Saturday, May 07, 2011


can't jam it in your car. all those bright, perfect crisp beats are
carefully balanced and tested to hit thru a pair of twelve inch subs
sitting in a ported box behind your backseats. slowing it down by five
percent just throws off the balance and makes it sound like you're one
of those guys with a system that only jams metallica. screwtapes on a
real car system create a sustained rattle and rumble. sustained bass hit
after hit layering over each other, sounding like a bass growl thru the
chassis, trying to overheat the amp....

the rest of the tape, screw doing his thing. and i always check for
tapes with a classic nas track. study that street dreams, something i've
heard enough, played my it was written end to end a million times, to
really understand what screw is doing. that strong, rich new york beat,
trackmasters beat. stretched out to show you those winks of synthesizer
in cross section and drums compressed and flattened into the floor of
the track. picture screw's fat, soft hands running over shiny black wax
and loose fader. letting the gunshot interlude that introduces i gave
you power to fade instead into bomb first and hail mary mixed against
each other, playing the farrakhan million man march speech that pac put
on his cd, fading into me and my girlfriend played out before the
obligatory da brat and e-40 tracks.