Before you rush to the comments section, and post a snide little “I thought this was Quartersnacks, not World Star Hip Hop” comment, you should know that this very site would not be here today if it was not for this record’s existence. And do not take this for some sort bad attempt at irony, as the music content on this site, in everything from the flamboyant-est of Lady Gaga songs, right down to the flashiest of Southern gold-teeth-wearers, has been utilized and appreciated with the utmost sincerity for the artist. Liking music in a backhanded, laugh-at-not-with sort of way is one of the most annoying traits you can ever discover in another person while discussing pop culture, and if you’re over eighteen, and still doing that shit, you need to cut it out. I’d imagine that anyone making songs about lasagna-colored Zondas is a lot more self aware than you’d give him credit for. Or at least a lot more than Nas pretends to be when he’s acting smart and reciting facts about the history of Africa that he had his assistant remember for him off the Africa Wikipedia page.
And it didn’t make sense upon its release, five years ago on this date, as to why this guy who looks like a Ninja Turtle and makes a habit of stretching adverbs to absurd lengths was capable of producing such inspiring sonic landscapes. But it works. Michael Phelps gets it. And if you don’t, well, you’re probably the one that’s missing something, or it’s not for you. That’s fine too.
If I had that “I don’t do concerts, I give motivational speeches” quote properly worded, I’d post it, but I can’t find it. Footage this week. Let’s get it.