My Philosophy

Okay, we now interrupt the Weekly Seattle Rap Show
Calendar—this is not a test. I got a few local hiphop CDs to
shed some light on, and no time like the present.

First up, the general of the Tacoma-based Street Academy,
Logics aka Young Ghangas, just dropped his debut, When
All Else Fails. Splitting time between Tacoma and the big lights of
Las Vegas, Els’ chief focus is the grind and the spoils that come with
it. Logics clearly knows how to rap, and he’s known for eating fools up
in a live setting; but while it’s a solid listen if you have a taste
for where his head’s at (grind, get fly, duck haters, repeat),
All Else fails in its lack of passion and in Logics’
often-just-adequate bars and wooden delivery. Els’ hustle is evident,
but on the mic, dude’s humor, smarts, and personality just aren’t
coming through here. The words rhyme, he’s name-checking lots of
good-life signifiers, but the dispassionate-baller stance never quite
cuts through to make an impression—unlike the bullying
Nelson-isms (ha-ha!) of his fellow Street cadet Jay Barz,
who (along with Mic Phenom) stands out on the cut “Run This.”
Logics reminds me of Jim Jones when he first popped
up—less in style or voice than in positioning and image; like the
swag-splashing DipSet capo, when Els gets it right and conjures some
real charisma on record beyond a material swag, he’ll make some
undeniable shit.

On the flip, we have Warm Blooded Cold Heart, the
official debut of Seattle’s own Central District/Russia rep
Avatar Young Blaze. ‘Tar has a thick (tarlike, if you
will) Newport-phlegmy husk well beyond his years, and he knows how to
use it authoritatively. His raps drip teeth-clenched intensity and a
lackadaisical menace that would make Jeezy go yeeeeeah.
Lyrically, he’s no slouch, parting his perma-smirk to spit
rewindables like: “Baby, time to clap like a snare/Got that Chad
Johnson/85 shots, ain’t none of ’em in the air—yayuh.” His
reverential street narratives are soil specific and forensics-grade
detailed, and they sound just right over some Swisher-friendly, Dirty
South–style synth-meets-live production from D-Sane,
Ron “Pop Champagne” Browz, and a bevy of names I’ve never
heard of (Trouble, Young Dru, Jim Bond, and
Taurus Scott). I can’t front—after the murdergram that was
his mixtape Russian Roulette 2, I honestly hoped for a classic
debut from the youngest in charge. Well, it’s not that. It’s a touch
overlong at 19 tracks, and its very focused subject matter a touch
derivative after an hour. But Avatar, quiet as kept, is one of the
town’s fiercest talents. His dead-inside brand of gangster music
may not be your twist, but tracks like “Don’t Want It” and the simply
schizo, no-hook death threat “Lights Out” could very well make a
believer—or a 911-dialing shut-in—out of you.