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investment piece: j. lindeberg

I recently picked up a blue blazer by J. Lindeberg, the Swedish clothing company admired by golfers and the Paris news.  It was one of those purchases that was too good to pass up.  Gilt notified me two months after I added the item to my wait list that the jacket was back in stock and had been reduced even further, selling for $99 from $540…true story.  The quality, stitching and material for a round of drinks at The Box?  Had to do it.  I couldn’t let an item like that face an uncertain thought or another second of indecision.  I’ve come to be pretty judicious in my clothing purchases, but there are times when you have to pull the trigger.       

By the fall of 2007, I was well on my way to skinny jeans.  I was in year four of an open-ended experiment, attempting to completely revamp my wardrobe from sub-urban chic to sartorial splendor.  During my junior year in high school I donated some items to Goodwill and pushed the remaining Rocawear and Sean John to the corners of my closet, filling the empty space with slim fit Express jeans and Banana Republic dress shirts.  That makes me chuckle now, actually - thinking how fashion forward I thought I was at the time.  It’s amazing to think about how I managed to get through 16-17 years of middle-America fit/sizing without feeling like I had committed any fashion faux paus.  I suppose I hadn’t really, I dressed for the times of music.  But as BKB stated you have to “push yourself to the limits of your imagination, the brink of your stamina, and the edge of your wits — accepting nothing less than the best from yourself.”  My eye was on Vanity Fair’s International Best Dressed List, Esquire’s Big Black Book.  Tom Ford suits at my wedding, Ferragamo shoes, Patek timepieces - the whole kit and caboodle.  So while everyone waited for Jay-Z to dictate their next step, I moved to Sweden for a few months… 

The turning point came that fall, after I had settled into my two bedroom apartment off the Rissne train stop in Stockholm.  The city had an enormous impact on my view of style, fashion and what it means to pursue great pieces.  Emotions were literally worn, as clothing offered expression that worked well against the stereotypical cold demeanor Swedes have been known to carry.   Having never considered Stockholm to be a style capital, I would often notice the local kids around my age wearing Burberry or Tiger of Sweden - premium brands that are hard to afford when the tax rate hits over 50%.  It was even more unusual, because most of them didn’t hold jobs.  Yet they appeared to have more investment in their clothing, preferring to purchase less items, but with higher quality, something you might imagine a young resident of Paris doing.  The shirts and the pants were snug all the way through.  My eyes were transfixed from one subject to another, questions popping up at every stop along the line.  How did the pants get so slim at the ankle?  What longevity do corduroy blazers have?  What kind of fold is that for the scarf?  Is that a scarf or just a really large ornately designed bandana?  A country boy up against European sensibilities.  I constantly examined my style against theirs, in an effort to blend in I’m sure, but also as a personal challenge for growth.  Could I see what I like and incorporate that style in my wardrobe?  One of the greatest statements Caro has ever made to me was declaring that she had come to New York to challenge her style.  In retrospect, Stockholm was my emancipation.          

