#Definitive Jux

[todayinhiphophistory]

Today in Hip Hop History:

Aesop Rock released his fifth studio album None Shall Pass August 28, 2007

[omegaremix]

Omega Radio for July 3, 2021; #271.

B0nds: “Misty Dawn” (ins.)

Earl Sweatshirt: “Grief” + “Quest & Power”

Madlib & Guilty Simpson: “The American Dream & Future”

Ahwlee: “Queasy”

Sal Dulu ft. Fly Anakin: “Zumo”

Pink Siifu & Fly Anakin: “Dollar Dr. Dream”

Nickelus F & Ohbliv: “Might As Well”

Lungs ft. Olasegun: “Bowcasters”

Puerta Vallarta: “All These Fingers” (ins.)

Dark Time Sunshine: “The Rite Kids”

Lil’ Ugly Mane: “Addict”

Lupe Fiasco: “Cripple”

Dabrye ft. Clear Soul Forces: “Sysfo Ridin’”

Dabrye: “Nova” + (ins.)

clipping.: “Say The Name”

Ono: “BLK Skin”

Moor Mother ft. Saul Williams: “Black Flight”

Domo Genesis ft. Earl Sweatshirt & Vince Staples & Action Bronson: “Elimination Chamber”

Flatbush Zombies: “Dirty Elevator Music”

Obnox: “Concrete Rose”

Mike Bonema: “Comfort A Joke”

Tyler The Creator ft. Santigold: “New Magic Wand”

Tyler The Creator: “Wilshire

Knxwledge: "awomanslifeislove” (ins.)

JPEGMAFIA: “Baby I’m Bleeding”

JPEGMAFIA X Denzel Curry: “Bald” (RMX)

Nnamdi Ogbonnaya: “Gimme Gimme”

Your Old Droog: “Babushka” + “Smores”

LNDN DRGS: “Make Money”

Ho99o9: “Prey Or Pray”

False Tropics: “Balthus” (ins.)

Alchemist: “Who (Got My Back)” (ins.)

Freddie Gibbs: “Big Boss Rabbit”

Benny The Butcher ft. Freddie Gibbs: “One Way Flight”

Conway The Machine ft. El Camino: “Forever Droppin’ Tears”

DMX ft. Griselda: “Hood Blues”

DMX ft. Jay-Z & Nas: “Bath Salts”

Nas ft. Hit-Boy: “EPMD”

Daringer: “‘97 Hov Pt. 1” (ins.)

Phife Dawg ft. Busta Rhymes & Redman: “Nutshell Pt. 2”

Gotham ft. Busta Rhymes: “The Quiet One”

Peter Rosenberg ft. Method Man & Raekwon & Willie The Kid: “The Next Chamber”

Rakim: “The Black Messiah”

Prodigy ft. Knxwledge: “The Good Fight”

Run The Jewels: “Ooh La La”

Vast Aire ft. Cosmiq: “Good Fuel”

Al Skratch ft. Large Professor: “Be Original”

Onyx: “Ahhh Year”

R.A. The Rugged Man ft. Slug & Eamon: “Golden Oldies”

Pete Rock: “Beat Goes On” (ins.)

Kyron: “Who Shot Rudy”

Czarface & MF DOOM: “Meddle With Metal”

Necro ft. Immortal Technique & Vinnie Paz: “Take Hip-Hop Back”

Vinnie Paz: “Guilty Remnant Cigarettes”

Bronze Nazareth & Recognize Ali ft. Willie The Kid: “Olympic Gold Medalists”

Bronze Nazareth & Recognize Ali: “Season Of The Seven”

Termanology & Shortfyuz: “T2”

Evidence: “All Of That Said”

DJ Premier: I’m Legend" (ins.)

Mount Westmore: “Step Child”

Snoop Dogg & Dr. Dre & Ice Cube ft. Xhibit: “Streets Of California”

Cypress Hill: “Band Of Gypsies”

J Dilla: “Life” (ins.)

