I believe it was around my junior year, I started a rap club with a very close friend of mine. This was at the height of my infatuation with the Beast Coast killer trio FBZ. Now don’t get it twisted, this infatuation has not ceased, nor faltered in any way, but damn I was a massive fanboy at this juncture of my life. I had heard “Bath Salts” I believe the summer prior, catching glimpses of the trio on tumblr here and there. I digress. I sit there heart racing, not the greatest public speaker, ready to discuss with a diasporic group of predominantly brown kids (and our white English teacher, who was dope as fuck), the complexities of this track. It was never about race in this setting, and this was long before the Woke culture had grown a head on itself, but consciousness and social awareness was paramount in this classroom, and more importantly, no bar was to go underappreciated. This was my chance to prove that a genre held close by so many was not to be regarded as taboo, and in reality can do what it has always seemed to do—educate. “Black activist, on actavis, a whole sheet of LSD but this ain’t for the mattress, ask ya bitch my stroke is immmaculate, a sinner and saint I’m flashy as an acid drip…” Those opening lines cracked my head for the 100th time (as I had the song on repeat the night before while preparing), and this small classroom turned their attention to a brilliantly crafted visual, replete with references to A Clockwork Orange, Cops, Isis beheading videos, and vapid reality show culture.

Nostalgia aside, there was a song to be heard amidst the flashy evocative visuals and beautiful nude ebony woman emblazoned on the big screen (a moment in which I blushed like a motherfucker in front of this old Caucasian teacher of ours), and there are a handful of lines to this day that I do not cease to conjure up on a daily basis. Meechy’s gravel-y voice, belting “Can I end up in the state pen with some statements”, “Nigga I had to suffer for this, lost every lover for this, every night I argue with my mother for this…” These are sentiments that ring true for almost every artist willing to push the envelope. Will the gripping bodies of work and 2 cents you put in as an artist be worth it when you face being alienated, censored, or even more victimized on account of speaking your truth? Erick’s more even tempered “I been a fan of rap, before I was a fan of being black now I’m famous got family no fantasy in that”, seems to immediately answer my proposed questions, seamlessly creating a report with Meech’s previous bars. It works out, it’s taboo, it’s dangerous but alluring to be an artist even one ostracized by an environment that can’t accept you, but it’s this you end up with. Juice ends this hard hitting, conscious reverie with not only lines but venomous flow and delivery on his verse; “Put the cup down… I know some of yall, influenced by hip hop and takin shit too far” “you could rap all you want with no message involved”. It’s fighting words that Juice spits, but it’s aged well especially when you grow up loving a genre to then immerse yourself in the scene this genre has cultivated, to see that Juice’s references to mindless rapping and substance abuse has not declined but indefinitely peaked. Blacktivist is not only a fucking banger, catchy and hard hitting as good music is, but it’s a behemoth in thought provocation and dialogue. There’s so much to dissect, and it’s not including visuals. It fills me with joy to talk about this song again somewhat in length, as it allows me not only to revisit a truly good track but brings me back to what started this writing shit. Go run this song all the way up. Skip the third verse on Bath Salts.

-ArchbishopEddy