Artist: Elizabeth Joan Kelly
Title: if I told him
Keywords: experimental hip-hop rap ambient classical collage electronic instrumental New Orleans
I’m not a rap fan, a hip hop head, or a random word smith admirer. It’s always a huge difficult happening with angst sweat dangling on my private forehead when a rapping rapper send in his or her epic hip hop album for review. The sheer panic, the terrified lack of words, the oh no how to deal with this? Sure, We have an open request policy for all kind of music and it’s certainly a good exercise for the music loving mind to hear music that isn’t necessarily your cup of tea, your boat that rows or your socks that rocks…
…but than again, sometimes things do kick in and will make a huge impact on the genre and it’s doomed state of my personal appreciation! Like for example the discovery of the epic empowering raps by MC Mustaj, who DID rock my socks.. or Chip The black boy who I seemed to love so much that I even sat down with him for an exclusive weird interview. …and so this list of hip hop rapping artists that I DID enjoy seems to grow and grow, almost to the point that I won’t be able to say that I’m not into it. I’m in it, all in the middle accumulating the good things that pleasure the taste buds like sugar on the tongue. I mean.. Ice JJ Fish and Bangs rapping about taking us to the movies.. they are also delicious goodies that make non loving hip hop listeners into hip hop fans!
To help this phenomenon explode , nobody less than Elizabeth Joan Kelly had also entered the scene! Her epic rap hip hop work not just rocked my socks, become the boat that rows or became that cup of tea that I enjoyed; it was a case of all three things combined! Her single ‘if I told him’ had simply everything to convince me that rap is super cool, rocking my booty on a groove with the beats, blowing my mind away with its vinyl scratches, shutting down my biased ears with super cool judgmental coolness of Elizabeth Joan Kelly’s rap that would suit well to the days old question ‘the chicken or the egg? – who came first?’
It got everything to dream of the act of putting on some shady shades, a cap on the head and some fake bling around the neck, ready to give in to the stigma of what the visual aspect of this music seems to be about as implied by the upper ground hip hop heroes. Rolling out the Monopoly money and throwing it in the air as if it wasn’t worth a thing, driving around in expensive cars while half naked male hookers feed me spliffs as they dance supportively in the back seat. There in my imagination Elizabeth Joan Kelly sits behind the wheel, golden teeth blinking in the sun as she is rapping out her words like the toughest hero who knows what she is doing – and I sit next to her as a support act, waving my hands in awe: how cool is that? Hip hop suddenly loses its crankiness and just becomes a act of joy! No more panic attacks with rapping rappers like Elizabeth Joan Kelly around, just awesomeness! Oh and good fun too!