He slinked the outskirts of SoCal rap, he snuck, he crept, now he’s here, Ye-mentor No I.D. Vince Staples’ LP debut Summertime ‘06 cracks like a shot fired across the bow of rap complacency. Kendrick Lamar dropped a stone-cold classic, Main Attrakionz & Friendzone smoked the sublime, Rae Sremmurd were probably born or something, and now Boogie and Vince Staples are here to push the paradigm, the next level of rap content married to a refinement of the musical form. We’re halfway through 2015 and let’s already call this a banner year for the genre. Magma like manna, though, fishscale rap putting the rest of the music world on notice. Dre’s former self, Snoop Dogg’s never self, and the crystallized moment of a track like the Pack’s “Vans” are imps that years ago cracked something somewhere deep down below California-Odd Future was like the hiss of a fart escaping the opening fissure, now here comes the eruption. There is a veritable hotbed of burbling-up blood going on in the West Coast water right now ghosts of Dr. And, after years on loop, “this” has begun to evolve beyond the radio-driven aesthetic trends of crunk, then Kanye, then trap, then Drake, next probably Kanye again.
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