Blackalicious “Shallow Days” Nia Quannum 2000

When was the last time you listened to Oakland duo Blackalicious? I rarely see them mentioned ’round these internets, and for me, it’s admittedly been quite a while since I’ve even given them thought. Gift of Gab is one of those MCs, like Black Thought from The Roots, whose delivery, cadence, and articulation are nothing shy of amazing, but sixteen bars later I’m struggling to stay awake. After probably dozens of listens to their debut full-length Nia (2000), I’m still hard-pressed to come up with one memorable line from the dude; fortunately, Chief Xcel’s colorful production on the record still manages to engage me. I gave Blazing Arrow (2002) a few spins when it was released then promptly forgot about it, and didn’t even bother with The Craft (2005), but Nia isn’t a bad record, despite its near-agonizing length and stale ‘conscious rap’ ethos.

“Shallow Days” remains my favorite cut on the album, as Gab takes a break from hyperactive lyrical dexterity and dissecting the first seven letters of the alphabet to ruminate on the state of hip hop, its influence on today’s youth, and the struggles of the young Black man in the ghetto. Nothing new, of course, although the way Gab narrates a conversation with a “misled” brother during the first and second verses is impressive, and in the third he discusses the state of hip hop in the wake of Afrocentricity and gangsta rap’s effect on children, who are “seeing more drama than war veterans.” Xcel repeats a two-bar loop of phased guitar and congas underneath a somewhat forceful drum pattern, which he then supplements with some psychedelic sound effects and a breezy trumpet during the chorus. Like much of Nia, this sounds fantastic on a stifling hot summer afternoon, as reality is distorted under a blanket of humidity.

“Shallow Days” – Blackalicious 4:20 (Nia, Quannum 2000)