Words Hurt

LIfe has a way of pointing you in the right direction. As mine was falling apart, I was living in the back bedroom, separated from my wife and feeling like a ghost under my own roof. It was in this tired, huddled, poor state that I found a voice from the fog. Each week I would return to Syffal for the words of one Timothy Baker and my all time favorite Syffal column, "Music Ruined My LIfe".

Tim had a way of reminding me that everything has always sucked. He pulled no punches in reminding me how far I'd come. His tales of confusing sex, awful influences, terrible fashion, and questionable life choices broke me down and built me back up. I had convinced myself that I was the only one. It was life affirming to read that someone else out there was as confused, and broken, and annoyed by everything as much as I was. 

It lead me to reach out to Syffal and beg for a job. After writing a few reviews, I weaseled my way on staff. It wasn't until probably six months of writing reviews remotely (we all live in far-flung and exotic locales like Brooklyn and Pasadena and whatever the fuck Yorkville is) that I realized that Tim Baker was, in another form, Alaska from Def Jux-signed, Hangar 18. 

Even crazier was that hanging in our studio we STILL have a autographed tour poster from Hangar 18 and Glue when they had played Low End Theory like 7 years prior. It was like I had been sucked into some kind of alternate universe. To a dude who ate at the Def Jux buffet like Action Bronson eating through his Ghostface sads, realizing that I had been fraternizing with THE Alaska is hard to explain to normal people. I was geeked the fuck out. 

Hangar 18 is no more. There have been a few releases here and there. Alaska played a role in the soundtrack of DJ Pawl's documentary, Adult Rappers as the Cosby-episode-inspired, Gordon Gartrell. On Hello L.A. Records, earlier this year he put out Alkast, a mix tape of original Alaska raps over Outkast beats. 

But this. THIS. Teamed up with Lang on production, this incarnation, called Words Hurt lifts up skin and shines light in places that everyone will find morbidly fascinating. Four of the five tracks are remixes of Alkast songs, with the same Curly Castro/Zilla Rocca/Elsphinx collabs, only this time NOT over Outkast beats but using Lang's original production. 

Look, I liked Alkast. I was a dope concept, but something about those HIGHLY RECOGNIZEABLE beats made it hard to really like Alaska's version better than what the original classics had already sign, sealed, and delivered. But now. NOW! Over Lang's beats, Alaska's words not only come to life, but stand up and start knocking shit off my desk like assholes! They are all of a sudden allowed to breathe all on their own without the crushing weight of the past beating inside my skull. Alaska shines here! His references, though sometimes a bit dated, are masterfully woven into tales of paranoia, frustration with the news, everyday drudgery, 

Lang is just glitchy enough, just distorted enough, with impeccable drums and ample rumble. I'm basically begging Lang to throw me some crumbs. If you look up the definition of double-middle fingers in the Oxford dicktionary, the picture is Lang, pants at his knees and giving the bird to the world unashamed and erect! Alaska found a shit-covered diamond in Lang and his filthy, filthy beats. 

Words Hurt's Alkast Remixes is a bonus track called "Fluorescent Lights" which is from Alaska's forthcoming project called, "Fuck that Pretty Boy Shit." It is the best thing on the record, and if it is any indication of what the future holds for Alaska, retirement just isn't an option. I'm not sure if that will be released under the Words Hurt moniker (and thus produced by Lang), but one can hope.