Thoughts On Gucci
Originally posted on my blog, wordplaycrazy, November 2020.
I like Gucci Mane. I’d say he’s between my third and fifth favorite rappers of all time. However, he is definitely my most frequently listened to rapper. Scant a day passes without me listening to at least a half hour of Gucci. I have no clue who wins tomorrow (or tonight by the time this final draft is done). It is a battle of contrasts and how you decide what makes a successful Versus. If you value radio hits above all else, then you would probably side with Jeezy. If it is street classics, then Gucci. So in that essence it is a toss up.
For the uninitiated, it would seem to be an easy win for Jeezy, the more popular and well-known rapper (nationally at least). However, for Gucci fans, it’s in the boogeyman’s myth as much as anything as for why we feel he will win. His music is both Joker and Bane, bizarre and brutal, that left an indelible mark.
If one song can encapsulate what Gucci, Gucci the absurd, is its Dope Boys off Burrprint (if album/mixtape names are part of the Versus, that title goes to Gucci. They are all a delight). The beat is carnivalesque, blaring and sneering with this baroque like production. The pace is frenetic, ebbing and flowing in a chaotic descent. The opening lines tell you all about how Gucci sees himself in rap; “All Nas need is one mic/ all i need is one stove/ homie got a nice flow/ but Gucci got that white coat”. Gucci isn’t a rapper so much as a villain, preening for the world with a snarl, unapologetic of his outsider status.
In contrast, Swing My Door is a technical manual in drug dealing. It sounds like a nightmare, with Gucci hypnotically detailing each action, cadence full of husk over a thud of an 808. He sounds like the grim reaper, rapping in a trance, sounding inflected with PTSD as he recalls his past life. Consequences in his world are dealt with swiftly and abruptly; “Rob me/6 feet in the dirt you bout to go/layin with the coroner/ with a tag placed on your toe.” It is a detached anthem, a surgical itinerary of dope peddling, delivered with an icy growl.
Jeezy was corporate backed and given a stamp of approval from rap luminaries like Jay Z. Gucci was off to the side, burrowing deeper into this sinister netherworld full of off the beaten path producers and artists, each collaboration more jarring than the last. This hodgepodge of characters was decidedly different from the popular, curated co-signs of mainstream rappers.
Each Gucci song would always carry this hint of doom and armageddon, the end seeming to be ever present. This often mirrored the madness in his personal life and eventually sent him behind bars. He later re-emerged from prison as the sober, more law-abiding Gucci we see now and we (and he) are probably better for it. But that Gucci from 06 to 12, is where his myth was made. He was someone who seemed to exist perpetually in this whirlwind of chaos and palpable paranoia. No matter who wins, it should be a good battle for Atlanta.
(I say Gucci in 7 #EAZ6)
