Blogarhythms

Summer officially broke in my neck of the hood last week. The sun shone brightly, temperatures soared and I traded hoodies & Timbs in for shorts & Rod Laver’s. As soon as the mercury approached 80-degrees the other day I made it a point to hit up one of the neighborhood storefronts to pick up some warm weather gear. In between nabbing a bootleg Barack Obama tee and a stack of bargain polos I heard the familiar 808 kicks and synths of a certain pair of Chicago-based retro-rappers’ “Black Mags” coming from the store’s BET-tuned television which I turned to find was broadcasting an interview with the duo. I left the store psyched, not only about my purchases but that Indie-Rap kids like Mikey Rocks and Chuck Inglish were getting mainstream exposure like that and that the weather was approaching Golden State-like levels of niceness.

The warmth must have effected my brain. Or maybe it just got me missing the land of my birth? But later that night I found myself discussing the feasibility of a group trip (the topic of a cross country bus journey was even broached) to visit southern California at some point in the very near future with my homegirl from up the block. During the course of that discussion I opened my e-mail inbox and found a new record with a title that incorporates the name of the most famous city in the state of California and a guy who looked like he could be The Cool Kids’s Left Coast cousin on the cover waiting for me. Thinking it must be kismet I immediately clicked the download link and before I knew it True Hollywood Squares by Los Angeles-based emcee Kail was booming from my speakers.

I can’t front, I don’t know the first thing about the simile-slinging, punchline-proprietor (peep “John Booboo” and the hidden track for superb examples of his skills) called Kail. But whatever his actual pedigree as an emcee might be he shares much in common with L.A. undergrounders Murs, Blu, Ras Kass and slept-on mid-’90s crew Mannish, as well as various Project Blowed-ians and otherwise experimental vocalists like Abstract Rude, Busdriver & Subtitle. Operating as it does as a concept album built around a fictional game show that offers contestants a tour of tinsel-town’s underbelly via a collection of eccentric characters True Hollywood Squares also betrays Kail as heir to West Coast/Gangsta Rap pillars Ice-T (who he pays tribute to on “Three In the Morning”) and N.W.A.-members Eazy E & Ice Cube, more lighthearted Los Angelenos like The Pharcyde, and creatively humorous skit pioneers Prince Paul & De La Soul.

Kail’s ability to keep the album conceptually cohesive and portray his characters as fleshed-out personalities also recalls Chicago native and Blogarhtyhms favorite Serengeti. So it could be said that True Hollywood Squares is something of a sunnier, more glamorous version of his Chi-Town Hip-Hopera Dennehy. Speaking of which, glamour, fashion, drugs, and XXX-rated sex play more than a passing role in the album’s storyline and Kail’s foul-mouthed allusions to a life of debauchery — delivered over a diverse array of crunchy beats that mix quirky samples (”Hawaiian Silky” is too ill), slumpy Electro-isms, big bass & video-game electronics — come off like a more satirical take on Naeem Juwan’s work as Spank Rock and on the Bangers & Cash project. Kail’s lyrical prowess, storytelling ability & penchant for confrontational braggadocio might even recall Ghostface Killah for some, especially on the Soul-sample-driven battle of the sexes “Cola (The Rhapsody).”

I haven’t been as impressed by a release from a Hip-Hop artist I wasn’t previously familiar with as I am of Kail’s True Hollywood Squares in a long time. It’s note-perfect Summer jump-off music and reminds me of the shit me and my friends were bumping during the Summer of ‘91 in a real way. Probably because it mashes up the disparate elements — humor, high-concepts, wit and street shit — that my favorite rappers of that era brought to the table into a totally new whole that’s still compatible with the stuff that catches my ear today.

Kail “John Booboo”

- El Keter