And even though Dre gave us no such album, I return to Chronic 2001 every now and then. People are always surprised I have such a soft spot for the thing. It's true, I'm no rap fan. But each and every song has a silly but belonging to me memory of the first summer when chilled the eff out and started having fun in my life. For a girl who'd never felt cool, there was something great about cruising around sunny Vegas in Gia's black BMW with the roof open to that soundtrack.
Sure, there are less than perfect rhymes. Rappers have always taken liberties. But it's easy to forget with all the pampered Kanyes out there ('Isotoner' and 'told ya' do not rhyme, thank you.) that some truly good rhymes were at one time thriving. Rhymes a patter lyricist could appreciate. The tightly packed lines.
And yes, the misogyny still blows my hair back. If anything, it's only worse. Like, wow. But then, it also puts women singers and rapper like Mary J. Blige & Ms. Roq in star roles. And they give as good as they get.
Or maybe my recent affinity for the album is to do with the trouble maker in me who loves to just play it at a party here, or put it on in a bar and watch the Scots look massively uncomfortable.
Yeah, I would have loved a Chronic 2011 reboot, and who knows, maybe they're planning a 20th reboot of 1992's The Chronic.... but in lieu of that, and in a complete surprise move, Snoop & Dre are headlining the last day of Coachella. What! And now, I'm thinking of extending my 30th birthday stay in Vegas to include the crazy/wonderful festival I haven't been to since 2005. Who's with me?
I may have opted for a more refined life in Great Britain, but I was born in the LBC.
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