Tuesday, January 02, 2007

optimism '07

I got two big reasons to look forward to '07.

As Mondesi's House points out, dem Stillers recaptured some of that coke on Sunday. Shayne Graham's job-destroying shank was lucky, but we'll call that karma for the three horrible calls made in the previous drive. It wasn't just James Farrior's suplex or Fast Willie's touchdown redemption. More than anything, it was seeing Cowher in all his chin-jutting glory, screaming on Willie Colon after a stupid taunting penalty. When things had gone horribly wrong this season, Cowher looked more bewildered than antyhing else, asking himself "who are these losers and where the fuck is my Superbowl team"?

It's looking like retirement is likely, but the Chin will be handing off a playoff caliber team that turned around a season that was more stupid than anything else. Fast Willie is putting down 100 yards like its nothing and Santonio is finding his hands. Big Ben looks capable, even without the heroics of the last two seasons. We're drafting unreasonably high, so hopefully that can shore up some problems in the secondary. And maybe a new coach won't need Memento-style self-tattoos to remember the underused weapons Najeh Davenport and Heath Miller.

Reason number 2? It looks like underground rap is getting interesting again. Copies of Sean Price's Jesus Price Superstar and Brother Ali's The Undisputed Truth have been staring at me from my "LISTEN" pile for a week now, as has Pharoahe Monch's new mixtape. And Liberation, the Madlib/Talib Kweli is the kind of two-dudes-I-sort-of-check-for tag-team that makes me take note. Ghostface/Theodore Unit are pretty much infallable these days; I started an entire post about Trife's magic hooks after hearing "The Roosevelts". El-P has a new album due soon too.

I'm still apprehensive about this change of heart, and I'd still rather hear Yola Da Great say some dumb shit about how he's a legend at 17 than hear the dudes from dead prez say some dumb shit about the impending revolution. And I'll take any of the assorted trap-hoppers over Lupe's self-important bullshit. But as Dipset falls apart and I'm not as blown away by the new Chamillionaire mixtape as I thought I would be, the creativity balance might be swinging back towards the underground. Either way, I might need to cop more streetwear before I start going to shows again.

Special optimistic shouts go to the Democratic congress, Eliot Spitzer, my mom's new house and assorted dudes I know taking the blog hustle full-time. LET'S E-GET IT!