In the end, it was only right that DMXâs public funeral would be a Very Special Sunday Service. As pointed out in
GQâs obituary, DMX put God in radio singles and No. 1 albums well before Kanye West did it with âJesus Walksââthe prayers scattered across his albums, guest features, and live shows (including one he memorably lent to Coachella Sunday Service just two years ago) were often just as forceful, commanding and dazzling as his 16s. It was fitting then, for Kanye to bring his Black church tableau, wherein he re-works hip-hop, house, and R&B staples into gospel hymns, to the Barclays Center for DMXâs send-off.
The late rapper Earl DMX Simmons was my John the Forerunner
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DMX was my John the Forerunner
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DMX wrote his own obituary more than two decades ago: “Slippin’,” a single from his second album, 1998’s
Flesh of My Flesh, Blood of My Blood, tells the story of a boy with afflictions who transformed himself into a rap star. The song starts with a psalm about suffering, then X shares his biography in three heartbreaking verses: His mom was abusive, his dad abandoned him, and he was forced into group homes and institutions. The people who should have loved him failed to protect him, so he found himself “possessed by the darker side,” bound to a cycle of drug dependence and insufficient rehab. Fame changed his life, but not in many of the ways that mattered.
All I Feel Is Rain Remembering DMX The crucial rap artist passed away over the weekend.
DMX, once told photographer Matthew Salacuse that in order to speak to the people, you must walk with the people.
The legendary Yonkers MC, who
died on April 9th aged just 50, ambushed a shiny-suited, Cristal-drenched rap game left hollow by the murders of Tupac Shakur and Notorious B.I.G. Like a hungry junkyard dog, his fierce approach tore chunks out of the ostentatious, big money flexing typical of many of his contemporaries.
After a near-decade of false starts and unsigned hype, a pair of guttural, incendiary verses on posse cuts â4,3,2,1â and â24 Hours to Liveâ introduced listeners to Def Jamâs explosive new talent, shaking down the scene in the process. Flanked by a pair of barrel-chested Pitbulls, X was coming for all your shit, and there wasnât a damn thing you could do about it. âTook it then we split it / you fuckin righ