I’ve been trying to tailor and taper, trim and snip everything since. ~Nik

Originally slated for 5, we squeezed in a couple of late morning stragglers for Sunday brunch at Barrio Chino (which by the way is a must stop if you’re an egg lover).  PG got the better seat this time - a view looking onto the street.  I got the middle position uncomfortably situated between BKB (whose penchant for leg room is tactless) and him, while my plate rocked over two uneven tables.  Fine.  We were with two lovely women, very dear to all of us.  
Miss Jade Lee, what can I say?  Muse to many, wedding planner extraordinaire, lover of Jordan 3s and all things YYT, was up from Atlanta to mix business and pleasure.  Caro was also there, Alexander Wanging it and talking that ‘Frisco/LA talk.  This was their first time meeting, but not the first time hearing about each other.  They got along swimmingly.  Seeing them together was at times mesmerizing - two insanely ambitious women who sell big dreams, execution, and want even bigger rocks (like you’ve got to be kidding me).  We discussed the poetry of city life, weddings in the South, and double shot margaritas.  Cool.  Time to move forward.  
The wind picked up a bit, still clean and crisp from Winter, but the sun was out, and sometimes that’s all you need to turn Sunday into hangover Monday.  Passing by the street fair (at which no one seems to stop), hitting Orchard and Stanton, we decided to pay Sami a visit at Thompson LES.
After finishing the last drags on a couple of lights, we were greeted by Sami and his ill fedora in the lobby.  Once he explained the background on that hat, we knew we were in store for a good afternoon.  Out on the deck, BKB hastily ordered a bottle of Veuve to get casual drinking out of the way … and then we sat down.  If you’re a friend of ours, you might remember our most recent outing there with Paula and co.  This go around held the same charm.
Against the backdrop of shadowy high rises, we watched the evening develop, enjoying good spirits and conversation with friends both old and new.  
~Nik      Originally slated for 5, we squeezed in a couple of late morning stragglers for Sunday brunch at Barrio Chino (which by the way is a must stop if you’re an egg lover).  PG got the better seat this time - a view looking onto the street.  I got the middle position uncomfortably situated between BKB (whose penchant for leg room is tactless) and him, while my plate rocked over two uneven tables.  Fine.  We were with two lovely women, very dear to all of us.  
Miss Jade Lee, what can I say?  Muse to many, wedding planner extraordinaire, lover of Jordan 3s and all things YYT, was up from Atlanta to mix business and pleasure.  Caro was also there, Alexander Wanging it and talking that ‘Frisco/LA talk.  This was their first time meeting, but not the first time hearing about each other.  They got along swimmingly.  Seeing them together was at times mesmerizing - two insanely ambitious women who sell big dreams, execution, and want even bigger rocks (like you’ve got to be kidding me).  We discussed the poetry of city life, weddings in the South, and double shot margaritas.  Cool.  Time to move forward.  
The wind picked up a bit, still clean and crisp from Winter, but the sun was out, and sometimes that’s all you need to turn Sunday into hangover Monday.  Passing by the street fair (at which no one seems to stop), hitting Orchard and Stanton, we decided to pay Sami a visit at Thompson LES.
After finishing the last drags on a couple of lights, we were greeted by Sami and his ill fedora in the lobby.  Once he explained the background on that hat, we knew we were in store for a good afternoon.  Out on the deck, BKB hastily ordered a bottle of Veuve to get casual drinking out of the way … and then we sat down.  If you’re a friend of ours, you might remember our most recent outing there with Paula and co.  This go around held the same charm.
Against the backdrop of shadowy high rises, we watched the evening develop, enjoying good spirits and conversation with friends both old and new.  
~Nik      Originally slated for 5, we squeezed in a couple of late morning stragglers for Sunday brunch at Barrio Chino (which by the way is a must stop if you’re an egg lover).  PG got the better seat this time - a view looking onto the street.  I got the middle position uncomfortably situated between BKB (whose penchant for leg room is tactless) and him, while my plate rocked over two uneven tables.  Fine.  We were with two lovely women, very dear to all of us.  
Miss Jade Lee, what can I say?  Muse to many, wedding planner extraordinaire, lover of Jordan 3s and all things YYT, was up from Atlanta to mix business and pleasure.  Caro was also there, Alexander Wanging it and talking that ‘Frisco/LA talk.  This was their first time meeting, but not the first time hearing about each other.  They got along swimmingly.  Seeing them together was at times mesmerizing - two insanely ambitious women who sell big dreams, execution, and want even bigger rocks (like you’ve got to be kidding me).  We discussed the poetry of city life, weddings in the South, and double shot margaritas.  Cool.  Time to move forward.  
The wind picked up a bit, still clean and crisp from Winter, but the sun was out, and sometimes that’s all you need to turn Sunday into hangover Monday.  Passing by the street fair (at which no one seems to stop), hitting Orchard and Stanton, we decided to pay Sami a visit at Thompson LES.
After finishing the last drags on a couple of lights, we were greeted by Sami and his ill fedora in the lobby.  Once he explained the background on that hat, we knew we were in store for a good afternoon.  Out on the deck, BKB hastily ordered a bottle of Veuve to get casual drinking out of the way … and then we sat down.  If you’re a friend of ours, you might remember our most recent outing there with Paula and co.  This go around held the same charm.
Against the backdrop of shadowy high rises, we watched the evening develop, enjoying good spirits and conversation with friends both old and new.  
~Nik      Originally slated for 5, we squeezed in a couple of late morning stragglers for Sunday brunch at Barrio Chino (which by the way is a must stop if you’re an egg lover).  PG got the better seat this time - a view looking onto the street.  I got the middle position uncomfortably situated between BKB (whose penchant for leg room is tactless) and him, while my plate rocked over two uneven tables.  Fine.  We were with two lovely women, very dear to all of us.  
Miss Jade Lee, what can I say?  Muse to many, wedding planner extraordinaire, lover of Jordan 3s and all things YYT, was up from Atlanta to mix business and pleasure.  Caro was also there, Alexander Wanging it and talking that ‘Frisco/LA talk.  This was their first time meeting, but not the first time hearing about each other.  They got along swimmingly.  Seeing them together was at times mesmerizing - two insanely ambitious women who sell big dreams, execution, and want even bigger rocks (like you’ve got to be kidding me).  We discussed the poetry of city life, weddings in the South, and double shot margaritas.  Cool.  Time to move forward.  
The wind picked up a bit, still clean and crisp from Winter, but the sun was out, and sometimes that’s all you need to turn Sunday into hangover Monday.  Passing by the street fair (at which no one seems to stop), hitting Orchard and Stanton, we decided to pay Sami a visit at Thompson LES.
After finishing the last drags on a couple of lights, we were greeted by Sami and his ill fedora in the lobby.  Once he explained the background on that hat, we knew we were in store for a good afternoon.  Out on the deck, BKB hastily ordered a bottle of Veuve to get casual drinking out of the way … and then we sat down.  If you’re a friend of ours, you might remember our most recent outing there with Paula and co.  This go around held the same charm.
Against the backdrop of shadowy high rises, we watched the evening develop, enjoying good spirits and conversation with friends both old and new.  
~Nik      Originally slated for 5, we squeezed in a couple of late morning stragglers for Sunday brunch at Barrio Chino (which by the way is a must stop if you’re an egg lover).  PG got the better seat this time - a view looking onto the street.  I got the middle position uncomfortably situated between BKB (whose penchant for leg room is tactless) and him, while my plate rocked over two uneven tables.  Fine.  We were with two lovely women, very dear to all of us.  
Miss Jade Lee, what can I say?  Muse to many, wedding planner extraordinaire, lover of Jordan 3s and all things YYT, was up from Atlanta to mix business and pleasure.  Caro was also there, Alexander Wanging it and talking that ‘Frisco/LA talk.  This was their first time meeting, but not the first time hearing about each other.  They got along swimmingly.  Seeing them together was at times mesmerizing - two insanely ambitious women who sell big dreams, execution, and want even bigger rocks (like you’ve got to be kidding me).  We discussed the poetry of city life, weddings in the South, and double shot margaritas.  Cool.  Time to move forward.  
The wind picked up a bit, still clean and crisp from Winter, but the sun was out, and sometimes that’s all you need to turn Sunday into hangover Monday.  Passing by the street fair (at which no one seems to stop), hitting Orchard and Stanton, we decided to pay Sami a visit at Thompson LES.
After finishing the last drags on a couple of lights, we were greeted by Sami and his ill fedora in the lobby.  Once he explained the background on that hat, we knew we were in store for a good afternoon.  Out on the deck, BKB hastily ordered a bottle of Veuve to get casual drinking out of the way … and then we sat down.  If you’re a friend of ours, you might remember our most recent outing there with Paula and co.  This go around held the same charm.
Against the backdrop of shadowy high rises, we watched the evening develop, enjoying good spirits and conversation with friends both old and new.  
~Nik      Originally slated for 5, we squeezed in a couple of late morning stragglers for Sunday brunch at Barrio Chino (which by the way is a must stop if you’re an egg lover).  PG got the better seat this time - a view looking onto the street.  I got the middle position uncomfortably situated between BKB (whose penchant for leg room is tactless) and him, while my plate rocked over two uneven tables.  Fine.  We were with two lovely women, very dear to all of us.  
Miss Jade Lee, what can I say?  Muse to many, wedding planner extraordinaire, lover of Jordan 3s and all things YYT, was up from Atlanta to mix business and pleasure.  Caro was also there, Alexander Wanging it and talking that ‘Frisco/LA talk.  This was their first time meeting, but not the first time hearing about each other.  They got along swimmingly.  Seeing them together was at times mesmerizing - two insanely ambitious women who sell big dreams, execution, and want even bigger rocks (like you’ve got to be kidding me).  We discussed the poetry of city life, weddings in the South, and double shot margaritas.  Cool.  Time to move forward.  
The wind picked up a bit, still clean and crisp from Winter, but the sun was out, and sometimes that’s all you need to turn Sunday into hangover Monday.  Passing by the street fair (at which no one seems to stop), hitting Orchard and Stanton, we decided to pay Sami a visit at Thompson LES.
After finishing the last drags on a couple of lights, we were greeted by Sami and his ill fedora in the lobby.  Once he explained the background on that hat, we knew we were in store for a good afternoon.  Out on the deck, BKB hastily ordered a bottle of Veuve to get casual drinking out of the way … and then we sat down.  If you’re a friend of ours, you might remember our most recent outing there with Paula and co.  This go around held the same charm.
Against the backdrop of shadowy high rises, we watched the evening develop, enjoying good spirits and conversation with friends both old and new.  
~Nik      Originally slated for 5, we squeezed in a couple of late morning stragglers for Sunday brunch at Barrio Chino (which by the way is a must stop if you’re an egg lover).  PG got the better seat this time - a view looking onto the street.  I got the middle position uncomfortably situated between BKB (whose penchant for leg room is tactless) and him, while my plate rocked over two uneven tables.  Fine.  We were with two lovely women, very dear to all of us.  
Miss Jade Lee, what can I say?  Muse to many, wedding planner extraordinaire, lover of Jordan 3s and all things YYT, was up from Atlanta to mix business and pleasure.  Caro was also there, Alexander Wanging it and talking that ‘Frisco/LA talk.  This was their first time meeting, but not the first time hearing about each other.  They got along swimmingly.  Seeing them together was at times mesmerizing - two insanely ambitious women who sell big dreams, execution, and want even bigger rocks (like you’ve got to be kidding me).  We discussed the poetry of city life, weddings in the South, and double shot margaritas.  Cool.  Time to move forward.  
The wind picked up a bit, still clean and crisp from Winter, but the sun was out, and sometimes that’s all you need to turn Sunday into hangover Monday.  Passing by the street fair (at which no one seems to stop), hitting Orchard and Stanton, we decided to pay Sami a visit at Thompson LES.
After finishing the last drags on a couple of lights, we were greeted by Sami and his ill fedora in the lobby.  Once he explained the background on that hat, we knew we were in store for a good afternoon.  Out on the deck, BKB hastily ordered a bottle of Veuve to get casual drinking out of the way … and then we sat down.  If you’re a friend of ours, you might remember our most recent outing there with Paula and co.  This go around held the same charm.
Against the backdrop of shadowy high rises, we watched the evening develop, enjoying good spirits and conversation with friends both old and new.  
~Nik      Originally slated for 5, we squeezed in a couple of late morning stragglers for Sunday brunch at Barrio Chino (which by the way is a must stop if you’re an egg lover).  PG got the better seat this time - a view looking onto the street.  I got the middle position uncomfortably situated between BKB (whose penchant for leg room is tactless) and him, while my plate rocked over two uneven tables.  Fine.  We were with two lovely women, very dear to all of us.  
Miss Jade Lee, what can I say?  Muse to many, wedding planner extraordinaire, lover of Jordan 3s and all things YYT, was up from Atlanta to mix business and pleasure.  Caro was also there, Alexander Wanging it and talking that ‘Frisco/LA talk.  This was their first time meeting, but not the first time hearing about each other.  They got along swimmingly.  Seeing them together was at times mesmerizing - two insanely ambitious women who sell big dreams, execution, and want even bigger rocks (like you’ve got to be kidding me).  We discussed the poetry of city life, weddings in the South, and double shot margaritas.  Cool.  Time to move forward.  
The wind picked up a bit, still clean and crisp from Winter, but the sun was out, and sometimes that’s all you need to turn Sunday into hangover Monday.  Passing by the street fair (at which no one seems to stop), hitting Orchard and Stanton, we decided to pay Sami a visit at Thompson LES.
After finishing the last drags on a couple of lights, we were greeted by Sami and his ill fedora in the lobby.  Once he explained the background on that hat, we knew we were in store for a good afternoon.  Out on the deck, BKB hastily ordered a bottle of Veuve to get casual drinking out of the way … and then we sat down.  If you’re a friend of ours, you might remember our most recent outing there with Paula and co.  This go around held the same charm.
Against the backdrop of shadowy high rises, we watched the evening develop, enjoying good spirits and conversation with friends both old and new.  
~Nik     

