Remember Mr. Wired Up (Oh Boy)'s Inside My Mind?
Houston's history is dotted with albums that, fairly or not, have been swept aside. We'll examine them here. Have an album that you think nobody knows about but should?
Despite having gained some traction near the middle of last decade with "Put it In The Air," Mr. Wired Up (Oh Boy) is still, in terms of general popularity, mostly an unknown. What you need to know about him: He is a Southside Houston rapper with a supernatural knack for bending party-rap tracks into a likeable near-substantiality. Nobody in the city, and likely the region, does it as well as he does.
Inside My Mind is his debut album. There are a five skippable tracks: The "Intro," where he explains the album title by saying things like, "I'm just fitna give y'all a taste"; "Let's Have a Party," which pens in Wired Up's stylized effervescence; "Role Reversal," which appears to actively work at being clever; "Say Yeah," which doesn't get good until the Trey Songzian chorus is fleshed out fully in the back third of the song; and "Somebody Like You," as close to a Boyfriend track as Wired Up has ever made.
Beyond those, the remaining 15 songs rate between Good, Great and Exceptional. Inside My Mind is a rare thing: An album whose best parts are, in an absolutely positive way, derived from the perpetually maligned Club Rap subsection. It will almost certainly rate among the year's best this coming December.
Y'allmustaforgotability: 88 percent
Most Unexpected Sample on the Album on the Album You Shouldn't Be Surprised By: The spine of "All That Hating" is a mechanized version of the oft-used Isley Brothers' hit "Between The Sheets." Nobody has ever utilized that song more admirably than Biggie, but nobody has ever looked bad on it either. It's like being a team with Michael Jordan; you're going to be a winner by association, even if you're goddamn Jud Buechler.
Most Unexpectedly Enjoyable Moment on the Album: There is a song on the album called "Bad Bitch Anthem." Theoretically, any song called any variation of "Bad Bitch Anthem" should be pitiful. But this one isn't. Matter of fact, it somehow makes Wired Up even more admirable. In it, he manages the impossible feat of turning the potentially deplorable bar "I'm a Facebook poker/ Pussy so wet, I call her Super Soaker" into an astute and critical observation.