Here’s one way to interpret the title of the debut disc from Boycott Blues: on one paw, he’s a street cat who says “fuck it” for a fast ducat; on the other, this Roxbury beast laments the residual effects that come from poisoning his people and advancing cyclical oppression in the “concrete Congo.” Dude is Glenn Beck America’s foulest nightmare: young, black, and smart enough to give a fuck.
Irony is worth several hundred full listens. With emotional operatic ammo thundering behind him — mostly courtesy of intergalactic ghetto representative Insight — Blues both taps the pulse of blighted Boston and maturely represents frustrated clever hoodlums everywhere.
The commanding strings on “Blues’ Brothers” cradle his narratives; “Back Stroke” is genuine enlightened block fare; “Da Math” with Consequence is the hottest hip-hop track of 2009. Blues admits he has no solution for senseless street violence; still, his righteous poverty-themed rhymes are wise and intelligent far beyond his age and reputation.
