Missed the rest of the Now Take Them Out Devils end-of-the-year coverage?
Check out Part 1 Here
Check out Part 2 Here
Check out Part 3 Here

The Black Hippy crew definitely had a good 2012. ScHoolboy Q started the year off well with Habits & Contradictions, an album that somehow managed to meld Southern party rap with gloomy trip hop and the eeriness of mid-nineties East Coast hardcore. Control System, Ab-Soul’s darkly psychedelic tour of his own mind, followed. But the Hippies were saving the best for last: come October, Kendrick Lamar released good kid, m.A.A.d city. And it’s the best record I heard all year. Heck, it’s the best record I’ve heard in years.

Good kid is subtitled “A Short Film by Kendrick Lamar,” but it’s not an accurate description; if anything, it’s closer to a one man show. Actually, scratch that. Talking about good kid in terms of other forms of media (while helpful in establishing that yes, there is an ongoing narrative at play here, yes, this is a concept album, no, that isn’t considered a bad thing anymore) is ultimately pointless, because like many other works of genius, it would be impossible to translate into another medium. What makes Lamar’s masterpiece so amazing is how it uses the structure of an album to tell a story, or rather stories. Over the course of seventy minutes, Kendrick shuffles through personas and perspectives; sometimes he’s a sixteen-year-old version of himself, sex-and-status crazed and freestyling in the back of his friends car for the first time; sometimes he’s the sister of a prostitute he eulogized in his first album, Section.80; sometimes he’s his father, weary and drunk; sometimes he’s many all at once, an ethereal amalgamation of human hopes and failures. Lamar weaves tales of teen lust, peer pressure, bloated egos, self-doubt, and revenge elegantly around one central incident in which the girl of young Kendrick’s dreams lures him across town to get jumped. The whole thing is a brilliant machine, with well-paced cliffhangers, musical themes connecting disparate threads, and, and I can’t believe I’m saying this either, possibly some of the only good uses of skits in the entire history of hip-hop. Voicemails from Lamar’s parents and conversations with his friends help flesh out his character, sketching a portrait of a likeable, sensitive kid trying to seem cool in front of his more gangster friends. Overall, it’s the story of teenagerdom: testing out unknown and dangerous waters until it gets too deep and too far away from the shore. good kid is the story of a boy who’s deciding whether to fight against that riptide all the way to the beach, or just drown.

The whole thing sounds great, too. That east-meets-south production of Habits & Contradictions is done even better here, especially due to the addition of Compton G-funk flair. Everything that happens in good kid takes place in Los Angeles, sure, but this is a coastless album, in certain ways.
It’s an album to dance to, and one to cry to.
It’s an album for anybody who’s ever been a teen.
It’s the best album of 2012.

And that’s it for 2012. Hope you’ve had a good one, and be sure to tune in next week for more Now Take Them Out, Devils. Follow Simon Lazarus Vasta on Twitter @Hunter_S_Narc

Read parts one and two

The Almost-Best Albums of 2012 (In No Particular Order)

Killer Mike, R.A.P. Music

R.A.P. Music is one of the most streamlined hip-hop albums of all time. Mike jumps into a track, makes his point, and moves on with intense momentum without ever feeling rushed. El-P’s production is complex without ever becoming baroque. The whole thing is short enough to fit on one LP, yet it overflows with content. It’s a record that feels old school and brand new at the same time, where the political is the personal, where each track is just as good as the last, and you’re damned sure not gonna play favorites. From the unforgivingly blunt and brutal opening salvo “Big Beast” to the music-worshipping spiritual release of the title track, you are immersed in Mike’s mission statement, his manifesto. Heck, it’s called R.A.P. Music. No filler, no skits, just straight heat.

DIIV, Oshin

Even the staunchest defenders of Shoegaze and Dreampop have to admit that those genres have a tendency to get a little repetitive; indeed, some would even argue that it’s part of the charm: it’s ethereal music, music to get lost in. However, more often than not, the songs end up getting lost themselves, and you’re left with an album full of samey blah.

Oshin isn’t one of those albums. It’s vast and dreamy, certainly, but it’s also diverse and surprisingly structured. Instead of an intangible lump, it has a point a and a point b, visiting the likes of the slow chug and virtuous guitar playing of “Air Conditioning” and the propulsive Post Punk of “Doused” along the way. It’s one of the most fully realized records to come out of the current Brooklyn scene in a good long while.

Fiona Apple, The Idler Wheel Is Wiser Than the Driver of the Screw and Whipping Cords Will Server You More Than Ropes Will Ever Do

What’s most immediately apparent about The Idler Wheel… are its contradictions. It’s fragile and strong as steel, melodic and dissonant, hysterical and sober, wrathful and loving, cynical and naïve, guttural and transcendent, sexy and grotesque. There’s the mental prison of “Every Single Night,” but there’s also the unbridled freedom of “Anything We Want.” There’s the unrequited love and loneliness of “Valentine,” but hold out ‘til the goofy double entendre of “Hot Knife.” I’m not certain if The Idler Wheel… is the best Fiona Apple album, but I do think it’s her best expression of herself overall: a bundle of incongruous ideas, fierce and vulnerable. Also, genius.

Frank Ocean, channel ORANGE

Do you need me to tell you that channel ORANGE is great? It topped the best albums of the year lists at Spin, EW, The A.V. Club, The WaPo, The NYT, Billboard, and many, many others. Rolling Stone put it at number two, but that’s only because Bruce Springsteen released a record this year. At the time of this writing, Pitchfork hasn’t announced their top 25 yet, but rest assured channel ORANGE will top it (and if it doesn’t… well, we’ll talk about that in part four). And you know what? Everybody ever is right. In a lot of ways, channel ORANGE is just as much a part of 2012 as “Gangnam Style” and “Call Me Maybe”. I heard it at house parties, dive bars, specialty coffee shops, blasting out of car stereos, backstage at CMJ showcases. It’s genuine and soulful and accessible and everybody should listen to it because it’s got a little something for everyone and a lot for almost anyone. If you haven’t given it a chance by now, then god, Jed, I don’t even want to know you.

But. It’s not my album of the year. It’s mad close. These four records all came close. But I’m going to discus my favorite record of the year, shit, possibly my favorite record in years, in the next entry of: Now Take Them Out, Devils!

To Be Concluded… Follow Simon Lazarus Vasta on Twitter @Hunter_S_Narc