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by Peter Agoston
1 January, 2002@12:00 am
0 comments

 One man’s floor is another man’s ceiling, dig? Hip-Hop remains progressive and stagnant almost simultaneously, or is it perhaps progressively stagnant or stagnantly progressive? Which ever end you light it, it’s ultimately going to burn down to something. It could be the essence, the bomb, or it could essentially be a bomb, like weed, follow? Is Prince Paul dope or just a dope on a rope (connected to his shoulders and navigated by the royal Prince Paul)? A puppet for mockery or the puppeteer of what could potentially be a vast undiscovered fanbase? Imagine that drunk college boy at the house party. Open mic time rears it’s ugly head and he’s hungry. Blabbering all types of nothingness as he falls over himself, he’s the laughing stock of campus although strangely enough lots of beautiful young girls and silly frat-boys really seem to enjoy his banter. But do they know why? And does he really think he’s dope? Two extremely important questions that seemingly link this stream consciousness to an actual record review.

MC Paul Barman doesn’t seem to take himself too seriously which is good. He knows he’s a no-ass getting white boy that raps much like our exemplified friend in the first paragraph (except maybe with a 95′ Kwest The Madd Lad twist). Or at least, I’d like to think he does (he seems to admit it on all 6 tracks, including the intro). But somehow he ended up on some of Prince Paul’s tastiest beats in recent memory so much like the undesired mayonnaise mysteriously found on the frankfurter you just received. You might as well grin and bear it because the dog just looks too good to throw away. Nawmean?

“The Joy of Your World”, are both Paul’s are their finest, if that’s possible (I mean at least for Barman). The Prince supplies a frantically joyous track for the other one to introduce himself. Granted, he’s humorous, very much so I’d say, and actually has reasonably good breath control, yet he’s also terribly dorky. And that is what will simply divide listeners, straight down and up. If you have a flexible sense of humor than you might be able to appreciate this. Because that is what this record is, humor (over some live ass beats). Anticon this ain?t, so don’t purchase this with anything like that in mind. Barmy, as he is so affectionately referred to as (“Salvation Barmy”,), again is a no-ass getting white boy that raps much like our exemplified friend in the first paragraph.

So dig, Barman want’s to be “used as your yearbook quote” so remember that. Thumbs up to Prince and the other one for trying something new, but you better believe if you blow the fuck up and get on some whatever-whatever shit, Hip-Hop is coming to Chapel Hill with Freddie Foxxx, Lord Jamar, the BOOYAH Tribe, M.O.P., and a whole bunch of other really intimidating cats to put your ass in the diamond cutter. Don’t get caught out there like that man. Oh yeah, your shit ain’t that bad either.

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