Double deluxe Omega; all hip-hop and street.

[warhead]

[descepcionista]

"schools burn, the churches get boombed LIFE IS A SITCOM we get on, flip on, switch arms. spine tangle mind strangle corcazoid negro nigganoid watch back " CONCHETUMARE JAJAJA

"I live on tha second floor, Luca moved Tha names Aesop Rock but u could call me Bazooka Tooth"

DAMN

[thewaysoundtravels]

(via The 10 Best Def Jux Albums To Own On Vinyl - Vinyl Me, Please) 

“Without taking away credit from the genius assortment of minds surrounding him, El-P was at the helm of every album released on Def Jux. Below, read about the label’s 10 best”.

See also Def Jux Records from 2000 to 2004: more than El-P’s brainchild.

[votava-records]

Cannibal Ox - The f word (rjd2 remix)

Album: The Cold Vein

[juxtaposedrose]

Panopticon [oneshot, NSFW, F/F]

ok. by popular*** demand, here is 1.2k of obsessive evil lesbian mech pilot hatemasturbation. it is very much Not a sneezekink or adjacent fic but still blisteringly horny along a bunch of other axes particular to me, lmao.

some basic character context since these two are part of a larger setting:

Seo-Hyun: stringy spiteful arrogant little yandere. hoards secrets and deeply enjoys using them to pick her enemies apart. Pilots PHANTASIA, a drone-based hacking platform designed to gather a brain-liquifying amount of realtime tactical info and exploit it to the fullest.

Rhea: quiet twitchy butch service top. tall, dark, terrifyingly physical. breaks your arm as foreplay. Pilots RAPTURE, a shock-and-awe assault frame that'll scare you half to death before its lance takes care of the other half.

These two are on opposite sides of a war, and have hooked up once before (it went Poorly, to say the least). Seo-Hyun still can't keep the memories out of her mind, much to her frustration.

relevant tags: cockpit masturbation, overstimulation, degradation, light descriptions of gore, scent kink

You know what they say: you never really know a girl until you watch her capillaries twitch in 5D subjectivity-sync panorama.

Seo-Hyun leans back in the cockpit and frowns, brushing one scene away and flicking over to another. Around her is a broken-mirror constellation of moments in extrapolated spacetime, PHANTASIA's fractal s[y/i]m-sensorium arrayed in full splendor. She's pulling every feed indiscriminately, visual and infra and lancet anatomy and acoustic, a superimposed hypermemory cacaphony. There's no obvious order, no hierarchy, just a common theme:

Rhea, small talk, the way her words form like her mouth is overfull and she can't bear to swallow, Rhea, lips wrapped around the mouth of a bottle like she's ready to bite through it, Rhea, eyes like compound fractures, howling death from hoarse lungs, juiced on killswitch fervor, Rhea, vivisected, splined into diffuse anatomy, cushioned gelsockets and carbon-core bones and spiderwebs of latticed redundant nerves, Rhea, laughing, half-throttled by a tightened throat but betrayed by her shoulders, Rhea and her too-sharp grin, Rhea choking on a mouth full of blood and shattered teeth, Rhea supine staring at her with heaving breaths and matted hair and that same love-hate-fuck-kill expression, in that kiss-you-and-suck-out-your-spine way,

Rhea, glaring, knelt, cock thick and twitching against her waistband and sheened with needy pearlescence—

Seo-Hyun bites down on the inside of her cheek hard enough that only perfect interoception stops it from drawing blood. The fragment is gone not a second after it materializes—using passive voice is infuriatingly unconvincing, even to her—but the damage is done: the flush coloring her cheeks, the stinging in the side of her mouth, the flashfire induction coil of heat uncurling in the pit of her stomach. She glares, first at nothing in particular, then up at one of the hundreds of superimposed slivers of the culprit. Lets herself settle in the chair, crosses and uncrosses her thighs, fails to suppress a small shudder at even the cursory friction.

