Author: Alex Winnick

Quick, witty, substantive and modest, Noname Gypsy is perhaps Save Money’s most promising, best-kept secret. Fatimah Warner (who goes by the stage name Noname) came out of the same music scene as Chance, Vic Mensa and Milo & Otis, performing at the same YouMedia workshops. However, and there’s no other way to exactly put this, even amongst such a talented group of friends, Noname is unique. As a female emcee, she is already a rarity in Hip Hop, but her uniqueness stems from more than just that. Noname’s music is teeming with pointed social commentary and satire. What’s more, she uses one of the most extensive vocabularies I’ve ever heard from a rapper, and this diction expresses her sentiment. Pioneering her own blend between singing and rapping, Noname will surely be known in the future for her sharp, borderline nasally tone that delivers such rapid and concise wordplay.

The best way to show her talent is by examining one of her tracks, of which there is only a handful. The song “Sunday Morning” starts off with the pair of lines: “All my raps whisper unintelligence/ Unrelenting irrelevance chiseled in the sediment.” Her ability to use so much assonance and alliteration in such a condensed space is impressive and unmatched by many professional rappers. Noname’s music has meaning, it has purpose and it has drive, and communicates through aesthetically pleasing rhymes. The verse continues with her alacrity for explicit social commentary: “What’s that? A massacre/ A mass appeal to apple stores and raffle scores/ I wonder who gon’ win the lottery/ If Google maps can see my house I wonder who is watchin’ me/ Satellite hypocrisy, like right up the block from me.” In just a few lines, Noname calls out large corporations, the government and the technology generation, and does so with rhythm and flair. She then moves into her most loaded critique: “Right up the doctor fees/ Another brown boy down/ Another mother crying cause another brown boy found/ And all you wanna do is smoke weed and write songs.” Noname, like Chance, exhibits tremendous maturity and skill by using her art form to not only illustrate the problems around her, but also explain how her peers react to them. She finishes this already stellar verse with a final statement: “Bang Bang sound like violins/ Poverty was made to door frame all the violence/ Knock knock and guess who’s not there- The Police/ And guess who don’t care- The people.”

Despite her mastery, Noname is still an amateur. She is yet to come out with a mixtape, and has been soliciting donations on her twitter account so she can have the funds to finish her first project. Her feature verse on Chance The Rapper’s song “Lost” has significantly helped her raise an initial fan base, but she is still very much out of the spotlight. It’s been far too long since we’ve had a prominent, noteworthy female emcee though, and my guess is that Noname will fill that void. If you’re interested in independent, conscience, meaningful music with a simple and pleasant sound, Noname Gypsy is your answer.

Noname’s “Paradise”

Vic Mensa is no Chance The Rapper, despite what many of their lyrics may tell us. The pair grew up in the same circle of friends and created the Chicago MC group “SaveMoney” together, but Vic (born Victor Mensah) is not at the same lyrical or aesthetic levels as Chance. Like his counterpart, he cultivated his artistic talent at Chicago’s YouMedia program that offers open mic’s and other instruction in the arts. There, and through the emerging young Hip Hop scene, Vic helped start the briefly famous seven-member group Kids These Days that bleneded rock, hip hop, jazz and soul into their own distinctive sound. The group incorporated other incredibly talented artists like Nico Segal, a trumpet player who recently toured with Frank Ocean, and Macie Stewart who has one of the loveliest female voices around today. After the band produced its first major work “Traphouse Rock” they disbanded to allow the blossoming of individual careers. Shortly before the official end of the band, Vic had already begun working on his biggest project to date, Innanetape.

The mixtape, which has been downloaded over 40,000 times from the site datpiff, is a top-heavy collection of tracks with decent samples, moderately good features and creative melodies. It lacks consistency, lyrical depth and polish. To put it in perspective, Chance’s Acid Rap came out over six months ago and I still jam to any track that appears on my music shuffle. Innanetape dropped only one month ago and I have already had my fill. The truly outstanding songs: “Orange Soda,” “Lovely Day,” “Tweakin’” and “Holy Holy” only sustained my attention for a few weeks before they became stale; I don’t feel the burning desire to hear every musical note and distinguish every hidden word like I do when listening to Chance. Vic Mensa is a gifted MC, but he has yet to find an aspect of his music that will separate him from the very competitive pool of rising artists.

