OUTASIGHT – Never Say Never mixtape (LRG)
ZERO STARS OUT OF FIVE
Over the course of this bloated, wildly unnecessary piece of hip-hop-clothing-line-sponsored promotional ephemera, Outasight manages, against all odds, to shit out one magical golden egg of inadvertent retard-savant wisdom: there are some people in the world who are simply not worth wasting your breath on. They are such privileged, deluded, highly moneyed, ego-drenched cocksuckers that they will never, ever listen to what you have to say, even if it is true, no matter how you put it. The only solution to dealing with these people is to ignore them–allow them to continue to “do them” as you continue to “do you.” This singular tenet is clearly what has defined Outasight’s existence; there’s no other plausible explanation that could possibly be given for this dude managing to cut open the pants pocket of somebody in the record industry (debut album coming from Warner/Asylum in 2011!) and steal a bunch of their money.
OUTASIGHT – Never Say Never mixtape (LRG)
ZERO STARS OUT OF FIVE
Over the course of this bloated, wildly unnecessary piece of hip-hop-clothing-line-sponsored promotional ephemera, Outasight manages, against all odds, to shit out one magical golden egg of inadvertent retard-savant wisdom: there are some people in the world who are simply not worth wasting your breath on. They are such privileged, deluded, highly moneyed, ego-drenched cocksuckers that they will never, ever listen to what you have to say, even if it is true, no matter how you put it. The only solution to dealing with these people is to ignore them–allow them to continue to “do them” as you continue to “do you.” This singular tenet is clearly what has defined Outasight’s existence; there’s no other plausible explanation that could possibly be given for this dude managing to cut open the pants pocket of somebody in the record industry (debut album coming from Warner/Asylum in 2011!) and steal a bunch of their money.
But wait, what about the music, man? Glad you asked. Let me put it as succinctly as I can—as if it wasn’t insulting enough to be expected to earnestly bump this entry into the “Homogenous White-Dude Robo-R&B” rat race, to co-sign on it with a shit eating grin just because the former manager of Mobb Deep is involved… No, on top of all that, this VH1-“You Oughta Know,” strip mall coffeehouse open-mic busking rich-boy motherfucker is so desperate for an identity of his own and so drunkenly empowered on label money that he boldly attempts reappropriating Dylan’s “Tom Thumb’s Blues” a quarter of the way through this digital disaster.
You know what? Nevermind, Outasight; you just do you, shorty, and I’m gonna do me, and right now that means reading comprehensive reviews of double-barreled shotguns. I’ll just let you guess why, and you can let me know your guess in six to eight weeks, when we bump into each other at Starbucks. I mean, outside of Starbucks. Haha!
