Beyond barely belated…
But bondage blocks be bloated,
Bitties been beleaguered to
Bitches, beys or buns
Bad bars blasting—banal barking—
Bricked booties bearing—Baroque blatancy—
Blokes bearing blouses?!
Besot blatant bestializing!
But bloodsong banks be building bills between buttocks
Skillastrator’s journals log fatigue. Rap is supposed to be boring. A drum repeating for four or so, all so an oppressed African American male can yell quips and jibes in simple rhyme. Syncopated sometimes to let us sleep through it better. They only sell a packaged black not the Black diaspora so the Caribbean drowns. Jamaicans go Di-di di-da, di di-di, dida-that way and no speak-eh spics no speakin on these records sonando so so Rican. And definitely no bit-piece, morsel or sides of any females. Boring. So when Merc the Big Body Benz rhymes, after so many years of trailblazers and pioneers, power patois to Boricua bars and through Lyte and Lauryn, there is a wonder that her gift is so necessary, still. Her entire creative life will be a Belated Arrival. We have waited a long time.
Merc the Big Body Benz, the Boricua Black sister, is a master of mic control. Her voice is highly pitched in exuberance like a teen who finally gets to speak of her passion after 8 periods of conformity. Her pitches swivel like Bodie’s head through the last season of The Wire. Her tones jump up and down, lay out chaos, throw insights in our face and then sashay away in a fading laugh at executed punchlines. Her music, as here, is intriguingly different. From the Indian chanting of ethereal aura cluttered nicely with handclap snares stuttering a consistently unsteady rhythm. Then diving with Merc on her bridges into a horn and highhat flame that all is “Ice Cold Fire” or the clipping of Quincy’s shook ones kitty for “Goddess” and flooding it with offsetting horns and a high hat that feverishly ticks and drumrolls. All this bedlam are just tracks seeking to keep up with an impeccable character. A character that doesn’t just make every lyric dynamic in delivery and punctuating stylistics but foremost with a content of depth and worth.
The worth is a lyricism as “Merc and the mercenaries/dispersing every person against me/if life is dire and you need then conspire in secret…” is all through “Super Nova.” A blend of insight, battle cleverness and extreme vocal dexterity with lyric complexity (word choice and layering) all offered with an absolute unfair strut of effortlessness. And when the songs fade away, Merc winks at us as her words strut by, “No one wins the race in racism/but don’t ever forget that you live everyday with the audacity to be Black in a whitewashed world you got some nerve you’re under attack/ we’ll be straight when self-hate becomes a thing of the past/life’s a burning and for certain I’m the flame in that ass…” Some are to let them know, some are real wise words and a lot we better understand.
“Creating a platform but it’d be great if on the way I put some cake on my plate to bring back home…” (“God Queen”). A platform of the voluptuous and proud Original woman representing for an oppressed diaspora, she has a natural positivity through sincerity (“Brighter Days”), an ingenuity for the abstract presentation of dominance (“River Styxx”) and the ideal simile and imagery art skills for battle bars (“Charlie Sheen”). Merc also can tell a story in a refreshing retrospective style as her ode to her significant other, that great Black brother Mose, on “Caught.” Merc creates songs that remind us brothers, and even sisters, listening that being a Black woman is a wonder of complexities to learn of. Even in her live show, she captivates nearly immediately achieving the swift and changeable internal and syllabically aligned rhyming with complete clarity. A reason why one of the greatest abstract lyricists and philosophers in rhyme, C-Rayz Walz, aids in managing and championing her gifts to us all.
Merc’s fearless willingness to let her performed poetic prose be an uplifting and powerful representative of the Original woman is also deliberate. The diversity of angles from motherhood to wife to warring sister to a struggling artist innovating is packed tightly, briefly and overwhelmingly in this prelude of Belated Arrival. Foolishly re-listen to see otherwise and through “Fools” she finagles fools in a finality to be felt that “I regret to inform you, the threat is that I Exist.” What lovely solace this writer finds in such fury…
Before backdoor blasting or belittling blasphemy, boxed into banishment–
I leave, no rewind, save my mind, enough words I gave to this time—
But behold! A broad?! Abroad!
Breaching the benighted! A barred Benz beams by,
Breasts Boom! Broadcasting Bap!
Blessed babe bleeding bitches
Bewilderment be her breathwork
like Buddah butchering a buffet
Or bully bison brandishing broadswords,
baboons balladeering boleros
Big body betroth beauty and beats…
#LOVEandLOYALTY A #LoLife
The organization of these principles around a counterculture, an expressive arts of creation that uplifts the ideas and thoughts of an oppressed people, is why I’m an honored builder amongst legends, knighted by heroes of Medina (Rakim Supreme Shabazz Allah/Rudy Lo, Thirstin Howl the 3rd, Bonz Malone) to further create in my element as a Hip Hop Writer of #ArtOnArt & #ScienceOnMusic. So the world may find love that locks in with the action of loyalty though they may never find another writer with my kind of grammar…
Representing the pillars of: