Oh, Hip-Hop...You Bore Me Soooo....

This Tame Impala “Innerspeaker” album is blasting through these God-awful expensive BOSE earphones, but it sounds so incredible. I can say that spending a hundred dollars on these earphones is a bit much, but when you want to feel and embrace yourself in the music that you are listening to (like myself), it is all worth the investment. Why spend thirty dollars on some Apple earbuds that will eventually break within three months so you have to buy another pair? It just makes sense in the end to buy the higher quality earphones that will last a longer time.

I recently have come into a funk with this music that I have been working with as of late. All of my clients are hip-hop artists, and I am growing bored with this genre of music. If all you can talk about is how cool you are, and how your Louis Vuitton “Damier print got you lookin’ like a chessboard,” then I really do not feel the need to listen to your shit. The hip-hop genre is like high school; everyone wants to be cool. It’s sad to me to go to these local shows with up and coming hip-hop artists and see how most of these rappers are going broke to “keep up with the Joneses.” All of this “I’m too cool...please look at me” bullshit reminds me of myself at the age of sixteen and seventeen. Now, the really sad thing is when I am twenty-five years old (the same age as most of the artists I see perpetuating this “cool kid” persona) and I can say, “These rap niggas remind me of myself when I was 17.”

I am now looking to sign a band (or two or more). Rock has been the one true genre (since I was 16) that has drawn out the most excitement out of me musically. The lyrics are generally raw human emotions that everyone can relate to (vulnerability, euphoria, etc). If you are in a band or if you know of any dope bands looking for some branding, public relations, booking, etc., please do send them my way. You seen what I’ve done for Dom Kennedy; I point guard careers.

When I was 17, it was cool to hear rappers (like Jay-Z) talk about lavish things (such as G4 jets and Cristal bottles) that I would “aspire” to having one day. But now, at the ripe, old age of twenty-five years old (I kid...I kid...) I can no longer relate to these material things. Hell, I could easily go buy a bottle of Cristal and be cool in the club on Sunset Blvd in Hollywood like the rest of the sheepie, but I’d rather be home and write. Some of us grow up extremely quicker than others; most of us never grow up at all. Who really wants to be the old guy in the club; honestly?!