Mistah F.A.B. – The Baydestrian

    I thought I was feeling hyphy. I had no idea.

    Mistah F.A.B. (Faeva Afta Bread) is back with his latest
    installment, this one called The Baydestrian. The Oakland native has
    been through a lot, and this album showcases the depth of his understanding and
    his sincere appreciation for life.

    Plus it bangs.

    Initially knocked by some for being a back-pack rapper who couldn’t make songs,
    F.A.B.’s breakout success on his sophomore album Son of a
    Pimp
    had others calling him too commercial. Fortunately the
    self-proclaimed Prince of the Bay persisted, because Baydestrian
    is an absolute triumph.

    The intro wastes no time getting into it; frivolously defining “baydestrian”
    with a sassy-ass flow that teases you into bobbing your head and pretending to
    hyphy-dance. It’s followed by a clean, crisp remix to “The Slideshow,”
    this time featuring fellow Bay-area legend Too Short. It’s
    simultaneously hype and chill, and has just enough “beyatch’s” to be authentic.
    Life on Track”
    is darker; an introspective, honest mural of life from the eyes of young black
    man who lost his father to A.I.D.S., his brother to prison, and his hope to the
    harsh reality of ghetto America. The whisper flow perfectly reflects the
    tentativeness of his optimism, but what makes this track different than every
    other hard-knock-life tale about the hood is that F.A.B.
    refuses to play the role of a victim; admitting his struggles with weed and
    cognac. “Jamonie
    Robinson”
    is similar; a pensive tribute to fallen loved ones and
    good times gone forever. Here we see yet another distinction between F.A.B.
    and his west coast fears; his ability to come off not only as sensitive, but
    vulnerable.

    “Furley Ghost”
    is a dance generated celebration of the next generation of hyphy culture. Full
    of tributes to label boss Mac Dre, F.AB.,
    effortlessly pushes the rap envelope and still manages to stay true to his
    genre. Think of it as a don’t-leave-home-without-it travel guide into the west
    coast world of drugs, parties and drug parties. “Crack Baby Anthem” is equally
    informative. The bass-heavy hook provides a fleeting yet crystal clear glimpse
    of an entire culture, like looking through a rainy windshield right after the
    wipers pass:

    “This one goes out to the youngsters on the corner/ Posted with a burner
    won’t leave till its over/Dreads like a weed hang down to the shoulder/ Rock
    after rock turn a bubble from a quarter”
    .

    “Fight Music”
    is exactly as billed – angry, serious threats that underline age-old gender
    animosity that most often plays itself out in tales of pimp smacks and bitch
    slaps. “On Yo
    Way”
    is inspirational and educational; perhaps a tad corny, but
    heartfelt. “Shorty
    Tryin 2 Get By”
    is a 2007 “Brenda’s Got a Baby.” Either it lacks
    the poignance of the original, or I’m more jaded than I was in 1991.

    “Race for Your
    Pink Slips”
     Dem Cars” both
    do justice to the often overlooked car culture in the Bay area, with the
    ominous Spice-1 adding a decent verse on “Race.” “Dem Cars” is
    more frenzied fun; pure hyphy-ocity, but you gotta listen close: “She
    feeling on my bone, my piper my pecker my peter/ I’m spilling my patron on cue
    like Derek Jeter/ my hyphy rating be
    going off the meter/another myspace groupie hit me, man I’m gonna meet her”
    .

    “Get This Shit
    Together”
    is probably the closest thing to a low-point on this
    album – it lacks the organized chaos that the rest of the disc has. “Feelin’ Fine”
    is a bit scattered too, but the duo with Dogwood has a quality
    feel to it; makes you want to sit down somewhere and listen. “Goin Crazy” is
    a confession-type song about a stripper (think: T-Pain on ecstasy.) “My Deepest Thoughts” is well-titled; F.A.B.
    reflects on everything from single-parent homes to Zulu religion to education
    reform.

    “100 Bars”
    is essentially the sequel, except that this part two is better; the mental
    imagery and sheer lyrical brilliance provide an impressive cap on a literal
    work of art…dare I say masterpiece. It may not be a true classic or perfect,
    but it may just be the definitive Bay album of the decade.

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