The Universal Truth about reviews (and a bunch of other irrelevant shit that was squashed together)

When I got a My Space invite from Truth Universal, I was very surprised. “Isn’t he the guy that I put out that album that I negatively reviewed for Exclaim! magazine?” Surely, I thought, he didn’t seek me out from the review; he was probably just another artist adding other My Space artists, as we all do, to accumulate a healthy bank of “friends.”

So I accepted the friend request and thought nothing of it. Boy was I wrong. Turns out, Truth Universal wanted access to my public comment wall in order to verbally shank me for my negative review. Had this been a private matter, I would respond privately, but since he’s so comfortable with his venting in the public domain, I will share it with you.

That review was disrespectful and elitist. How could you belittle someone striving to elevate the art/culture and challenge the status quo. “Cryogenically frozen?” Man FUCK YOU! And to find this rudimentary BULLSHIT you call rapping up here is hilarious. You think this is better than my work? I mean really? Who would buy this shit you’re doing? Have you ever rocked a crowd? I mean REALLY rocked a crowd. Show and prove. Search me out and check my work. Shit, look in my blog here. I ROCK CROWDS! I AM an eMCee! Approach the people I have worked with that crap you have recorded, and ask them about collaborating with your wack ass and see what the response is. haha. Go back to your bedroom and make some more wack ass shit on your Mac book. hahahaha

My problem with people like you is that you can’t objectively critique a body of work. And if you took the time to even research the song you called “pedantic and rhythm-less” (you think you have rhythm dude? no, really?) you would see that the Angola 3 case is a very complex one, and to be able to succinctly break it down is task in itself. In addition to that, it rhymes and is step with a beat.

Check yourself before make asshole assessments.

-TU

Now first of all, I want to explain something about reviews. (Sorry if it sounds elementary.) What is an art review and what does it matter? An art review is just the opinion of one person, who is hopefully educated in the genre pertinent to the body of work, and it matters very little unless you are familiar with that critic’s other reviews and you share tastes. What are reviews, and what is their significance? Reviews are a collection of opinions from a group of educated art-lovers (in my case, rap listeners) that make up an blown up picture of a specific body of work, and their significance together is very large: they dictate the direction of the discourse.

So as my review stands alone, not only is it just one drop in a bucket, but a very insignificant drop because of what it is precipitating upon: good reviews. (This is why I include every review in full text on my site, on the same page, including a very tough review from UGSmag.com, for the surfer to explore the collective interpretation. But alas, as much as TU wants you to believe this is about my music, it’s not and never was.)

TU’s album, Self Determination, has been lucky enough to garner a very positive review with OkayPlayer and got a feature in The Source magazine’s Independence Day column. But amongst the praise, there was my negative reaction to it. If more people reviewed it negatively, then my review would have more credence, but until then, it’s a black sheep. So congratulations to TU on his mostly well received album, but his poor handling of my interpretation is embarrassing.

I admit that my review was caustic, but only because what I heard gave me a sour taste. How, you may wonder, could a positive, educational artist sour me, given my opinion of most rap that is materialistic, mysogonistic, homophobic, and insubstantial? Well, for one, TU’s music lacks humility. Something we both have in common as rappers is the didactic implications of our aliases (Assault Of Knowledge/Truth Universal), but TU’s self-appointed place as the educator of the masses with no modesty makes for a very dry experience. Even though he covered very human topics–about egregious killings, corrupt governments, and African American culture–he, as a person, has no modesty. He sounds like someone who thinks he or she knows the absolute truth and is going to tell it to you–not how that person sees it–but how it is, absolutely. Hence, I said that his music comes off as “self-righteous.”

As for me being disrespectful, I admit that I could have conveyed my views with less sarcasm and more quoting from his lyrics. So let me do that: (“Angola 3″) “In ‘72 apparently prejudicial/ To stop from organizing the prison officials/ Concocted murder charges/ Making them accuse killers/ Of a prison guard by the name of Brett Miller“.

My exact words from the review were, “["Angola 3" is] so pedantic and rhythm-less that it sounds like he’s got a Wikipedia window open next to his word processor.”

To me, when you just list facts and ensure the last word of each sentence rhymes, you are not rapping well, you are juggling an encyclopedia and a rhyming-dictionary. It sounds as if a university professor started rapping from a text book. The entire song is like that. It may serve to educate, sure, but there’s no emotion in it–especially sad considering how emotional charged the Angola 3 case is. Yes, it is complex, but to put the words together with intricate cadence and in a passionate delivery is part of your job as a poet: to translate the complexity of life (or whatever) in a way invoking an emotional reaction. Angola 3 and almost every track off Self-Determination are not repeatable songs because they’re short, incomplete documentaries, and his delivery is boring–so forgive me for tuning out. I may find the Angola 3 case fascinating after listening to his track, but I’m unlikely to listen to it over and over again–not just because his dull talking is painful–but because it wouldn’t serve me other than the one time I heard it. If I want more information, I’ll grab a book. Maybe that’s all TU wants is to give you a crash course so you can go elsewhere for information, but if that’s the case, he’s wasting dope beats. (To understand more of what I’m saying, listen to Nas’s “Autobiography of Rakim” off Street’s Disciple.)

