Hip hop is dead
Praise the Lord
Pass the ammunition!
After 2007's "Emergency Powers", I was hooked on the "Super Chron Flight Brothers". Tremendously underground
and incredibly satisfying, "Super Chron" immediately takes you away into a playful, political, apocalyptic, and often times downright hilarious world of rhymes. Although they claim "Indonesia" is not a follow up to emergency powers and more of a side project to explore the production realms of dubstep and electronica, the duo continues their short yet incredibly impressive repertoire of LP's.
Right off the bat with their opening track Xanax, they show their humbling ability to make you laugh with shit like:
my generation, impatient, grams is high.
we can talk inflation, investigation,
take it to court like brown v board of education.
the new negro got his swagger right by
wathcin hooey hit that pipe
turn fitty backwards, hit the mic
it got submitted backwards, another successful flight
another drunken bisexual dyke claimin' she get p's that get right
cannadale bikes, hoodies and backpacks
a hood full of cracks"¦ you can fall through"¦
we bridge the gap from shakazulu to joseph mobutu
smokin' out in the jungle with the hutus! (who yoouuuu??)
This isn't to say that super chron is all about gettin high and causin a ruckus (even though they claim to be). these guys seem to keep a constant eye on the most critical humanitarian issues of the day as well. they exercise a little role play in "African robotics," where they pretend to be african arms smugglers.
take my advice gentlemen and forget about class struggle,
the riff raff mass huddled and the soldiers you need to protect you from the spies,
same spies you got spyin on your shoulders too busy gauging spies, fryin eyes.
write a number on the paper, close your folder and let it slide,
i doubt i'll be surprised, when these figures are agreeable to me.
these rpgs should be a sight for sore eyes.
get these crates unloaded my friend, we gotta fly!
sleet, snow or rain.
that fine craftsman ship named fully auto, you don't gotta aim!
sugar cane in the teeth and the future on my brain.
brain on cocaine, polished and steam powered, bullet trained.
we promised you change"¦.. and it's here!
as a long time resident of the mid-atlantic, i take special pride in their anthem "The big east," which depicts the follys and fortunes of life in nyc and on the rest of the east coast.
This shit is fast and fun. you gotta be quick to catch the jokes and social commentary embedded in their nonchalant, chill vibe, but if the desired destination is hip hop nirvana, then the journey is definitely worth the flight.
when questioned, the receptionist at the panorama guest house in yogyakarta remembered the two "orang hitem" [black people] from america, quite easily. although they only stayed for a couple weeks, the two men had drawn attention from the moment they arrived with a variety of electronics they said were for recording music. this claim appears to be borne out by the complaints lodged by other guests regarding the thumping bass at all hours of the day and a pungent aroma of high-grade marijuana, both emanating from their lodgings. although both of the americans were extremely polite when approached, they kept to themselves and were rarely seen in the common areas unless on a "liquor run". the staff member could not recall the exact circumstances of the two brothers departure, but revealed that local plainclothes police arrived soon after, questioned her and searched the room. the management has since instituted an unwritten policy barring the renting of rooms to negroes - indonesia press sheet
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