Some rappers take ages to curate an image, and then there is Spoony-B, whose response to all this artistic branding, to me, seems to have been-well, what if I just sound like a public safety risk? And yes, that is part of the enjoyment.
The South Philly rapper (born Brandon Baich) is an artist who defines himself through the unexpected, the uncensored and, frankly, the absurd. His bio for starters boasts about escaping morbid obesity, surviving four car accidents and struggling for seven years to quit smoking; in other words, it consists of content that could support several albums, or at least one particularly unsettling autobiographical book. Often, the subject matter merely becomes a hoverboard; it could be said that it represents a contemporary spin on Lupe Fiasco’s Kick Push. “99 Apples” finds a home among this content.
This commitment to the weirdly specific is something difficult to manufacture on a massive scale-in fact, on his promo information, they even compare the rapper’s voice to “the really stressed cousin of Slim Shady,” before essentially advising us to keep an eye on him. It is obviously clearly a joke, but it gives you a decent heads-up about the package you’re in for.
Spoony-B is certainly aware of hip-hop’s love affair with mythological excess. You invent a character, exaggerated personas are employed, and suddenly everyone is clearly a threat of some kind to everyone they meet in their neighborhood. Unlike taking this mythology too seriously, he seems content to laugh about the absurdity of it all while simultaneously making himself the punchline.
This awareness is important because, beneath the silliness, there is something undeniably relatable.
Several car crashes, smoking addiction, obesity, dating struggles – none of this is particularly comedic on its own. But Spoony-B has managed to transform his life struggles into comedic fodder instead of something depressing, such as something his biographers have pointed out about his life since overcoming the aforementioned challenges-he’s not posing as a flawless persona; instead, he presents a character who has made repeated ill-advised choices and seemingly discovered this means to both survive and also record a mixtape.
In this light, “99 Apples” is less of an assertion of how cool Spoony-B is and more of another extension of his unique chaos.This would obviously not be the appropriate choice for someone expecting something technically proficient, clean-cut, or generally cautious.
However, if you’re looking for an artist who appears comfortable in his own weird skin, Spoony-B offers an enjoyable listen. After all, the most effective artistic persona may just be knowing exactly how strange you truly are and doing something great with it.
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About the Author
A tenured media critic known working as a ghost writer, freelance critic for various publications around the world, the former lead writer of review blogspace Atop The Treehouse and content creator for Manila Bulletin.
