Take note: Mike G is coming to the Crocodile on Tuesday, June 26. No, not Mike G from the Jungle Brothers, or even Mic Geronimo, but Mike G from Odd Future. I can’t say I’m terribly familiar with his work, even though I’ve definitely listened to him alongside his more memorable compatriots. To be fair, I think a smooth, chill, and understated vibe is what he’s going for, which is well and fine (see: Domo Genesis)—but all I know is when I saw OFWGKTA at Showbox, his portions of the set were the main ones where I felt the need to refresh my drink, or when my conversation suddenly seemed more interesting than what was going on onstage. Touring with him are a couple of his young, new LA scene peers: Speak, the talented, bearded weirdo “art goon” rapper whose considerable claim to fame is ghostwriting Kreayshawn‘s lyrical tour de force “Gucci Gucci,” and the sharp up-and-comer Vince Staples, possibly the most Odd Future–sounding dude not in OF. Maybe that last has to do with Tyler, The Creator‘s inexplicable grudge against him, but don’t let that stop you.
Are you one of the dozens of people worldwide affected by the Canibus Incident? Did it shake up your worldview to see the man once believed to be the height of lyricism, your rock, the guy who once painted his whole body silver for a Wyclef Jean video, who once referred to himself as “Germaine Propane,” who described himself as “an animal with a mechanical mandible”—did it hurt to see him read prewritten punch lines (in between 20-second pauses) off of a conspicuously large yellow legal pad during a videotaped battle? Canibus once did the impossible—doing a better job than LL Cool J at making LL Cool J look like an ass. The bad decisions would only come fast, furious, and more frequent after that, though, as Canibus antagonized Eminem in his prime and decided that joining (and subsequently being dishonorably discharged from) the marines was a shrewd career move.
As for the battle itself, didn’t you know that half to all of the shit those guys say in battles is prewritten anyway? There seems to be a lot of disillusionment in the wake of all this (yes, hiphop cares about dumb shit, a lot), but there’s a certain poetry here: The inexplicable enthusiasm for Canibus’s over-verbose, laughably-aggro technical rap aura (post-1999) is part of the reason that we even have things like Jedi Mind Tricks or the industry of a cappella battle sausagefests, where sweaty, awkward dudes climb over each other to hear artlessly delivered accusations of homosexuality. Let it forever be known that in 2012, Canibus told somebody that he had “peanut butter honey brown eyes.” Now, get a job. 