Local MCs, the Radio, and Hip-Hop Playlists
I often wonder what hip-hop would be like if it only existed on the local level. I mean, any city I go to has a "hip-hop" station that plays the same songs as everyone else. The same songs you hear in Denver, or Chicago, or Honolulu, or Columbus, or Albuquerque, or Phoenix, or Tampa (all places I've been recently). The same songs you see on MTV, or VH1, or BET. All nationally known hip-hop artists. No variety. No underground. Not even an hour for local acts trying to come up.

Regardless, I can't help but imagine what hip-hop could be like if these national stars didn't exist. What if every city played only local acts? What if the playlists were determined by, say, whom the audience picked instead of who may have been lucky enough to get a major marketing scheme to back them up? What if the radio picks weren't completely about getting paid? Would this help hip-hop?

Mos Definitely
Well, my opinion is that this scenario would, as a hip-hop linguist might say, mos definitely help hip-hop. It would mos definitely make the radio playlists more diverse and unique. It would mos definitely help the local communities and real starving hip-hop artists. And if you ever rolled way out west, say San Francisco or Portland, you would mos definitely hear Serge Severe spitting lyrics all over the radio.

A lot of not-yet-famous artists from all over the country have been sending me their albums, or EPs, or demos recently for review possibilities. Unfortunately, this is probably the hardest part of running this website. I don't write bad reviews, so its not like I'm going to diss anyone online or anything … if I don't like your album, I'm just not going to review it. But it's still hard because I constantly have to tell cats with a dream that I wasn't feeling their stuff and am not going to review it, and that's not easy for me to do.

Luckily, Serge Severe's newest album, "Walk in My Shoes," forced me to do neither. Not only did I think it was hot, even to the point of possibly being the best underground album I've heard this year, but it also inspired me to write a review, something that not many albums do for me these days. The production was clean and innovative, the lyrics were creative, clever and intelligent, and Serge's laid back flow was a unique and refreshing change from the repetitive ways cats seem to be rhyming over beats these days.

"Walk in My Shoes"
Serge Severe represents a new breed of local MC that is popping out all over the country. He is an intelligent lyricist attempting to use his words to further conscious thought and understanding, yet the songs are still fun and entertaining. The manner in which he stretches words around tight beats shows off a verbal dexterity seldom seen in mainstream hip-hop, and leaves heads nodding in acceptance. And the production of "Walk in My Shoes," apparently created by other local talent, fit not only the mood of each song, but the rhyme style of Serge Severe and his few talented feature lyricists.

So pick up a copy. Next time you're in any major city in this country and decide you've heard the radio bumps a few too many times, throw it in and contemplate what hip-hop could be if local acts would just get some airtime. After you listen, I guarantee that if someone were to ask you if Serge Severe's new album, "Walk in My Shoes," is worth picking up, the only suitable answer you'd be able to give would have to be "mos defniately, homie. Mos definitely." Check out some of my favorite verses below:

Sings to Me
At times I feel trapped in a bottomless hole
And yes, it's far from rap when you manifest soul
This is hard to match and cannot be sold
And though it makes me laugh, how the game is funny
Cats only in it for the fame and money
Thick chains and honeys
But when it comes down to it, they're really changing nothing
Dang it's the same, not a grain of substance
That's all you had to say, you must be saving something

Where we living, we all had to weather the storm
Same time a man dies, another is born
That says of one's cries, others will joy
In addition to one's lives, others is torn
I hear the voice of the needy, voice of the innocent
Second hand through the air, just like cigarettes
In fact my interest which sparks my intellect
Motivation, my weapon make my heart my biggest threat
It sings, happy to sadness
Aim for peaceful, but the world screams madness
No beauty in it, so at times no pageants
It's tactics, run by corruption and greed
It's something to see, but it's enough when it sings
I hear the songs of the poor, rich and wealthy
Songs of the old, young, sick and healthy
Sucker punch society so I know they felt me
But reached out to grab the hand that's helping
And I reached out my hand, the hand that's helping

