East Hollywood, Iron Galaxy

The topography of the rap landscape is one I don’t have the energy, or desire, to stay on top of any longer. That said I still try to keep my ears piqued for things, often late, but aware. I’ve forgone much of the regional youthful movements - leave those to the ones who care and are more hip. I’m enjoying my sonic journeys these days. And yet I can’t ever get away from rap entirely. If you dig into the archives of this blog or know me you know that hiphop is at the root going back to the first CD I ever got.

Backwoodz Studioz has been bubbling and it feels as though they may finally be reaching broader appeal, following in the footsteps of Stones Throw, Rhymesayers and Def Jux. The latter of which they are most sonically aligned, presenting a modern take on the dark and amorphous New York underground sound so pristinely captured by El and company at the turn of the century. 

This lineage is supported by Backwoodz founder billy woods connection with the Jukies, specifically Vordul Mega of Cannibal Ox. Woods is also the primary reason for Backwoodz elevation, likely overtaking Westside Gunn as the primary New York rapper to capture the internet’s adoration. Whether solo or as one half of Armand Hammer with Elucid he has been on a tear lately, producing at a clip and quality inhuman. The articles giving him his flowers abound.

Akai Solo is young and equally productive, I first got hip to him via a collaborative project with Pink Siifu back in 2019, a point in time when Siifu was cause for me to pay attention. Black Sand wasn’t memorable to me and I promptly forgot about him and Siifu (for a time, with the release of Gumbo I revisited Negro and Ensley along with the B. Cool Aid album this year and I must say neither is a rap talent to be ignored). At some point last year I started to hear Akai’s name popping up and talk of a project on Backwoodz materialized: Spirit Roaming.

The title alone had me interested, coupled with my respect for the pedigree of his label and I was pretty excited. It dropped on November 22nd and fell flat for me, I just couldn’t finish it. Yet I kept coming back to it. And still couldn’t finish it. But I didn’t want to give up on it. It received positive consideration and I just wrote it off as a casualty of where my ears were. Fortunately I finally took the time to sit down and digest it.

Akai has a flow that takes a bit of getting used to. It’s not as limber as most, at times feeling as though it bulldozes over a beat. He clearly knows this about himself and his ear for beats is spot on for how he chooses to deliver his words. He extols abstract tales intermingled with the otherworldly and the real. Dragons and ghouls sit next to bodega’s, gun violence and the around the way girl. It’s dense and begging for repeat listens.

These returns are aided by the score. At 15 tracks and 13 producers it’s a master class of coherence. I suspect at least some of this is due to Willie Green mixing and mastering the whole project. We get a cornucopia of sonic ideas here, rooted in the classic boom bap NYC tradition but pushed to a modern realm. Every beat feels intricate yet comes across to the ear as a singular statement. Samples are buried and blended. Drums come and go. And through it all Akai takes them over in his own unique form.

Spirit Roaming waves a flag for imagination and the curious. Akai feels as though he is well rooted in duel planes, asking, questioning but also not giving any fucks and aware of the dangers that lurk. At almost a year old it’s only enticing me more to continue playing, as I dig deeper and deeper into the world of Backwoodz this seems to be their MO. They are not here for the disposable, when they put their stamp on something it means something, not watered down and the rewards come with excavation and attention. 

Fatboi Sharif is another one that I just wasn’t able to click with. I’d listen, think ‘that’s cool,’ and move back to whatever out there Jazz social music release of the moment had my ears. When I heard Sharif had teamed up with Steel Tipped Dove I was excited and intrigued. I almost preordered the wax, song unheard, but I practiced restraint. And then I heard “Brandon Lee” and was like ‘oh, damn, glad I didn’t order that.’

Thankfully in the context of the full project, Decay, that tune along with the rest are exactly what I’m looking for from rap today. Sharif is another one that has a unique voice and flow. His is about as elastic as can be though. This project isn’t for the light hearted. It’s vivid and visceral. His writing lends itself to scenery and setting. On each and every track you are placed into a realm that is fully of Sharif’s making. Each song could be a movie unto itself. Tragedies without happy endings. As one who views our burning world with pessimism I’m not averse to the honesty present in these songs.

This heaviness is captured expertly via Steel Tipped Dove’s amazing soundscapes. They are noisy and abrasive, they are slow and moody, trudging along with enough space to house Sharif’s unique flows and voice transformations. Just as the lyrics won’t entice the depressed prone, the beats will not likely draw in anyone looking for a slice of peace. Yet they bang. Where these sounds were dug up, how they were flipped, what inspired them? I have no answers and lots of curiosity.

Decay is like a bad trip. It's scary and uncomfortable in the moment, yet as time passes and you find your footing, you begin to digest what’s around you. As I sit with this record I can’t do anything but allow Dove & Sharif to whisk me away into their world of depravity and chaos. Not because I want to escape but because it’s so well displayed with brutal honesty. 

As my ears have ventured to new landscapes and I’ve moved away from the overwhelming inundation of new music, I’ve shifted to enjoying sitting with albums, actively listening and consuming records in full, repeatedly. Even things I’ve reviewed in the past didn’t get a ton of replay. But as I’ve grown in the last few years the act of really taking in a record has been more and more enjoyable. Especially when it comes to the new world of social music I’m fascinated by these days. Turns out when I apply this practice to rap albums, I actually find myself inspired by the sounds and rhymes in a way I haven’t felt since my youth when it was all brand new to me. This practice proved fruitful with these two albums. If I'd taken my initial feelings as gospel I would have been missing out on some seriously deep and worthy music.