Lucy Camp – The Heart Dies

 

Lucy Camp, formerly known as Luzid, released her first video off her new EP Whispers last week. “The Heart Dies” hits home because it addresses a journey of self-discovery, sustainability, and female strength in her signature raw and vulnerable approach.

I first caught her dark side of sass on The Cypher Effect with Bleezie, Nonames, Krucial, HideandSeekZoo, and Uptown Swuite. Camp’s unique voice, staccato style, and no-bull lyricism made me instantly like her. Now, three years later, her growth as an artist has created no less than spitfire eloquence.

Los – All the Way Gone

You don’t have to be a fan of K-Pop (Korean Pop) to recognize the Korean hip-hop game blowing up in past years. From old school Drunken Tiger to televised rap competition Show Me The Money, South Korea has come a long way towards embracing hip-hop and the rest of the world is just starting to get a better picture.

Here’s a video from Cycadelic Records newcomer Los aka Los Moonwalker “All the way gone”. Hailing from Southern California, Los is a true Angeleno bringing together his LA roots and Korean heritage to create banging bilingual tracks in California, Korea, and beyond.

In journalistic integrity, I want to share that Los is my blood brother and, whether or not we are related, I only post what I consider quality music.

Check out his collab below, aptly called “Bang”, with South Korean rapper G2, K-town hip-hop stronghold Dumbfounded, and soul songstress Bago.

As a 1st generation Korean-American, I’m proud of my community creating engaging and evocative hip-hop that addresses different facets of the music industry, immigrant life, and representation.

I encourage you all to share your thoughts on this and other topics. Thanks for reading!

Brother Ali – Own Light (What Hearts Are For)

Brother Ali’s latest album All The Beauty In This Whole Life is God’s latest gift to America. Every time he releases a new project, I swear it can’t get any better – the lyricism, flow, and heavy topics. Yet again I’m in love, sold and delivered on his relevance.

If you’re in Toronto or Detroit, you can catch him on the leg-end of his tour tonight 6/7 and tomorrow 6/8 along with the Sa-Roc aka the Goddess MC, and supporting artists Last Word and Sol-Messiah.  I was blessed to catch their show at the Santa Ana Observatory on May 17th. Sa-Roc came out clearing the space by burning sage before her hard-hitting set.  Brother Ali regaled us with new and old shit while asking us to enjoy the moment with him, not with our phones. It was a much-needed escape into conscious, reflective hip-hop that unites rather than divides.

 

New Fav YouTube: Whodunit

If you enjoy dope trip-hop beats to interesting visuals, you may love Whodunit. This independent producer joins his hip-hop mash-ups with visual stories in cartoon form and beyond.

Original video: Disney’s Silly Symphony – “Flowers and Trees”, 1932

 

 

 

I highly suggest checking out the original video Next Floor by Kısa Film. It’s a graphic and powerful 9-minute film that packs its own piece.

 

Now we know. Whenever you’re in the need for a double dose, turn to Whodunit and his tripped-out videos.

My Stankonia

“Welcome to Stankonia, the place from which all funky things come.

Would you like to come?”

 

About two years ago, my love for hip hop slammed into an exploration of identity, in which I saw as many hip hop shows I could afford while analyzing my hunger for lust-turn-love.

My goal was to figure out where I stood. Growing up on hip-hop, for me, meant assuming the role of the male. Not promiscuous, but pimp. Not girly, but cold. I made connections that relied on stereotypes and fueled my seemingly isolated sense of self. Since high school, I’ve led a powerful struggle to claim my sexuality and at 28, I recognize how badly I’ve treated myself and others in that quest, how blinded I became to love and respect, and how duality can create impossible expectations.

This blog has gone astray from how it first originated, and it’s time to fess up. This is not simply a social critique of feminism in hip hop or a regurgitating news cycle of bangers or beef. This is my experience living hip hop and how it impacted my identity not just as a woman but a sexual being. I invite you in my journey to share and broaden my perspective.

I love hip hop. It speaks from the soul, runs in blood, and provokes, challenges, celebrates. As it propels rhymes, I’m crushed by some lines. Because I also love language and its power to create realities. The excuse that there’s a difference between women and bitches doesn’t cut it. The restrictions on free thought still exist, for example, in the form of trends and what it means to be cool. The music does a lot to cut up the masses and elevate conversations, yet I still find myself healing and recovering from the agreements I made in the ’90s and 2000s, with unfortunate remnants lingering today. Even The Roots and Lauryn Hill couldn’t stop that impact.

I’m a feminist hip hop head, and I respond in my own battle lines or reflections. Refusing to be silent is my answer, and I haven’t quite figured out how to do it best. But why wait?

I am 28 years old, and I haven’t fucked in 8 months. Dramatic much? At face-value, this isn’t too surprising: I’m kind of shy, afraid of rejection, the usual complaints of a 21st-century robot.

The real problem feels like reclaiming my body after countless bad decisions, trusting people who don’t speak their truth, and absorbing the woman-hating tendencies of those who grab us without consent.

So you can find me at a show dancing my ass off, but my ability to flaunt with nonchalance has been tainted. I question whether that makes me ashamed of expressing myself fully. I question whether that makes me less human or frozen in time. The more I dig, it’s clear there’s more at play than merely hip hop or sexuality, but I can’t deny how these two sources of identity have framed who I am today.

Call it PTSD or jaded, I have developed a guard against expressing my own sexuality and that is unacceptable. I know who I am, and I want and deserve consensual, respectful sex. By the way, fam, that’s the only type of sex anyone deserves.

Hold up! This is not an invitation to fuck. It’s a heads-up that shit’s going to get personal and a shout-out to those who may experience similar truths.

My ambitious goal to hit up every hip hop show I could afford simmered down after I quit my job last year, and I’ve begun to understand how I can become whole again. Yet my recovery is never complete unless I write it down.

Welcome to my Stankonia.