By Gary Suarez in Newsletter — Aug 28, 2024

The Tortured Poets Department: August Edition

August doesn't have to be a "dump month" for new rap albums. +reviews of EBK Jaaybo and RU$H & SwuM

Savvy filmgoers know that the two worst months to go see a movie in theaters are January and February. Colloquially known as dump months, this pair historically follows the PR-driven prestige of awards nomination season, when studios vying for Oscars and Golden Globes release their would-be contenders in Q4 or sneak in a limited theatrical release right before the late December deadline. Once the calendar year finishes, the new year launches with the stuff Hollywood wishes it hadn't funded, or at least doesn't expect much from.

Genre fare–particularly action and horror–and film festival leftovers tend to get this treatment, with far lower budgets to recoup than those of summer blockbusters or celebrity-helmed critic bait. Q1 2024 featured flicks like Argylle, The Book Of Clarence, and Night Swim mingling with a reliable glut of indie releases (including more action and horror!) that all help keep the proverbial lights on at brick-and-mortar cinemas during these commercially weak months. Exceptions exist, like the surprise success of Jason Statham's brutal and buzzy The Beekeeper, and platform-exclusive debuts on streaming services certainly complicate the narrative, but the rule largely holds true.

August also tends to be a softer sales period for the movie business, with the summer's successes approaching the logical tail ends of their theatrical runs. Once again, it proves a great time for big studios and distributors to unload stuff that tested poorly or that might benefit from less rigorous competition. That's a cynical view, you might say, but after a month-old Deadpool & Wolverine topped last week's box office over debuts Blink Twice (No. 4) and The Crow reboot (No. 7) it's hard to argue with it. And coming this Labor Day weekend, we have Dennis Quaid as the titular president Reagan and the long-delayed (as in, a full year) frightener AfrAId to look forward to.

Hip-hop drops happen at a far more vigorous pace than movies, obviously. But this August has largely felt like a dump month for rap albums too. Coming just a few weeks after Ice Spice's curt Y2K!, Cash Cobain's similarly unremarkable PLAY CASH COBAIN seems to solidify that singles-driven sexy drill, even from its top tier practitioners, can't sustain a whole album worth a damn. Lyrical heads too lacked the collective appetite to chew on Killer Mike's post-Michael odds-and-sods word salad successor Michael & the Mighty Midnight Revival, Songs for Sinners & Saints. Latto's Sugar Honey Iced Tea couldn't crack the Billboard 200's top ten in the summer doldrums, while Logic's conceptual clusterfuck Ultra 85 and YG's guest-heavy mixtape Just Re'd Up 3 fared worse there. Even Ye diehards had to concede his shabby second ¥$ effort with Ty Dolla $ign didn't keep that same Vultures energy, although it did chart very well in its opening frame.

Instead, the best rap albums of August came from independent artists wholly unburdened by major label expectations:

Freed from a Def Jam apparatus that scarcely knew what to make of him, Navy Blue stepped up on his own terms with the introspective Memoirs In Armour. With producers like Nicholas Craven, Chuck Strangers, and Child Actor in his corner, he dutifully delivers an autobiographical update that reinforces his deserved reputation.

North Carolina's MAVI followed his acclaimed 2022 effort Laughing So Hard, It Hurts with the somber, grief-stricken shadowbox. As emotionally resonant as any indie drama, his confessional account of alcoholism and heartache makes for a truly moving listen.

On a New York tip, Atoms Family alumnus and onetime Def Jukie Alaska reunited with producer Steel Tipped Dove a second time for Reverberations Of A Dead Man's Ego, doling out more lived-in wisdom through observational anecdotes and asides. The guest list includes his Call Out Culture cohorts Curly Castro and Zilla Rocca, along with some adroit scratching by turntablist Marcus Pinn.

And of course, there was the return of Brownsville Brooklyn's own Ka. Currently limited to direct digital purchases from his website, his self-produced The Thief Next To Jesus utilizes spiritual means as a thematic springboard to profound ends. His pen remains all-but untouchable, his verses as thorny and symbolic as the ones that rested upon the head of God's son (and I ain't talkin' 'bout Nas).

As tortured poets go, these are among my faves. And they all dropped in August...

Further August listening: '89 the Brainchild, Night Lives; Chuckyy, Tweak Til The End; Durkalini & SURF GANG, CHURCH & SURF; GeezLy, GeezLy's World; MESSIAH!, the villain wins, ØKSE, s/t; OldBoy Rhymes, The Sane Asylum.

EBK Jaaybo, The Reaper (buy it / stream it)

Many a rapper has had their career hindered, halted, or altogether ruined by the realities of their rhymes. As is the case with so many Black and brown people in this country, the vortex of mass incarceration insidiously comes too for these artists, often at the worst possible time. Case in point, EBK Jaaybo's current imprisonment maddeningly coincides with a genuine surge in popularity and a nationwide look for the Stockton, California native. Eerie and engaging, his 2024 singles like "Boogieman" and "Probably Cursed" garnered millions of streams and views amid a winning year overall for the West Coast. (Thankfully, he shot these music videos and several more in advance of his detention.) All the while, he's been in active mourning over the loss of his brother EBK Osama, a topic he addresses immediately on The Reaper opener "Pops Punch Me In." Befitting its forbidding cover art, the 21 track album forges into sinister, violent thematic terrain, dressing down opps on "Satanic" and "Straight To Hell." Without relying on flashy features, he levies credible threats at street level on "Give That Chain Up" and "Not Got Miss Again," their shared darkness as pervasive as its synthesized bounce.

RU$H & SwuM, LO-Fi ART (buy it / stream it)

Just in case his Fendi Don nickname didn't clue you in, RU$H is big on luxury rap. Teaming up with seasoned lo-fi producer SwuM, the Delaware artist continues to build his bespoke brand via bars that heavily reference fashionable clothing designers and other high-end labels. Like his preceding collaborative efforts with Mike Shabb and Jay Nice, to name but a few, LO-Fi Art feels like a pop-up of sorts, its brisk run-time showcasing a few choice pieces. "Moncler In The Night" conjures enviable activities like shopping sprees with beautiful women, later reinforcing his hedonistic lifestyle on the "Ruth Chris At The Bulgari Milano." He fares well on stacked posse cut "Gods In Celine," where artists like Big Cheeko and Estee Nack spit with ease over a soul-dabbled instrumental. SwuM's beat selection is remarkably diverse, nudging the rapper into auto-tuned R&B on the frayed throwback "MUSE" and pop-rap pleasures on the upbeat "FENDI FENDI GQ GQ."