On Summertime ’06 

Vince Staples Summertime 06

From samples, to interpolations, to autobiographical lyrics, the past is an integral part of how hip-hop is made. When it comes to the main narratives in hip-hop, the stories rappers tell about themselves, this ingrained relationship with the past has often resulted in tales of redemption: Kendrick Lamar escapes the “m.a.a.d.” city, Biggie gets a Sega Genesis, Ice Cube finally has a good day. On his debut double album Summertime ‘06, Vince Staples doesn’t find redemption. For him the past isn’t a distant memory, a road he can finally drive down after a long, tiring walk. Vince Staples sees the past as the horizon of his future, a roundabout in which he can change lanes but never exit.

Though Summertime ‘06 is timestamped by its title, Staples freely weaves in and out of his past and present. On “Lift Me Up” he’s performing for legions of fickle white fans in Paris; on “Norf Norf” he’s lamenting that Long Beach has never seen any of Obama’s mythical “change”; on “Hang ’N Bang” he’s on the corner Crippin’. These leaps through time can be jarring, but Vince’s inconsistency isn’t the result of sloppiness. When it comes to setting the scene, Vince isn’t concerned with concrete details like what music he was bumping or the clothes he was rocking in 2006. He’s more concerned with mood. Summertime ‘06 isn’t a time period; it’s a perspective, an angle for processing the world.

Vince’s perspective is unapologetically dense. The album begins with “Ramona Park Legend Pt 1,” which features the sounds of a beach: waves crashing on the shore, seagulls yelping in the sky, stillness all around. A bluesy wail briefly trickles in the background, but moments later it’s greeted by menacing percussion, circling in the water like a shark. But even the shark isn’t the real menace. The song ends with an oblique gunshot, the true apex predator. This isn’t any beach. It’s Long Beach, the “end of the land with the surf and the sand,” as Vince tersely describes it on “Jump off the Roof.” Vince sees Long Beach in stark detail, recognizing and repping both the symbolic beauty and destruction of a beach, the calm waters and the threatening waves.

This mixture of beauty and danger and pride permeates the album. Staples regularly shouts out his old haunts – Ramona Park, Poppy Street, Artesia Boulevard, 65th Street – freely admitting that he’s done dirt on all of them. These are the places where he was made, places where he’s witnessed and facilitated death and ruin. But Vince doesn’t want to be forgiven, to be seen as having made it. “Fuck gangsta rap,” he snarkily says on “Norf Norf.”

He seems to mean it. “Dopeman,” a hazy song driven by droning synths, doesn’t make drug dealing sound particularly fun. Expert murmurer Kilo Kish chants “I don’t need a gun just to melt a nigga brain/ When I pull up to the slums with a quarter key of ‘caine.” Staples barks out a brief and manic verse, stretching out his words as if his brain too has been altered by the drugs he’s dealing. Even “Street Punks” a threatening song about credibility, puts a damper on gang life. “You ain’t ever caught a body/Know it cause you talkin’ bout it,” Staples coldly raps, more as a warning than a boast.

Amidst the stone-faced shooting and selling dope, Vince spends a lot of time contemplating love. “Lemme Know,” a breezy song that features Jhene Aiko, radiates  lust. On it, Aiko and Staples wear their desire on their sleeve, coyly purring out three dual verses together. But though they address each other as lovers, their words are full of taunts and warnings, imminent danger. On “Loca,” the love is just as palpable, but the danger is more explicit, with Vince quickly moving from seduction to demanding loyalty. “Would your courtroom lie for a nigga?” he asks his new lover with utter seriousness. As much as he contemplates and feels love, Vince refuses to detach it from his day-to-day life in the streets.

For “Summertime” Vince goes solo, crooning in autotune about a love he deeply wants but doubts is possible. The song is hard to listen to. The autotune sharpens Vince’s voice rather than smoothing it, making his typically nasally delivery gravelly. But that seems to be the point. Even when Vince is fully immersed in his emotions, his skin is still hardened by the Crip-blue waters of Long Beach.

