are countless reasons that Slaine has crushed the Boston rap game
like a Budweiser can. For one, he tells the sort of bleak Boston
tales that weren't always illustrated in hip-hop – stories about
spots like Southie and Roslindale, which reek of their own unique
stench. As important, though, is that Slaine hasn't alienated the
rest of Hub hip-hop in the process – whether that means cats from
Roxbury and Dorchester, or artists from outside of the immediate city
like Termanology in Lawrence, or NBS and Lou Armstrong in Cambridge.
If I tried to write about every one of the 30-or-so rappers set to collectively slap Unity Fest at The Paradise next Thursday, I wouldn’t have time to fuck around on Facebook and Twitter all day. It would also be a waste of time considering how much I’ve already written about so many of the marquee artists.