The Leader

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The title of Soul Position's new album, Things Go Better with RJ and Al, refers to the rap duo's personal progression since their 2003 release 8 Million Stories, yet it also seems to be a sly dig at the mainstream rap world's vacuous offerings. With the shallow crunk smeared across rap stations on television and radio, it's easy to understand why some people are hesitant consider hip-hop as a valid form of musical reinvention; yet one listen to Soul Position's comparatively insightful music skims only the surface of what "underground" rap has to offer.

The tone of the duo's new album is set immediately by "No Gimmicks," a loud-and-proud mission-statement of sorts: "No major label power moves, no costumes / No broad on my album with a fat ass / No wardrobe malfunctions, no power luncheons, this is it." In a recent interview with The Leader, Blueprint says the song-with lines like, "No crunk music, no funk music / No contemporary jazz fusion"-isn't so much a particular dig at producers and artists currently in the rap business, but rather a refusal to abide by the trends that are so prevalent. "If you know crunk music, that's what everybody's trying to do. And some other people are trying to make this jazzy smooth shit, R&B, but we're not trying to do that."

At the same time, Blueprint-whose steady, slightly forced-sounding voice sounds formidable even when he's not reciting his lyrics-recognizes the musical innovation that can take place within the major labels. "Kanye, Outkast, Common Sense-you know, mainstream doesn't mean you don't have to be creative, but [on major labels] it's better to be safe than to try to do something. But if being on a major label allowed us to do the music that we do now, it wouldn't be a compromise."

RJD2-whose solo albums Dead Ringer and Since We Last Spoke have brought him considerable solo success-agrees with this true-to-yourself credo. Asked what hip-hoppers can do to keep their music fresh and unpredictable, RJ answers simply: "There are a million and one things you can do, but you gotta tap into yourself and your music." He cites Bank Rock, MIA and The Streets as artists currently defying the tropes of the rap world by remaining at its periphery. "They aren't assigned to be hip-hoppy records," he says, "and that's cool. I think that's great."

Soul Position shares with groups such as Immortal Technique, Mr. Lif, Murs, Blackalicious and any number of underground crews a desire to juxtapose rap's commercialistic hedonism with the very real repercussions of some getting-fucked-up-in-the-club party anthem. Things Go Better, for example, presents a double-header of lightweight jams ("Blame It on the Jager" and "I Need My Minutes") followed by a song like "Keys," in which a gang member drunkenly kills a couple in a bar's parking lot, or "Drugs, Sex, Alcohol, Rock-n-Roll," an epic involving alcoholism and sexual molestation. Blueprint considers this contradiction a necessity, something of a reality check: "It's all part of the spectrum. If it's okay for me to 'Blame it on the Jager,' it's gotta be alright for me to 'Drugs, Sex, Alcohol, Rock-n-Roll.' There are people that abuse all of these things and fuck up their lives."

Frankly, such juxtapositions ultimately hamper Things Go Better: it's frustrating that songs as awful as "Blame It on the Jager" and "I Need My Minutes" can share space with songs as genuinely great as "Hand-Me-Downs" (Blueprint's ode to past black generations) and the closing "Things Go Better," which has a strikingly original beat courtesy of RJ. That said, this new album is leagues better than 8 Million Stories; the duo seems more astutely aware of the directions that hip-hop is moving in and uniquely defies such preconceptions without seeming forced.

Asked about the often-voiced (and rather ludicrous) viewpoint espoused by some music critics that hip-hop is already losing its luster and has nowhere else to go, RJ noticeably scoffs. "The concept of treating rap like it's a living, breathing entity is something I can't go along with. I don't believe in it as this living thing that has some health meter. I don't really care if it does, you know? I don't have any problem with it, it's just not where I'm at." Blueprint is similarly wary of such ominous generalizations, but offers a solution for rap's continued vitality: "Consumers have to stop being lazy. There are artists doing every type of music that people would want to listen to, you just gotta go out and find it... I think that's the future of hip-hop, the consumers." With the ubiquity and popularity of non-artists like 50 Cent and the Black Eyed Peas - "rappers" that are totally different from each other, but share an idiocy that trashes everything that hip-hop stands for - it's hard to disagree with Blueprint's accusation.

At almost exactly thirty years old, hip-hop is old enough to make us realize it's more than a fad, yet young enough for us to be unaware of its direction, and curious enough to have nearly limitless potential. If Blueprint is right, and if rap's vitality depends on consumers' eagerness for something new, then it seems like we should turn our musical attention to the underground rap world, where artists like Madlib, MF Doom, Edan, Aesop Rock, Talib Kweli and the like are twisting hip-hop into deliriously eclectic directions. As uneven and tenuous as Things Go Better and 8 Million Stories may be, Soul Position belongs to that world as well, if only because RJD2 and Blueprint are so adamant in keeping their music away from dominant trends in a musical form usually seen as the epitome of trendiness.

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