Not everything on Summertime ‘06 works well. “Might Be Wrong,” which features singing from James Fauntleroy and a spoken word verse from Haneef Talib, who delivers his verse from prison, has its heart in the right place but it doesn’t quite fit. Its melodramatic synths and Fauntleroy’s singing are a bit too straightforward for the complex, dense atmosphere that producers No I.D., DJ Dahi, and Clams Casino have carefully curated throughout the album. The bluesy track “C.N.B” also stands out. Vince runs through a laundry list of politicized topics – gentrification, victimization, cultural appropriation – but nothing gets fully washed. Some topics demand more than a perspective.

That said, Vince Staples’ perspective is frequently fresh. Avoiding the moral high ground, he freely roams the seedy lowlands, making unflattering observations about himself, his home, and the world that made them both without resorting to soul-cleansing self-flagellation (like Kendrick Lamar) or lung-collapsing chest thumping. It’s not always an easy listen – Vince seems to enjoy street life as much as he abhors it, gleefully loading his gun just as often as he mourns his friends who have taken bullets. This moral ambiguity results in hip-hop that probably won’t please the activists or the sociologists or the Rap Geniuses, but that’s fine. For Vince Staples, hip-hop isn’t about pleasure. It’s about unflinching realism, the kind that redemption, with its happy endings and moral clarity, isn’t equipped to handle.

The past has never looked as ugly and unflattering as it has in Vince Staples’ hands, but the thrill of this dogged realism is that he also manages to make it look beautiful. There just might be some truth in nostalgia.

Thoughts on Being and Time

Before reading any further, I need you to watch this video. It is ten minutes long, but is is well worth your time (ha). Like me, you probably won’t agree with some of the content, but it’s pretty stimulating visually, so you’ll deal.

First, I want to just say that this idea of time perspective is really fascinating. I’ve honestly never considered how important an awareness of time might be during the process of decision-making. I always saw decision-making as a microeconomic process, one in which the only variables were perceived costs and perceived benefits. After watching that video, I feel ridiculous for not having recognized that time is also a factor in this process.

Nevertheless, I think that the video overestimates time perspective’s role in our lives. This overestimation is really apparent in the “disaster recipe” that the speaker mentions. This “dangerous” recipe allegedly consists of too many video games, too little social interaction and an immeasurable amount of internet porn. On one hand, I think that this recipe has some truth to it. In high school, I had classes with dudes who were just inconceivably bad students. They secretly played pokemon during class, they had nude pictures of impossibly endowed anime women on their phones (or sometimes they printed them out and carried them in binders) and although they could speak extensively on why Cloud was a better protagonist than Squall, they were wholly unable to discuss current events. Also, of course, they were almost always super terrible with women. According to the video, all of these behaviors can be traced back to that recipe. That’s silly. Time perspective is not the reason that high school dropout rates are so high. It is a reason among myriad others.

I also don’t buy the assertion that we stop being hedonists after childhood. Even when we delay our gratification, we’re still hoping that it one day gets fulfilled. Most people probably get more satisfaction out of things after they have been delayed. And I bet that there are even people who find pleasure in delaying pleasure.

Finally, my real beef with the video comes from the fact that it asserts that all people are rigidly fixed in one time perspective. This is very untrue. People not only oscillate between time perspectives, but hold various perspectives concurrently. In the case of the “present-hedonistic” girl that had unprotected sex and got pregnant, who’s to say that she had no intricate future plans? Maybe she had an academic scholarship to Duke or Princeton. Maybe she went out with friends only once a month and believed in heaven. Why does her decision to have unprotected sex have to mean that she’s no longer future-oriented? Furthermore, what person is so future-oriented that s/he never acts for the present? Certainly not someone who I [want to] know.

In the end, I really like the ideas of the video, but they’re just too simple(and slyly conservative). The creator(s) should have taken the time to put some deeper thought into their claims. Still, interesting stuff. Thanks for your time.