Clockwork
Late nights under shadows when the moon hits the darkness
Throw my rhymes like knives; see who is the sharpest

Put my raps on the airplane, you know they fly
So when I get up on the mic, I'ma blow they high
Razor blade smooth delivery; my tongue don't tie
Who's this new kid
Watch the flow get your ears open just like Q-tips
So no excuses; just put me in the bank
This beat is my canvas, my words are the paint
Hungry eating with my hands, cleaning all of my plate
Then it's off to my show once my stomach is full
Plan to keep the crowd moving like the running of bulls

On beat that's my MO, my timing's incredible
If rhymes were outlawed, then my crimes would be federal
Thinking about one line while I'm inking about several
So, just listen man
Dropping more lines than fisherman
Knew I was here when I started spittin' man
Cause my lyrics stay ticking like second hands on a watch
Music without red light, so it can't be stopped
Yao Ming flow, can't be blocked

This Smile
I don't know if there's a god, I don't know if there's a devil
What I do know is my income's at the poverty level
So hard to be civil
When you just wanna break something, take something
Time's getting hard; it just makes you want to hate something
I ain't fronting, trying to get rid of the pain so my raps hotter than eight ovens
Baked hundreds of degrees, hairy like monkeys
Catch me swinging from trees; it's the agile rap style
Giving you a half smile and half frown
Cause that's my life now
Electrical surgeon … light's out!
Dark house, lived through that
Still do rap trying to move forward and not move back
Like no more shitty apartments
No more family departed

I'm from a place where police wanna see me fail
But over my dead body will they ever see me jailed
So they can point their fingers like "See, he failed"
Regardless you gonna feel me like you read brail

100 Proof
I gotta way with words, I use words in ways
On the tip of my tongue, so every one I spray
Duck the ricochet
Never slipping like the butter off toast
I'm better than most

That Sound Y'all
Cats like me I was born to do it
Flick your lighters, the flow's embalming fluid
Don't mess with the cops cause they gonna shoot ya
That's why I'm Mr. Nice Guy like Alice Cooper
That's where I'm from y'all just read the papers
It's either that, or they gonna tase ya

This is not pop phony; this is hip-hop homey
Single instrumental in my tape deck, Sony
Black suede Pumas with the fat white laces
Worn by that Knick guard, the name Clyde Frazier
Gliding to the basket witness poetry in motion
When I rap it up like a gift for ya
Shine up my spit for ya
Back in the swing of things
And you gonna know my name like I punched you with a four-finger ring
That reads Serge
You see I just can't help it, my pen bleeds words
Plus breathes metaphors
I'm the writer and editor

Y'all know how I do things
Kill the beat by hanging it with its own shoestrings
I feel the tension
Cause nowadays rappers really don't speak to the consensus
I'm here to make my point like the period of a sentence
You see most listeners aren't gangsters or millionaires
But when that album drops I guess a million cared
Enough to drop fifteen bucks plus tax
When you can cop mine for under a dime plus facts

Life's a Beach
Life's a bitch, life's a beach
Getting burnt from the heat
And weathered from the weather
I grab paper and write with the ink quill feather
I dap neighbors and tell them it can only get better
Trying to keep a positive outlook
Like it's never obviously doubtful
Tired from the rat race
I wanna retire on a fat lake
Who do I trust? I hear voices
Preaching wrong choices
I'll show ya
But I ain't never seen an arc or Noah
Nor the Middle East I feel a snake slithering
I feel its fangs digging in
I feel its poison venom sink
From the Portland that's not promised
I stay honest and brutal to be brutally honest
I'm like some people with problems looking to solve them
Overlooked, but not out of luck
Seen the light once, thunder struck
Felt my mic underbrush
Wrapped my hands around it like a hug

Life's a beach and I feel just like a grain of sand
Just one small piece of some vacant land
Doing my best not to get washed up
Wins and losses I've chalked up
And stood my ground whenever the storm struck

