Sunday, December 03, 2006

Pain in the annual: Trae's Restless makes me uncomfortable in a way I might just like.

As a northwoods boy through and through, I know approximately jack shit on the true weirdness of Texas. Sure, I can dig on the Thirteenth Floor Elivators because they rule and appreciate the Butthole Surfers because I fear them, and yes I acknowledge that summer a year ago was Houston's time to shine in the rap game, but that's only because media sources told me so. I don't actually understand the source of all of this, why Texas is so damn looming a mindframe. I won't mess with it, be sure of that. But Trae has added a whole new dimension to my understanding of the state.

As I told y'all, summer 2k5 was a big 'un for H-Town rap. Mike Jones, Paul Wall, blah blah. I think Chamillionaire's big thing came out this year, and I loathe that Ridin' Diry song to the extent that I twinge a bit when I scroll past the awesome UGK album of the same name on my playlist in association. I think I remember reading something on DJ Screw just after he passed, but was too young to appreciate the glories of sizzurp and what have you. But in the small hunk of icy water that I paddle in, Restless seemed the go to Houston album of this year.

Really I only saw it mentioned in a few places. Cocaine Blunts, So Many Shrimp, and then Status Ain't Hood jumped on the bandwagon mumbling some shit about "Portishead if they listened to rap" or something. I didn't really see that part on most of the tracks unless I squinted, but maybe the sliver of extra buzz in that capsule is what pushed me over the edge into buying a damn copy (though by all means Noz's approval should be all it takes to get me on the horn screamin' at some distributer to mail me their last copy of some soon to be OOP collection of bangers).

I don't know much about Trae. His posse is called Assholes By Nature, and his sorta congested-nose baritone flow makes me pucker a bit when he says "Assholes", but that's 'cause I'm a twat. The disc is a pretty big downer, with a lot of chopped vocal samples and a lot of Trae basically wanting to be left alone, which I can dig at this juncture. I used to listen to it on my way home from work towards the end of summer when my iPod still worked, and probably wound up looking salty to people just by correlation. It was great in the steamy days of August, which I assumed were the closest we got to the weather of Houston.

As October rolls around, I tend to put aside a lot of my rap for icier electronics, morbid-er (fuck you it's a word) dark jams, or freeform improvisational shit more in tune with getting my mind set for the local hibernation season. Last week I pulled Restless outta my stack when I was waiting for a phone call not to come, antsy (see the connect?) and was shocked by how well a lot of this jawn traslated to our frozen tundra clime at the moment. There were little tinkles I hadn't noticed in some songs, and the sadness really popped in a way that I could munch on as I hated on the outside atmosphere. Much as I feel when I dabble with the black metal in the bleakest of times, except with some tinge of warmth that could only be granted by everlovin' cough syrup.

In conclusion, I recommend this album if you know that everything is pretty much bullshit when you get right down to it and that whatever you might as well just stay in and re-read your collection of Sandman comix, you fuckin' goth.

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