A cathartic album for our time
Run The Jewels is the most dynamic rap duo to emerge this century. The group’s formidable reputation is for relentless beats, aggressive rhymes, and bass so loud it registers on the Richter scale. In the wake of America’s recent troubles, the mismatched pair released RTJ4 early and, on first listen, you could be forgiven for thinking it was written about this specific moment. But it wasn’t.
The system has long been broken and Run The Jewels has been raging against that machine the whole time.
That’s mainly down to Killer Mike. Although his offsider is the fantastic force and production wizard behind their music, El-P as a rapper tends to favour juvenile jokes and shock tactics, leaving the more serious messages to his musical brother in harm.
Killer Mike came up though the ranks in Atlanta with connections to OutKast and Goodie Mob, but his activism runs deeper. A staunch supporter of Bernie Sanders, he’s never shied away from public debate, and has placed himself on the political podium many times in recent years.
During the latest riots, Mike went viral with an impassioned, impromptu nine-minute speech, tears rolling down his face as he urged for unity and justice. On RTJ4, Mike calls out the ‘‘hypnotised and Twitter-ised’’, taking shots at corporate corruption and social apathy as he rails against systemic injustice, poverty and racism.
He references the death of Eric Garner at the hands of the police six years ago on Walking in the Snow: ‘‘You so numb you watch cops choke out a man like me, ’til my voice goes from a shriek to whisper ‘I CAN’T BREATHE’.’’
After the murder of George Floyd, the all too familiar words send a shiver down your spine.
RTJ4 delivers in spades for fans of the Jewels. It’s cathartic, angry, and tastes like medicine.
Closer to home, Hamilton rapper Raiza Biza is also no stranger to getting political in verse, but his latest project is a more personal affair.
Grand Opening, Grand Closing chronicles a romantic relationship from its innocent inception through to its embittered end.
From the early elation of infatuation on November, through to deception, disillusionment and doubt on Composure, Biza bares his bruised heart. Particularly surprising is Save Me, where he sings for freedom from himself over a simple acoustic guitar. This emotional low is one of the record’s high points.
Raiza Biza makes it look easy on this cohesive concept album.
The nine songs on Grand Opening fly by fast and fit together perfectly.
Fluid and seemingly effortless.