Down to Earth
I'm like, what up lady, I'm single now
You don't know me but you will when my single's out
Got a face like Carmen that's why you Singled Out
Skin like caramel; can I sneak a piece?
I used to be with an imitation Alicia Keys
My fav until that day she didn't know my name
Rest of us got tainted
I just want one reliable I don't need them high maintenance
Get outta the mirror
Told you "you look fine" let's go slam a few beers
We so young in our years
So screw the finances
Cause if it's all about money, honey, that would ruin our chances
If you was romantic then blow me a kiss
Just be real from the jump cause you know I ain't rich
And of course I'm trying to touch some paper
But that don't gotta be what is up to date ya

Real Reason
I gotta be here for a real reason
Winter, spring, summer, fall. All season
Some will live; some will fall. Believe me
It's gotta get hard before it gets easy

Now I seen a lot of things in my lifetime
No Regis of millionaires, couldn't call for a lifeline
Getting out of the darkness, I'm letting my mic shine

Feel the inferno, feel how my words grow
From a seed planted deep in my soul
As a child I wanted to know more so I peeped through the holes
So now y'all should be peeping my flow
It's reality based
Lick the cold concrete and tell me how reality tastes
And why do salaries make the man
When that same man might not look you in the eye when he shakes your hand
That's a front like a door or the fakest tan
I look in the mirror, face the facts of life, and write it down
Treat my mic like the sharpest knife and slice my sound
I'm from Nike town in to so-called city of roses
But the job market's slow and there's public school closures

Rap Circles
I'll write the best verse ever down to the last word
Rip it up and write something the next day you never heard
Or thought of
Then you be like "Where'd he get those thoughts from?"
An author who's awkward
Laid back but on the mic a real talker

Where I live there's no palm trees, just the cold wind on your chin
My hair needs a cut
Never stayed at the Hilton but I heard Paris a slut
Knew a broke Nicole
But never a Richie
Plus life is far from simple, ya feel me?
Massage music, you gotta feel it
Bra boosting telling the secret Victoria's
Hip-hop historian
Lyrical librarian
Quiet on the set like you don't wanna miss what I'ma say

You see I'm pissed off from being pissed on
And my purpose if for you to see the picture
When I kick bars like inmates boxed in
There'll be no more questions on who spits hotness
No gossip the proof is in the pudding
Cause I'ma take it there where you know you wouldn't
Where you know you couldn't
Relentless never thinking that maybe I shouldn't
You see me, I get it done with my own rap sound
Attack a beat with authority and don't back down
Push myself to the limit, and won't pass out

Hungry Babies
I seen these snakes slither shedding their epidermis
Cutting deep without scissors attacking the system's nervous
Verses one on one and mano y mano
Similar sounds frequent cause they follow and follow

They say give me liberty or give me death
But the conditions that I'm living in got me stressed
Soldiers escape bomb to come home with hearts of bravery
Same skin color that would've had them forced to slavery
And from the news, moving target seems is what they're paid to be
It's so amazingly America is what they tell me
We're so fascinated with our own worldly relations
We fail to look inward and witness the deprivation
Along and it's hell
These are the times that breed sex, violence, drugs and monopolies as long as it sells
This should stimulate your memory, let it ring a bell

We got hungry babies
But still got a budget to fund our navy
We got hungry babies
But still got a budget to fund our spaceships
It's a dirty business
And our so-called leaders rub me suspicious
It's a dirty business
And our so-called system needs to scrub its dishes

News flash, meth watch, weather report
Crime families get caught, west of the north
They cook it with chemicals
Killing like cereal numbers abundance dependency
Cleaning out our pharmacies
Is harming the community
Ruins the appearance of children
Smoking alone, in a locked room of the building
Dirtiest drug, man made, chop something nasty
Amphetamine zombies wandering for more seeds
Rocked up
From household products