Rating:
  Release Date: February 21, 2006
  Website: Random Website
  Label: RAHM Nation Recordings

Random “The Call” Album Review
Man, the underground never ceases to amaze me. I’ve been struggling to find albums to write about lately. Over the past two weeks, I’ve checked out five new and pretty major hip-hop albums, which cost me over seventy dollars total, yet none inspired me to think, do research, or write about anything. And that sucks.  

I mean, writing is therapeutic for me … or at least, listening to hip-hop and being driven to analyze it, and myself in the process, is therapeutic to me. If there’s nothing new to write about, all that means to me is that hip-hop is doing nothing new. And for me, that’s not a good thing.

Ironically, the one album sent to me for free in the mail was worth more than all the others combined. Man, the underground never ceases to amaze me. Random’s “The Call” did contain many characteristics of albums I’ve reviewed over the past couple months. It was a feel good album, the importance of which I contemplated in the Aceyalone review. It was also a positive and motivational album, similar to what I felt about the Visual review. But “The Call” offered much more, at least for me …

Hip-Hop and the History of Art
Last week, I was skimming through an old college textbook on the history of art. I came across a section that discussed the evolution of the painter’s canvas, which is actually some pretty interesting stuff. Do you know that, along with obvious innovations in style, theme and manner of painting, one of the biggest factors that have changed the landscape of the art of paint over the centuries has been the evolution of the canvas?

Early canvases were made of linen, chosen primarily for its strength. In the early 20th century, however, the cotton canvas came into use. Although less favored than the traditional linen by upscale and professional artists, cotton made an indelible impression upon the art of painting because it was much less expensive. This price difference allowed many beginners, especially those of more modest backgrounds, to experiment with painting, which helped to contribute to some of the most important and influential art of human existence.

From there, modernist painters created other significant evolutions. One of the greatest differences between new and old-school painting techniques is the preparation of the canvas texture itself. Modern artists often spend months layering raw canvas, polishing and repeating until they create a textured canvas suitable for their intended paintings. These changes again added to the evolution of painting, and have helped to create outstanding advancements in the quality of the art form.

Artistic Innovation in Hip-Hop
Now the reason I speak of the history of the canvas is because it is a perfect example of how an art form can continue to improve and prosper through innovation. When you look at it, the history of art is actually quite similar to the history of hip-hop. As with the creation of the cotton canvas, the creation of turntablism and hip-hop production allowed kids who couldn’t afford guitars, pianos or drums to create music. As with the changes in textured canvases, advancements in common recording techniques have allowed artists to experiment with different sounds, feelings and flavors to create their music. This has all allowed hip-hop to continue to advance to worldwide significance in just the thirty-plus years of its existence.

I honestly believe that Random’s “The Call” represents another brilliant innovation in the world of hip-hop. The production on this album is unlike anything I’ve ever heard. It is a unique and a refreshing change from popular hip-hop’s current direction, and it is one of very few albums that has successfully put together such a wide range of producers while still maintaining continuity. The album uses a combination of seemingly hundreds of acoustic instruments and jazzy melodic sounds to make its beats. The lyrical content is, for lack of better terminology, super dope, and sticks with the current trend of underground artists talking about real life and heartfelt subjects that matter to the common man. And Random’s flow is experimental, ranging from slow and contemplative to quick and fun, showing off a broad verbal skill almost never seem in popular or mainstream hip-hop.

Random’s “The Call” is, without a doubt, crazy spectacular. Arguably among the best independent releases I have ever heard. The album moves in book-like unison, as if each track was placed purposely to tell a story or create a changing set of emotions and feelings. It hasn’t left my CD player for two weeks now, and I don’t see it going anywhere anytime soon. If this album is representative of the quality of the up and coming RAHM Nation Recordings, the underground just might have a new set of representatives. Although pretty much every verse in this album is quotable, I ain’t got that kind of time, so I listed a few of my favorite lyrics below. Check ‘em. PEACE.

Please support innovation in hip-hop by picking up “The Call” by Random. You can learn more about this amazing lyricist and producer at the Random website, or visit RAHM Nation Recordings online.

