beards&hiphop

sometimes i listen to something like saxophone colossus and i think that all the best music has already been made.

i could lose an entire afternoon looking at old blue note album covers.

remember when every bitch was sweatin shannon brown now he only plays garbage games after the knicks are already eliminated lol

Looking Back: The Mercury 7 - On this day in 1959, we introduced our first astronaut class, the Mercury 7. Front row, left to right: Walter M. Schirra, Jr., Donald K. “Deke” Slayton, John H. Glenn, Jr., and M. Scott Carpenter; back row, Alan B. Shepard, Jr., Virgil I. “Gus” Grissom, and L. Gordon Cooper, Jr. 

Looking Back: The Mercury 7 - On this day in 1959, we introduced our first astronaut class, the Mercury 7. Front row, left to right: Walter M. Schirra, Jr., Donald K. “Deke” Slayton, John H. Glenn, Jr., and M. Scott Carpenter; back row, Alan B. Shepard, Jr., Virgil I. “Gus” Grissom, and L. Gordon Cooper, Jr. 

nothing like a minute and a half of waka recording backup vocals

I can’t find anything about Thor Malasquez, or really anyone involved with this track, on the internet, at least in English. This song is elsewhere attributed to Clandestinos. If anyone has a link they can shoot us, we here at b&hh would appreciate the hook up because this shit is silky.

This is the only song on the Soundcloud page currently, but I hope this is a promise of things to come. The plinking keys somehow bring a wealth of atmosphere to a beat that eschews the typical Clams-esque synths that innumerable rappers are using to flesh out their sound now. The drums are boom-bap enough to keep the flows on here relatively traditional, but both rappers showcase a dexterous, verbose flow that makes me wish I had more than a passing acquaintance with Spanish. Gonza in particular blacks out, breaking loose of the beat near the end of his verse and dropping syncopated syllables in a fury without losing track of the square high-hat/snare keeping time. An excellent tune for the coming Monday to block out the complaints of that idiot who works in the cubicle next to you.

copped 

coltrane is a literal god

(Source: themaninthegreenshirt, via aural-art)