If hip-hop history has taught us anything, it would be that amidst a deluge of talent a unique voice always seems to arise. Enter, Azad Right, emerging through the refracted prism of beats and rhymes with an unfamiliar disparate viewpoint. There’s always that one emcee that should have made the cover of XXL’s freshmen class issue. The one with the surprising You Tube numbers, leaving major label A&Rs to play a fervent game of catch-up. The one who’s just a step away from the entire world knowing his name and dominating the charts with a mesmerizing rhyme scheme. It’s safe to say that
Azad Right fits the description. The self-proclaimed California wordsmith set to release his sophomore mixtape, For The Hopeful , flaunts robust production by Jonathan Marquez, Professor O, Cazzafura and others.
For The Hopeful is a brilliant narrative detailing the onset of Azad’s intense love for hip-hop, “For the Hopeful was inspired by the musical elements of A Tribe Called Quest, the artistic integrity of Illmatic, and the storytelling of Reasonable Doubt. It is reflective of everything that made me fall in love with hip-hop,” says Azad. This album is a deliberate, instense tapestry detailing Azad’s formidable entrance into the game – rebellion and all.
Firing off with “Now I Know” produced by Jonathan Marquez, Azad accuses some in the music industry of being parasitic, particularly those who hyped him up as having “next” but when the thermometer dropped a few degrees, their impatience for new music caused them to dip. On the forthcoming second single “6:30”, the
bonus cut produced by Cazzafura, Azad demonstrates unwavering stamina leading to triumph, while others miss their window of opportunity. Ever telling a story, “All My Love,” we listen as Azad weaves three tales detailing the various ways that unconditional love can affect people. The inspirational track called “Hope,” features vocalist Lexy Panterra, and functions as the album’s unofficial thematic centerpiece. On “Old School,” he gives imaginary play-by-play accounts of his life and times with his pop culture heroes of eras past. “I talk about everything from playing the guitar with Jimi Hendrix and watching Michael Jackson moonwalk in 1988 to me and Chaka Khan’s affinity for Michael Jordan before he blew up.” Azad confidently announces his arrival as the new prince of the hip-hop freshmen class, on the track “Hello”; laden with a bass heavy, head-nodding beat, flaunting a sample from Todd Rundgren’s 1972 radio classic “Hello, It’s Me.”
In 2011, Azad released his EP A Piece Of Mine. One track from the EP in particular, “Spiderwebs,” connected with the blogosphere and college audiences immediately, amassing over 600k Youtube views. Fast on the heels of the reception from the EP, Azad released his debut full length The Time Is Right that fall. It wasn’t long before the album created a maelstrom of interest from the blogosphere, national radio stations, and major label A&R’s alike. Not looking to be “crafted” by major label A&R’s, Azad decided he would bet on himself to refine the artist development aspect of his career, nail the best image and sound and build his fan base one song at a time before entering the majors.
Amidst real and perceived obstacles, Azad continues to forge ahead. In the world of modern urban music, there isn’t much that hasn’t been portrayed, embodied or talked about in a fresh way, and an artist’s narrative is what makes him or her either intriguing or dismissible. Every once in awhile, someone comes into the game with a new perspective, offering an interesting slant on the culture taking the opportunity to influence music lovers from a unique vantage point. Over the course of hip hop history, that claim has been made by many a rapper, but tell me if you’ve heard this before: a Venice, California native, son of a blind international renowned Iranian poet, who grew up playing both the piano and violin, faced high school expulsion over a mixtape diss track, put his musical ambitions on hold to complete his education and graduate college with a Bachelor’s degree in Political Science? Enter Azad Right.
“When I was in high school, my teacher had us write a letter to ourselves that she was going to mail to us after we graduated. When I got the letter back it said, ‘By now, you should have your poetic license and doing whatever makes you happy.”