    Originally slated for 5, we squeezed in a couple of late morning stragglers for Sunday brunch at Barrio Chino (which by the way is a must stop if you’re an egg lover).  PG got the better seat this time - a view looking onto the street.  I got the middle position uncomfortably situated between BKB (whose penchant for leg room is tactless) and him, while my plate rocked over two uneven tables.  Fine.  We were with two lovely women, very dear to all of us.  

    Miss Jade Lee, what can I say?  Muse to many, wedding planner extraordinaire, lover of Jordan 3s and all things YYT, was up from Atlanta to mix business and pleasure.  Caro was also there, Alexander Wanging it and talking that ‘Frisco/LA talk.  This was their first time meeting, but not the first time hearing about each other.  They got along swimmingly.  Seeing them together was at times mesmerizing - two insanely ambitious women who sell big dreams, execution, and want even bigger rocks (like you’ve got to be kidding me).  We discussed the poetry of city life, weddings in the South, and double shot margaritas.  Cool.  Time to move forward.  

    The wind picked up a bit, still clean and crisp from Winter, but the sun was out, and sometimes that’s all you need to turn Sunday into hangover Monday.  Passing by the street fair (at which no one seems to stop), hitting Orchard and Stanton, we decided to pay Sami a visit at Thompson LES.

    After finishing the last drags on a couple of lights, we were greeted by Sami and his ill fedora in the lobby.  Once he explained the background on that hat, we knew we were in store for a good afternoon.  Out on the deck, BKB hastily ordered a bottle of Veuve to get casual drinking out of the way … and then we sat down.  If you’re a friend of ours, you might remember our most recent outing there with Paula and co.  This go around held the same charm.

    Against the backdrop of shadowy high rises, we watched the evening develop, enjoying good spirits and conversation with friends both old and new.  

    ~Nik     

    

It is a peculiar trait about names: they forge an identity in us early that we fight to escape, like sullen clouds hanging over our morning windowsills.   As if our given names were nothing more than idle placeholders until we discovered our existence was really something that superseded those temporary monikers.  We are and will always be our names.  Try as I may, I am not a Paul, nor am I a Brandon.  Yet most of us spend our formative years dashing around fate, either searching for others to imitate or becoming people we know we don’t want to be.  We want footsteps to follow, a comforting path.  I don’t know why - in the end, you’ll still be your name; I’ll still be mine.  And if you take my fatalistic view, you’ll have little luck escaping the attached identity.  Unless…you molded not your identity to your name, but rather, your name to your identity. 
Born in Trinidad, but raised in Brooklyn, Theophilus London II, has a name that sticks out to say the least, mixing biblical obscurity with a city known best for its high exchange rate and highbrow accent.  A quick search for the name reveals a critical element to understanding the aim of “Theophilus London” the brand (inclusive of the rapper & DJ & style maven), who at 24, has created a market for himself with just one official album release:      
“No one knows the true identity of Theophilus and there are several conjectures and traditions around an identity.”  
This is Theo in a nutshell.  An amorphous figure in music and most notably, fashion, who largely survives off of his name first, identity second.  To see him, which I have on a number of occasions both onstage and strolling the blocks of some of lower Manhattan’s best brunch spots, is to immediately assign name to style, style to music - in other words, the carefully crafted brand.  What do you do with a name like Theophilus London? Just make it the focal point.    
As he burst onto the scene with “JAM!,” his first mixtape, followed by “This Charming Mixtape,” which captured the essence of progressive rap, then “I Want You,” Theo capitalized off of the buzz unlike any new artist in recent memory.  He aligned himself with Mountain Dew and Bing.  He sat front row at Lanvin’s menswear show, after wearing the brand at Cannes.  He secured more deals with Cole Haan to co-design a shoe, Bushmills Irish Whiskey, Gucci in anticipation of his first album.  To top it off, he became the ad hoc face of Tommy Hilfiger.  Yet, you would be hard pressed to find anyone who can really explain why he has been able to position himself in this fashion.  Let me offer some thoughts.  
He’s effortlessly cool, Borsalino and all, with an organic confidence that actually makes him a more appealing figure.  His musical talents are not to be understated, even if you don’t post his lyrics on Twitter.  He’s a black rapper from the home of Biggie producing New Wave records.  Not one bit of this feels like a shtick, however.  This is a part of his identity, and now his name, Theophilus, reflects the same qualities. ~Nik




