Saul William’s thoughts are chucked, with a violent precision, at grinding bass and whirling synth.Syllables rattle at your ears. Difficult to get at first, all that's clear is that he's got it and the reasons he is recognised as a spoken word pioneer, hip hop poet or whatever are clear. Every sentence drips with significance, right from the start, and he is worth quoting in full:
“cartons of the milkyway with pictures of a missing planet / last seen in pursuit of an American dream”.
Images skip like cut newsreel:
“an MC told a crowd of a hundred to put their hands in the air / an armed stepped into a bank tells everyone to put their hands in the air / a Christian minister gives his benediction while the congregation hold their hands in the air…/ Hands up!”.
Words clash together and reverberate off each other; it can be disorientating, but let yourself get shaken up and iAntertwined and intricate street scenes emerge:
“a young child stares at a glowing screen transfixed by tales of violence / his teenage father tells him that that’s life / not that Barney shit / a purple dinosaur that speaks of love / a black man that dreams of blood / which one is keeping it real son? / who manufactured your deal son?”
and the breakdown centers around a stuttered exchange with some beggartype pandering you jaded thoughts: "penny for a thought" exactly. Towards the end, backed by tense snares and scratching, the track morphs into a kind of exorcism. A snarl at all false pos
turing. As he says himself "be men, motherfuckers, be men". If you like it try out the beatbox spit of “Sha Clack Clack” and biographical wanderings of “Black Stacy”. Williams is spine-tingling; a voice to refresh rap.
PennyForAThought.mp3
ShaClackClack.mp3
BlackStacy.mp3
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