He shows a tremendous amount of promise in the first handful of tracks. When my friend started playing the song “Orange Soda” in the car before the entire Innanetape project came out, I was convinced he was playing an old N.E.R.D. song I had never heard. It mimics the exact same soulful, drum-heavy, call and response and melodically complex sound that Pharrell’s group perfected a few years ago. On an aesthetic level, this is where Vic reaches his maximum potential, and where he can really soar in the future. The same is true for “Lovely Day” and “Tweakin’,” tracks that offer solid lyricism, quick rapping and a unique sound. However, only one song really stands out as a tremendous, album-worthy track. The only song of the mixtape’s second half I enjoy, “Holy Holy” featuring Ab-Soul and BJ The Chicago Kid is stylistic, intricately introspective and astutely socially conscience. BJ The Chicago Kid supplies wonderful harmonies over a soft drum/shaker beat, and Vic finds his true gift for flowing between rap and song. This track is powerful, and is the only one on Innanetape that I would listen to lying on my bed, eyes closed, attempting to really connect with the piece of art. The other tracks are too insubstantial to listen to more than a dozen times without getting bored.

To be clear, Innanetape is in no way a bad mixtape, but Vic Mensa clearly has a lot of work to do before he can climb the ranks as quickly as his friend Chance. The partnership between the two is undoubtedly a wonderful advantage for the MC; the two collaborate on almost every individual project they have, and continually make references to their sibling-like competitiveness, oftentimes alluding to their equal levels of talent. Respectfully, I utterly disagree with this evaluation (Chance is just too many strides ahead of Vic) but respect the support and companionship the two display. Neither has signed to a major label yet, and they seem perfectly content to remain SaveMoney artists for the immediate future– a decision that I for one consider this a very fortunate thing indeed.

Orange Soda

Last week I began my endeavor to report on the young Chicago Hip Hop scene that has every music blogger salivating. I apologize for thinking that I could undertake this effort with only one post about Chance The Rapper (the group’s forerunner) and so I reviewed his latest production Acid Rap thinking that would be enough. But, I’d be remiss if I didn’t also shed light onto Chance’s first ever collection of tracks: 10 Day, which he birthed during a ten day suspension from high school. As these fourteen tracks are more creative, musical and substantive than most contemporary mainstream professional rappers’ albums, I’m going to repeat that Chance made it on a suspension from High School. As in he was barely the legal age to vote. As in barely an adult. As in the same age when my biggest accomplishment to date was getting runner-up in a state Mock Trial competition.

10 Day is more musical than Acid Rap— more influenced by jazz trumpets and keyboard melodies– and channels “A Tribe Called Quest” vibe more so than the College Dropout-esque sound of Chance’s more recent releases. Granted, there are obvious signs that this is an artists’ debut work; there are plenty of awkward lyrics, ill-timed flows and amateur features. That happens the first time anyone makes music. However, we must set 10 Day apart from most other mixtapes for a number of reasons, beginning with its production. I am so enchanted by Chance’s music, and his cohort of Save Money members, because they are all such talented musicians. It is so overwhelmingly clear that his production artists (including Chuck Inglish, Cam and the Blended Babies) are all trained and educated musicians. Kids These Days– the first combination of young Chi-town musical geniuses that led to much of the solo work today– matched live jazz and soul instrumentation with Vic Mensa and Chance’s raps, and created a sound dependent on musical composition. Not to say that mainstream Hip Hop producers are not musically educated, but it makes a clear difference that the sound Chance, Vic and co. create is indicative of a dedication to and reverence for a certain style of music. Thus, almost every single one of Chance’s songs is unbelievably aesthetically pleasing. There are no abrasive beats, harsh voice-over bombs or overly artificial instrumentals. In 10 Day, Chance also includes samples from Dead Prez and Notorious BIG, (intimidating acts to borrow from) but does so effortlessly and simply. The effect is a mixtape that establishes Chance’s expertise in production and pretty raps.

Amazingly, he does not disappoint lyrically either. To create such complex and imaginative lyrics at such a young age is no small feat, and further proves that this is an artist with some training. While he treats a few of these tracks as a (sometimes jokingly) middle finger to the school that suspended him, he also makes a number of perceptive and astute comments about his school’s disciplinary measures and his neighborhood. Furthermore, he interweaves a steady stream of social commentary, primarily about issues facing him and his peers, throughout the tracks. To do this, he displays his impressive ability to alternate between singing and rapping; for instance, on the track “Missing You” (which samples Dead Prez’s famous “Hip Hop”) Chance begins with a continuous verse rapped in a low, soft and aggressive voice I’ve only heard on this track. He goes in and only stops for quick breaths, with lines like “But these young gunners ain’t nothing but young stunners” and ends the verse with a captivating four lines,

“Brown boys are dying and none of ‘em were for business

And all of ‘em love they mommas and all of they mommas miss ‘em

And this shit is stupid this shit is fucking senseless

The news shouldn’t support it this shit is getting expensive.”