It is a peculiar trait about names: they forge an identity in us early that we fight to escape, like sullen clouds hanging over our morning windowsills.   As if our given names were nothing more than idle placeholders until we discovered our existence was really something that superseded those temporary monikers.  We are and will always be our names.  Try as I may, I am not a Paul, nor am I a Brandon.  Yet most of us spend our formative years dashing around fate, either searching for others to imitate or becoming people we know we don’t want to be.  We want footsteps to follow, a comforting path.  I don’t know why - in the end, you’ll still be your name; I’ll still be mine.  And if you take my fatalistic view, you’ll have little luck escaping the attached identity.  Unless…you molded not your identity to your name, but rather, your name to your identity. 
Born in Trinidad, but raised in Brooklyn, Theophilus London II, has a name that sticks out to say the least, mixing biblical obscurity with a city known best for its high exchange rate and highbrow accent.  A quick search for the name reveals a critical element to understanding the aim of “Theophilus London” the brand (inclusive of the rapper & DJ & style maven), who at 24, has created a market for himself with just one official album release:      
“No one knows the true identity of Theophilus and there are several conjectures and traditions around an identity.”  
This is Theo in a nutshell.  An amorphous figure in music and most notably, fashion, who largely survives off of his name first, identity second.  To see him, which I have on a number of occasions both onstage and strolling the blocks of some of lower Manhattan’s best brunch spots, is to immediately assign name to style, style to music - in other words, the carefully crafted brand.  What do you do with a name like Theophilus London? Just make it the focal point.    
As he burst onto the scene with “JAM!,” his first mixtape, followed by “This Charming Mixtape,” which captured the essence of progressive rap, then “I Want You,” Theo capitalized off of the buzz unlike any new artist in recent memory.  He aligned himself with Mountain Dew and Bing.  He sat front row at Lanvin’s menswear show, after wearing the brand at Cannes.  He secured more deals with Cole Haan to co-design a shoe, Bushmills Irish Whiskey, Gucci in anticipation of his first album.  To top it off, he became the ad hoc face of Tommy Hilfiger.  Yet, you would be hard pressed to find anyone who can really explain why he has been able to position himself in this fashion.  Let me offer some thoughts.  
He’s effortlessly cool, Borsalino and all, with an organic confidence that actually makes him a more appealing figure.  His musical talents are not to be understated, even if you don’t post his lyrics on Twitter.  He’s a black rapper from the home of Biggie producing New Wave records.  Not one bit of this feels like a shtick, however.  This is a part of his identity, and now his name, Theophilus, reflects the same qualities. ~Nik

      It is a peculiar trait about names: they forge an identity in us early that we fight to escape, like sullen clouds hanging over our morning windowsills.   As if our given names were nothing more than idle placeholders until we discovered our existence was really something that superseded those temporary monikers.  We are and will always be our names.  Try as I may, I am not a Paul, nor am I a Brandon.  Yet most of us spend our formative years dashing around fate, either searching for others to imitate or becoming people we know we don’t want to be.  We want footsteps to follow, a comforting path.  I don’t know why - in the end, you’ll still be your name; I’ll still be mine.  And if you take my fatalistic view, you’ll have little luck escaping the attached identity.  Unless…you molded not your identity to your name, but rather, your name to your identity. 

      Born in Trinidad, but raised in Brooklyn, Theophilus London II, has a name that sticks out to say the least, mixing biblical obscurity with a city known best for its high exchange rate and highbrow accent.  A quick search for the name reveals a critical element to understanding the aim of “Theophilus London” the brand (inclusive of the rapper & DJ & style maven), who at 24, has created a market for himself with just one official album release:      

      “No one knows the true identity of Theophilus and there are several conjectures and traditions around an identity.”  

      This is Theo in a nutshell.  An amorphous figure in music and most notably, fashion, who largely survives off of his name first, identity second.  To see him, which I have on a number of occasions both onstage and strolling the blocks of some of lower Manhattan’s best brunch spots, is to immediately assign name to style, style to music - in other words, the carefully crafted brand.  What do you do with a name like Theophilus London? Just make it the focal point.    

      As he burst onto the scene with “JAM!,” his first mixtape, followed by “This Charming Mixtape,” which captured the essence of progressive rap, then “I Want You,” Theo capitalized off of the buzz unlike any new artist in recent memory.  He aligned himself with Mountain Dew and Bing.  He sat front row at Lanvin’s menswear show, after wearing the brand at Cannes.  He secured more deals with Cole Haan to co-design a shoe, Bushmills Irish Whiskey, Gucci in anticipation of his first album.  To top it off, he became the ad hoc face of Tommy Hilfiger.  Yet, you would be hard pressed to find anyone who can really explain why he has been able to position himself in this fashion.  Let me offer some thoughts.  

      He’s effortlessly cool, Borsalino and all, with an organic confidence that actually makes him a more appealing figure.  His musical talents are not to be understated, even if you don’t post his lyrics on Twitter.  He’s a black rapper from the home of Biggie producing New Wave records.  Not one bit of this feels like a shtick, however.  This is a part of his identity, and now his name, Theophilus, reflects the same qualities. ~Nik

