krakaur
Today sees the release of NYC producer’s krakaur’s self-titled album via the rising new imprint Youngbloods & we give you a first listen with the track “neighbor” that features rhymes courtesy of ENxVE. Krakaur’s production style is a combination of the ambient, restrained & sparse where it sounds as if an entire biosphere is created and you are a pedestrian strolling through an electric modern metropolis. The production style itself bubbles & gurgles like discovering some futuristic lair of a world that was previously familiar that now feels like a foreign land or an environment straight off the terrain found on a distant planet’s surface.
krakaur’s “neighbor” ft. ENxVE starts with dotted percussive beats that ignite the track like sidewalk hopscotch progressions. The vibe feels natural and sets the stage for ENxVE’s big entrance that occurs 46 seconds into the track where he appears like a friendly & surreal character from another galaxy. ENxVE’s mic skills drops every lyrical bar swiftly on the beat with the greatest of ease, catching your attention with the reiterated hook that begins like….”star spangled justice by way of rap music, truest crucible for cruel & unusual…”
Krakaur shared some reflections with us on what the experience of making & putting together this production cycle was like for him:
krakaur:
“neighbor”’s development was unique in contrast to the other songs on this record. It all started with a draft of a more melodic house track which I kept altering until the entire session was about 10 minutes long. The styles fluctuated throughout—there were probably five different mini-tracks inside that session. I sent the whole thing over to my brother Charles (ENxVE), and he chose the tail end of the collection to write his verse—that’s how most of the track formed. the bass heavy outro was a product of a week-long recording session I did over spring break last March. I holed myself up in a room for 10 hours-a-day in an attempt to finish the album. The beat was titled “55” and I overlaid Charles’ verse over it just to mess around, but it ended up fitting perfectly.
ENxVE provided some generous thoughts as well about his contributions of verse & mind on the track “neighbor”:
ENxVE:
Inspired by the writing of Russell Atkins, “neighbor” opens with a line lifted straight from the poets, ‘While Waiting In Line At The Bank’.
“Teaspoonfuls weigh tons” can be treated as the thesis of the piece. As a cousin to the more commonly known, “straw that broke the camel’s back” colloquialism, I wanted to use this hyperbolic signifier as a contemporary take on the idea that, every action has repercussion, no matter how small or seemingly insignificant. In a very matter of fact way, Atkins writes:
“It’s a natural enough probability: That which gives money takes it away
—
Dark importances have risen…”
Ruminating upon Atkins’ poem and his implications of a dark vision of capitalism and human value, I drew comparisons to the tenuous relationship between the ‘rapper’ archetype and the oftentimes faceless characterization of ‘the music industry’. What little does it take to become ensnared in the trappings of a rapper’s folly? What does this seemingly omnipotent industry presence gain from commodifying a premeditated and aesthetically constructed lifestyle?
I explored these themes with a medley of pop culture and mythological/literary references ( “Soup Nazis in armoires (Seinfeld)”, “Family man Danny Tanner hit the xannies…(Full House)”, “Crimson Cyttorak Crystal…(X-Men)”, “Do not cross the Bifröst…(Norse mythology)”, “Life is but a meme deferred…(Langston Hughes) etc. ) to add levity to an otherwise nihilistic perspective on what the relationship between the rapper identity and the rap music industry can mean.
The hook is meant to pull the listener back into the thesis, forgoing the supernatural metaphors for ones that are more literal renditions of wordplay.
“Star-Spangled justice by way of rap music”: The American-Capitalistic perspective on simultaneously glorifying and vilifying the rapper identity (and by default, the black body)
“Truest crucible for cruel and unusual stamps on the newsprint”: Addressing the grossly disproportioned level of public shaming and legal punishment the rapper archetype endures for their openly acknowledged criminal behavior (paradox! build them up, knowing they come from nothing; make money from their revelry in an entirely marketable but toxic mindset; give no warning to the dangers their words and actions will present down the road; they get implicated in the crimes they were instructed to celebrate in their music; arrested (duh); render them unable to fulfill contractual obligations, and have their funding, record deal and clout stripped away for the next one up on the chopping block. The low risk, get rich quick schema.)
“Shit is crucial, noose tied on two loops and the branch ain’t olive”: The publicity and entertainment value of these frequently occurring instances made as a parallel to the idea of the public lynching as a form of American recreation. “Let’s watch them flail and flounder for dear life…”/“I wonder who it’s gonna be next time…” It is not peaceful. Watching these stories unfold is not for the sake of revealing a moral high ground, but showing the fallibility and oxymoronic nature of the system itself.
“Man take style cause manmade value make em knock the volume”: Even if these pitfalls were to become the locus of discussion over matters of the rapper archetype and the industry that covets it, many will, without question, default to the values ascribed to the archetype because those values signify success and escape from socio-economic hardship. From racism. From fear. The disenfranchised black body will seek the status offered, assimilate to the standard and sing its praises, then be swallowed by it.
The idea behind these lyrics, and the moody, ear worm melody that krakaur provided through his production, necessitated that my vocals be rasped, intimate and vaporous. Much like the phantom menace being explicated, I wanted my voice to dance on the edge of grave comprehension and utter elusiveness.
