Tyga and King Trell. Photo: HypeBeast Let’s get something straight: Underground and/or conscious hip hop is not where it’s at. Sure it might show some kind of intellectual depth to listen to a beat-driven genre for its lyrics, but at the end of the day the thing that’ll keep you coming back is the music. Commercial rap is the jam. I’ve been listening to it since the day I turned 12 with the glee of a drunk girl at her birthday party: ‘OH MY GOD IT’S MY SONG!!! IT’S MY SONGGGG!!!!!’ So when I got the chance to sit in onClick to Continue!
Photo: Elizabeth Herring 1. Papa Frenchie read my blog post about his gym last week, and since then, he has been personal training me like a pro boxer. Obviously the workouts are brilliant, but the best bit is his endless quotability. Take Saturday, for example: I was doing a set of bench presses when he came and stood over me. “Isaac!” he said in his Puerto Rican accent. “You know, I am psycheeec. I know why you come een here.” With the bar halfway above my chest and shaking, I grunted at him to keep going. “You want to beClick to Continue!
It’s been a while since I was hugely into any New Zealand artist – the last would have been Scribe and P Money in the early 2000s; and The Coshercot Honeys who I followed around the country in 2007-8. But I am officially obsessed with David Dallas: His album The Rose Tint launched on iTunes yesterday and I strongly suggest you make the purchase. About a month ago I got to join David on the set of his video shoot for Ain’t Coming Down. We shot all over Bed Stuy surrounded by onlookers – children, old ladies, thugs in low-riders,Click to Continue!