My Gut Reaction: Apathy - Honkey Kong (August 23, 2011)

Chad Bromley, who used to rhyme under the pseudonym Apathy the Alien Tongue but shortened it down to just Tongue, and then The, and finally just Apathy, hails from Connecticut, where all hardcore underground rappers eventually end up when all of the bars in New York City are full.  He holds court in two of the indie world's more popular hip hop supergroups: the Army Of The Pharaohs, which is a loose collective formed by Vinnie Paz (of Jedi Mind Tricks fame), and the Demigodz, which he apparently leads in an unofficial capacity, meaning that he doesn't get paid as much as a team leader probably should.  As most underground rappers are wont to do these days, Apathy focuses an extraordinary amount of his time staring in disbelief at whatever the fuck passes as "rap music" these days, and his efforts to help dig it out of its grave have been documented across many mixtapes, cameo appearances, and proper albums, including the subject of today's post, his third full-length release Honkey Kong.

So why did I choose to write about Apathy's third album, instead of following my regular (and typically inflexible) rules of starting at the beginning of an artist's catalog?  For one, Honkey Kong, being newer, was much easier for me to find at a store.  But more specifically, I remember reading an interview with Chad where he spoke about recording an album that would recall his favorite era in our chosen genre, the mid-1990s, where he would get excited about the product hitting stores every Tuesday, ripping open the plastic, poring over the liner notes, and basically getting a hard-on when he came across the names of certain producers who all but guaranteed dopeness.  To that end, Apathy, an accomplished producer in his own right, enlisted some A-list talent to man the boards on a few tracks, including DJ Premier, DJ Muggs, Da Beatminerz, and...um, Evidence and Statik Selektah, who don't really fit the designation, but whatever, it's not my album.

Ap also filled the empty space with cameo spots from a ton of his friends in the industry, including many names you two will probably be familiar with have never really seen on the site before.  With Honkey Kong, Apathy attempts to unleash his fury on a cohesive project that aims to take the listener back to the days when rap music didn't sound so goddamn weak.  All this while he gave props to his home state of Connecticut, which is better known for its Ivy League schools than it is for its rhymes.

You two have been waiting for far too long, so let's just get started.

1. HONKEY KONG (FEAT. VINNIE PAZ)

Because everybody was expecting it to happen once it was announced that Apathy named his third album Honkey Kong, Vinnie Paz gets the “it's on like Honkey Kong” reference out of the way on the very first track, thanks to his piss-poor chorus that is, thankfully, his only actual contribution to this piece. Producer Vanderslice provides a beat befitting a rap album intro, and our host obliges by unleashing two entertaining verses that help set the mood better than any introductory skit could ever aspire to. Aside from the generic hook (I'm admittedly not a big fan of Vinnie Paz, but his chorus would have sounded terrible if anybody had performed it, including myself), this was a pretty good way to start things off. I also appreciate that, instead of having a rapper misquote Denzel Washington's infamous line from Training Day (I won't write it out here, because you two should already know what I'm talking about), Vanderslice simply lifts the sound bite from the film itself. Sometimes the easiest way is the best way.

2. HOLY GHOST (FEAT. SLAINE)

Apathy's production on “Holy Ghost” lends this track the feel of a demented carnival, one that isn't quite haunted, but still creeps you out a bit and skimps on the powdered sugar on your funnel cake anyway. Our host also assumes the lead position, delivering a verse that is an entertaining combination of his work on the first track (I especially enjoyed the line, “I'll keep you in check (Czech) like losing passports abroad”). Boston rapper Slaine, probably best known for his work with the La Coka Nostra supergroup and his menial acting gigs in Ben Affleck movies, also provides a good performance during his verse, one which is only sullied by his incredibly amateurish and shitty hook. I hope this doesn't become a running theme throughout Honkey Kong.

3. THE VILLAIN (FEAT. ILL BILL)

I didn't much care for the sample that our host chose to weave in to his instrumental: its choppy effect must have been entirely lost on me, since it sounded terrible and I am an old man who enjoys Werther's Originals and telling children to get off of my lawn. But the actual beat on here was really fucking good. There is no terrible hook on here (unless you count the vocal sample, I guess): instead, Ap and his invited guest Ill Bill challenge the listener to discern who the real big bad is in the world, on a track that actually won't have you rooting for the bad guy. Some of the lines don't really click (at one point, it's brought up that childhood vaccines bring about autism; Ap doesn't chose a particular stance, but it still seems irresponsible to even inadvertently lend credence to that theory, since it was later proven to be pure bullshit), but overall, this wasn't bad.

