Paradoxically, Freddie Gibbs is the future of hip hop because he is its finest throwback. Hip hop is full of backpackers in rose-colored glasses looking for “Golden Age” rappers. Instead, Gibbs’ finds in gangsta rap something resonant to a 28-year-old from Gary, Indiana who has literally fought for all he has. With last week’s release of the Str8 Killa No Filla mixtape and an EP of the same name tomorrow, Gibbs continues to demonstrate why he’s the valedictorian of XXL’s Freshman Class.
The mixtape features unreleased cuts and new heat from the EP. Tracks like “Face Down” and “In My Hood” are unrelenting trap music with Gibbs’ trademark style. On the 90s g-funk of “The Coldest,” B.J. the Chicago Kid plays Nate Dogg to Gibbs’ Dre; on “Best Friend,” Gibbs mans the chorus himself. The tape closes out with “Slangin’ Rocks,” where he goes even deeper into rap history.
The lead single on the EP, “National Anthem,” finds Gibbs in full Tupac mode, even going as far as including a “fuck the world” chorus. He switches between a syrupy flow and a staccato double-time, and as usual, he’s deft at both. To Gibbs, thug life isn’t a choice, it’s a fact of life. Being good in the game – dealing, pimping, killing – is something you do because you have to stay alive. He’s a realist and a pragmatist, and like Tupac before him, he isn’t afraid to get political. A perfect example is the clip for “National Anthem,” where the question is, 250 years later, has anything changed in America?
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Has it really been two years since Ron Browz, Jim Jones and Juelz Santana asked us to “pop champagne?” Time flies when you’re living large, like the rappers on this mix by The Rub’s Cosmo Baker. Baker continues his History of Hip Hop series with a look at 2008, when Weezy was pushing a million units in one week instead of a DOC mop.
2008 was a fun (if frivolous) year for hip hop. Baker expertly mixes the highlights for over 100 minutes of pure bang. No one has swagga like Cosmo, so don’t miss him at U Hall this week for Red Friday.
That would be Freddie Gibbs, on the phone from California, right before doing an interview with TGRIOnline on – of all days – 4/20.
As we’ve written before, true fans of hip-hop need to get familiar with Gibbs, an MC whose talent far exceeds his growing buzz. Gibbs is an unapologetic gangsta rapper, a throwback to an era that seemed to end with the back-to-back deaths of Biggie and 2pac. Repping Gary, Indiana, Gibbs weaves together real life tales about one of America’s toughest cities with a slick cadence that is always on-point, whether with a Pac-like staccato or Bone Thugs-influenced rapid fire.
Gibbs has already had a career-making 2010, being named to XXL’s Freshman Class and burning up SXSW. And his star continues to rise: his next mixtape, Str8 Killa No Filla, is slated for a late May, early June release, and an EP with The Alchemist (The Devil’s Palace) will follow. For an artist dropped by a label – and not looking to make another deal – XXL and SXSW are essential parts of making his own way in the game. “It’s vital. Without that, without blog exposure, I wouldn’t exist,” he confides.
Getting asked to play SXSW was a “blessing,” one that Gibbs didn’t take lightly: he played three shows a day and even did two studio sessions (one with DJ Burn One, and an exclusive for Ruby Hornet). His grind paid off: Entertainment Weekly put him in their “5 bands you should know” – the only rapper in their list. Gibbs enjoyed his first time at the Austin festival: “It felt like Woodstock or some shit… There were shows everywhere. It was trill.”
Now based in California, Gibbs insists it won’t affect his writing. “I’m Gary all day. Born and raised in Gary. Ain’t nothing bout my music will change.” He attributes this to a universal sound that defies regional pigeonholing: “Most people can’t put their finger on it.” While a lot of peers only listened to Midwest rappers, Gibbs became more well-rounded by listening to everything, guys like Rakim and Scarface.
The strength of Gibbs’ mixtapes is that they sound like fully-formed albums. “I do that shit on purpose. I sequence in a manner that tells a story, so you can let that shit ride.”Str8 Killa looks to be another one you can just let ride. “Crushin’ Feelin’s,” produced by Statik Selektah, is a piano and guitar driven slab of Southern-fried g-funk, where Gibbs coolly and confidently dismisses the rest of the game: “Rap ain’t nothing but talking shit, I’m just the best at it.” “Ghetto,” over the beat from Milkbone’s classic “Keep It Real,” Gibbs gets political: “Government funds fill my city up with guns and drugs.”
