Difficulties in the distribution of electrical impulses of liberation through oppressions’ abdominal edifices. Translations of martial manners to deappropriate whilst our maligned motor functions battle to reacculturate all the beloved melanated magicianship or in a less perfunctory modus operandi, the wisdom wars of actualized counter-cultural fucking chaos.
Ought there be a decorum for devastation, an ever increasing collection of elements to funnel sounds through drums, pounded pulses or wreaked words. Are they just patterned thoughts liquefied to dry?
Or will everything so easy turn so hard, so that the death of our arts is a consumed archive of forgotten reverence?
Just dance into a calculated cacophony
Alliterate all and alienate for the funk of fit, fly fullness
Internalize the traumas that the stylist grooved
The tough times behind the battle bars,
Hellish moments under the poeting lines needing to be unemptied
The stains of bad so good they write forever new
These just been a few metrics of a mister, a complex sir supreme.
Queens is a home of verbal fluidity and word dexterity. Poverty has been overcome by oppressed men merely with the pairing of words in manners the ordinary cannot attain. Lives of the lost and left are canonized in choruses of selectively delectable words, that ole flattery once named phatness of sorts. And the voices, charred into sinister tone or violently learned to unmatched exuberance have brought us animals on wax from beasts to the rare GOAT candidates. To respect the humanity of our supreme Blackness, I will reverse anthropomorphize a beast of rhyme too unspoken of, Mr. Complex, as his latest long player reveals him to be Forever New.
Mr. Complex, with his signature tempo agility, allows his dexterity to constantly double time to fit extra syllables, ultimately words, into bars, extends added techniques that layer the rhyme from internal rhyming to homonym excursions to alliteration. Along with delivering in short bursts, his inflections excite the pacing and add polyrhythm the vocal. His verses become heavier with repeated listenings weighing in on you (i.e. “Spit some death defying shit just like it’s Dutch/my flows is so foreign/but I can’t pull out now because I’m so far in…” – “Prove It To Ya”). Ultimately though, Mr. Complex takes verbal techniques and schematics to elevate his reality as a stylist. A stylist not merely by voice patterns and tones and degrees of enunciation; rather, by the rhythmic consistency he brings out of chaotic blend of techniques and his powerful persona through thematic songwriting.
Just as other supreme thematic lyricists that survived the #DarkAges (2000’s) from J-Live, Chief Kamachi, Mr. Lif to Jean Grae, making songs that go beyond battle bars but defined the MC’s MC by cleverness of the extended metaphor and advanced verbal and written techniques. With Forever New, Complex stretches himself even further with not merely the matter of meager MCs but with the subjects of our times. The pictorial of depression on “Stormy Weather Remix” versing, “I could see you naked, bummy and broke, with a cup/beggin looking like a joke/but it’s no laughing matter when depression begin to soak deep down in your bone/all alone in this cold world/you wish you could give just a little more to your baby girl…”) with a perfectly supplemented verse from Tiye Phoenix. For all Black and Brown brothers, police brutality is given a personalized lenses as we often are just “Gotta Get Home.” Another powerful verse, “Dead Black boy/pit pat on the back of a shooter/his prostitute is prosecutor/Fuck the police!/burn this bitch down/become a looter/grab that garbage can/bust that windshield/the ball is still in play…” with another ideal choice to co-MC, as Sadat X gives the normal stress situations (“…wife got an attitude/kids ate up all the food…”) that the ever impending possibility of police brutality mounts itself on.
These two stellar songs anchor and propel an LP that never disappoints in craftsmanship. A craftsmanship that Respect tha God reveals on the “Song Writer Skit” outro. The quest for a lady “pitching for the wrong team” is flipped on “Lesbo Flow” whilst “King Kong Love” details exploits with his loved lady. So Sad” bombs up the #RespectFAKE world that indulges rappers who make an art out of the farcing of art. “Journey” is an grooved auto-bio that reveals select memories from high school on with Percee P, Pharoahe Monch, Prince Po, O.C. and so many others. The jewel of the journey is that its a Hip Hop life with uplifting and fulfilling moments that push along to the next. These songs shift through subjects so well because Complex’ dexterity has always been endearing through a stylistic mastery in a conversational sincerity.
Musically, Mortal 1, with years of preparing this LP, has made every track its own adventure. The soaring Riedel vocals that lead us through the thickened hand clap snare, digital thud drums all dressed by the funky guitar woomps through “Pleasant Surprise,” the twanged lick, police sirens blaring and treble laden snare splash on “Gotta Get Home,” the addictively driving smash snare with a flushing cymbal on every opposite smash through “Prove It To Ya,” the hard rock lick and deep piano keys on “Stormy Weather Remix,” are some of the illness of a production that has its own signatures. These signatures from high sharp snare bangs, smooth and precise high hat snaps, gliding drums and drowning guitar or piano laden funk work accentuate Mr. Complex powerfully.
Mr. Complex is where the depth of Hip Hop music is really exposed. From a borough and a personal cipher that has produced more exceptional talent than possible to logically imagine. And yet, through the crates, there is Mr. Complex. And so, when we undust this record at any moment, if you had erred that long, you’ll find it Forever New.
#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:
Peace, Sunez Allah