4. CHECK TO CHECK

Once I read that title, I just knew that there would be no way that producer Evidence (of Dilated Peoples fame) would be able to ignore the obvious Andre 3000 vocal sample from OutKast's “Elevators (Me & You)”. What surprised me was how passive the beat actually was: Apathy's plea for support from his fans may fall on deaf ears thanks to an instrumental that pussies out, aiming for “It's okay, I still love you” instead of, “No, seriously, motherfucker, you need to buy my shit.” (I did like how Evidence dropped the music in favor of the sounds of a thunderstorm during the second verse, holding it for much longer than expected.) For his part, Ap gives the listener a mixed message: during his first verse, he complains about living “Check To Check” because he refused to sell out his music, but on the second half of the track he admits that he's terrible with handling money before seriously considering quitting music in favor of a job that pays better. The fuck?

5. STOP WHAT YA DOIN' (FEAT. CELPH TITLED & DJ PREMIER)

After a brief intro provided by DJ Premier, the listener is launched headfirst into one of the finest Primo productions of recent memory, with his trademarked boom bap cleaned up just a tiny bit as a way to attract new fans to both Ap and his invited guest Celph Titled, both of whom adapt quickly and admirably. Apathy especially sounds pretty fucking great over this caliber of instrumental, earning DJ Premier instant forgiveness for his tendency to lend beats to z-grade unknown rappers who will never become anything. The sheer audacity of swiping a vocal sample from Digital Underground's “The Humpty Dance” helps make the “hook” instantly memorable, and not just because it serves as the inspiration for the title. This shit was nice. Apathy loses a few points for the painfully obvious “There's an Ap for that” line, but hey, at least he isn't saying that on all of his songs.

6. THE RECIPE (FEAT. XZIBIT)

Although “The Recipe” features arguably the biggest name-brand guest star on all of Honkey Kong, Apathy fails him by allowing Stu Boogie to produce such an annoying fucking instrumental. Our host also relies far too heavily on abbreviations and text shorthand throughout his two verses, which makes this song the first true misfire of the evening. For his part, Xzibit, never a stranger to the hip hop underground, acquits himself nicely enough (for a guy who used to have his own reality show on MTV, he can still rip the shit out of a microphone when asked), but the track as a whole is a skippable affair. Sigh.

7. FEAR ITSELF

Apathy continues to watch the sun set in the West, bringing in DJ Muggs as a producer-for-hire for “Fear Itself”, an effort that decidedly does not sound like a Cypress Hill leftover. As pretentious as they are, I had missed hearing Muggs work in that breathy vocal sample that announces his Soul “Assassins” into his beats, so in that respect, “Fear Itself” is successful. Oh, and also because Ap sounds focused as fuck on here: even the overly shitty hook doesn't detract from his performance. I wish that Muggs and Primo were able to contribute more toward Honkey Kong, but I understand that request would be impossible. Because the album was already mastered and released and because I'm listening to it, you see.

8. WHO GOT DA JUICE (INTERLUDE) (FEAT. BLACASTAN)

Apathy's boy Blacastan contributes his take on the Wu-Tang Clan's hyper-popular “Killer Tape” interlude from Enter The Wu-Tang (36 Chambers), although this is most certainly the only parody that plays the theme song to Disney's Adventures of the Gummi Bears in the background during playback. Inessential, but amusing.

9. IT'S ONLY HIP HOP (FEAT. BREVI)

Over a pseudo-soulful Statik Selektah concoction, Chad offers up two distinct but related messages: he doesn't like it when you ask him about his personal life (just because you listen to his music doesn't make him want to open up to you, you see), and he doesn't care for you if you can't understand that this rap shit isn't necessarily real life. He drops a ton of names on here, but within this context, that artistic decision makes perfect sense, helping even the new listener gain a modicum of familiarity with our host before he politely requests that you stop acting like he owes you something just because you bought Honkey Kong. The beat is meh, and the guest vocals from Brevi were inconsequential, but Ap's bars were decent enough, so that was something.

10. I DEDICATE THIS TO YOU (FEAT. TOSHA MAKIA)

A slow-paced introduction gives way to a surprisingly banging Smoke the World beat, and I use the word “surprisingly” because most love raps don't knock. This isn't a love rap in the truest sense of the phrase, though: Apathy uses one verse to describe how he felt when he lost the girl, and the other finds him ecstatic about winning her back, which is actually kind of sweet, especially as he works in autobiographical details about his career throughout. The use of a CL Smooth vocal sample (from “They Reminisce Over You (T.R.O.Y.)”), which gives the track its title, was kind of corny, but this song as a whole wasn't bad.

