By C.M. Hammond
This shit is dope. I just want to say that right off the bat. Freetape 4: Renegade Rap is the fourth project in the Freetape series, where Free Hamze pairs up with one producer for a whole project, to make magic. This one is a collab with fellow Austin producer YoursTruuly, and it lives up to its title. Freetape 4 is an anti-imperial hustle manifesto ladened with equal parts unshakeable resolve and grief. The unlimited range of YoursTruuly’s beats provide the perfect canvas for Free to paint a landscape of emotional peaks and valleys as he navigates the complexities of his existence.
“Still” starts with an excerpt of Miles Davis in an interview, talking about a peer of his taking things to extremes. Was he referring to Free Hamze? Who’s to say? (note: Davis passed away several years before Free Hamze was born). Either way, I’mma assume the snippet is indicative of Free’s own temperament.
Then the beat comes in. The airy sample creates a breezy and serene atmosphere that feels like taking a stroll through a cloud. Free saunters on the beat with equally easygoing and melodic flows ‘bout flippin packs, unabashedly carving his own lane, and bein content with the life he’s created. If you’ve listened to Free Hamze, then you know this is his modus operandi. He’s BEEN on this tip and he’s STILL on this tip. “Still’ is a smooth intro track that showcases Free’s trademark swagger.
“I Can’t Lie” shows us the fatalistic side of Free Hamze. Free immerses himself in a somber and captivating beat as he speaks on feelings of hopelessness, the family he’s lost, and how all of this led him to trappin’. The depression Free raps about comes from the trauma of imperialism and white supremacy, havin been subjected to the evils of Isra-hell and the U.S. as a Lebanese immigrant who ended up in Austin, Texas.
It’s no wonder he’d seek freedom outside the conventions of society. Free Hamze’s hustler ethos is the result of his determination to change his circumstances by any means. This determination is shadowed by deep feelings of survivor’s guilt. More than anything, he longs to return home, for his people to be free, so he does what he can. But there’s an acute awareness that no matter how hard he hustles, it won’t fill the void left by the destruction of his home and a still-growing list of martyrs. It’s important to Free that we know this about him, because otherwise we could never understand him or his art.
We know now that there’s an ever-present sadness in Free. On “Two $idez” he shows us that grief can act as a catalyst that pushes you to revolutionary action. He’s joined by Locuust (rap moniker of YoursTruuly), on a track that serves as a battlecry. The intro consists of a Lebanese freedom fighter saying they’ll never be defeated as long as they keep their heads high. Then, Locuust comes in guns blazing, letting us know what the fuck she’s about. Her verse is a pithy denouncement of Zionism and the military-industrial complex. It’s colored by intricate rhyme schemes and clever metaphors, delivered with infectious zeal. Free starts his verse by asking a set of rhetorical questions that highlight the brokenness he feels- a brokenness that can only be combated by earnest self-expression and a commitment to resistance. He implores us to pick up arms in the fight against fascism ‘cause these hypocritical crackers ain’t gonna defeat themselves (tru).
There’s a fascinating synchronicity taking place here that I wanna elaborate on, so stick with me. The essence of the sample is a powerful, energizing swell of violins that sound like they’re from a Middle-Eastern composition. YoursTruuly and Free Hamze take that and flip it to make a Hip-Hop beat. A western art form created in response to the material conditions of oppressed (Black American & Caribbean/ Latino specifically) people in the west. That beat is then used to decry imperialism and the western powers that be. Every part of “Two $idez” works together to create a piece of art that demonstrates how the Palestinian struggle for freedom is directly linked to the struggle for freedom everywhere. Like… damn dawg. That’s poetic justice if I’ve ever seen it.
