Did you see the thing about Apple buying Beats by Dre? Dr. Dre became "hiphop's first billionaire," and a million status updates congratulated him. No, congratulations to us—we literally celebrate the rich getting richer. Hail yeeeuh. Shower the rich with rose petals, hail, hail. Sure, Dre also got his $3 million lawsuit against Death Row thrown out recently, but lawsuits get blocked all the time—ask "Sista Dee" Barnes, the woman whom Dre beat like a fuckin' smoker for daring to do an interview with Ice Cube in which he dissed N.W.A. Never forget. I grew up watching Pump It Up in LA in the '80s—just imagine if a black male pop superstar beat the shit out of a beloved black female figure... and the public forgot... uhh...bout it. Right.

In other news... ah, yes: Mickey Avalon is at the Crocodile on Thursday, May 15, bringing his wasted Hollywood street-kid glam-freak rap show to a room full of screaming, pawing young women, no bullshit. His mascara'd-up Iggy Pop rap and generally greasy junkie swag puts him in a lane all his own—but if it helps, he was down with Ke$ha before she was... whatever she is or was. Does that help? I'm still just completely confused by Mickey Ave's 2007 appearance in a Boost Mobile ad alongside Young Jeezy and Jermaine Dupri. I just wish I coulda sat in on the meeting where they gave that one the green light, at least to have some of what they were smoking.

Katie Kate is playing at Neumos that same night and promises to be a lot more interesting as far as, you know, music goes. Her newest album, Nation, is a hungry, rangy beast, establishing her own singular lane as our own Kate-Bush-hop indie auteur. Erik Blood and Pillar Point open up.

The night of Friday, May 16, Lil Jon is DJing over at Showbox Sodo. Okay, I'm officially now concerned about the trajectory of this week's column. The guy who was instrumental to the So So Def Bass All-Stars compilation (uh, "My Boo," anyone?) is likely coming to our city to play EDM for a bunch of turnt-up clown-dicks. Sounds about right.

Sunday, May 18, Bompton's YG and DJ Mustard take the stage at the Neptune, which will be the center of the ratchet universe for one night only. YG's long-awaited debut, My Krazy Life, is Def Jam's bookend to Kendrick Lamar's Good Kid Maad City—YG's kinda the Bad Kid. No great stylist or lyricist, YG brings a certain blunt, unpretentious hood-hop that, like Kendrick's classic, is contemporary but very clearly part of the same bloodline as early Ice Cube. It's also extremely on-time, judging by how many cars I've heard it slap out of. Thank god for those two gentlemen making the Game's embarassingness forever obsolete. LA—and Bloods everywhere—deserved better.

Maybe you like your LA rap a lot less active and a great deal more throwback—go fuck with People Under the Stairs at Nectar on Tuesday, May 20, which should be most chill. I wish the town had a little more chill right now, honestly. recommended