KingsOfKings
𝕄𝕒𝕕𝕝𝕚𝕓 𝕚𝕤 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝔾𝕠𝕒𝕥
With generational rappers, part of the joy of their longevity is aging alongside them. You feel that in a number of ways—both in their content and subject matter, and physically, their voice earns a pleasant layer of dust and grit. When I listen to the first track on the ageless artist Freddie Gibbs’ stellar new effort $oul $old $eparately, “Couldn’t Be Done,” and compare it to the first song of his I ever heard, 2009’s “Boxframe Cadillac,’’ what’s striking is how little has changed sonically.
Part of this has to do with Gibbs’ physical gifts. He came into the game as a dexterous prodigy with a textured, world weary, old soul instrument that didn’t require words to tell his story. The other part of it is his apparently bottomless well of flows. He’s simply one of the most consistent rappers we’ve had this century—bar to bar, song to song, album to album.
And yet the Freddie Gibbs that Complex spoke to on a recent Friday afternoon, from his home in Los Angeles, couldn’t be more different than the raw rapper who emerged from the streets of L.A. by way of Gary, Indiana. He’s rich and famous now. The hardest of hardcore rappers who would openly share his exploits on the streets in graphic detail, both on wax and on the record, is now as much an artist as he is a certified media personality.
I feel like everything that I really wanted to do with music, I’ve done it,” Gibbs tells Complex. “I think right now it’s just time to collect. It’s time to collect the accolades, the awards, the money and all of that. I feel like I put in a good amount of work, especially into this project… It’s not a lot of guys from my generation in my age range that have been doing it as long as I have and as consistently as I have ever. I’m like LeBron right now.” And it makes sense considering the album. It plays like a sustained victory lap.
Part of this has to do with Gibbs’ physical gifts. He came into the game as a dexterous prodigy with a textured, world weary, old soul instrument that didn’t require words to tell his story. The other part of it is his apparently bottomless well of flows. He’s simply one of the most consistent rappers we’ve had this century—bar to bar, song to song, album to album.
And yet the Freddie Gibbs that Complex spoke to on a recent Friday afternoon, from his home in Los Angeles, couldn’t be more different than the raw rapper who emerged from the streets of L.A. by way of Gary, Indiana. He’s rich and famous now. The hardest of hardcore rappers who would openly share his exploits on the streets in graphic detail, both on wax and on the record, is now as much an artist as he is a certified media personality.
I feel like everything that I really wanted to do with music, I’ve done it,” Gibbs tells Complex. “I think right now it’s just time to collect. It’s time to collect the accolades, the awards, the money and all of that. I feel like I put in a good amount of work, especially into this project… It’s not a lot of guys from my generation in my age range that have been doing it as long as I have and as consistently as I have ever. I’m like LeBron right now.” And it makes sense considering the album. It plays like a sustained victory lap.
Return of the Gangsta: Freddie Gibbs On ‘$oul $old $eparately,’ and More
Freddie Gibbs’ new album plays like a sustained victory lap. The rapper talks to Complex about using adversity as fuel and treating this album as an experience.
www.complex.com