The Singles Jukebox

Hold the karaoke…

[Video]
[6.17]

Will Adams: JOCK JAMS FOREVER
[6]

Alfred Soto: I defy anyone to resist a hip hop track that samples Noel’s immortal “Silent Morning,” and the three rappers have such distinctive timbres that the polyphony makes sense, but the raps themselves aren’t distinctive, like SOB x RBE themselves. 
[6]

Katherine St Asaph: Talking about technical ability on a track that samples a freestyle song is missing about three points at once, but it still seems like you could swap out the instrumental with no problem, since none of the rappers seem to know it’s there.
[3]

Micha Cavaseno: The SOB x RBE formula is an incredibly efficient one that is deceptively simple: take an old freestyle or electro R&B record (“Ain’t Nobody,” “Let The Music Play,” “Why You Treat Me So Bad,” etc.) and allow the group to spit in their signature terse Detroit-influenced style with an eagerness and excess energy that is hard to match. That the group’s appearance on Kendrick Lamar’s Black Panther soundtrack was by far the actual standout compared to the bloated largesse of the rest of the record demonstrated just how vital they’ve become in the current rap climate; an accidental DIY Hot Boyz from the Bay Area for the Soundcloud rap generation (*hurriedly* DABOII IS JUVIE, SLIMMY IS B.G., T- *remembers the review and clears throat*). “Carpoolin'” is as good a showcase for the group as any with the highlights in full effect, as T.O. remains melodious and floaty, Slimmy weaving and cut-throat and Daboii all sledgehammer brutality. Easily one of the best rap groups in America today, with no signs of stopping.
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Nortey Dowuona: Bouncy, plastic trampoline drums hop up and down in front of slight ’80s synths while DaBoii, Slimmy B and Young T.O. slam headfirst into the drums and drill through without an ounce of fear.
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Julian Axelrod: SOB x RBE attack the souped-up 808s like they’ve got everything to prove. This is miles away from the laid-back cruise of their California contemporaries Kamaiyah or G Perico; instead, the Vallejo crew sounds like they’re doing 100 on the highway with a brick on the gas and a mic on the dashboard. The result is simultaneously exhilarating and exhausting, a hundred-yard dash that barely gives you a chance to breathe. But as a nervous kid from California, it’s cool to hear West coast rap that captures a specific kind of anxiety: overwhelmed, sun-fried, and decidedly un-chill. 
[6]