Chance wrote this song to cope with the loss of his friend who was killed in Chicago. What a high level of thinking for a teenager coping with the enormous problems and challenges of youth violence; he is able to look introspectively at the situation in a rational and mature way, and express his thoughts through artwork. In my opinion, that is beyond impressive. To top it all off, as soon as he pulls out of this intense rap, he transitions straight into singing his own bridge. Not too many artists (let alone 18 year olds) can do that.

To be sure, 10 Day is no Acid Rap. It is not on the same level of cohesion, featuring artists and lyrical mastery. It is however, a powerful and impactful collection of songs that is essential in understanding Chance’s background and musical origins. It is as enjoyable to listen to, and is an inspiring indication of where Chance will go in the future.

Chance\’s Hey Ma

Greetings, arts ink world, it’s a real pleasure to be back here. My goal of blogging about music I currently enjoy is going to be made blissfully easy by a strong resurgence of excellently produced, intricately thought out and creative music in the past six months. Specifically, I will focus the next few blog posts on the burgeoning rise of the Chicago Hip Hop scene that, astonishingly, is spearheaded by a few 20-something year olds and exemplifies some of the most positive aspects of Hip Hop culture. I left off last academic year with a post about Milo & Otis, a soulful, hip-hop inspired duo, who mark the beginning of this new movement. To be clear, Chicago is no stranger to rising Hip Hop artists: Kanye, Common, Lupe, No I.D., Twista and Rhymefest all hail from the windy city. This recent surge marks a deviation from their impressive legacy because these artists form a collective– they are young, talented, and run in similar social circles. Milo & Otis released their stunning EP in 2011 (if this is unfamiliar to you google milo and otis the joy), and featured a collaboration with an emcee called Chance The Rapper. When Chance wrote and premiered on the track “Lift Up,” he was only eighteen years old.

I begin my exploration of the Chicago Hip Hop scene with Chance The Rapper because, although he is certainly not the pioneer of the group, he is presently at the forefront, arguably across the entire country, of Hip Hop. Chance began working with artists like Milo & Otis in high school, where he mostly learned and played soul and jazz music. He belonged to the same group of friends and musicians Kids These Days, a seven-member band (including rapper Vic Mensa, more on him to come) that blended rock, jazz and Hip Hop into their self-titled “Traphouse Rock” style. As Kids These Days was gaining popularity, Chance was turning his musical interests towards Hip Hop, influenced (as everyone is quick to mention) by Kanye West’s first album College Dropout. After being suspended from high school for ten days, Chance wrote and produced his first cohesive work: a mixtape called 10 Days. The mixtape put him on the radar of bigger names like Childish Gambino and Joey Bada$$, but it is Chance’s most recent effort that has every music blog and magazine gushing over the twenty year-old artist.

On April 30, 2013, Chance The Rapper dropped his second mixtape, Acid Rap; 13-tracks strong, it is unequivocally the most aesthetically pleasing, imaginative, expressive, relevant and original collection of tracks Hip Hop has seen in the past several months. (It is so phenomenal that, instead of overwhelming you with all my praise, I am going to touch on a few songs at the end of my next several blog posts, so that I extend my review throughout the weeks.) Hip Hop fanatics and skeptics alike should give Acid Rap a listen; Chance is a unique rapper in that he can be playful and silly– using his sharp and skillful wordplay to make jokes and spin out of control– and also solemnly reflective, sometimes on the very same track. His lyrics are not only substantive, they are also witty, include a wide variety of idioms, figurative language and impressive diction, and just sound good. I am so infatuated with Chance’s music because, among other reasons, it is such pretty rap; he translates his message without difficulty, but he does it in a way that channels his background in jazz and soul, setting him apart from the heavy-hitting Trap music rappers, known for their abrasive beats and overwhelming bases. Chance is markedly different, and the whole music scene is responding to him. He is so young to be so talented, and it is clear we can expect tremendous things in his future. I sometimes have to remind myself that he has yet to even produce a studio album, much less sign to a big record label. He’s still with the Save Money Militia, and he’s still gonna watch his bros.

If you haven’t gotten your hands on Acid Rap yet, go over to chanceraps.com to download it for free and peruse all things Chance.

As Finals begin to roll around, the necessity for pleasant studying music grows exponentially. Fortunately, the funky soul duo “Milo & Otis” from Chicago supplies the perfect 11-track tape for note-taking and flashcard-making. Technically, they released their debut piece The Joy almost a year ago; however, following their stop in Ann Arbor last weekend during their Spring 2013 tour, I am just hopping on their soul-train now. Milo & Otis (adorably named after the Japanese movie about the best friendship of a cat and dog) consist of Owen Hill and Jamila Woods. Hill produces, composes and engineers the beats, while Woods writes the lyrics and soothes everyone with her magical voice. That’s the recipe: Otis lays down the track and Milo builds a mountain of entertainment on it.