      On Monday April 23, Nik forwarded myself, Callistus, and Brandon an email about a Vice event at Hotel Chantelle that was happening the following night.  The one thing that Nik typed in the email was “RSVP please.”  Turns out Theophilus London would be DJing, so that’s what sold me on the idea.  I love to party, but I love to work.  I felt like this would make for some crucial Curator related material.
The plan for Tuesday was to make it out to the Vice Party, and then stop by Beauty & Essex to show love to Kasey who was celebrating her birthday.  At the Vice event, I saw/met Ren at the bar, and approached her about taking some pictures.  I am and was drawn to her look: tattoos, red hair, piercings, steez; they’re all attractive qualities.  I liked her shape.  I liked her eyes.  Anyways… Pictures were taken.  Jameson shots followed.  A cool moment was had.
Back to the mission, capture some pictures of Theophilus.  In short, mission accomplished.  (We will be posting a feature, written by Nik, on Theophilus London later this week).
Next stop was Beauty & Essex, where Talib Kweli was spinning.  We wished Kasey a Happy Birthday, then stuck around to have some drinks and do some other things.  Shortly before exiting, Callistus met Bernsy Luv and MissGracieC of lovemesome.co.uk.  We ended up chillin with them at the apartment, and had a wonderful time exchanging thoughts and ideas about our respective ventures.  (You’ll get to see and hear more about Bernsy Luv and MissGracie later on this week as well).
It was a good Tuesday. ~PG On Monday April 23, Nik forwarded myself, Callistus, and Brandon an email about a Vice event at Hotel Chantelle that was happening the following night.  The one thing that Nik typed in the email was “RSVP please.”  Turns out Theophilus London would be DJing, so that’s what sold me on the idea.  I love to party, but I love to work.  I felt like this would make for some crucial Curator related material.
The plan for Tuesday was to make it out to the Vice Party, and then stop by Beauty & Essex to show love to Kasey who was celebrating her birthday.  At the Vice event, I saw/met Ren at the bar, and approached her about taking some pictures.  I am and was drawn to her look: tattoos, red hair, piercings, steez; they’re all attractive qualities.  I liked her shape.  I liked her eyes.  Anyways… Pictures were taken.  Jameson shots followed.  A cool moment was had.
Back to the mission, capture some pictures of Theophilus.  In short, mission accomplished.  (We will be posting a feature, written by Nik, on Theophilus London later this week).
Next stop was Beauty & Essex, where Talib Kweli was spinning.  We wished Kasey a Happy Birthday, then stuck around to have some drinks and do some other things.  Shortly before exiting, Callistus met Bernsy Luv and MissGracieC of lovemesome.co.uk.  We ended up chillin with them at the apartment, and had a wonderful time exchanging thoughts and ideas about our respective ventures.  (You’ll get to see and hear more about Bernsy Luv and MissGracie later on this week as well).
It was a good Tuesday. ~PG On Monday April 23, Nik forwarded myself, Callistus, and Brandon an email about a Vice event at Hotel Chantelle that was happening the following night.  The one thing that Nik typed in the email was “RSVP please.”  Turns out Theophilus London would be DJing, so that’s what sold me on the idea.  I love to party, but I love to work.  I felt like this would make for some crucial Curator related material.
The plan for Tuesday was to make it out to the Vice Party, and then stop by Beauty & Essex to show love to Kasey who was celebrating her birthday.  At the Vice event, I saw/met Ren at the bar, and approached her about taking some pictures.  I am and was drawn to her look: tattoos, red hair, piercings, steez; they’re all attractive qualities.  I liked her shape.  I liked her eyes.  Anyways… Pictures were taken.  Jameson shots followed.  A cool moment was had.
Back to the mission, capture some pictures of Theophilus.  In short, mission accomplished.  (We will be posting a feature, written by Nik, on Theophilus London later this week).
Next stop was Beauty & Essex, where Talib Kweli was spinning.  We wished Kasey a Happy Birthday, then stuck around to have some drinks and do some other things.  Shortly before exiting, Callistus met Bernsy Luv and MissGracieC of lovemesome.co.uk.  We ended up chillin with them at the apartment, and had a wonderful time exchanging thoughts and ideas about our respective ventures.  (You’ll get to see and hear more about Bernsy Luv and MissGracie later on this week as well).
It was a good Tuesday. ~PG On Monday April 23, Nik forwarded myself, Callistus, and Brandon an email about a Vice event at Hotel Chantelle that was happening the following night.  The one thing that Nik typed in the email was “RSVP please.”  Turns out Theophilus London would be DJing, so that’s what sold me on the idea.  I love to party, but I love to work.  I felt like this would make for some crucial Curator related material.
The plan for Tuesday was to make it out to the Vice Party, and then stop by Beauty & Essex to show love to Kasey who was celebrating her birthday.  At the Vice event, I saw/met Ren at the bar, and approached her about taking some pictures.  I am and was drawn to her look: tattoos, red hair, piercings, steez; they’re all attractive qualities.  I liked her shape.  I liked her eyes.  Anyways… Pictures were taken.  Jameson shots followed.  A cool moment was had.
Back to the mission, capture some pictures of Theophilus.  In short, mission accomplished.  (We will be posting a feature, written by Nik, on Theophilus London later this week).
Next stop was Beauty & Essex, where Talib Kweli was spinning.  We wished Kasey a Happy Birthday, then stuck around to have some drinks and do some other things.  Shortly before exiting, Callistus met Bernsy Luv and MissGracieC of lovemesome.co.uk.  We ended up chillin with them at the apartment, and had a wonderful time exchanging thoughts and ideas about our respective ventures.  (You’ll get to see and hear more about Bernsy Luv and MissGracie later on this week as well).
It was a good Tuesday. ~PG On Monday April 23, Nik forwarded myself, Callistus, and Brandon an email about a Vice event at Hotel Chantelle that was happening the following night.  The one thing that Nik typed in the email was “RSVP please.”  Turns out Theophilus London would be DJing, so that’s what sold me on the idea.  I love to party, but I love to work.  I felt like this would make for some crucial Curator related material.
The plan for Tuesday was to make it out to the Vice Party, and then stop by Beauty & Essex to show love to Kasey who was celebrating her birthday.  At the Vice event, I saw/met Ren at the bar, and approached her about taking some pictures.  I am and was drawn to her look: tattoos, red hair, piercings, steez; they’re all attractive qualities.  I liked her shape.  I liked her eyes.  Anyways… Pictures were taken.  Jameson shots followed.  A cool moment was had.
Back to the mission, capture some pictures of Theophilus.  In short, mission accomplished.  (We will be posting a feature, written by Nik, on Theophilus London later this week).
Next stop was Beauty & Essex, where Talib Kweli was spinning.  We wished Kasey a Happy Birthday, then stuck around to have some drinks and do some other things.  Shortly before exiting, Callistus met Bernsy Luv and MissGracieC of lovemesome.co.uk.  We ended up chillin with them at the apartment, and had a wonderful time exchanging thoughts and ideas about our respective ventures.  (You’ll get to see and hear more about Bernsy Luv and MissGracie later on this week as well).
It was a good Tuesday. ~PG On Monday April 23, Nik forwarded myself, Callistus, and Brandon an email about a Vice event at Hotel Chantelle that was happening the following night.  The one thing that Nik typed in the email was “RSVP please.”  Turns out Theophilus London would be DJing, so that’s what sold me on the idea.  I love to party, but I love to work.  I felt like this would make for some crucial Curator related material.
The plan for Tuesday was to make it out to the Vice Party, and then stop by Beauty & Essex to show love to Kasey who was celebrating her birthday.  At the Vice event, I saw/met Ren at the bar, and approached her about taking some pictures.  I am and was drawn to her look: tattoos, red hair, piercings, steez; they’re all attractive qualities.  I liked her shape.  I liked her eyes.  Anyways… Pictures were taken.  Jameson shots followed.  A cool moment was had.
Back to the mission, capture some pictures of Theophilus.  In short, mission accomplished.  (We will be posting a feature, written by Nik, on Theophilus London later this week).
Next stop was Beauty & Essex, where Talib Kweli was spinning.  We wished Kasey a Happy Birthday, then stuck around to have some drinks and do some other things.  Shortly before exiting, Callistus met Bernsy Luv and MissGracieC of lovemesome.co.uk.  We ended up chillin with them at the apartment, and had a wonderful time exchanging thoughts and ideas about our respective ventures.  (You’ll get to see and hear more about Bernsy Luv and MissGracie later on this week as well).
It was a good Tuesday. ~PG On Monday April 23, Nik forwarded myself, Callistus, and Brandon an email about a Vice event at Hotel Chantelle that was happening the following night.  The one thing that Nik typed in the email was “RSVP please.”  Turns out Theophilus London would be DJing, so that’s what sold me on the idea.  I love to party, but I love to work.  I felt like this would make for some crucial Curator related material.
The plan for Tuesday was to make it out to the Vice Party, and then stop by Beauty & Essex to show love to Kasey who was celebrating her birthday.  At the Vice event, I saw/met Ren at the bar, and approached her about taking some pictures.  I am and was drawn to her look: tattoos, red hair, piercings, steez; they’re all attractive qualities.  I liked her shape.  I liked her eyes.  Anyways… Pictures were taken.  Jameson shots followed.  A cool moment was had.
Back to the mission, capture some pictures of Theophilus.  In short, mission accomplished.  (We will be posting a feature, written by Nik, on Theophilus London later this week).
Next stop was Beauty & Essex, where Talib Kweli was spinning.  We wished Kasey a Happy Birthday, then stuck around to have some drinks and do some other things.  Shortly before exiting, Callistus met Bernsy Luv and MissGracieC of lovemesome.co.uk.  We ended up chillin with them at the apartment, and had a wonderful time exchanging thoughts and ideas about our respective ventures.  (You’ll get to see and hear more about Bernsy Luv and MissGracie later on this week as well).
It was a good Tuesday. ~PG On Monday April 23, Nik forwarded myself, Callistus, and Brandon an email about a Vice event at Hotel Chantelle that was happening the following night.  The one thing that Nik typed in the email was “RSVP please.”  Turns out Theophilus London would be DJing, so that’s what sold me on the idea.  I love to party, but I love to work.  I felt like this would make for some crucial Curator related material.
The plan for Tuesday was to make it out to the Vice Party, and then stop by Beauty & Essex to show love to Kasey who was celebrating her birthday.  At the Vice event, I saw/met Ren at the bar, and approached her about taking some pictures.  I am and was drawn to her look: tattoos, red hair, piercings, steez; they’re all attractive qualities.  I liked her shape.  I liked her eyes.  Anyways… Pictures were taken.  Jameson shots followed.  A cool moment was had.
Back to the mission, capture some pictures of Theophilus.  In short, mission accomplished.  (We will be posting a feature, written by Nik, on Theophilus London later this week).
Next stop was Beauty & Essex, where Talib Kweli was spinning.  We wished Kasey a Happy Birthday, then stuck around to have some drinks and do some other things.  Shortly before exiting, Callistus met Bernsy Luv and MissGracieC of lovemesome.co.uk.  We ended up chillin with them at the apartment, and had a wonderful time exchanging thoughts and ideas about our respective ventures.  (You’ll get to see and hear more about Bernsy Luv and MissGracie later on this week as well).
It was a good Tuesday. ~PG On Monday April 23, Nik forwarded myself, Callistus, and Brandon an email about a Vice event at Hotel Chantelle that was happening the following night.  The one thing that Nik typed in the email was “RSVP please.”  Turns out Theophilus London would be DJing, so that’s what sold me on the idea.  I love to party, but I love to work.  I felt like this would make for some crucial Curator related material.
The plan for Tuesday was to make it out to the Vice Party, and then stop by Beauty & Essex to show love to Kasey who was celebrating her birthday.  At the Vice event, I saw/met Ren at the bar, and approached her about taking some pictures.  I am and was drawn to her look: tattoos, red hair, piercings, steez; they’re all attractive qualities.  I liked her shape.  I liked her eyes.  Anyways… Pictures were taken.  Jameson shots followed.  A cool moment was had.
Back to the mission, capture some pictures of Theophilus.  In short, mission accomplished.  (We will be posting a feature, written by Nik, on Theophilus London later this week).
Next stop was Beauty & Essex, where Talib Kweli was spinning.  We wished Kasey a Happy Birthday, then stuck around to have some drinks and do some other things.  Shortly before exiting, Callistus met Bernsy Luv and MissGracieC of lovemesome.co.uk.  We ended up chillin with them at the apartment, and had a wonderful time exchanging thoughts and ideas about our respective ventures.  (You’ll get to see and hear more about Bernsy Luv and MissGracie later on this week as well).
It was a good Tuesday. ~PG On Monday April 23, Nik forwarded myself, Callistus, and Brandon an email about a Vice event at Hotel Chantelle that was happening the following night.  The one thing that Nik typed in the email was “RSVP please.”  Turns out Theophilus London would be DJing, so that’s what sold me on the idea.  I love to party, but I love to work.  I felt like this would make for some crucial Curator related material.
The plan for Tuesday was to make it out to the Vice Party, and then stop by Beauty & Essex to show love to Kasey who was celebrating her birthday.  At the Vice event, I saw/met Ren at the bar, and approached her about taking some pictures.  I am and was drawn to her look: tattoos, red hair, piercings, steez; they’re all attractive qualities.  I liked her shape.  I liked her eyes.  Anyways… Pictures were taken.  Jameson shots followed.  A cool moment was had.
Back to the mission, capture some pictures of Theophilus.  In short, mission accomplished.  (We will be posting a feature, written by Nik, on Theophilus London later this week).
Next stop was Beauty & Essex, where Talib Kweli was spinning.  We wished Kasey a Happy Birthday, then stuck around to have some drinks and do some other things.  Shortly before exiting, Callistus met Bernsy Luv and MissGracieC of lovemesome.co.uk.  We ended up chillin with them at the apartment, and had a wonderful time exchanging thoughts and ideas about our respective ventures.  (You’ll get to see and hear more about Bernsy Luv and MissGracie later on this week as well).
It was a good Tuesday. ~PG