Introduction
Physically, spiritually, mentally, emotionally
Free is what I hope to be one day
Free from the mediocrity and the gun play
Free from the ignorance seeking deliverance
Free from afflictions that got my people sickened
Free from the fiction that everybody kicking
Cause I was called to the forefront of my forefathers
Who forfeited their rights to the crown for me
But they’d be proud to see I never fabricated or exaggerated
Only facts have be found with me
My goal is preserving the art form’s integrity
Never letting the fallacy and lies get to me

The Opening Movement
Got the hunger in here when I wrote my first rap
The whole game took a head long dirt nap
MTV showing love to the worst cats
The hazardous MC who preaches what he practices
Bringing hip-hop from the dead like Lazarus
Rappers is actors, don’t let them tell you otherwise
The revolution will not be televised

Raze the Bar
Get ‘em up, lift ‘em up, raze ‘em up
Let’s get involved ya’ll
Cause I ain’t here for the fancy cars
I just came here to raze the bar

Physically drained from getting in the game
Cause I’d rather make a change than to get in some change
And can’t nobody spit it the same
Talk about peace you considered a lame . why’s that, ah?
Stop begging for the industry to let us in
Stop letting them dilute my medicine
They call me crazy cause I heard nothing lately
That will make me relate to these fake Gs
Ya’ll wanna impress me, then get a subject
How come Biggie been gone eight years without a suspect?
Quoting their records like you love ‘em so much
I stand on my own two, I never needed no crutch
And so what if my joint don’t blow up
This a man’s game and ya’ll need to grow up
Be a leader, stop following trends and set ‘em
And if they ask you to change then forget ‘em

I pray to God just to see another day of life
And I survive no matter how great the odds
Taking charge cause it’s a new year
And my resolution is a revolution
And right now in sense of what I right down
BET don’t reflect my lifestyle
Your democracy is nothing but hypocrisy
Need to revise your philosophy
I gotta see better days, cause you know the game is cold
The devil giving out Bentleys in exchange for souls

I’m sick of thugs, tired of pimps and playas
Sick of Evisu jeans, sick of Tims and Gators
Sick of singles with R&B chicks
I’m tired of every hot rapper on your remix
I’m sick of everybody talking about they pack heat
I’m tired of rappers coming off sweet over wack beats
Sick of the same producers on everybody’s record
Tired of black women getting disrespected
I’m sick of the radio for playing the same songs
Ten minutes later, “Damn that just came on”
Tired of kids that can’t comprehend
But know 50 Cent from beginning to end
Sick of filling out these applications
Sick of going to more funerals than graduations
And I’m sick of people who can’t get inspired
And I’m sick and tired of being sick and tired

Still Ain’t Good Enough
I never been afraid of the beast
Never was thug, wasn’t raised by the streets
Never seen the back seat of a police cruiser accused of blazing the heat
They say teachers can’t teach us, and the preachers can’t reach us
Start impeaching our leaders, now I’m seen as elitist
And them leaches from FEMA keeping them secrets between ‘em
Keep the forty acres man, all that we seeking is freedom
You want peace and you dreaming, sick of people deceiving
Bush said “mission accomplished” two years ago and we believed him
Why we still in Iraq getting killed in attacks?
When I turn on the news its more soldiers we loose
And I ain’t mad about Kanye comments
I’m more mad they call Kanye conscious
And just remember everything that shine ain’t spotless
And most cats that talk is only out here trying to line their pockets
So put your papers up, ain’t nobody saving us
Good enough ain’t enough, now its time to raise it up

Walk through the million dollar metal detectors
Then I listen to uncertified professors give lectures
You can tell this ain’t no private school
Cause these are probably the same books my mama used
And her mama used
But when you poor you gotta do what you gotta do
And with a diploma, man anything is possible
Sorry bout that man, they lied to you
Cause them books ain’t going to provide for you
And thanks to the NCLB they can’t fail me
So I ain’t gotta listen to a thing they tell me
The nurse calling me stupid
But I’m going to be in summer school chilling with all of the cool kids
And I know that it’s eating you alive that I got a vehicle
And make more in a week than my teachers do

Motivate
I need somebody to listen to
A bond that goes deeper than physical
It’s almost spiritual
Therapeutic like the music we complete
I lay on your chest and write to your heartbeat

You the girl I never mistrusted
Finances, private business, we discussed it
Openly, you put your hope in me
And pointed out my shortcomings without provoking me

Most brothers want a booty call
Look in the mirror and see yourself for the treasure you truly are

I’m being candid, respect you demanded
Too many brothers take a good girl for granted
A real woman make you wanna improve
Not just do what you want her to do
She’ll tell you when you’re wrong
And be the missing notes to your song
There’s going to be some times when you don’t get along