Rather than the self-described “bullshit” that most rappers put on mixtapes, Gibbs would “rather give a cohesive piece of music that tells a story.” For a reason: “Not enough people know me. I still have to tell them who Gibbs is. Whether it’s about robbing and jacking, or pussy, I incorporate the story in the rhymes, like you could put it to a movie.”
On 4/20, the subject of weed was bound to come up. A few live performances have been scuttled when the MC reached for a blunt on stage. “I’m used to smoking on stage, in hole-in-the-wall clubs. All these grimey-ass clubs in Gary… everybody be in that motherfucker smoking.” Smoking on stage is “taking it back to the crib,” so while some cities will pull him off stage, it doesn’t sound like he’s gonna stop. He even dropped a new track at 4:20 on 4/20 for weedsmokers, “Personal OG,” that he was putting the final touches on when we spoke.
In 2010, Gibbs will keep grinding. “I’m not dead or in jail for a reason,” he says. “As long as I keep my integrity and represent my area, the checks will come.” Apart from the mixtape and the EP, he’s also working on a project with Bun B, Chuck English, and Chip the Rippa. “I’m willing to work with anyone who has hard shit that I respect.” Gibbs will also continue collaborating with fellow XXL Freshmen Pill and Jay Rock. He has some shows in the works for this summer, and will be at the Pitchfork Music Festival in Chicago. But this is just the beginning of a journey for Gibbs. “I’d rather have a twenty year career than a two year career in this shit.”
You could probably write a thesis on the alpha male in hip-hop (if be_gully hasn’t already written said thesis, there should at least be an abstract on the subject here soon). Some combination of money, women, drugs, and guns are lyrical mainstays of rap for a reason. Reveling in such pure id is escapism of the highest degree. When it comes to lyrics that are exciting and engaging, transgression is better than introspection.
Which brings us to the class of 2009. The much-debated freshman class of hip-hop as editorialized by XXL (alphabetically: Ace Hood, Asher Roth, B.o.B., Blu, Charles Hamilton, Cory Gunz, Curren$y, Kid Cudi, Mickey Factz, and Wale), for the most part, are big into beta. So, for fans of hip-hop that demonstrates both street authenticity (Gucci Mane) and rapping talent (not Gucci Mane), who is out there fighting the good fight?
Enter: Freddie Gibbs. Born and raised in Gary, Indiana, the 27-year-old is out to prove that gangsta isn’t dead. After being dropped by Interscope Records, Gibbs produced and released two mixtapes within months of each other this year: The Miseducation of Freddie Gibbs and midwestgangstaboxframecadillacmuzik (a third, The Label’s Trying to Kill Me, is a compilation tape that cuts-and-pastes from both). Right off the bat, the title references touch on a desire to be a part of the pantheon of rap classics rather than on the level a mere mortal.
Gary, Indiana is fucking hard. The crack age coupled with the decline of American industry have left Gary harder hit than either East St. Louis or Baltimore. There is no silver lining. And this is the crucible in which Gibbs has been forged: “Sixty percent unemployment / Why you think we sellin’ dope?” The facts of his environment are inescapable, physically for many and mentally for all. Gibbs’ lyrics are unapologetically about this life, not to glorify or to educate, they just exist, familiar stories that are so outrageous they seem fictional. The themes are classic alpha male rap: dealing drugs and smoking weed (“Boxframe Cadillac”), scamming chicks (“Bussdown”) and killing dudes (“Murda on My Mind”).
Stylistically, Gibbs’ hardened voice and smooth flow take many forms: at times, it’s the Southern syrup of UGK, at others the rat-a-tat of Midwesterners like Bone Thugs-n-Harmony. The beats range from pure g-funk (“Talkin’ Bout You”) to trap-hop (“Summa Dis”), paying reverence to a by-gone era with tasteful samples (Biggie’s “Beef” shows up on “Standing Still”). Contrast this with the constant, braying namedropping of the Game: which is a better (and more alpha) tribute to the golden age of gangsta?
For a song that encapsulates Freddie Gibbs the artist, take this alpha male manifesto from the chorus of “Womb to the Tomb:” “From the cradle to the grave / the womb to the tomb / Imma get it win or lose / I’m just out here making moves / from the womb to the tomb / the cradle to the grave / till I jack up out this bitch / I’m out this bitch / get paid.” Sure beats “Man, I love college.”
