I have a gigantic problem with people who describe underground/ \x93conscious\x94 hip-hop artists only in relation to mainstream bling rap-- as if bling is, was, and will always be the only kind of hip-hop that matters, as if it sets the standards by which all other hip-hop must be measured. Id est, \x93El-P illustrates a life far from the gun-slinging, bitch-humping, rocks-flashing steez of today's mainstream rap artists.\x94 It's condescending and ignorant to frame underground rappers in that way, as if the only thing an underground emcee represents is an alternative to your mainstream.
But what if a rapper bases his entire theme on being underground? Like, say, the super-conscious Pete Miser, nee Pete Ho, who raps from New York via Portland, OR, whose third solo record Radio-Free Brooklyn is tight, has some great moments, and ultimately flips 19 songs about his underground lifestyle? Pete is so underground, he brags about not having Rolls, bitches, hoes, or furs, in lieu of having assloads of friends, love, hope, and \x93karma\x94. Yes, karma.
Of course, it's pretty hard not to sound conscious and underground when your record's sprinkled liberally with the requisite images of war, racism, and the all-encompassing beauty of... Central Park: \x93If I had my way I'd stay a week in the park/ Forget about the phone and all the noise/ Shower in the fountain as the next day starts/ Kick it with the little girls and boys.\x94 The title track is a haunting image of Brooklyn after nuclear war, framed as a post-traumatic stress-disordered flashback: \x93I dox92t remember the place I was when the president died, but I recall the falling nuclear rain and burned skies.\x94 Dramatic, yet effective, Miser sets out in his world with an uninhibited emotionalism, though he's not self-indulgent like most emo rappers; rather, he discusses changing his name from \x93Ho\x94 to \x93Miser\x94 as a mechanism to combat racism; he writes a pretty sweet paean to his girl, elsewhere about his love for hip-hop culture, and the city itself. It meshes nicely with the tight production, ladeled by New York, with its easy beats sitting thick in the mix (but beware occasional, cringe-inducing moments of cheesy, straight-funk vibraphones...oy vey).
Miser proves himself a more than capable DJ, burning holes all through the record with his scratching skills. At the beginning of the apocalyptic title track, a sample of birds chirping is violently interrupted by a monstrous explosion; the beats kick in, and we hear someone panting, \x93there's no place like home.\x94 The whole thing lasts about four seconds, but it's a nice touch, and similar moments of creativity are embroidered throughout every song. Frankly, you'd expect a lot less from a man who can put \x93Dido's touring DJ\x94 on his resume.
Ultimately, Pete Miser is a pretty good underground emcee. Unfortunately, in the post-Aesop Rock world, emcees cax92t afford to be anything less than narrative geniuses; at the very least, they have to slay with the sharpness of their flow. And underground emcees can no longer simply ride on their underground-ness-- it's increasingly well known that as a whole, underground (or, to be more specific, independent) emcees rock better skills than mainstream ones: in order to blow minds, an emcee's either gotta have a hook, or innovate with rhymes, skills, or even production. When there are 57 million rappers out there promising they're gonna take it to another level, \x93pretty good underground emcee\x94 doesx92t really help you to stand out from the pack. From now on, I'm going to describe 50 Cent as \x93an alternative to all the peace-sign-flashing, bike-riding, mind-expanding conscious rappers.\x94
