LiKWUiD’s “Fay Grim” Bridges Hip-Hop Gaps With Style and Substance

Hip-hop, much like journalism and politics, has become so expansive that it is no longer able to be placed in any kind of box.

Journalism — the “media” — has often been co-opted by those who would feed off of confusion, feeding the very hype beast that delivers the clicks — and by extension, ill-gotten revenue — leaving a trail of misinformed citizens in their wake.

Politics has, in many ways, followed suit, riding the wave of misinformation through the use of reality-TV-styled tactics, propaganda and an unhealthy dose of racist and xenophobic fearmongering.

The result of those two institutions crossing paths is the chaos we are now witnessing at our country’s highest (or lowest) level of government.

Hip-hop has also been smacked, flipped and unceremoniously rubbed down from its idealistic nature — that of peace, love, unity and having fun — as capitalistic culture vultures have long ago run those who protected hip-hop’s cultural integrity out of the mainstream game.

Yet, among the unqualified and unscrupulous in these arenas, a few still shine.

They are the journalists risking arrest at an inauguration in Washington D.C. or at pipeline protests in North Dakota.

On the political front, there are many who are similarly struck by the insanity that has enveloped our national scene, who are helping ignite the movement to #resist. They might be Democrats in Congress, or local officials, or mosquito-like advocates and protesters who are not allowing their voices to be drowned out.

Perhaps they are the NEXT to engage with the system on a political level, inspired to action by the cringeworthy moves that were made mere days into the new presidency.

On the hip-hop tip, certain fans of rap music lament the idea that hip-hop music of substance is a thing of the past, alive only in the memories of those who lived during the genre’s Golden Era.

But in the same way that some are engaging the political system and outlets and individual reporters and media outlets are still doing the necessary job of speaking truth to power, there are in fact a slew of artists who are informing, educating and enlightening, with more traditional hip-hop DNA traveling through their musical veins.

This is a surprisingly tough concept to get through to those who might be older, or set in their listening ways, who tend to judge their perception of the quality of modern rap music largely on what they might randomly hear on the radio.

LiKWUiD has been, for years, proving this close-minded analysis wrong by consistently delivering thoughtful, well-constructed manna from hip-hop heaven, delivering a solid mix of braggadocio sprinkled with social commentary — a concept cracking the preconceived notion that “there’s no good hip-hop anymore.”

Indeed, LiKWUiD is part of a growing consortium of woman in hip-hop who are being recognized for disproving the idea that women in the genre can only succeed as ratchet TV drama queens, Instagram modelvixens or MC sex-slingers.

Not only breaking that perception, LiKWUiD manages to bridge another often-discussed hip-hop cultural chasm. With her past projects, and again with Fay Grim — a full-on collaboration with NYC-based production team 2 Hungry Bros. — LiKWUiD successfully merges the two prominently disparate ‘sounds’ in modern hip-hop music — New York and not-New York.

Her South Carolina roots shine through in her linguistic swagger, while 2 Hungry Bros. provide their trademark progressive-without-being-unnecessarily-experimental musical landscape, typically a finely tuned mixture of sparse but noticeable drums and pleasing samples, loops and chops that run the gamut from slow, thumping, 808-heavy, throwback-sounding “Fayded,” to the ethereal, spacey club vibe of “Faynt of Heart.” Her command of this dichotomy is placed front and center with “Fayce Off,” the funky kickoff to the album, as LiKWUiD proudly calls out her bilateral roots and affiliations, firmly establishing her desired role as dual-citizen rap stateswoman.

When an album is described as a “call-to-action presented thru a creative lens of an artist accepting a role in the new wave of color consciousness, androgynous femininity, and social rebellion,” there is clearly an artist seeking to make a statement. Despite this goal, there isn’t a whole lot of typically direct messaging throughout Fay Grim, despite “Faytal Silence” setting a commanding tone right from the start.

Instead, LiKWUiD touches on sensitive and important topics in a much more artistic manner. You’ll hear commentary on race relations, love and relationships, religion, abortion and “ultimately, self-acceptance” sprinkled through the project in a personal, perfectly non-preachy way of capturing the attention of listeners who are yearning for hip-hop depth without having to feel bombarded with a spelled-out ideology. The result is, much like many of her listeners might be feeling about life itself in these strange times — sobering, yet somehow, still hopeful.

In this respect, Fay Grim excels. LiKWUiD is extremely listenable. Her voice and flow is simultaneously firm, yet welcoming. Her overall vibe reflects a proud, unapologetic, conquering force and offers a safe space for all who would welcome her.

This album lets fans and new listeners get to know the woman behind the music, a vital aspect of modern musicmaking. Catching LiKWUiD performing, and the connection is amplified. She is a confident, polished performer with a solidly progressive catalog, who knows just how much vulnerability to exude through her art, leaving a lasting impression as well as a lingering desire to hear, and learn, more about her and her perspectives.

The political and journalistic landscapes may indeed seem grim these days, but with LiKWUiD out here, hip-hop’s outlook is much more fayvorable.

You can often find LiKWUiD hosting the monthly artist showcase and open mic series, the Shrine Sifer, or moving crowds from behind the the turntables at various New York City hotspots.