If I Wait
The slang I be spitting
Got the critics wondering “what’s wrong with him?”
Just cause I chose not to bust slugs
You in the Matrix and don’t wanna be unplugged
Live from Zion but shots are flying
Went from poppin’ iron to rockets flying
Genocidal war is what we fighting for
And I been watching the news, it got me writing more
So I’mma leave my soul in the booth
You can’t tell me nobody ever told you the truth

On the Grind
My uncle Bobby was a kind man
So when he died I had a hard time believing it was God’s plan
Cause I don’t think ya’ll know what it’s like trying to be nice
And tell people that they don’t know what’s right
Begging folks to give my CD a chance
Even individuals who didn’t even want to see me advance
I just kept focused, striving to get noticed
Met with promoters with ulterior motives
I ain’t seen the highest but I been through the lowest
And I’mma spare ya’ll all the dramatized heroics
My mom worked to jobs for as long as I can recollect
And we still would be living from check to check
But I always had gifts under the tree
So I guess she was a perfect mother to me
So for how hard it came that’s how hard I go
Came a long way but got so far to go

Mama told me I was wasting my time
All that did was make me stay on the grind
Cause I still feel responsible
To let you know that nothing is impossible

A yo I gave ya’ll the fundamentals of how to take a pen and pencil
To the next level over instrumentals
Cause TV make rapping look easy
Ice jewels and the Bentley GT
Meanwhile there’s a kid in the slums
On the steps not knowing where his meal’s coming from
And he sees his boys that he grew up with
Blowing hundreds with a big old budget
So now the boy got a tough decision
Continue how we living or duck the system
So I construct a rhythm
Try to get him off the block before he wind up stuck in prison

It is what it is, this world in which we living is rough
But no matter what it seem, we still can’t get enough
Black folks want a hand out, the ghetto need feet
I just want a level playing field so we can compete
Most of my brothers won’t help each other prosper
Instead we clawing on each other’s backs like lobsters
How come in four hundred years we ain’t improve?
Looked at as a sellout if you packed up and moved
And what was up with all them people screaming vote or die?
Election came and went, but they wasn’t notified
No change made, these are strange days
We in different books, can’t be on the same page
Bill collectors at my door with past dues
I write for life and not cause I have to
I think about rhyming like them other guys
But Matthew 16:26 told me otherwise

Push
I was the man of the house at twelve
Contemplating ways to make it up out this hell
Survive and maybe write a book all about the tale
Cause mama said “with just a smidgeon of doubt you fail”
So since then I hit the block with no ounce to sell
Cause I knew she wasn’t bailing me out the jail

So call me conscious cause I don’t spit nonsense
I just give them options, diversify the topics
Knock it if you must, you wouldn’t be the first one
And I’m certain, got thick skin so it don’t hurt none
If I was cursing and blurting stupidity
It only make the situation worsened
My peoples is thirsting while deamons is lurking
It’s bout time somebody pulled back the curtain

PUSH like a mother giving birth when it hurts
PUSH when the scene look the worst I’m the first one to
PUSH for Dr. King and PUSH for Malcolm
PUSH the powers that be to change the outcome

The mic’s my grind, third job, seed that I never had
Fight for, scream, even dream with a pen and pad
Yo I was raised with no pops and haters was the stovetops
Looking at it objectively, I see why rappers go pop
But I couldn’t look my peoples in the eyes
Knowing I lied and became the one thing I despise
So I gotta push hard, scarred and bruised up
Watching the same system that falsely accused us
I know I’ll be in pain
But I can’t let the work of my ancestors be in vain

Salvation
Cause I wasn’t raised on a bad block
But around here fiends will snatch your lawn chairs if you ain’t got ‘em padlocked
Just to get another slice of that crack rock
Another day another cat shot
Younglings love shooting craps from the blacktop
Till the loser come back with his gat cocked
Clean the corner like a janitor
Escape before the cameras flash
You know it’s all for the love of the cash
And baby mamas be praying to hit the lottery
To get her out of poverty
Talking to the realtor bout some beachfront property

Whole Lot to Love
Well some days I wanna quit
But then there’s days I’m in love with it
This gift feels like a punishment
And every time I put pen to page, I gotta come with it
It ain’t as fun as it looks on TV
Cause half these cats with deals they can’t lyrically see me
Politics of this business is no joke
Sometimes I feel like there ain’t no hope

City Boy
Watching my neighbor beat his wife and kids
This the life we live, I got no choice but tell it like it is
It’s where the average chick will happen to diss you
If you still rolling on rims that’s factory issued