Akrobatik
Balance
Coup D’Etat
So much in politics is about the Law of Unintended Consequences – like welfare helping to break up the nuclear family unit and welfare reform finishing the job by forcing mothers to have two or three jobs and leaving their children unattended. In the mid-‘80s, I doubt if Tipper Gore and her PMRC broom brigade could foresee the fruit their actions would bear. With religious zeal, they really thought their Parental Advisory stickers would clean up the music industry. But, instead of the occasional swear word on an album, that same sticker has allowed folks to get nasty. Now, women brag about going down on soda cans on the radio. And that’s when they’re being clean!
Before the Tipster stuck her nose into the rap game, being “hard” was all about cadence and cleverness (“How do I plead to homicide? / Lyrics of fury”). The days of Rakim, Chuck D and KRS-One seem like a distant memory buried beneath the deluge of 50 Cent, Ludacris and Eminem. But, one day, their spirits – if not their careers – will be resurrected, and MCs like Boston’s Akrobatik will be leading the crusade.
With his consistently positive message, a lot of younger heads will probably think the man’s jellyfish. But Akrobatik is everything but (just listen to “Bone Crusher”). He’s got a Teflon testosterone cadence that rips holes in your speakers. He’s got a swagger that doesn’t depend on genocidal wishes and Pimp Lite dreams. Akrobatik can completely rely on his verbal skills and the mental gymnastics that he lays on the tracks. Braggadocio well-earned. This is MCing the way it should be. No bubble gum production and weak-ass R&B choruses. Akrobatik takes you back to the street that seemed abandoned as soon as Puff Daddy stepped out of his gold-plated, sample-laden Hummer.
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