An Abridged Breakdown of Houston Club Music (NSFW)

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On any given Friday night, Bayou Place is absolutely packed.

The club located in the heart of the theater district has split itself into four separate rooms and accommodates about as many patrons as tailgaters in the Reliant parking lot at a Texans game. Everyone shows up, everyone parties, everyone leaves with a story to tell.

On any night, resting along the walls of the club will allow you to hear some of the city's best music that either hasn't crossed over to the radio or lives in blog infamy on social media. Case in point, BeatKing's overly rowdy take on a recent incident involving a bus driver and a female passenger. The rapper's entire catalog, save for a few years when he was attempting to be the next big man-rapper with heavy substance, has been crafted in this manner -- whatever happens in the club or in pop culture, he flips around and crafts into a song.

Simplifying matters should be a more appreciated form of genius. As often as we bastardize certain aspects of hip-hop and how there is some sort of invisible divide between Houston acts in general, appreciation of the many subgenres that make up Houston should be warranted.


Fat Pimp, "Roll Me Up"

Take in account the presence of the likes of BeatKing, DJ Chose and many others who have run with the notion of making strictly "club" music with appeal isolated towards women, dancefloor and humor filled call-and-response that its as fluid as Phil Jackson and Tex Winters installing The Triangle.

Texas club music is built around the same aspects that made Miami bass popular, Atlanta's crunk scene and its validity in the strip club. Crass, rude and ultimately powerful enough to evoke emotion.

Its chief architects now? Mr. Wired Up, Sherro, Fat Pimp, and to a certain extent Hoodstar Chantz, since his most vociferous records tend to balance between sapid and head-knocking. All the shit talking on Before the Fame confirmed this.

"Hit 'em with that Hammer," BeatKing consistently repeats. Dance records such as Fat Pimp's "Rack Daddy" float in the same consciousness as records sitting on neighborhood recognition, pride and general adulation. It echoes rather quickly, "Let's go to work!" before running on a sparse horn and drum section. What pleasures drive people, plain and simple -- are what makes these songs become memorable.

Most have noticed with relative ease that every rapper making the same layered structure with intricate rhymes and catchy instrumentals won't make it. It's pure Darwinism. Some evolve into making the kind of cuts that last with you forever and some just make the cuts that stick with you for the moment. Those who live in the moment? Should obviously celebrate it.

WARNING: video on next page NSFW.


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