        On Monday April 23, Nik forwarded myself, Callistus, and Brandon an email about a Vice event at Hotel Chantelle that was happening the following night.  The one thing that Nik typed in the email was “RSVP please.”  Turns out Theophilus London would be DJing, so that’s what sold me on the idea.  I love to party, but I love to work.  I felt like this would make for some crucial Curator related material.

        The plan for Tuesday was to make it out to the Vice Party, and then stop by Beauty & Essex to show love to Kasey who was celebrating her birthday.  At the Vice event, I saw/met Ren at the bar, and approached her about taking some pictures.  I am and was drawn to her look: tattoos, red hair, piercings, steez; they’re all attractive qualities.  I liked her shape.  I liked her eyes.  Anyways… Pictures were taken.  Jameson shots followed.  A cool moment was had.

        Back to the mission, capture some pictures of Theophilus.  In short, mission accomplished.  (We will be posting a feature, written by Nik, on Theophilus London later this week).

        Next stop was Beauty & Essex, where Talib Kweli was spinning.  We wished Kasey a Happy Birthday, then stuck around to have some drinks and do some other things.  Shortly before exiting, Callistus met Bernsy Luv and MissGracieC of lovemesome.co.uk.  We ended up chillin with them at the apartment, and had a wonderful time exchanging thoughts and ideas about our respective ventures.  (You’ll get to see and hear more about Bernsy Luv and MissGracie later on this week as well).

        It was a good Tuesday. ~PG

        Lately niggas been fakin’ …

        There are moments in music, when an artist of limited recognition senses the dark shade of oblivion approaching.  Much sooner than his friends, who are otherwise occupied with their own grind … much sooner than his family, who continually keeps his spirits high with encouraging idioms.  But what do you do when stone ambivalence gripping their upwardly curled lips belies their messages of hope?  What can you do but confront these truths with deep swallows of fear and quiet gravitas?  Give up, or defy the boundaries others have confined you to.  

