Look at the image above. Through a chain-link fence we see Freddie Gibbs, smoking a joint by himself on a playground. Unbeknownst to him, matching his slightly zipped open Adidas tracksuit and his ever-visible Rolex, he is encompassed by a zebra print pattern that could easily pass as a section of a Rorschach inkblot. Unmoved, Gibbs sits and observes, despite the radiance that surrounds him. This is the backdrop for Piñata, a meeting between two representatives of independent hip-hop that generally stay on opposite sides of the aisle. A street king with zero interest in gimmicks, Gibbs finds himself rapping exclusively over production by Madlib, the dastardly, devilishly clever beat maker responsible for the now ten year old classic Madvillainy. Unlike Madvillainy, however, Madlib is not creating music for an absurdist, dazed, free flowing lyricist like MF Doom this time around. Throughout Piñata, Madlib is faced with the task of simultaneously matching Gibbs' hungry attitude and also pushing him to crack open his bullet proof shell. It's a balancing act for sure, but Madlib walks the line with brilliance and grace, helping one of rap's greatest lone gunmen reach new, astonishing heights.
Bobbing and weaving through onslaught after onslaught of chimes, synths, and strings, Gibbs takes a strong stance on a different set of issues with each song. Gibbs is a man of principle. Whether he's slandering major rap labels ("Phonies ain't gon' throw me in this Minstrel show") or reciting his lunch order ("Six wings, mild sauce, with all the fries you can give me"), the man's mind is made up. Yet, while ultimately unwavering on most matters, there are some evident shreds of remorse from this man who has gone all in on the gangster lifestyle. Consider "High," one of the more lighthearted moments you'll find on Piñata. Most of the song centers on the luxuries that come with selling drugs, but early on Gibbs admits, "Never finished college like my brother or my sister/ I was in the crib lying on a kush cloud/ Getting zoned out, eyes red/ Mommy and my daddy said my mind dead." On "Thuggin," he cannot deny that refusing to sign a contract comes with its share of setbacks ("Critically acclaimed, but that shit don't mean a thang/ When you rockin mics and still in microwaves cooking 'caine"). These regrets culminate in "Broken," where after reflecting on his grandmother's disapproval and the tension he created with his cop father, he comes clean, confessing, "And honestly I know I'm out here fucking up/ Seven grams of rock I stuff 'em in my nuts/ And seven bucks an hour wasn't good enough/ Cause seven days a week I'm living in a rush." It's big that Gibbs owns up to his mistakes on Piñata, but it's even more crucial that he never seems to abandon his identity or his moral code in doing so.
Interspersed through Gibbs' musings on thug life, Madlib orchestrates a great amount of seamless transitions that link the 17 tracks of Piñata together. These breaks include spacey instrumental interludes, soul samples, bits from Blaxploitation style movies, and recordings of Gibbs screwing around in the studio (one in particular, at the end of "Robes," catches him singing an hysterical rendition of TLC's "Waterfalls"). Guest verses are placed tactically, as Danny Brown ("High"), Odd Future members Earl Sweatshirt and Domo Genesis ("Robes"), and a cavalcade of other independent up-and-commers ("Piñata") bust out their premium material in hopes of keeping up with Gibbs. Paying respect to legends that have come before him, Gibbs also relinquishes the booth to Raekwon ("Bomb") and Scarface ("Broken"), and neither disappoint. Clocking in at an hour long, the album never loses steam, as both artists allot each other time to work their magic, but never enough to let the other go overboard. I can't say that everyone will flock to this album. Unfortunately, there will probably never be lines out the door to buy an independently made rap album. What I can promise is that true hip-hop heads will have an ear to ear smile on their face after listening through Piñata. And if that small group can do as Gibbs asks and "get on iTunes and buy this shit," he might just live to fight another day.
Interspersed through Gibbs' musings on thug life, Madlib orchestrates a great amount of seamless transitions that link the 17 tracks of Piñata together. These breaks include spacey instrumental interludes, soul samples, bits from Blaxploitation style movies, and recordings of Gibbs screwing around in the studio (one in particular, at the end of "Robes," catches him singing an hysterical rendition of TLC's "Waterfalls"). Guest verses are placed tactically, as Danny Brown ("High"), Odd Future members Earl Sweatshirt and Domo Genesis ("Robes"), and a cavalcade of other independent up-and-commers ("Piñata") bust out their premium material in hopes of keeping up with Gibbs. Paying respect to legends that have come before him, Gibbs also relinquishes the booth to Raekwon ("Bomb") and Scarface ("Broken"), and neither disappoint. Clocking in at an hour long, the album never loses steam, as both artists allot each other time to work their magic, but never enough to let the other go overboard. I can't say that everyone will flock to this album. Unfortunately, there will probably never be lines out the door to buy an independently made rap album. What I can promise is that true hip-hop heads will have an ear to ear smile on their face after listening through Piñata. And if that small group can do as Gibbs asks and "get on iTunes and buy this shit," he might just live to fight another day.
