Homeboy Sandman is one of one. That’s hella redundant because he already knows this, and has referenced it many hundreds of times throughout his sprawling, breezy and often genius-grade catalog. Like too many basic bitch hip hop heads online, I had doubts about this cat at first, back where the Blog Era overlapped with the Bush Era, but he proved all of us wrong and then just … kept running laps and doing cool stunts on the quad. His love of the game is over a decade past questioning. Right?
Funny enough, I vividly recall NPR Americans having a lot of questions about Homeboy Sandman, back when the world went insane in 2020. It was an ugly reminder of how pathethic the parasocial relationship of fandom really is. Audiences will kill their darlings in a heartbeat, and for what? The same spark of contrarian, creative intellect that made you fans in the first place? You elevate artists for feats beyond your grasp, then get angry when you find out those same outsiders don’t share your consumer politics? It’s a wild stupid era, but then, most of them have been so far.
There is a higher tradition that exists outside of any & every fashion cycle. Like Open Mike Eagle, like Kool Keith, like Aceyalone, like Godfather Don, like Lupe Fiasco, like Gift of Gab, the Actual Factual Pterodactyl is immediately identifiable on any beat. The other clutch similarity is that none of them ever seem to run out of new ideas. It’s a rare thing to become a cinematic universe all your own off words & music, but many suckers try!
Boy Sand is crazy prolific, and I won’t pretend to keep to up. As with most rappers, even those I enjoy, I am years behind on listening through his catalog. Having spent an evening catching up this weekend, I have to say he’s continuing to improve & surprise. There were no weak links in what I heard.
This “Meant To Be” joint, however, is solid gold. This is prime Homeboy Sandman, skating on that shirogami edge between laid back and cold killing it. It is also dumb wholesome shit, in the best sense: he truly does want the best for you, me and everybody we know. I sympathize with anyone who finds that corny, but it’s genuine, too. There are far worse problems than being earnest.
Similar to “The Carpenter,” this here is a catchy, fever dream hit single that only this particular human could possibly make. That kind of telepathy, to me, is the purpose of the genre and the crux of why I love great rap. The video is pretty sweet, too. Art Morera has a gift for both composition and pacing; this is an impeccable final print. In light of so much excellence converging, for the second time this week, I have no choice but to grant this Five Dickies.