Rhea in the prefab's meager gym, sweat glistening off pumped trapezius, the glint of subdermals coiling up her spine—

One of Seo-Hyun's hands creeps across her syncsuit, brushing the already-sensitized cap of one of her nipples. She pulls in a sharp breath.

Rhea's lips, full and strong, deathcrushed against hers like she's kissing to win, the taste-heat-fullness of her tongue in her mouth—

The hand slides lower, fingers creeping between thighs, pressed against the cool, near-skintight clutch of the suit. She finds a rhythm, slow at first but unwilling to stay that way, a flushed resentful accelerando.

Rhea, soaked head to toe in blood, eyes bright and adoring, a still-beating ventricle clenched her teeth. "For you," comes her voice from unmoving lips, "all for you, Seo—"

Rhea's arms Rhea's mouth Rhea's tongue Rhea's cock Rhea's teeth Rhea's scent RheaRheaRhea—

"Ffuck," Seo-Hyun breathes, leaning back further. She can feel the slickness beneath the suit, the way it shifts under her fingers, can feel the way this makes her feel and hates it, needs it, needs more—

She shuts her eyes and pulls PHANTASIA's focus inward, wrapping herself in a deep-field scanblanket, and exhales sharply as she finds her prize. A half-millimeter of dark hair on her collar, thicker than her own, desiccated but still flush with bioresiduals, salt and shed epiderm and lipid fragments. She turns the Ardor's attention to it, then twists in the cockpit, pulling a folding survival knife from its place in her field carry with her free hand and taking a bundle of her syncsuit in her teeth. After a few dilated seconds of desperate sawing, the knife drops with a clatter, and a fist-sized patch of her own crumpled suit cuts free. Seo-Hyun shoves the fabric in her face like a chloroform rag, inhales greedily, and routes all twenty-four of PHANTASIA's mimesis clusters to olfactory.

The million-sample approximation of Rhea's musk hits her like a tide, ozone and iron and sweaty kevtex and camphor and cheap prefab soap and hot debasement dripping down her back and the noise it pulls out of her is so high and ragged and slaveringly hungry she flushes crimson as she hears it. Something like shame crawls from her stomach and she balls the hand holding the scrap into a fist and slams it hard enough against the Ardor's endoskeleton to jam a finger but even the sunburst of pain feels like a polybraid-tendoned hand pinning her wrist, like the lust-edged grunting satisfaction of an armbar dislocation, like her—

"F-Fuuuhcking useless brih—hhck," Seo-Hyun half-moans, hips bucking as her good hand works furiously against the heat-trap smoothness of the syncsuit. She’s so wet it’s all but frictionless now; it isn't enough—she pulls back and fumbles for the zipper, normally-surgical movements made sloppy and scrabbling by overboiling want, and plunges two fingers just below its terminus, fucking herself with rough, spiteful desperation. "Pathetic bleeder frhheak. Waste of a—ahn—a ffucking Ardor on a glazed-over h-hhammerbrai—hh!ned mutt—"

She imagines hissing it in Rhea's ear, imagines what she'd get back, the mewling repartee—and before she can second-guess, PHANTASIA has it ready.

"Yes," says almost-Rhea, half-whispered and thick with barely-shackled lust, 99th-percentile synthesis reverberating through her cockpit. "More."

"Yes. More? Dihh—hn—dsappointing even from you," Seo-Hyun hisses, less steady than she wants and too horny to care. "You're f-ffucking lucky I bother wasting breath when all I get back is your mh!—monosyllah—bic animal want. Garbage," She's getting close, the cadence of her fingers tightening to jagged staccato. "Whiiny, defective fuhh—hcktoys don't deserve to share my air or hear my voice, let alone be spoken to." She thinks of Rhea, the real thing, face tearstreaked hands bound cock throbbing at attention, begging for reminders of her place, and feels the molten wave building in her gut begin to crest.