11. ALL I THINK ABOUT (FEAT. ACTION BRONSON)

Vanderslice's musical backing is far more subdued than you would expect for a song dedicated to “catching wreck on the m-i-c”, but this still wasn't bad, especially as Apathy blows his invited guest out of the water. New York artist Action Bronson doesn't do a bad job or anything, but his voice resembles that of Ghostface Killah so goddamn much that I was left wishing Ap had ponied up the extra dough for a proper Pretty Toney cameo. Still, he makes his point and continues to be a rapper worth looking for in the very near future, so as long as he doesn't do anything stupid, Action Bronson and his badass rap name should be alright.

12. NEVER SAY NEVER (FEAT. GENERAL STEELE & MAD LION)

Apathy and Steele (of Smif-N-Wessun fame) rip this Teddy Roxpin creation to shreds, but the real shock of “Never Say Never” (which is actually a cover of the Justin Bieber hit song) is the return of Mad Lion; after lending an alright chorus (which works in a sound bite from The Sandlot, which I wholeheartedly approve), he gets the third verse all to himself, and it's almost Cappadonna on “Winter Warz”-esque how much he tries to impress the listener with his bars (if not the actual length of his verse, which sounded really long but was probably fairly standard). The instrumental also banged in just the way I wish all hip hop would today.

13. ALBINO GORILLAS (FEAT. ESOTERIC)

The hook on here is fucking terrible. And I mean truly awful, like embezzling from your grandmother and yet still getting upset that she can only afford to send you ten dollars for your birthday-awful. DJ Wayne Ski's instrumental isn't great either, but it approaches a more experimental El-P-when-half-asleep sound than the rest of Honkey Kong, and both Apathy and fellow Demigodz/Army Of The Pharaohs member Esoteric sound very nice over it. (I was actually thrown by Esoteric's reference to the album cover for Basement Jaxx's Rooty, which I did not see coming.) That title only exists because the album is called Honkey Kong and there are two white rappers on here, but maybe these guys used up all of their creative resources actually writing their verses.

14. PEACE CONNECTICUT

One of the worst things you can ever do to a rapper is accuse them of forgetting their roots. They are legally able to drag you into a public arena and humiliate the shit out of you if you are stupid enough to do that. (I should know, I...um...checked.) Apathy teams up with Da Beatminerz, who apparently really just don't need the work anymore, for an ode to Connecticut, working in a familiar (and perfectly chosen) vocal sample from Raekwon's “Incarcerated Scarfaces”, and even though it doesn't bank as hard as Black Moon's best efforts, it was still a nice gesture.

15. ARMY OF THE GODZ (FEAT. ESOTERIC, BLACASTAN, REEF THE LOST CAUZE, PLANETARY, CRYPT THE WARCHILD, MOTIVE, CELPH TITLED, & VINNIE PAZ)

When your host holds designations in not one, but two underground collectives (in this case, the Army Of The Pharaohs and the Demigodz), it would be almost criminal to not include them on a posse cut. Apathy exceeds expectations by involving members from both crews, each artist getting their verse quickly out of the way before the next guy runs them over with a tank made up of disconnected threats and misguided braggadocio. Since this is rap music, though, disconnected threats and misguided braggadocio are the best outfit for the day, so “Army Of The Godz” is full of heat rocks, thanks to Teddy Roxpin's beat, even though the only really discernible voice on the track isn't even that of our host, but Celph Titled's. Weird, that.

16. 1:52 A.M.

Apathy chooses to end Honkey Kong not with an outro of any sort of grandiose statement, but with a small attempt at storytelling that is just okay enough. Our host tells the same tale from different angles, Rashomon-style, which really needs to be done more often in hip hop, and has varying degrees of success. I was afraid that “1:52 A.M.” would morph into some sort of Slim Shady-lite domestic horror cliché, but once you realize that the second verse is performed from the point of view of the first character's ex-girlfriend, you'll appreciate the effort. Still, this was a strange way to end the album.

The deluxe edition of Honkey Kong comes bundled with a second disc full of its instrumentals and a bonus EP, Primate Mindstate, made up of tracks swept up off of the cutting room floor.

1. EAST COAST RAPIST

Primate Mindstate kicks off with an extended monologue lifted directly from The Breakfast Club, slowed down to such a degree that Anthony Michael Hall sounds like he's going to eat my brain and gain my knowledge. Fittingly, the sample of “Don't You (Forget About Me)” from Simple Minds (also from that movie, but if you read this site, that should be common knowledge) is also played back very slowly, while Apathy makes a valiant attempt at calling himself a rapist as though that's a good thing. He sounds great, though, over his own production, which blows Drew Money's work on Nicki Minaj and Kanye West's “Blazin'”, which sampled the same song, out of the frame. Ap also makes excellent use of vocal samples taken from The Notorious B.I.G. and Ol' Dirty Bastard. Not bad at all, and not just because I have a well-documented fondness for the music of the 1980s.

