Q
Some 2013 albums that are slept on
Anonymous
A

I did this list for SPIN of slept-on first quarter rap releases. You can read it here. Below are eight more. Only a few of them are rap, though.

  • Anika - Anika EP
  • DJ Angelbaby - Get Pumped Vol. 1
  • Fusils A Pompe - Felix x Faure Money
  • Gene the Southern Child - Artillery Splurging
  • Lee Bannon - Caligula Theme Music 2.7.5
  • Mount Moriah - Miracle Temple
  • No Gang Colors - Def America
  • Western Think & Beautiful Lou - Mobbin’ No Sobbin’

Q
What is up with Gucci Mane in 2013? Just don't understand what is up with the dude now?
A

Yeah, he’s just sort of done. Truly joyless, at this point. I don’t understand the fake-ass narrative some rap bloggers tried to push that like, “Woah he’s back again,” when his work from 2011-2012 was pretty much on the same “Dude can rap but clearly doesn’t give a shit anymore” tip but not quite so hazy and at times, hateful?


Q
You've mentioned in the past that you took a screenwriting class and have written some screenplays. Any favorite screenwriters that you consider to be exceptionally good at their craft? I ask because I'm trying my hand at screenwriting and reading screenplays will probably be more helpful than reading Robert McKee or whoever. Also because I'm tired of everyone telling me to read William Goldman.
Anonymous
A

I took two screenwriting classes. One was as an undergraduate for a Communications credit and I got a B minus. The other, I took for only three days when I was in graduate school. Then I dropped out (an experience you can read all about right here). Also, yeah I have written a few screenplays but they are all pretty wretched in retrospect. And it’s been probably five years since I tried. Dunno, just trying to make it clear here that I am hardly the ideal person to ask about this sort of thing! I also can’t say I am a fan of too many screenwriters specifically, though I definitely have a few favorites I would recommend. So, here we go…

A screenwriter who seemed to consistently do good work, whoever was directing his words, is Paul Schrader. His work from The Yakuza to American Gigolo is stunning, I think (I am not including Raging Bull there on purpose because that movie stinks on every level). Like, Schrader’s writing makes a exploitation movie like Rolling Thunder 15-20% smarter than it needs to be. He knows when to be “smart” and when to just like indulge dumb movie pleasures. And there’s Taxi Driver, obviously. One of the best things about Taxi Driver is how Travis is in (almost) every scene and so the whole movie is from his perspective, but you barely even notice that, or like, it just feels organic, you know? That’s a very self-conscious technique that he doesn’t oversell and that’s what makes the movie so moving and like, ambiguous.

Another screenplay I would recommend would be River’s Edge by Neal Jimenez. I’ve never actually read the screenplay, but so much of that movie’s success hinges on the way it is structured and that to me, is screenwriting. Specifically, time is so carefully accounted for and acknowledged in that movie. The movie takes place over a few days and pretty much every hour of those days is incorporated into the script. No shortcuts or cheats or anything like that. The more you watch it, the more you see how every piece of it fits together perfectly. There’s a lot of characters and they’re all intersecting or pairing off but it all holds together in a totally anti-Magnolia super self-conscious way. Again: Doing smart things but doing them without being a big loud dick about it.

Alan Goldberg’s screenplay, Love In Vain is kind of the gold standard in that regard. It has also never been made into a movie, but the screenplay was published like a piece of literature, which is pretty amazing. Goldberg does so much with basic facts of Robert Johnson’s life and mixes a ton of research and like ethno-historical stuff from the era without any of it feeling forced. And there’s a wandering drift to the storytelling that fits the temporal living of a Delta blues dude playing, drinking, and screwing. It’s a biopic in the sense that it is a movie about a real person’s life and is heavily rooted in research and “facts,” but it doesn’t forget the “art” half of the equation, either. He gets it, man. Maybe one of the reasons it’s never been made into a movie is because it doesn’t need to be a movie to work?

Also, I just realized I didn’t discuss or even celebrate dialogue! I didn’t intend to do that, but I think that’s probably telling of what I look for, or think is important in screenwriting. It isn’t snappy clever conversations full of quotables, at all. It’s building a really rigid but invisible frame around the narrative. To me, the trick of a good screenplay is to indulge all that structure-structure-structure stuff without it being too obvious. Like, doing the three-act deal while also accounting for tangents and atmosphere is ideal.





