So Outkast is reuniting for Coachella next year. Your shitty band’s reunion will not engender half the goodwill of theirs, so fall back ’til 2015, please.
November 27, Sol makes his long-awaited return to his hometown stage, rocking what will surely be a sold-out Showbox Market along with Sam Lachow and Dave B. Sol hasn’t played in the 6 since last summer (another sold-out Showbox show), before he took a sabbatical from his flourishing music career, embarking on a months-long spin through a dozen countries, having been awarded UW’s Bonderman Travel Fellowship. Touching home and collecting his thoughts, Sol released the Eyes Open EP back in September, produced by Nima Skeemz, Budo, Elan Wright, Grumps, and the Zillas—the name applied to both Solzilla’s backing band and his fans. Spacious synths and big beats underpin Sol’s delicate, restrained brushstrokes. While he’s on occasion shown some real hanger on the mic, Sol’s breathe-easy sparsity better conveys expanded horizons.
Does it sometimes play a little like a familiar narrative—the college guy turned worldly humanitarian by a free summer abroad? Sure, a touch, because that’s exactly what it is, except that the guy is a fairly accomplished rapper as well—and being such, he can’t help but flex (i.e., brag, floss) about his traveling and, more importantly, about the deep appreciation of the human condition that he gained from his trip… which, at the end of the day, is kind of an awkward thing to flex. But he’s right: Understanding and compassion are fucking lacking, people are poor, hungry, dying—this is real. Whether or not you agree with my assessment, or care about any of that other shit, though, you gotta know that the well-executed moves, including the unmistakably post-Heist stadium posi-pop rap of Eyes Open, all point to big things on the horizon for Sol—but anybody paying attention has known this was the case for at least the past year. Starting in January, he’ll be hitting the road with Zion I. All Zillas should start lining up now if they want to be close to the front.
Two nights later, November 29—Moor Friday, by the way—Avatar Darko and Nacho Picasso co-headline the Crocodile. The duo’s Vampsterdam release has only gotten stronger with repeated listenings, their chemically altered chemistry strong, their ear for music dark like our city at 5 p.m. Nacho let fly his much-anticipated High & Mighty on Halloween, and a week later, Av—who’s long been, pound for pound, one of the most vivid rappers our town’s ever produced—dropped his slapping Boris the Blade tape. Just another brick in the wall of one of the town’s most impressive catalogs. Expect a tandem set and solo works from both this night.
That same evening at Washington Hall, you’ll find the Hip Hop History Month (that’s this month) edition of the Zulu Jam, giving you a cultural foundation you possibly didn’t know existed beyond Worldstar and Love & Hip Hop. If you’re even partly responsible for somebody’s upbringing, you should bring ’em to this. 