Father – Back in the “A” Freestyle

Music in this post:

faviconfaviconfaviconfaviconnofuego Father— Back in the “A” Freestyle [youtube]

This post started as an album review, then promptly transitioned into a track review, because:

  1. Father’s album covers feature strippers and demonic genitalia, but not in an endearing Kool Keith kind of way.
  2. My mom might read this site some day (sorry mom, skip this post)
  3. Hyperbolic party music is hard to take literally or seriously, and
  4. It required too much caveating about misogyny to talk about anything.

So instead, I’ll leave you with a filthy track, and you know where to find the rest if that’s your thing. Despite every song being basically severely offensive, Father produces (always extra points) and raps on some incredibly catchy and innovative music with his unique drawl, and bottom line, I’ve listened to him for months so he deserves a mention.

Full thoughts after the jump.

It’s hard for me to review rap, in part due to the irrelevance of my Caucasian opinions on a historically African American art form, and yet the goal of this blog is to bring you to interesting music you may not have otherwise heard of, so I’ll press on. If you listen to one song by Father, make it Back in the “A” Freestyle. It perfectly encompasses his talents and unique production. The delivery is somehow both soporific and engaging. The personality he projects is bemused and detached. The narration is always lingering somewhere in the second person.

Production-wise, the up-down kalimba interval gives this track eerie forward motion, and it interacts in a strange space with the jabbed, syncopated grand piano sample. It’s like being in a concert hall and an elevator at the same time. The super short decay time of the abbreviated kick around 1:36 contrasts nicely with the legato sub-bass. I love this weird production.

The track is overall hot fuego. I’m mostly concerned that mainstream success will bring Father the way of Juicy J (which is to say, amplifying artificial ridiculousness over the real talents of the artist). I used to chuckle at/enjoy “Juicy J Can’t” (featuring the memorable chorus of “you say no to drugs\ Juicy J can’t”), and yet now his status a professional misogynist has destroyed that. Before I could write it off as silly posturing, but now I have to deal with the reality that people think that’s a quasi-real lifestyle. It’s the same with Father: the collabs with ILOVEMAKONNEN are gross commercial distillates with hard-ass beats.

Father’s overtly sexual energy extends to his collaborator Tommy Genesis, who’s also worth giving a listen to.


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