When listening to the entire album for the first few times, the tracks will inevitably blend together into a somewhat indistinguishable buzz of mellow, electronic soul music. Which is not an established genre of music, making the pair all the more unique. Otis uses a wide variety of horns, electronic amplification, keyboard and drums to assemble the various beats, however they all have a similar tone and pitch. The only major tempo fluctuations occur in the songs, “Black Sheep” which speeds up the usual pace, and “1108 Troy Davis” which slows things down a bit. The album also adds variety with its featuring artists, including most notably Chance The Rapper, (another Chicago native gaining fame by the day) Nico Segal and Enrico X. The guest artists are critical to the album’s success because they provide a needed and wonderful compliment to Woods’ voice. Not that she needs any substitution, (I could listen to her for days straight with no break) but as the pair obviously has some Hip Hop influence, more than one MC is needed on an album.

As you spend more time listening, certain tracks stand out. The album begins with “Can’t Stop Now,” the second-most defining song of the album. Woods starts with the quote, “Your life’s work begins when your great joy meets the world’s great hunger” a line that sets the impression and purpose of the entire work. The Joy, unsurprisingly, encourages the pursuit of passion, and the value of chasing dreams. She preaches, “Who says everybody gotta know what they meant to do in this world/All I know is what I got in my head, I guess I might as well start there.” This mentality is continued across the next ten songs. My favorite track, “Ars Poetica,” finishes with Woods passionately repeating, “Give me something to believe in.” The song “1108 Troy Davis” also stands out, as it is easily the most moving and personal moment. Woods reminisces on the day Troy Davis was killed, singing “I dreamed he was a bird, I told him: they cage our kind, baby so fly away.” The album finishes with the song titled “The Joy” which, as songs go, is practically perfect. It seems impossible not to relate to the lyrics, “Look at your life, look at the joy you give. Look at the world, look at what’s left to live.” It is that optimism, that personal reflection that sets this band apart. In the midst of the current pop music frenzy, Milo and Otis manage to produce an entirely genuine, artistic creation that boasts impeccable, soulful vocals, a groovy, unique sound and a delightful attitude. They simply are a joy.

Listen to “The Joy“

Today I had the distinct pleasure of sitting in Hill Auditorium with a thousand or so other people for a 2pm book reading, fittingly titled “An Evening with David Sedaris.” This quirky error aptly represents the type of borderline uncomfortable humor that filled the immense halls of Hill for two hours. Although Sedaris was technically reading excerpts from his new and previous publications, it felt as though he were merely delivering an intellectual stand up comedy routine. His writing, strictly creative non-fiction, is littered with his crass and dry humor, and he can hardly get through more than a few sentences without allowing the audience time to laugh. Joke topics ranged from his wacky sisters to oral sex to conservative Republicans, and each one maintained his seemingly innocent charm.

His personality is the reason Sedaris can get away with all of the jokes. His Woody Allen type mannerisms, coupled with his bubbling and genuine kindness gives off a very personable and genial air. Due to a slow seating process, the event started twenty minutes late; but instead of having the audience members twiddle their thumbs and assume the delay was due to Sedaris’ apathy, he came out on stage before being introduced for an impromptu question and answer segment to entertain us. This set the tone for his uncanny ability to give off the impression of being everyone’s best friend, even to those of us on the Balcony, about a hundred feet above him. Which of course only increased the audience’s tendency to laugh openly at his jokes, even the ones that also made us cringe, and there were plenty of those. Twice Sedaris made a joke about having cancer, one focused primarily on performing oral sex on Willie Nelson and another attempted to analyze the components of uterus lining. To reiterate, all of this material came from his published work.

Sedaris’ portfolio is not all inappropriate, however. The bulk of his material stems from stories about his family: his parents and three sisters, as well as his partner Hugh, are mentioned frequently. The art of his craft is so brilliant because he is able to blend candid stories about these people with his tasteless humor in the most hilarious and polished way possible. At some points I had trouble noticing the extent to which how insensitive his jokes were because of how elegantly he writes them. Furthermore his delivery does not change according to the humor; he told a joke about having an intellectual conversation with a college student and one about his penis’ inability to cease urinating in the same breath. I walked out of the auditorium wrangling with this very conundrum, simultaneously chuckling at his last crack and shaking my head at just how tactless it really was. Still, once you learn to overlook the distasteful details, he is an absolute delight to see in person.

David Sedaris