The Fader has a regular feature called "The Things I Carry" in which artists share what's in their pockets. A recent subject was Himanshu Suri, better known as Heems of Das Racist, the divisive, allusive, and pop culture savvy rap trio. Heems, along with the usual pocket regulars (keys, wallet) and an elephant totem from his girlfriend, was carrying a $30,000 check from Kmart, given to him in exchange for the rights to the Das Racist song "Girl" for use in a layaway commercial.
When I saw that check, I was annoyed. But while complaints about materialism in rap are common, it's easy to forget that rappers are character-creators, to whom flashiness is a way to promote an artistic brand. If I'm OK with other rappers' excess, why wasn't I willing to understand Heems from within the same context? Because of the way he looks, or where he went to school? At its best, Heems' music raises these sorts of questions, challenging the assumptions and double standards of rap fan groupthink. The question that has to be asked now that he's been playing these tricks for a couple years is simple: Can this philosophy make for compelling music?
In short, yes. His new mixtape Wild Water Kingdom is the most substantial solo project full-length associated with Das Racist to date, because it merges the academic underpinnings of Heems' ideas with thoroughly listenable rap music. Though he's still not the best rapper (his refusal to abide by traditional rhyme schemes will be frustrating to purists) he's made great strides here and is helped along by a NYC underground producer showcase.
Those beats, unfortunately, are forced to sustain the album's first quarter. Heems comes out swinging on "Cowabunga Gnarly", a banger from producer-of-the-year candidate Harry Fraud, but quickly loses steam, and resorts to his lazy reference overdrive, a trick which lost its novelty a couple years ago. Claiming, right after you declare your appreciation Junot Diaz, that you're "as smart as three SAT's," is fine, I guess, but the facts are unrelated. And the Crookers-produced "Third Thing" has a great singalong hook, but there's way too much nonsense in the amateurish verses.
Luckily, things do take a turn for the better. Around the halfway point of the title track, another Harry Fraud production (this one replete with gorgeous sitar strings), Heems decides to turns it on. "Freedom, put the heat up, who scheming for cheese/ believe in them please/ they need us to reach/ a piece with the place/ that's filled with the trees." These lines are rapped more fiercely and quickly than anything before, and they refer back to the family that Heems reps throughout the song, and the tape. And for the fans of the old Das Racist shtick, there's still an absurd Princess Diana line nestled a couple of bars later.
It used to be hard to tell if Heems wanted to be a rapper or if he wanted to make people who love rap angry. That's mostly gone now. This guy wants it, and his earnestness occasionally boils over, to the point of sappiness. Not sure if anyone realized that collaborator Safe sounds a lot like Dave Matthews, but the resemblance, and the resulting campfire vibe is enough to kill the otherwise tolerable "Medium Green Eyes".
More often, this newfound ability to speak plainly is a huge advantage for Heems. "Deepak Choppa", one of the best offerings here, is politically aware and seems truly angry, rather than bitter or sarcastic. "You know that we could send you back/ at any given time/ it ain't like money that you stack/ money for a lawyer/ that's the money that you lack," he raps from the perspective of an immigration agent, before transitioning into a different flow. On the second half of the song, he takes on race, repping his New York roots and his family and asking that you test his credentials: "I ain't black/ I ain't white/ I can't rap/ I can't write/ I ain't strapped/ I could fight." This isn't a sneer, it's a challenge.
In rap purist communities, the inability of some blog rappers to rap well is a well-documented gripe. Hearing a song like "Tell Me", in which two of the most disparaged targets wile out out over a huge beat from Earth 2's version of Just Blaze (producer Mike Finito), is some kind of head turner. Haters are still going to hate lines like Gambino's "Rush Limballin while I'm listening to tUne-yarDs" or Heems' spitting "Chamomile tea that we pour with splash." But those listeners will have to ask themselves-- would they hate these lines if they were coming from sources like Dipset, Roc Marciano, or Action Bronson?
Of course, those are the kinds of questions Heems has always provoked. Now that he's rapping well, that purpose is free to slide into focus. On Wild Water Kingdom, it's hard to argue with the beats. For the most part, it's hard to argue with the raps. You're going to have to ask yourself, if this guy is still bothering you, what exactly is it that you don't like? Because if it's the way he looks, or the references he's making, congratulations: you're now that guy who's too conservative to listen to rap music.
