If I'm being completely honest, and I am right now, I never listened to or wanted to listen to Open Mike Eagle rap after meeting him on an internet message board a few years ago. You meet so many "rappers" that after a while you can't lie to them and say "shit's dope man" anymore. It isn't constructive or honest to tell a shitty rapper that they sound dope when they in fact sound like Eminem's colon's sister's neighbor's sister's colon's colon and there is absolutely nothing original, exciting or compelling about anything coming out of their mouth, or colon.
Then I stumbled upon a review of his album Art Rap Party on accident, and after I read it I got jacked because MAYBE THIS DUDE IS DOPE AND I DON'T KNOW IT! Sure as shit, I legally borrowed an album link and listened for more than a week and enjoyed the absolute fucking shit out of the fucking shit.
Open Mike Eagle is nothing he says he isn't in that he isn't gangster or mean or full of shit or cocky for the sake of being cocky. Mike is a genuinely fucking nice guy, a proud fucking father, a master of the English fucking language, he's probably the most talented person in the room more than 95% of the time, and he isn't afraid of not being known as a rapper so much that he'll bug people to listen to his shit like most other rappers I know. He isn't in promo-mode all of the time because he doesn't need to be, his fucking talent speaks for itsfuckingself.
The only way you'd know this guy was a rapper was if you saw one of his shows, interviews or videos or if your favorite fucking rapper pointed him out as one of their fucking favorite rappers.
OME has a new EP out, which I think you should check out, because as my review will state, it's fucking fun, legible and the exact opposite of what would come out of my colon if my colon were a rapper.
SYFFAL: May I call you Sharon?
Open Mike Eagle (OME): You’re paying me for this, right? You can call me whatever you like.
SYFFAL: Sharon, I've got a few questions I've been afraid to ask people in the past and because you're such a friendly guy with great skin, I figure I'll give these a whirl on you. Is it okay that I whirl on you?
OME: I don’t even want you to whirl near me.
SYFFAL: At Del Taco, they call sour cream "white sauce" - as an educated white male I am fucking offended. As an educated black male, how fucking insulting is it to offer burrito combos with motherfucking fries?
OME: Oh they don’t do that in Mexico? I like to stuff the fries in the burrito. I call it an "art burrito".
SYFFAL: When I was in high school I had this friend that rapsang like you tend to do, but he was way better at it than you are. He runs a mortuary now and speaks to people who are there to mourn. Knowing that he's so much better at it than you are, yet is around stiffs all day, would you trade up to get the talent? Or will you stay where you are and have to work at it like a fucking mook?
OME: I don’t go to funerals when my own family members croak. So that doesn’t sound like a very sweet deal to me. I never know what to tell people when someone dies, either because I don’t think there's a heaven. It’s not very comforting to tell someone that their friend is now baby fungus and beetle shit.
SYFFAL: Considering how clear your speaking voice is on your records, do you ever surprise racist old white people with your diction in person? Is that rewarding? Am I making you uncomfortable?
OME: Old white people don’t talk to me. Except for old white women trying to trick me into going to bed with them. They don’t really appreciate diction because they like their men cockstrong and dumb.
SYFFAL: Three people are armed with pump action shotguns, you are one of them. There are 2 shells sitting on a table in the center of the room. All Balls Don't Bounce is on the cassette player. What are you wearing?
OME: A sombrero. A Koko B. Ware t-shirt. A hoop skirt. And Favre crocs.
SYFFAL: I was reading an interview I imagined and it said that you're into that yoga where you do the yoga in a 100 degree yoga room doing yoga in all sorts of wacky, sweaty yoga positions. How is your relationship with your colon? Are you currently taking a daily probiotic?
OME: I’m taking daily dumps, so me and the colon are good I think. I should prolly cutback on the pizza and beer though. My gut is getting out of any sort of control.
SYFFAL: Art rap huh? Could’t have come up with anything less threatening?
OME: Actually art rap is short for smart nigger rap so suck on that gringo.
SYFFAL: My mom thinks you are just the cutest. Is that a potentially untapped niche market out there for aging hip hoppers as yourself? Look at what Drake has done for the younger kids; you could be Nana's favorite emcee. Nana's store things in their bra, if you had DDD breasts, what would you store in your bra besides two turntables and a microphone?
OME: I’d store my hands in there, cause I'd be feeling myself up all day.
SYFFAL: Explain your relationship with Swim Team. People must hate hanging out with you guys, seeing as you all ooze talent like I sweat when I'm eating pastor burritos with my hands. Do you guys have like, a lodge and a secret handshake? Are there different levels of Swim Team?
OME: I’m currently in the process of retroactively adding all that funky, secret society shit to our mythos. I'm trying to go back and haze everybody but they aint having it. fucking divas. And to answer your question, my relationship to them is "the old guy".
SYFFAL: Your new EP, Art Rap After Party, is, in Joel speak 'fucking tits licking other tits while being caressed by vaginal secretion-soaked hands with well manicured fingernails with individual vaginas painted on each nail'. Can you confirm or deny this is in fact the case?
OME: Smelly, yes, but true.
SYFFAL: What's next for Mike Eagle? If that is your real name. When are you coming home to Chicago and might I interest you in a game of horseshoes? A GAME OF HORSESHOOOOES?
OME: I'll play horseshoes with you if you wear a dashiki and pierce your septum. Next is the new Thirsty Fish album with Dumbfoundead, and Psychosiz. I'll be back in the chi just as soon as somebody books me.
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