Here’s something I wrote in the middle of my latest review post for Mindless Ones, in which I talked about a couple of comics I didn’t like and one that I did:
Is this really what I want to aspire to though? Something that reminds me of something I liked before and might therefore conceivably enjoy again, if I put the work in? Apparently I can’t pretend that I’m immune to the appeal of this stuff, but that doesn’t stop me from wanting more than either Multiversity: Guidebook or Earth 2 have to offer.
If you swapped the names in that paragraph out for “Your Old Droog” and “Action Bronson”, and replaced the idea of putting work in with “trying not to think about race” then you’d have a fairly accurate record of how their works hit me.
Droog and Bronson don’t have much in common beyond their home town and a love of shit-talk. Bronson blends baroque culinary references with absurd descriptions of his physical prowess. Don’t get me wrong, the big guy’s got some moves, but songs like ‘Rare Chandeliers’ see him pulling off spectacular combos that would make Jackie Chan feel like captain inadequate:
Backflips off the ledge, hang-glide off the roof
Land on one leg, see me all up on the front page
Holding a pump gauge, ready to dump, aim
At your nuts, like the mouth of a whore
Somersault Cadillac on the door
Bronson’s voice is high pitched, needling, and his flow is punctuated by moments where his voice drops, breathless at the end of a sentence as he comes crashing through safe wall or some other shit. There’s no getting around it: he sounds like Ghostface Killah.
Your Old Droog, meanwhile, raps in a low growl, snapping hard on the internal rhymes, referencing ’90s rock bands, only pausing to dare you to call him out for it:
Back in the line of fire
Sayin’ my style’s dated is like checkin’ to see if wine expired
Salut, thought of that bar in the car
Cheffin’ up in the truck like halal food
Got them raps for you, I ain’t talkin’ gyros
Get on the mic and spit that porno for pyros
There’s no getting around it: he sounds like Nas.