Cas One

I grew up around people who made the rap musics. Guys who had no problem with fighting, skipping school, smoking, breaking rules or laws, abusing one's liver, pulling a homemade three footer from the second floor of an abandoned house; rappers were a walking curiosity to me. I mean, you had these socially freeballing individuals who were constantly testing the limits of their environment, basically throwing the middle finger at school or a job, but they were knee deep in fucking poetry bro.

Skipping school where they were dealing in prose and iambic pentameter for a letter grade only to drive around listening to Ghostface and Sage Francis acapellas. Sure the subject matter was delivered differently, but we're essentially talking about the same masturbation of words for pleasure.

There were two kinds of rapper that I was familiar with: The rapper who battled everywhere or joined any cypher anywhere at anytime just to fucking rap, who never seemed to record anything because he was at a party listening to rap and rapping with others about rap. And then there was the kid who kept a rhyme book in his back pocket, seemed to creepily stare at the kids doing the cyphering in public, had probably recorded close to a hundred tracks over the last few months alone, yet you never heard anything.

Until.

This type of rapper doesn't show you his rap dick until he's confident in its mast, girth and ability to wear snapbackz without looking twelve years old bro.

This type of rapper doesn't bring up the fact that he's a writer become all that he is, because to 99% of people they're only concerned with what comes out of his mouth when he repeats their order back to them in the drive thru.

This type of rapper knows he has to actually be awesome to matter to anyone but his moms and his tiny circle of fellow rappers.

But then that rapper starts accepting responsibility as an employee outside of fast food, maybe wifes up a broad, has a few kids, writes a few letters to the editor of the local newspaper instead of The Source. The album's on hold bro. Indef bro.

Yeah what I'm describing isn't necessarily Cas One or anything, I'm just brotificating on the idea that he's obviously a rapper who doesn't show off his rap dick unless it's been polished by a Polish polishstress who specializes in Polish sausage polishing, brolish.

The Monster and the Wishing Well is more than a half decade in the works I assume. Not only does Cas Onereference his tardiness when it comes to album droppage, he's flinging his rap dick all over this album like he's never dropped one. So this has to be a rarity from Cas One because Cas One sounds like you don't know whoCas One is yet, and if this is his last chance of getting you on the Cas One dick, then he's going to scoop you up on the dills because Cas One's pretty fucking sure you should be on the Cas One dills.

But, if I had been paying attention to what I was listening to the first time through I might've missed it.

Cas One made himself a fucking album here boyz.

TMatWW (bronounced "TMat WaWa") consistently holds my attention, it's encouraged me to start songs over, and I had favorites after the first time through it. If there were some mathematical formula that helped determine how many stars or mics some asshole gives an album, I'm pretty sure those three traits are pretty star and/or mic-worthy there bro.

Honestly, my window for hip hop I'll listen to more than once is getting smaller and smaller the older I get; everything seems too gimmicky, everything sounds too much like everyone else, the beats aren't what I would even choose to bump as instrumentals, and the vocals suck balls more often than not and are either too basic, the tone sucks or they're just terrible from every direction. Yes, I'm a cranky old coot with a very narrow "type" when it comes to the raps now.

Cas One managed to make an album that, to me, feels like I happened to hear some good fucking guy make the album he'd always dreamed of making. If you've listened to indie hip hop at any point in the past ten years you might get the feeling that the majority of the market is swimming in kids looking to cash in on a kitsch factor, a viral video, a twitter beef or something else inconsequential having nothing to do with actual songwriting/rap chops.

Cas might be one of the exceptions.

His voice is the opposite of annoying, carrying a tone that's both inspired and inspiring, he doesn't sound forced, fake or like he's rapping as a character. I'm not only impressed, I'm publicly and giddily slapping at theCas One dills he be flippins all arounds in our ear holes.

The Monster and the Wishing Well is the first time I've listened to more than one Cas One song, ever. The songs are intelligent, his cadences are a testament to his obvious talent, and let's face fat facts here, he knows how to pick beats. Or at least he knows how to fucking pick a dude to pick beats, because there's a few tracks on here that are fucking nasty on their own before Cas stars snotting and spitting all over the fuckers.

The guitar work on the production side of this album is annoying the piss out of me because of how fucking gorgeous it is. Seriously, peep the intro or the outro or the sinterlude Out of the Light and force yourself not to fondle yourself. It isn't just good music, it's deliciously perfect. Sure Cas One barged into my dimly lit room as I attempted to seduce myself to the guitars, but at least he doesn't suck at the raps, so I'm not too upset, or embarrassed about me pants around me anklesies.

One of the things that caught my ear about TMat WaWa was that the intros or lead ins on some of these songs are just hugedickulous. Chasing Greatness is fucking balls deep. Neverrunner is that introspective "stare at yourself in the mirror"/film your own sad rap video type shit. Vultures feels like a Minnesota rap track and it's driveway basketball style freshy. Am What I Am has perhaps the breathiest and most oxygenated entrance, but then it just gets high top Converse all stars on you bro.

Coldspell has a chorus on it that not only kicks me in the throat, it's made me film myself in the shower so I can replay what I think I should look like while listening to it. This song has the potential to make you bounce while at the same time make you le sads bro. Slower meter and intense as Fuck chorus? HERE ARE MY TESTICLES, STAB THEM PLEASE.

The guitar work on Rabbit Named Wolf is that Red Hot Chili Peppers strumming shit from the Californication album and a short but poignant set of words from Cas One, and it's balls.

Seriously, if you're aware of Cas One, buy the fucking album and begin your obsession. If you're unaware of him and are in the market for a regular white dude with irregular amounts of talent and a (badass) wife (I assume) that allows him the pleasure of still rapping, but this fucking album.

TMat WaWa is balls ya'lls.