My brother's motto is "find it yourself", but I'd like to think of myself as your weekend DJ, indirectly (listen to me or not, I'm on a existentialist quest either way).
Not since the days since I was head over heels for MC Lyte, have females in hip-hop music enamored me so. I got to wondering where this all started, and I concluded Missy Elliott's (no relation) anything goes, shapeless, genre-hopping version of femme-fronted-hip-hop was the culprit, and that has temporarily made her a pioneer of sorts (haven't heard much I've loved since "Get Yr Freak On" though). Many have followed, namely M.I.A., whom I think may have cemented it two years ago with Arular, and many have tagged her a one-trick pony, but "Bird Flu" is just schizophrenic enough to prove them wrong. Lady Sovereign (bringing it back (somewhat) to the old school) had a nice track record, but has since become tiresome cheeky fodder. And poor Lily Allen (whom I actually have high hopes for), not hip-hop per se, shows promise, but has already succumbed to the dark side; a place where the artist in her is doomed to fail. Which brings us to today, the end of another spring Sunday.
Unite!!! Have great expectations. There are plenty of Missies in the sea. I'm beginning to think the revolution has (even) yet to be started. Here are some guide posts in finding a mini-mix for your late night party which is inevitable. First, find Santogold (pictured above), make her your friend, and immediately click on "Creator". Then detour towards Lil' Mama's (to the right) handclap and foot-stomp backed "Lip Gloss" (the video's remix provides a nice freestyle that exposes her as quite gifted). From there it's on to the overly-blogged (as of late) Kid Sister, where you'll need to make the switch, for the crunked, but future-forward, club banger, "Pro Nails". Within this process you could accent said mix with jaunts around my blog, again Yo Majesty's "Club Action" would fit, as would "Innocence" from Bjork's, finally leaked, Volta.
Then again the Mad Decent blog could have you downloading and dancing for weeks, all the while tapped into the pulse of the fortunate ones who habitually globe-hop.