2. SQUEEZE (FEAT. BLACASTAN)

This shit sounded alright up until the “chorus”, which was really fucking stupid. Which is too bad: Apathy and his boy both come off as okay enough over our host's celebratory production. But I couldn't get past that “hook”, which is just a bunch of noise effects and sound bites smashed together like The Avalanches on Ambien, so as a result, I didn't care much for the track itself. Oh well.

3. DEAR LORD (FEAT. ETERNIA & DIABOLIC)

Whereas this shit was pretty fucking good. In fact, it was so good that it should have been left on Honkey Kong. Apathy enlists female rapper Eternia and his boy Diabolic for a track questioning why a just deity would allow terrible things to happen to good or innocent people, and although they walk away with no answers (because if any religion ever actually responded to their queries correctly, then that would start up all sorts of holy wars, as human beings are prone to do, sadly), the questions themselves are compelling enough to carry the track, thanks especially to Apathy's own production work. Eternia even gets in the best line: “If the devil is the blame, then why'd you create the bastard?” This was pretty sweet, if awfully depressing.

4. MAKE ALOTTA MONEY

The first verse of this outtake comes across as a more aggressive version of “Check To Check”, with Apathy trashing those who illegally downloaded hos music but pay to watch his shows: he even threatens to somehow make them “work for free” just so they will finally know how it feels to not be properly compensated for a day's work. It's a good point, yes, but clearly Ap thought it was a bit too antagonistic to be included on the proper album. The fact that the second verse decries celebrity deejays who “play their iPod” probably doesn't help, either, and the beat was pretty bland too. Moving on...

5. SMOKE WEED EVERYDAY (FEAT. SCOOP DEVILLE)

Just the fact that Apathy sampled the late Nate Dogg's immortal closing line from Dr. Dre's “The Next Episode” is enough for me to listen to this song. But then he samples Billy fucking Idol's “Eyes Without A Face”? For a song about getting high? Kind of fucking brilliant. Even though it isn't sampled all that well (Ap essentially allows the song to play in the background untouched throughout the actual verses), as an unabashed fan of the 1980s, I'm not mad at this. At all. Guest star Scoop Deville, better known these days for his production work, leaves behind a verse chock-full of forgettable bars, but I still thought this was enjoyable as shit.

6. NO RAPPER

The LL Cool J vocal sample (borrowed from “I'm Bad”) sets up this old school-tinged track, with Apathy destroying his own instrumental in the process with two powerful verses that remain as such even though he references Rebecca Black for no good reason. His attack on the “nerdy” rappers who full radio airwaves today is valid, though: hip hop used to be a musical genre hated by your parents, not something your mother sings along to while driving to Zumba class. Your parents aren't supposed to know who Drake is! So yeah, a lot of this actually worked for me.

7. DEATH TO THE CULTURE VULTURES

Our evening really ends with our host's manifesto, in which he wishes to take back the hip hop culture that he loves, take it back from those who have raped and pillaged and Auto-Tuned it, in the hopes of cleaning it up, feeding it, helping it get its confidence back, having it checked for STDs, and finally taking it back to the gutter sounds that he grew up adoring. (His brief monologue at the very end makes me miss 1994 all over again.) Some may find it curious that Ap would sample Jay-Z's voice on a song where he decries everything that is wrong with our chosen genre, but it's easy to forget that Hova was never really the problem, as he simply forced people to listen to him instead of the other way around. This was a great way to end the proceedings.

THE LAST WORD: Apathy's Honkey Kong is ultimately a successful attempt at the throwback sounds of the 1990s that he so longs for. As is to be expected, not every song works, but his batting average is pretty up there, thanks to his skills behind the mic (which still sound fucking raw, in a good way, even though he's been doing this for more than a decade at this point) and the boards. When Ap cedes production duties to others, more often than not they strike gold, as Apathy comes across as the perfect collaborator, one who is open to feedback and is willing to try new things. Which is probably why he has so many friends in the industry, seemingly all of whom appear at some point on Honkey Kong. The album is even perfect for my short attention span: a good majority of these tracks only stick around for a couple of verses, as though our host felt he got his point across and wanted to quickly move on. Most of the choruses on Honkey Kong are so fucking awful, they very well might be considered parodies of hip hop hooks, but if you're able to look past that, you'll find this to be very entertaining. You should only pick up the deluxe version, though: why do anything half-assed when life is short?

-Max