"Yes, Sir," Rhea's voice, moaning now, the perfect swell of need, the perfect tint of shame—"I'm worthless. I'm nothing."

"Nnnh—no," growls Seo-Hyun, curling fingers in her core, the lightest brush of her thumb across her clit like the jolt of an arc flash, an erupting cascade of pleasure down her spine. "You’re worse—"

The sensorium shatters as Seo-Hyun does and for interminable seconds she has only her thoughts in her brain alone and the only thing there is her her her, gorewhore supplicant Rapture fuckbitch with voice like a lathe, her name a fucking curse, an oath, a profane prayer—

“Fuck you, Rhhmmnn—!!” She muffles the taboo into an arm and clenched teeth, hips twitching in the air as she rides out the most shameful and brainmeltingly intense subsync orgasm she’s ever had, endorphins crackling across every inch of her like sheets of cold fire.

Eventually, it settles, and she regains nominal control of her limbs and lungs again. In a drainpipe rush of sensory collapse, Seo-Hyun breaks sync from PHANTASIA, pulling back to solo subjectivity. For several minutes, she lays unmoving in her pilot’s chair, legs trembling, heady with oxytocin and adrenaline and fury and a hundred other things that for once she has no desire to dissect or categorize.

Next time, if she lives that long, she’s stealing a pair of boxers.

[squigglysquidd]

Nice Night For A Black Wedding

I commissioned @palavenmoons for a preME1 Juxtaposed Jane and Garrus for the rewrites. I absolutely love what Palavenmoons did with this! It fits perfectly with the gothic style wedding I have planned for the Jux rewrites so I'm happy to share this.

It's definitely a nice boost to get to the rewrites!

[caltropspress]

RAPS + CRAFTS #29: Masai Bey

1. Introduce yourself. Past projects? Current projects?

Peace. My name is Masai Bey. I did a few albums. The Panacea Goldmind, C87 (with BMS), Natural Magic Music, Art Of The Covenant, Beboppin, Guardians Of The Gate (performed with L.I.F.E. Long as Auxiliary Arms). I’ve done a bunch of features and collaborations with other artists. I am currently “retired” from making albums, but I still practice a little.

2. Where do you write? Do you have a routine time you write? Do you discipline yourself, or just let the words come when they will? Do you typically write on a daily basis?

I usually write at home. Lots of times the ideas come while driving in the car, but the construction is usually at home.

3. What’s your medium—pen and paper, laptop, on your phone? Or do you compose a verse in your head and keep it there until it’s time to record?

I would say I’ve always been more of a pencil and paper person, but for the last couple of years it’s been my phone because I use the phone to make notes of ideas. Before I know it, some of those ideas transform themselves into half verses.

4. Do you write in bars, or is it more disorganized than that?

Both.

5. How long into writing a verse or a song do you know it’s not working out the way you had in mind? Do you trash the material forever, or do you keep the discarded material to be reworked later?

I usually do all of my editing while I write. I keep the discarded material if it can be reworked in a different context.

6. Have you engaged with any other type of writing, whether presently or in the past? Fiction? Poetry? Playwriting? If so, how has that mode influenced your songwriting?

I used to do a little poetry writing. Writing poetry taught me how to display an idea a few different ways while reinforcing the single concept.

7. How much editing do you do after initially writing a verse/song? Do you labor over verses, working on them over a long period of time, or do you start and finish a piece in a quick burst?

Most of my editing happens while writing.

8. Do you write to a beat, or do you adjust and tweak lyrics to fit a beat?

I like to write to the beat. It gives me the space to put the pieces together rhythmically.

9. What dictates the direction of your lyrics? Are you led by an idea or topic you have in mind beforehand? Is it stream-of-consciousness? Is what you come up with determined by the constraint of the rhymes?

Everything you just asked. All of these are used.