I reviewed Chance the Rapper’s Acid Rap for SPIN. I called this guy a cornball and mad fun of him a whole bunch lately, but this mixtape has really knocked me over. Particularly “Pusha Man.” Click below to read the review: “There are way too many ideas on Chance the Rapper’s Acid Rap mixtape, but that’s a good thing. Woozy, collage-like tracks don’t stay one way for long, and lyrical conceits are held together by impulsive tangents and “woah, dude” thought experiments. On “Everybody’s Something,” a quasi-romantic though mostly real-talk evaluation of how and why we learn to care for one another, the 20-year-old Chicagoan mentions that God doesn’t seem to answer his calls, imagines Jesus’ Twitter account, wonders if he would even bother to follow that Twitter account, and while you’re catching up with that Web 2.0 faith crisis, reminds you of his hometown’s hallowed blues tradition. Then he zings the Rolling Stones for being mad late on co-opting that stuff.
His new mixtape’s best moments gain their power from such good-idea/bad-idea indulgences and batty risk-taking. Nerdy, nostalgia-soaked highlights “Cocoa Butter Kisses” and “Acid Rain” shout out the color of his old Nickelodeon sing-along cassettes (bright orange) and some of his favorite childhood foods (grilled-cheese sandwiches, cut diagonally). Both tracks are backed by gasping, glowing beats that seem to be eating themselves from the inside. The most thrilling moments, though, come when Chance gets a chance to cartoonishly contort his voice, as on the angular “Juice” and the menacing marching-band freakout “Smoke Again”; Kendrick Lamar’s rubbery cadence comes to mind, but Chance injects plenty of quirk and specificity. On the very good kid, m.A.A.d. city-like “Pusha Man,” he naggingly gargles a schoolyard taunt, suggesting that the shit-talking dealer who think he’s transgressive is really just a petulant child, but the track’s second half diagnoses the brain-fried paranoia that comes with hustling, and affords some sympathy to that very same dealer. Moreover, those two halves are split by almost 20 seconds of complete silence, ratcheting up the tension, and also making it clear that Chance is entirely in control. His music will stop dead for nearly half a minute, if he wants it too…”

I reviewed Chance the Rapper’s Acid Rap for SPIN. I called this guy a cornball and mad fun of him a whole bunch lately, but this mixtape has really knocked me over. Particularly “Pusha Man.” Click below to read the review: “There are way too many ideas on Chance the Rapper’s Acid Rap mixtape, but that’s a good thing. Woozy, collage-like tracks don’t stay one way for long, and lyrical conceits are held together by impulsive tangents and “woah, dude” thought experiments. On “Everybody’s Something,” a quasi-romantic though mostly real-talk evaluation of how and why we learn to care for one another, the 20-year-old Chicagoan mentions that God doesn’t seem to answer his calls, imagines Jesus’ Twitter account, wonders if he would even bother to follow that Twitter account, and while you’re catching up with that Web 2.0 faith crisis, reminds you of his hometown’s hallowed blues tradition. Then he zings the Rolling Stones for being mad late on co-opting that stuff.

His new mixtape’s best moments gain their power from such good-idea/bad-idea indulgences and batty risk-taking. Nerdy, nostalgia-soaked highlights “Cocoa Butter Kisses” and “Acid Rain” shout out the color of his old Nickelodeon sing-along cassettes (bright orange) and some of his favorite childhood foods (grilled-cheese sandwiches, cut diagonally). Both tracks are backed by gasping, glowing beats that seem to be eating themselves from the inside. The most thrilling moments, though, come when Chance gets a chance to cartoonishly contort his voice, as on the angular “Juice” and the menacing marching-band freakout “Smoke Again”; Kendrick Lamar’s rubbery cadence comes to mind, but Chance injects plenty of quirk and specificity. On the very good kid, m.A.A.d. city-like “Pusha Man,” he naggingly gargles a schoolyard taunt, suggesting that the shit-talking dealer who think he’s transgressive is really just a petulant child, but the track’s second half diagnoses the brain-fried paranoia that comes with hustling, and affords some sympathy to that very same dealer. Moreover, those two halves are split by almost 20 seconds of complete silence, ratcheting up the tension, and also making it clear that Chance is entirely in control. His music will stop dead for nearly half a minute, if he wants it too…”