[sxsw2012] First Night with My Old South-By Standbys Dubb Sicks and Homeboy Sandman

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NOTE: Badass Live Show Pics (of these dudes and many, many others) Coming Soon...

My whole plan down here was – and still is, for the most part – to discover new hip-hop. Particularly hip-hop that doesn't suck, and that will get me away from relying on Spotify and its endless rap oldies to get me stiff. However – this is SXSW after all, and there are a few spectacles that I needed to glimpse and get out of the way before all of that craziness commenced.

The first attraction is Dubb Sicks, who just today was voted the fifth best MC by the Austin Chronicle. If you've ever smelled my coverage of this carnival before, then you know this man. He's a degenerate extraordinaire, capable of leaping giant lines of cocaine with a single straw. And dude is also one of my favorite rappers; if you think some bullshit gold chain noise from the “dirty” represents the true aesthetic down here, you're wrong. That's Dubb's department.

Depraved as ever, Dubb mounted the stage at Bat Bar on Sixth Street for a pre-music festival blast off. He threw fake money in the crowd. He brought women up on stage and romanced their faces. He farted. But most of all, he rapped his Odessa dick off. There are few MCs anywhere who can rock a show like Dubb, and even those who do fail to leave behind a comparable stain on center stage.

My other must-see every year – for the last few, at least – is Homeboy Sandman. He's someone who I write about endlessly, and that's for a good reason – there's no better rapper out right now. Dude's a tongue-twister and a thinker, not to mention a one man army with the live shit. Jaws drop when he spreads his wings. I'm pretty sure that a few women in the audience were impregnated by his speech alone last night. There's no morning after pill for that.

Boy Sand is on Stones Throw now, which is kind of more than a big deal. Last night they put him right near the top of the bill – second only to the legendary Strong Arm Steady crew, who also ripped – and man oh man did he justify the placement. With Peanut Butter Wolf holding two mics to Boy Sand's melon, the Queens prodigy extraordinaire entered with a hallmark a cappella, then went in for the thrill.

Of course this isn't like a few years ago, when Boy Sand was wowing the fuck out of unsuspecting rap fans. Heads last night by and large knew what they were in for, which turned out, for the most part, to be a badass spread of straight winners from his excellent 2010 disc, The Good Sun, and Homeboy's recent debut Stones Throw EP, Subject Matter.

Maybe I shouldn't have gone about things this way. Perhaps I should have kept the bar low, so that I might be impressed with some young cat's song about railing soccer moms on a neon WaveRunner. But it's too late for that now. New acts seeking SXSW press from my old ass beware: I like everything from southern rappers straight out of the trailer park, to enlightened New York cats with fast rhymes and a progressive sense of justice. Anything outside of those tight parameters just won't do.

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