        That may sound excessive - egregious even - though it’s not without basis.  Although just 18,Canadian Tory Lanez, has released 6 mixtapes, and is dropping his next mixtape, “Sincerely, Tory” this year.  But let’s be clear: this is less about Tory and more about what his song “Remembrance Day” represents.  We won’t touch on the fact he sounds like some blend of Lloyd, Drake and Mike Posner.  We won’t pontificate condescendingly about the emerging group of singer-rappers, Kirko Bangz included. No we won’t, because whether you think that discredits his music, it does not belittle the undeniably raw emotion ricocheting off of this smoldering Tokyo Monster production.  It’s a spectacularly personal call-to-arms song, an artist spitting like he’s on the verge of something big yet equally indiscernible.  We know what he wants, but we don’t know what he will be.  Tory forces us to root for him, however, as an up-and-comer motivated only by changing the feelings of ambivalence surrounding him.  

        What makes this song so endearing is that it doesn’t feel like one which he set out to make, but rather, one he had to.  This is art therapy in its purest form, a track made by the artist for the artist.  We are just here to listen.  It releases the same mixture of vulnerability and bravado we heard in Kanye’s “Thru the Wire,” Drake’s “Say What’s Real,” Cudi’s “The Prayer”.  We appreciate them, because those songs hold nothing back; and in turn, they instill some semblance of confidence in ourselves, telling us that if we stick to the passion, it will happen.

        And when it does … Haters, I’ll remember all y’all~Nik

        Thanks to http://dvrnel.tumblr.com/ for introducing us.

        Kendrick Lamar feat. Dr. Dre

        Kendrick Lamar feat. Dr. Dre - “The Recipe.mp3

        I know, I know, another LA post (Kendrick nonetheless), but I will not apologize.  When you’re hot, you’re hot.  Still don’t believe me?  Hear me out on this one though.  

        Try packaging a mid-summer breeze sifting through your outstretched fingers, a passenger seat position in a used cabriolet, an open lane to coast on Pico Blvd, a couple of bad ones in the back, and a sticky O.  That’s “The Recipe” for the consummate LA afternoon.  Or at least that’s what we are led to believe on this Scoop DeVille-produced track with Kendrick Lamar and Dr. Dre (righteous).  And you know what, that’s what this song feels like.  Well done.

        If you have ever spent July-August in the ‘burbs, driving around town looking for the next impromptu pool party/cookout to crack open a can of Natty Light, this song should bring back memories.  It’s the lead single to Kendrick’s debut album (no title yet), and I’d say it’s right on time.  It’s not so much a get-the-party-started song as it is a get-the-day-started kind of song.  Open the blinds, grab a fresh shower, throw on some Retro Super Future Sunglasses if you’re feeling fly, an LA fitted and ride. ~Nik      

        There are a lot of things that Jay Leno buys: current and vintage million dollar cars, Halloween masks of himself, Conan O’Brien’s soul, and jetpack squirrel suits, among other exotic trinkets.  A pretty extensive and expensive list to say the least (the value of Conan’s Harvard soul having already increased since hopping a straight path to television perdition…TBS), but one you might expect from a talk show titan, whose indelible chin I don’t need to describe for you to know who he is.  We all know who Jay Leno is - that husky white guy with a voice that sounds like he’s slapping small puddles.  What we don’t really know, however, is who Terrace Martin is, and that’s a shame.  Because you ought to at least have a smattering of knowledge about a black prodigy from LA who received his first professional saxophone (King Super 20 Silver Sonic 1967) and a scholarship to CalArts from none other than…Jay Leno.

        I came across Terrace at the tail-end of Kendrick Lamar’s classic mixtape, “Section.80,” on “Ab-Souls Outro.”  As Kendrick implored ‘fuck ‘em up, Terrace,’ I basically asked myself, “who … the fuck … is this?”.  Obliging, Terrace rips into an unanticipated sax solo, his notes reclaiming hints of nostalgic 90s television theme songs, bringing an energy to the track that feels like smoky syrup being drizzled over an easy kick.  Think the sax at the end of the theme for “Living Single” or the “Cosby Show” - really classic stuff.  

        My relationship with Terrace is still in its infancy, but based off of the songs I’ve heard so far, and his track history, he’ll be a staple in hip-hop and other genres for years to come, particularly as a producer.  Talent like this doesn’t often successfully make the transition from prep to the pros, but this former kid prodigy, who has already toured with the likes of Diddy and God’s Property (remember Kirk?) is at the forefront of the resurgence of jazz-influenced hip-hop. ~Nik 

        Terrace Martin  

        Tracks to listen to and love:

        -See above

        -Kendrick Lamar feat. Ab-Soul - “Ab-Souls Outro”

        -Terrace Martin feat. Kendrick and Wiz - “Do It Again”