As for me being elitist, well, that’s just one of those words that gets tossed around improperly.

e·lit·ism
1. practice of or belief in rule by an elite
2. consciousness of or pride in belonging to a select or favored group

So what is my favored group here? People who believe rap isn’t simply prose with a rhyme conveniently placed at the end? This is something hip-hop has grown out of in the last 15 years. I love Gangstarr, but for me the experience is nicely nostalgic of when I first heard them. Truth is, Guru is a poor lyricist. Back then, rap was still a baby and people were more interested and struck by the concept of its very being than anything else. But now, in its middle age, rap is more complicated and the standards have risen. Compare the best Rakim verse with the best Brother Ali verse, and I’m sorry, but Brother wins. Flash back 20 years, what Rakim was doing, “Fish, which is favorite dish”, is amazingly fresh and praised just for being so brand new.

TU then wants to criticize my review on the basis of my own music. Well, he’s wasting his time because I don’t rate music according to mine, and if I did, most of what I hear would be classic. I am a new rapper, and a transient rapper, and when I rap I am not thinking of how this will “elevate the art/culture and challenge the status quo”. I’m more humble than that, even though I too can be pretty self-righteous, I always try to come down to the fact that I am just a guy who loves rap, loves to rap and wants to express myself through the form I cherish. Whether it works for others is completely up to them. That’s me, that’s my style, and that’s what I’m about.

So, do I know what it’s like to rock a crowd, like he really rocks crowds? No, I don’t. I live in Edmonton, Alberta, and I grew up in a rural town of 3000 people for 80% of my life. I don’t travel for rap cause rap is just my hobby–so I don’t know what it’s like to rock crowds. Also, as everyone knows, live music does not always superimpose perfectly onto a recording. Mac Lethal, for instance, puts on an amazing live performance, but his last album, 11:11, was weak in comparison.

TU also challenges me to approach the people he’s worked with (admittedly very gifted people, of whom I was sure to credit in my review for holding his hand), and see how I get laughed at. Well, I would never approach stic.man for a collaboration because I’m not ready and I wouldn’t dare embarrass myself. The most famous person I’ve suggested a collabo with, on boards or mic, is Cadence Weapon, who I know personally, and it still took a lot of guts. Does this make his music better than mine? Probably, if that’s how you determine quality. But my review was not a double critique about how his music matches up to mine. It was about his album, that’s it.

(And for the record, much of my new album was indeed recorded in my bedroom. But it was not on a mac book, it was on a Sony VAIO. But still, the sound quality is not much different from the shaky quality on Self-Determination, so I fail to see the significance.)

What else? His problem with me (amongst many others) is that I can’t objectively critique a body of work. Well, your opinion of ‘objective’ is actually subjective and therefore holds no merit. Moving on.

Do I think I have rhythm? Sometimes, yes, sometimes, no. If you’ve heard my music, you will know when I do and when I don’t. Does TU? Sometimes, but on the songs I called “rhythm-less”, I thought he didn’t.

At this point, the word count is now 1735 words. The maximum given to me by the magazine I reviewed TU’s album for? 200 words. (There is so much more I want to say about the importance of balance in music, but instead I’ll direct you to this good HipHopDx.com article.) This is why I use analogies like , “It’s as if an Afro-centric rapper was cryogenically frozen in 1990 and unfrozen 18 years later in a modern day studio.” Because without 1694 words to explain the feel of album, I try to convey it in creative, clear ways. Was it disrespectful? Sure. But respect for artists simply for the fact that they are artists is overrated. Everyone is an artist, from the kid who smears poo on the wall to Salvador Dali. Do I have to appreciate the shit on my walls? No. Even if the shit conveys a moral, educational message about the happenings of the world, it’s still shit on my walls.

The truth about Truth Universal’s album is that I didn’t even want to review it. I don’t review independent artists that I don’t like unless I’m told to review it. So when I heard it, didn’t like it, and put it away for a month, I was told by the editors that this album needs to be reviewed. That’s right, needs to be, which is at least indicative of the fact that TU is making noise on the scene, and big ups to him for that. So I did review it, I didn’t like it, and I added my disliking to the discourse of mostly praise. And if TU can’t handle that, then he doesn’t deserve to be mentioned in the press at all.

So hustle homie. Sling your mix tapes, rock your crowds, do your tours and sell your albums — but don’t expect a word from the media if you can’t handle an honest, dissenting view.

Tags: poor sportsmanship, reviews, universal truth