Coolest Thing In Awhile
disclaimer: i'm 38
The I is getting old now, or at least older than the demographic that gets targeted for rap-adjacent marketing. I still love rap music because I’m a freak for linguistics and when I hear somebody come up with a new way to say something, my ears go numb and there’s a slight tingle that travels through my spine. Despite that, when at a rap show, there’s a tendency to notice that almost none of the show is designed for a 38 year old man. That’s fine. Gotta sell t-shirts to kids. But it does result in the feeling of being an outsider in a familiar scene.
Not much has changed in the mid-sized venue rap game. A great rapper (before becoming the type of rapper that is on billboard charts) is often the centerpiece of the show surrounded by 15-minute sets by the friends they’ve brought along — none nearly as good as the centerpiece, and all seemingly in on the joke. There’s one DJ. That DJ yells a lot and often ends songs by playing gunshot samples or staccato bass punches. When I was young this slapdash felt thrilling, but now I know how stuff works so the thrill has been replaced by a sort of bemused satisfaction. Look at those fellas down there getting away with murder, raking in cash just by hanging with their best friends.
The other night, an old friend and the I went to see That Mexican OT and Maxo Kream. That Mexican OT is one of the most outstanding and utterly delightful new rappers in years, his raspy voice and rapid fire tongue rolling rhymes unlike anything. Rather than rely on it as a constant gimmick, That Mexican OT deploys his tongue twisters in bursts like the brrap of the chopper he’s always mentioning. Every single time I’m listening to a track and hear the tag — a yo, is that That Mexican OT? (ahhh-yi-yahhh hahaha) — my mouth involuntarily breaks into a wide smile. Here comes the bull in the proverbial china shop.
The show was not “high quality” but it was so good. The sound sucked. A few of rappers appeared to have been in bad cardiovascular shape from drinking too much lean, losing their breath during verses. But That Mexican OT brought the fucking house down, an absolute force rocking a football player’s curly long mullet and half-strapped overalls. Every entertainer does the bullshit stage banter — this is the best city on the tour!! — but go to enough shows and you can tell who’s happy to be there and who’s going through the motions of success.
That Mexican OT sounded like a kid the entire time he was up, his voice breaking as he thanked the crowd, regaling them with stories about coming out of the mud in Texas. He ran around the stage, brought a kid up to sing him happy birthday, and generally looked like the happiest man on the planet. He signed hats mid-song, grabbed cowboy hats handed to him out of the crowd and wore them, tossing them back indiscriminately. At least a dozen times, in an exasperated voice, the rapper would put his hands on his head and talk about how he couldn’t believe any of this is really happening for him. But it is happening, even as the rapper’s references to gang life limit his ability to chart. Like 50 Cent two decades ago, That Mexican OT is too goddamn talented to deny, regardless of how uncouth the subject matter gets.
My favorite detail from the show is the kind of thing that outs me as both an old man and an overly-analytical snob. That Mexican OT did something at the start of the show that I don’t think any other rapper in history has ever done: his walkout music to hype the crowd was Man In the Box by Alice in Chains. Without exaggeration, I have thought about that decision every day since the show, and in the moment thought it was maybe the coolest thing I’d ever seen? That Mexican OT was born in 1999, nearly a decade after Alice in Chains was popular! Given his size and the fact that he’s a Texas boy, I’m guessing that’s a locker room nostalgia trip — being an offensive linemen and loving Alice in Chains would appear to happen automatically. But there’s part of me that also wants to believe he got into it as a way of understanding the customers buying heroin. Like a form of method acting for trapping.
That made me so happy. That’s why I’m writing it here in this stupid blog for you. I kept thinking about writing something about the Kendrick / Drake stuff but honestly? Who cares. Two famous guys are mad at each other. Not interesting to me. I listened to “They Not Like Us” for the first time like two weeks ago and it was fine, but I don’t pay enough attention to dork hobbies to understand all the tabloid references.
[Blogger’s Note: very confused about why Kendrick said “69 God” at the end a bunch of times. If someone forced me to choose a side in this beef, I guess I would go with Kendrick’s because I have enjoyed his albums and never got into Drake, but the fervor with which complete and utter nobodies engage with these celebrity proxy battles? Good god, man. Make a friend.]
I’ve always been a fan of the rappers who don’t get famous enough to have famous beefs. When I was younger and ascribed more value to pop culture, I probably thought of that as some sort of intellectual badge of merit. Now that I’m old, I recognize that there is nothing intellectually valuable in knowing about obscure culture unless one also commits oneself to intellectualizing its obscurity. In the case of That Mexican OT (or Maxo, or BigXThaPlug, or Big Moochie Grape) the ceiling for their fame is embedded in their lyrics, with unashamed references to the legally and morally questionable path that led to their success today.
Rappers like That Mexican OT seem to keep a foot in the mud so they don’t forget what it’s like to get dirty. No matter how old the I gets that will be meaningful, particularly having acquired greater clarity on why these teenage kicks are so joyfully meaningless.