All Out
NameTag
Familiar Trip
I.M.O. (Ill Mind Optimist)
Half Empty
Nothin' But the Ave
What's Left
Insomnia
Carefully
Liberate

   I hope you are prepared to be smacked in the face with mind bottling lyrics Mic Familiar has weaved together that seem like they know you. Lets face it, if you like listening to rappers talk about things you'll never own and that is the extent of your attraction to the genre, you have no right to speak about Rap. Hip-Pop maybe, but not Rap. If you think Gucci Mane is only about ice cream, and with our continuing adoration of incredibly obese rappers Gucci will probably release an album in 5 years, you are missing the point of it all. The struggle, regardless of race, gender, sexuality, or religion, is the basic building block of Rap. The second block is the rhymes which describe the struggle, and a third is the beat. There are more blocks, but a message, some wordplay, and a metronome is really all you need to make Rap.

   Rap is a different breed, you don't need any actual classical talent. There are no notes to hit, just words. Trust me, I can say the words a Katy Perry song contains, but so can William Shatner. In fact, Shatner is the only person who could actually be paid to say a Katy Perry song. Baby, your a, firework.

   Mic Familiar is no Gucci Mane. He is in decent shape. Impeccable shape for the average American. He never breaks into melody, and is truly a rapper. His kind of rapper is a rejection of the abject servitude Rap has become known for. Most party animals grow quite vapid with time, and many rappers are no exception to this truth. Sure, their songs are fun to dance with, but you don't take them with you when you actually want to think. When you don't want to think about the ramifications of drug dealing in the same hood that raised the antagonist. Or celebrate his or her unquenchable thirst for things that shine, with the lying that comes with it. Rappers who have a diamond for every record sold. Almost reminds me of Lindsey Lohan.

   I feel the need to apologize for rap because the message is often flawed, the words lack complexity, and the beat is rehashed. When was the last rapper who actually produced a beat? Mic Familiar begins with “All Out”, which has a haunting beat that feels like a viscous lava flow. Molten earth bubbling out of the speakers. The easy go lucky life at first, suddenly Mic is wrestling with God, the rap game, flippant youths and their drug adulation, and you immediately know this is a rapper who can't help but be honest. Prepare for a scathing critique of your life. Except, like a parent, you know he is disappointed in what he has to do. He shouldn't have to point out the obvious, but he does it For The People.

   “Name Tag” continues where “All Out” left off, and begins to build the story of this album. Mic Familiar certainly does not tolerate the presumptions people carry with them. He doesn't suppose he is cool and that you should feel blessed to talk to him. The fact is, you are blessed. So don't bother him with inane conversation. Enjoy yourself, but enjoy humanity first. The Golden Rule of life, or parties, in a rhyme scheme. By now, you will be prepared to enjoy a “Familiar Trip”. If you haven't taken this album too personally, you will start to see your acquaintances, and occasionally more intimate individuals dragged through a crucible.

   The next couple songs relate musings on the importance of several subjects. Skin color and the history of generations past which are indelible etched on our most superficial layer, social status, and personal honesty are central to “Ill Mind Optimist”. “Half Empty” is a rejection of the inclination to conform. A sad reflection on the ease in which an individual loses himself and begins to reject those who remain above the murky waters which let no sunlight in. “Nothing But the Ave” reminds you that this is a gritty, urban tale that remind the listener that there is a struggle, yet the idyllic beat works in concert with the lyrics to remove much of the urban scenery and instead plays as an equal condemnation of the suburbs.

   “What's Left” gives the listener a brief reprieve from the onslaught Mic Familiar unleashed upon that vapid party culture. It feels like a personal note of sadness, something left undone. A positive message represents a brief interlude before the album returns to its prior territory. He celebrates his nature unreservedly, and the listener knows that the same is expected of themselves. By the time “Carefully” the listener should have developed the tolerance to the critique. So he ups the ante, and rips the listener into a whirlwind of rhymes that stretch the imagination.

   “Liberate” finishes the album. The listener should understand Mic Familiar by now. This is when the anger and frustration that have been building for an entire 10 songs is released. Let go. It is a matter of life or death, of individual or automaton. More than just a fork in the road, the message comes full circle. No one is born an automaton, no one is born to reject another sentient beings' right to their own life. Go ahead and recede into your thoughts if you want, protect yourself with the salve of supposed social acceptance, but don't relinquish the kinetic power you bring with every step.

Kieran de Rooy