        Sillier things have happened, right?  Lil’ Wayne put a much publicized down payment on a fancy guitar but has yet to see the return on his investment.  Kid Rock inked his name in rap, but (wisely) switched to crooning songs with Sheryl Crow.  Yeezy pushed his creative angst to the max, producing a middling composition part- Bon-Iver, part-80s melancholy, part-ironic precursor to his collaboration with Jay-Z, “D.O.A.”.  Yet, in each instance, revisionist opinion largely ridiculed the artist’s work.  And that’s the way it typically goes.  Critics will say that Kid Rock should not have rapped, period.  That Lil’ Wayne should have stuck to mixtapes replete with punchlines, instead of setting up promo shoots with a guitar slung over his left shoulder.  That Yeezy most definitely should not have aired his struggles on an experimental album while still grappling with the death of Donda and the success of “Stronger”. 
But in the moment, we were all fans to an extent.  These were refreshing pieces, whether you heard them as a dissonant racket of noise or an ingenious attempt to break through a monotonous song list on (insert favorite rap station in respective area code; I like 103 Jamz).  We all took notice, and for that they should be commended.  ”WZRD,” however, is a different beast entirely.  The eponymous joint effort between Kid Cudi and his longtime friend/producer, Dot da Genius, is a large kale juice after 5 years of high-caloric, brain numbing snap and dance tunes.  It’s a work that’s important to our generation’s new wave of artists (not just in hip-hop) because it dares to do something different, does it successfully, and still retains a large margin of promise for future efforts.  ”WZRD” is what N.E.R.D.’s second album wanted to be, but a side-by-side relative analysis shows it was just a poor man’s Pawtucket (no, that’s not good).
Without question, Kid Cudi was blessed with the gift of melody, which he explores with unrestrained enthusiasm on this record.  He doesn’t shy away from delivering hooks that circle in your head like McKinsey brain teasers.  Nope.  Instead, through a curse-free 47 minutes, Cudi rocks like some of your most memorable RHCP and Green Day songs.  Carefully re-read that last sentence, but don’t read too much into it.  Against a backdrop of surprisingly respectable guitar riffs (he recently picked up the instrument) and his usual haunting intergalactic beats, Cudi, along with the creative narration of Dot da Genius, gifts a work that’s as perfectly appropriate for pregaming as much as it is for dipping between shadows on a sunny day walk in New York.  
That versatility is a part of the album’s charm.  It’s chock full of lovable songs that range from menacing synth patterns to country-infused heartbreak.  Yet thankfully, none of it seems contrived.  Based simply off of his personality, the character Scott Mescudi, whom we came to believe is really like Domingo to his closest friends, was born to make this type of music.  For real.  For fucking real. 
To be fair, Cudi and Dot are still figuring out how to create a complete work, one that isn’t just a bunch of good, catchy songs, but rather, evokes a level of artistic soul.  The good thing is, they can get there.  We’re already familiar with Cudi’s songwriting with ‘Ye and on his two previous albums, but I think rock is much more suited to his capabilities.  On “WZRD”, he doesn’t have to shell out twice the lyrics to convey half the thought.  Here, Cudi can focus, captivate us with a melody and convert us with a hook.  In time, he’ll add the sustenance we’ve been fed in the past. ~Nik 
Tracks to listen to and love:     
“Love Hard”
“Teleport 2 Me”
“Where Did You Sleep Last Night?”
“Live & Learn” Sillier things have happened, right?  Lil’ Wayne put a much publicized down payment on a fancy guitar but has yet to see the return on his investment.  Kid Rock inked his name in rap, but (wisely) switched to crooning songs with Sheryl Crow.  Yeezy pushed his creative angst to the max, producing a middling composition part- Bon-Iver, part-80s melancholy, part-ironic precursor to his collaboration with Jay-Z, “D.O.A.”.  Yet, in each instance, revisionist opinion largely ridiculed the artist’s work.  And that’s the way it typically goes.  Critics will say that Kid Rock should not have rapped, period.  That Lil’ Wayne should have stuck to mixtapes replete with punchlines, instead of setting up promo shoots with a guitar slung over his left shoulder.  That Yeezy most definitely should not have aired his struggles on an experimental album while still grappling with the death of Donda and the success of “Stronger”. 
But in the moment, we were all fans to an extent.  These were refreshing pieces, whether you heard them as a dissonant racket of noise or an ingenious attempt to break through a monotonous song list on (insert favorite rap station in respective area code; I like 103 Jamz).  We all took notice, and for that they should be commended.  ”WZRD,” however, is a different beast entirely.  The eponymous joint effort between Kid Cudi and his longtime friend/producer, Dot da Genius, is a large kale juice after 5 years of high-caloric, brain numbing snap and dance tunes.  It’s a work that’s important to our generation’s new wave of artists (not just in hip-hop) because it dares to do something different, does it successfully, and still retains a large margin of promise for future efforts.  ”WZRD” is what N.E.R.D.’s second album wanted to be, but a side-by-side relative analysis shows it was just a poor man’s Pawtucket (no, that’s not good).
Without question, Kid Cudi was blessed with the gift of melody, which he explores with unrestrained enthusiasm on this record.  He doesn’t shy away from delivering hooks that circle in your head like McKinsey brain teasers.  Nope.  Instead, through a curse-free 47 minutes, Cudi rocks like some of your most memorable RHCP and Green Day songs.  Carefully re-read that last sentence, but don’t read too much into it.  Against a backdrop of surprisingly respectable guitar riffs (he recently picked up the instrument) and his usual haunting intergalactic beats, Cudi, along with the creative narration of Dot da Genius, gifts a work that’s as perfectly appropriate for pregaming as much as it is for dipping between shadows on a sunny day walk in New York.  
That versatility is a part of the album’s charm.  It’s chock full of lovable songs that range from menacing synth patterns to country-infused heartbreak.  Yet thankfully, none of it seems contrived.  Based simply off of his personality, the character Scott Mescudi, whom we came to believe is really like Domingo to his closest friends, was born to make this type of music.  For real.  For fucking real. 
To be fair, Cudi and Dot are still figuring out how to create a complete work, one that isn’t just a bunch of good, catchy songs, but rather, evokes a level of artistic soul.  The good thing is, they can get there.  We’re already familiar with Cudi’s songwriting with ‘Ye and on his two previous albums, but I think rock is much more suited to his capabilities.  On “WZRD”, he doesn’t have to shell out twice the lyrics to convey half the thought.  Here, Cudi can focus, captivate us with a melody and convert us with a hook.  In time, he’ll add the sustenance we’ve been fed in the past. ~Nik 
Tracks to listen to and love:     
“Love Hard”
“Teleport 2 Me”
“Where Did You Sleep Last Night?”
“Live & Learn”

          Sillier things have happened, right?  Lil’ Wayne put a much publicized down payment on a fancy guitar but has yet to see the return on his investment.  Kid Rock inked his name in rap, but (wisely) switched to crooning songs with Sheryl Crow.  Yeezy pushed his creative angst to the max, producing a middling composition part- Bon-Iver, part-80s melancholy, part-ironic precursor to his collaboration with Jay-Z, “D.O.A.”.  Yet, in each instance, revisionist opinion largely ridiculed the artist’s work.  And that’s the way it typically goes.  Critics will say that Kid Rock should not have rapped, period.  That Lil’ Wayne should have stuck to mixtapes replete with punchlines, instead of setting up promo shoots with a guitar slung over his left shoulder.  That Yeezy most definitely should not have aired his struggles on an experimental album while still grappling with the death of Donda and the success of “Stronger”. 

          But in the moment, we were all fans to an extent.  These were refreshing pieces, whether you heard them as a dissonant racket of noise or an ingenious attempt to break through a monotonous song list on (insert favorite rap station in respective area code; I like 103 Jamz).  We all took notice, and for that they should be commended.  ”WZRD,” however, is a different beast entirely.  The eponymous joint effort between Kid Cudi and his longtime friend/producer, Dot da Genius, is a large kale juice after 5 years of high-caloric, brain numbing snap and dance tunes.  It’s a work that’s important to our generation’s new wave of artists (not just in hip-hop) because it dares to do something different, does it successfully, and still retains a large margin of promise for future efforts.  ”WZRD” is what N.E.R.D.’s second album wanted to be, but a side-by-side relative analysis shows it was just a poor man’s Pawtucket (no, that’s not good).

          Without question, Kid Cudi was blessed with the gift of melody, which he explores with unrestrained enthusiasm on this record.  He doesn’t shy away from delivering hooks that circle in your head like McKinsey brain teasers.  Nope.  Instead, through a curse-free 47 minutes, Cudi rocks like some of your most memorable RHCP and Green Day songs.  Carefully re-read that last sentence, but don’t read too much into it.  Against a backdrop of surprisingly respectable guitar riffs (he recently picked up the instrument) and his usual haunting intergalactic beats, Cudi, along with the creative narration of Dot da Genius, gifts a work that’s as perfectly appropriate for pregaming as much as it is for dipping between shadows on a sunny day walk in New York.  

          That versatility is a part of the album’s charm.  It’s chock full of lovable songs that range from menacing synth patterns to country-infused heartbreak.  Yet thankfully, none of it seems contrived.  Based simply off of his personality, the character Scott Mescudi, whom we came to believe is really like Domingo to his closest friends, was born to make this type of music.  For real.  For fucking real. 

          To be fair, Cudi and Dot are still figuring out how to create a complete work, one that isn’t just a bunch of good, catchy songs, but rather, evokes a level of artistic soul.  The good thing is, they can get there.  We’re already familiar with Cudi’s songwriting with ‘Ye and on his two previous albums, but I think rock is much more suited to his capabilities.  On “WZRD”, he doesn’t have to shell out twice the lyrics to convey half the thought.  Here, Cudi can focus, captivate us with a melody and convert us with a hook.  In time, he’ll add the sustenance we’ve been fed in the past. ~Nik 

          Tracks to listen to and love:     

          “Love Hard”

          “Teleport 2 Me”

          “Where Did You Sleep Last Night?”

          “Live & Learn”