powerful. Straight from the intro, "Murder Was the Case", he speaks directly about the ways the justice system tried to screw him over—essentially trying to pin him for first-degree murder using selected song lyrics as evidence, a trend that’s become disturbingly common. I don’t always get super fervent about stuff like authenticity and truth-telling in rap music, but by coincidence, I revisited Life After Deathrow yesterday right after giving Rick Ross’ new album Hood Billionaire a spin. The contrast between the narratives, and how rich and tense Boosie’s felt by comparison, really drove home why this tape of hungry, angry, passionate music feels so vital: that sense that he if he doesn’t get these songs out, they will continue eating away at him.
DT: What struck me is how Boosie has not dropped off one bit. Though it’s good to have Boosie picking up the same working class political mantle he expressed back on a tracks like "Dirty World" from 2008, maybe after listening to so much Keef and Jaden I just wanted the tape production to not feel quite so retro. The style doesn’t sound too out of place or dated, but I wouldn’t have minded getting a vibe this was made in 2014, beyond him mentioning the iPhone 6?
WC: The production fits Boosie well. I moreso wish Boosie didn’t rap, "You know why they scream, ‘Rape’/ Trying to get a n---a cake" on "Here We Go Again". That unfortunate line aside, Life After Deathrow is just a crazy solid Boosie tape, and I’m really encouraged by the two leadsingles from Touch Down.
MG: To close, some Mixdown trivia: who said it, Jaden Smith or Chief Keef? "Life’s a box of chocolate, not Nesquik." I need a guess from both of you.
DT: Who is Jaden Smith?
WC: Trick question. I know Tadoe wisdom when I read it.
MG: The answer... is Chief Keef, in "Cashin". What a world!