Juicy J feat. The Weeknd - One Of Those Nights
One of Those Nights ft. The Weeknd - Juicy J
As my great friend Booker T. Washington said, “In all records that are our ownwe can be as separate as the fingers, yet one as the hand in all tracks that we grace together.” … Or something.
There are some artist duos that aren’t paired like Flatbush Zombies, but just body every track they’re on like A$AP and ScHoolboy. Juicy J and The Weeknd are finding that. It’s not on the level of Brand New Guy yet, but it has potential.
This shit though… It’s the perfect blend of their sounds, creating what I call Risque Club Ignorance. It’s like a stripper seducing you to Pop That. This is what it sounds like to sniff coke off the ass of a thick, chocolate southern woman. The Weeknd croons lyrics that would fit right in on a Juicy J verse, with his signature “Yeah hoe!!” adlib in the background the whole time. Juicy J spits a pretty good verse too, considering, you know, he’s not actually the best rapper. He has some great verses (My Type of Party Remix?) but this one… No? -Awkward silence-
The beat is, interestingly enough, also a mix of bother of their sounds. The pianos and violins that create the sensual aspect of the song take a backseat to Juicy J’s more liberal use of snare drums and flat out bass. It’s like it was tailored to be both artists in this little smoothie being cooked up.
I’m a big fan of this song, I’m not even gonna front, and it’s not just because of The Weeknd either. It’s like taking MDMA in an Atlanta strip club with a Russian super model.
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Power Trip feat. Miguel
Young Simba has grown up. He’s bout to kill Scar with this next album. And normally, since Sideline Story put everyone to sleep, I laughed at the mentions of Cole. Truthfully, I dropped him down from conversations about KRIT and Kendrick to conversations about Big Sean. And that’s a far fall. But I can’t deny good music when I hear it. And this shit has been stuck in my head since it dropped. Now I’m listening to Cruel Summer wishing I could’ve gotten a Cole feature instead of so much CyHi. I mean I’m not hating, I’m just saying going from Friday Night Lights to Sideline Story is like going from DirectTV to dorm room cable.
But enough about how boring his debut album was. Recently, Cole has been murdering shit. Ever since his disappearance, he’s come back in the game on a rampage. J. Vorhees has killed features on everything from French’s Diamonds to Fabolous’ Louis Vuitton. The Cure was good, Miss America was great, Truly Yours was like getting hit by Captain America’s shield during World War II. It doesn’t kill you, but it’ll leave you with a nice concussion and some bruises that look like the Hulk was fucking that pale ass chick from Zero Dark Thirty and decided to be “gentle”.
Jermaine decided to pull out the big guns for the production of this. The beat is slow and smooth, with flutes given more bang by liberal use of dubstep-esque bass wobbles. It’s like Shaq is the bass, and Hoopz is the rest of the beat, and they’re doing snoo-snoo. Only everyone can hear. This is actually kinda awkward now…
Lyrically it’s not Cole’s most furious, spitfire rhymes, and that’s perfectly fine. The timing of this second single couldn’t have been better. This is the perfect Valentines Day banger to throw on while you’re just lounging around with what negro twitter likes to call “the bae” (whatever that means, right?). All in all, the strong point is definitely the hook, but Miguel’s singing definitely adds to the smooth romance of this track.
If you’re a
lazybroke nigga like I am, this is the perfect Superficial Marketing Play-on-human-nature Day gift for that Cole addict you’ve been trying to holler at. Go ahead, you can’t afford roses anyways.
In the words of the ever eloquent John the Baptist of G.O.O.D. Music, “This shit sound like GAWD don’t it?”
Ibn Inglor. Ibn muhfuckin Inglor. This Young Titan went on an epic quest to the farthest reaches of nowhere to bless us with this mixtape. I’m not talking about that five minute car ride around the corner that your favourite radio artists try and pass of as a quest. I’m talking on food, through deserts and tundras and mountains and marshlands with nothing more than a backpack full of bread, some water, and hella blunts. I’m talking Lord of the Rings type long, where even the movie has to be more than three hours just to fit everything. Yunk Kratos went all the way to Mount Olympus, killed Zeus, and pulled this mixtape out the chest of his corpse. And now he has blessed us with it.
Gawd Speed is the most fitting name for this tape. Every track sounds like he’s spitting the flames of Hades over a beautiful, haunting angelic choir. If heaven ever burned down in slow motion, this would be the soundtrack. The beats are all slow and smooth, and somehow incorporate samples of an angelic choir in each one. You’re not gonna find songs to bang in the club, nor are there any ignorant beats from Young Chop to bang out in your local Coon Tank. There are no soft Spanish guitars to serenade that one chick that you’ve been trying to seduce that’s been playing hard to get even though you just know she want it. And that’s probably for the best, cause she’s just gonna cheat on you with her boss anyway.
Lyrically, the mixtape hits like an uppercut from Kazuya, complete with the spinning and the lightning. Ibn’s calm, smooth flow definitely adds to the ambiance of being a mixtape that’s somehow otherworldly. Most of his rhymes are conscious, often speaking out against the many pitfalls of our generation. And in his eyes, there are many. Many.
All in all, this is a great mixtape. The beats are heavenly, the lyrics are divine (Pause) and all 51 minutes of it sound like that one time you spent days fighting Sephiroth. It may be one of those things that you only listen to when you’re in the mood for it, which is when you’re ripping the wings off of harpies or summoning huge ass dragons to fight for you.
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