“Mirror World” featuring Chucky Blk and Locuust is the stand-out track for me. Together the 3 of them go fuckin bananas. The beat is beautifully haunting. It has its own gravity, like stars shimmering in the vast emptiness of space during the creation of the universe. Chucky Blk steps up to bat and expounds on that with a poetic verse that speaks of danger to come, creating yourself anew, and the arduousness of the task. He talks about how the birth of his daughter spurred his transformation, the satisfaction that’s come with it, and ancestral veneration. All of this is said with an air of defiant pride & joy in Chucky’s delivery, as he creates his own pockets in the (mirror) world of the beat. Free elaborates on Chucky’s sentiment that something is coming, a combination of natural disasters and man-made horrors that will strip us of our humanity. He draws lines between A.I. and the increasing violence of fascism. Free is nonetheless unfazed as he locks in on his art and revolutionary struggle, slightly annoyed you haven’t figured all this out yet.
It’s evident in his sobering tone and razor sharp flow. An internal locus of control guides him. The only man he’s concerned about is the one in the mirror. This level of focus makes him a threat to the powers that be. He coolly confirms they’re right to be afraid. The beat strips down to just woodwind. Locuust is there sipping tea, reading the leaves, finding solace in their guidance. Then the drums come back and she oscillates between hope & uncertainty in her journey of self-discovery in the context of increasing (mirror) worldly turmoil. She’s also seen what’s coming, and offers condolences. There’s a tension in her voice that captures the teeter-tottering of her orientation, and the verse is bolstered by her characteristic wordplay. Ultimately, she chooses to embrace hope and trust herself as we see how the story of our lives plays out. In a world where black, brown, and queer people are demonized for their very existence, this track shines. A mirror can only reflect what you bring to it, so they choose to bring their A-game.
On the song “Ouroboros”, Free Hamze brings us back to harrowing reality. Back once again to trappin, this time framed as a foregone conclusion. Like the sky being blue. Because he already knows that chasing desire will ultimately lead to his own demise… but we all need money. The fatalism from “I Can’t Lie” re-emerges, and Free confesses that even his dreams are wrought with grief (“I dream of processions/ And coffin parade/…. Tombstones of the martyrs/ With Surahs engraved”). Understandably, he’s too consumed by the sorrow of his circumstances to try to break the chain. Free’s M.O. to operate outside the status quo isn’t entirely from a desire to move different. The first rejection was western society’s failure and rejection of him. It makes me think of the African proverb “The child that is not embraced by the village will burn it down to feel its warmth”. Free’s knowledge of his contradictions can’t save him as he too becomes the Ouroboros, the snake that eats its own tail. Despite the seriousness of the subject matter, Free glides on this beat like a gritty paper airplane, and the hook is infectious. Wasteey Monroe follows Free on the track with a unique and provocative vocal performance, but the lack of lyrical content on the verse makes it feel out of place in the context of Renegade Rap. The feature feels more like two verses put on the same song than it does a collaboration.
“Gunpowder Spliffs” is the closing track, and a fitting goodbye to Freetape 4. It’s got a proper outro feel. YoursTruuly comes through with a soulful beat that starts with James Baldwin telling us that the kids want to live. Free hops on this joint emanating a melancholy optimism when he speaks, one that was forged in the blistering crucible of experience. The survivor’s guilt is still there, transformed into a source of motivation that no fascist could ever begin to fathom. He reaffirms his commitment to speaking truth to power. There’s a tenderness he reserves for the kids that we get a glimpse. Because he was one of those kids that Baldwin mentioned. One of those kids that wanted to live, and he has. He’s STILL here! Free Hamze lives in the songs he makes and in the hearts of anyone who hustles because they have to. Anyone who stands tall in the face of capitalism, white supremacy, and imperialism, the three-headed beast that looms over so many people. Nothing can stop him!
Free Hamze showcases a rare penchant for songcraft and a moving sincerity that can’t be duplicated by machine-learning or the uninitiated. YoursTruuly’s production honestly leaves me awestruck. The beat for “Mirror World” is one of the craziest joints I’ve heard in a minute. Her occasional features as Locuust also poignantly add a layer of depth to the tapestry that they weaved together. Freetape 4: Renegade Rap is a must-listen project for anyone with a goddamn heart. So give it a listen if you haven’t, or repeat listen if you have! No number rating ‘cause that shit is for chumps.
Listen to Freetape 4: Renegade Rap here now:
ROUNDHOUSE MUSIC 