I don’t take pride in anything I didn’t do on purpose. I’m Italian, but feel no allegiance whatsoever with my fellow big nosed brothers and sisters. In fact there are few things that I despise more than those who take tons of stock in something they had nothing to do with; the sight of sports fans cheering on their home team, or of dumbasses getting shitwrecked for Saint Patrick’s Day like it’s an Irish birthright, makes me ill. That’s why I hate Trees. And Marty, whose Latino identity relies on him watching grown men in short shorts kick balls around a field.
With that said, I was not unhappy to see older white guys – most of whom are quite rotund in the gut like yours truly – dominate hip-hop, at least quality-wise, in 2011. Sure – most Americans still do and will always think that major Caucasian popularity in rap music is limited to the success of Eminem, Vanilla Ice, and the 2 Live Jews (and those assholes from Saturday Night Live who, by the way, aren’t funny). But for those of us who are in the know – a small but exclusive group of which I am the self-proclaimed and undisputed leader and shot-caller – the game at this point has as much pale talent as it does any other kind.
I’m not just talking about in board rooms and behind the boards – as was formerly the case. And this isn’t a sequel to the frat rap fellatio that I delivered in the Boston Phoenix a few weeks ago (though that’s coming soon – I promise). I’m talking about some of the hardest MCs anywhere, who brought the hardest albums this year, which resonated with hardcore fans like me – fans who know what the fuck is up. From Apathy’s epic ‘Honky Kong,‘ to ‘Cats & Dogs’ by Evidence, to the homey Slaine finally officially dropping his ‘World With No Skies’ opus, I’d say 2011 was the best year for white guys since whenever it was that Non-Phixion, the High and Mighty, and El-P stepped on the scene.
Of course much of what I’m saying here relates to Action Bronson. If not for him, the dudes mentioned above, Click Animosity (also a largely Caucasian operation, save for Trust and Hoppie X-Ray), and a handful of others, I wouldn’t have listened to much new hip-hop at all this past year. Bronson was a Nas-send for a lot of heads, his overall flow and content level leagues tighter than any single line that’s ever been uttered by any XXL freshman – plus a voice and cadence needed to get the job done and then some. But for me, his arrival has been extra special, as my similar Queens-bred background enlightens me to both his inside reference humor and general gusto. He’s to me what someone like Sam Adams is for Trees.
So that’s about it – I was impressed with the white man this year. Props are also due for Ill Bill, who made a number of significant cameos, new local beast squad Grey Sky Appeal, and of course Statik Selektah, who produced something like every track for all of the aforementioned MCs. Next year I’ll be listening to a lot more music – even bad music, like the kind that everybody else writes about on this web site – and will no doubt find a whole lot more color in my selections. But in 2011 – the year that Spotify gave me unlimited anywhere access to old favorites like Cappadonna’s ‘The Yin and the Yang’ – I simply didn’t have enough time to operate far outside of my wheelhouse. And as most of you know, I’m a chubby white guy who’s simply too old to dance the Dougie.