10. Do you like to experiment with different forms and rhyme schemes, or do you keep your bars free and flexible?

I do both. Whatever seems to make sense to me at that moment.

11. What’s a verse you’re particularly proud of, one where you met the vision for what you desire to do with your lyrics?

"Nonstop." That song was the B-side to the "Paper Mache" single released on Definitive Jux. That song is me.

12. Can you pick a favorite bar of yours and describe the genesis of it?

“My flav was made for any particular age: zero years to eighty, / 7000 B.C. to 7000 A.D.” 

I wanted to use the word age two different ways.

13. Do you feel strongly one way or another about punch-ins? Will you whittle a bar down in order to account for breath control, or are you comfortable punching-in so you don’t have to sacrifice any words?

I’d rather not punch-in only because I like to record the energy flow of the entire verse.

14. What non-hiphop material do you turn to for inspiration? What non-music has influenced your work recently?

Soul, funk, club classics, freestyle, jazz, etc.

15. Writers are often saddled with self-doubt. Do you struggle to like your own shit, or does it all sound dope to you?

Sounds dope to me.

16. Who’s a rapper you listen to with such a distinguishable style that you need to resist the urge to imitate them?

I never had the urge to imitate anyone.

17. Do you have an agenda as an artist? Are there overarching concerns you want to communicate to the listener?

I have no real agenda. I just always wanted to make music that sounded dope to me and share it with the world.

RAPS + CRAFTS is a series of questions posed to rappers about their craft and process. It is designed to give respect and credit to their engagement with the art of songwriting. The format is inspired, in part, by Rob McLennan’s 12 or 20 interview series.

Photo credit: Unknown (contact me).

[todayinhiphophistory]

Today in Hip Hop History:

Mr. Lif was born December 28, 1977

[crystaldivination]

Hi❤ I m a new follower and I jux saw the latest post of ur game. May I knw if it's still open? It looks interesting so I would love to join if it's not too late

Hi ❤️ thank you for following my blog, hope you’ll like it here. Unfortunately that game is already closed, I’m only answering left asks from it but I’ll definitely open more game in the near future so maybe I’ll see you then!

[tsikli]

Ðusyþ word of the day #356

felerislli (local governing body)

/fe.ˈle.ʀis.ɬi/ [fe.ˈle.χɪs.ɬ̱ɪ]* ⟨ṗeloʔerisš⟩

*Standard dialect

Etymology

From Old Ðusyþ pfelo'erisš "local ministry", from pfelo'er "throne" + isš "DIM"; "little throne", in referring to how they were like miniature versions of provincial or national governents.

Definition

n.

(historical) a felo'erish, the governing body of third order subdivisions (sub-counties), who submit to the governing groups of provinces or kingdoms, who submit to the national government. Responsible for local affairs, such as collecting taxes, enforcing laws, managing basic services, and dealing with local issues. Often less removed and detached than county earls, sub-county governments were often intimately connected with daily life in an area. The only group under this are mayors and village leaders. Sub-counties were disposed of in the 700s when their roles were divided to county earl or mayors/village leaders.

äktəsei nų̂dpfęlǫ'erisš ai nąvtulįną jux. speak-IMP DAT-earl concerning ACC-matter DEM Talk to the felo'erish about this matter.

2. middle management

3. middleman

ekofelerislli rels, yktmixksei. COP.1SG-middleman only talk-NEG-2SG>1SG-IMP I'm just a middleman, don't talk to me.

[warhead]

[da-ill-spot]

Video: (2003) Aesop Rock & El-P - "We're Famous" Live at The Basement

These were the times yo! I was going wherever shit was popping! And The Basement in Sherman Oaks was definitely one of the hottest spots to catch some of the illest MCs for free! I believe Aesop and El played the Key Club or El Rey the night before. The house was packed wall to wall and out to the streets! Please check for the YouTube channel with much more vintage performace footage on there. Much love!