Robert Christgau: Dean of American Rock Critics

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$ilkmoney: I Don't Give a Fuck About This Rap Shit, Imma Just Drop Until I Don't Feel Like It Anymore [DB$B, 2022]
"Bitch I don't need a pistol/It's just me and my niggas versus the algorithms," begins this polysyllabist whose beats are atmospheric settings and who favors the word "bitch" while fucking women articulate enough to call him "misogynistic." But he proved such an educated autodidact--note title that chooses "Anymore" over "No More"--that I concocted the hopeless project of familiarizing myself with four of his albums, which wore me out so bad that all further exploration will remain in the wait-and-see pile until further notice. For now, however, some inspirational verbiage. "Fuck black lives matter let's go back to the days of black power." "The back of your neck looks like a pack of hot dogs." "Endoplasm reticular within cytoplasm." "I've been trying to rock this spliff since a bar back." "Labeled 'uncivilized' by a civilization participating in cannibal genocide. Any takers for Negro soup?" A-