FxckMr
1997
Album - Hip-Hop, Music, Hip-Hop/Rap
Rapper FxckMr, aka MisterLee Cloutier-Ellsworth, comes from the Canada that people who know nothing about Canada tend to envision as all of Canada: Iqaluit, the capital of the northern territory of Nunavut. There, igloos might largely be reduced to stereotypical symbols of a proud precolonial past, but pack ice indeed still clogs the harbor in June, and one runs the genuine risk of being dragged into the void by a polar bear if venturing beyond town unprepared.
That the 22-year-old Inuk MC has managed to be heard outside that neglected part of the world, where there are no traditional recording studios or live venues, let alone a hip-hop scene to speak of, would be cause for remark even if 1997 wasn’t such a tantalizingly cocksure debut album. But it happens to be a curt, 24-minute blast of blown-out north-of-60 narco-nihilism that positions FxckMr as the reluctant 21st-century hip-hop voice of the Inuit’s “broken motherland,” as he calls it on the bleak closer, “Hunnid Grand.”
FxckMr generally stays away from directly referencing the epidemics of poverty and suicide that afflict post-colonial Inuit life, at least beyond a personal level. Sure, connections might be drawn between his troubled homeland and the violent streaks of self-loathing and self-destruction that run through cuts like the “Higher” and the metal-edged “Death Trap” (whose title is actually a pretty good shorthand descriptor for the music he makes), but the grim vibe is ultimately more defiant than hopeless. A track such as “PMFWAFT (Pretty Muthafucka Wit a Face Tat)” is the kind of self-confident, ready-made theme song that can only be made by someone in it for the long haul. And on “Life n’ Death,” when he raspily relays, “Lookin’ up/We born high as fuck/’Cause the sun’s barely up,” he offers up even more context for his unique perspective and place in the world.
That the 22-year-old Inuk MC has managed to be heard outside that neglected part of the world, where there are no traditional recording studios or live venues, let alone a hip-hop scene to speak of, would be cause for remark even if 1997 wasn’t such a tantalizingly cocksure debut album. But it happens to be a curt, 24-minute blast of blown-out north-of-60 narco-nihilism that positions FxckMr as the reluctant 21st-century hip-hop voice of the Inuit’s “broken motherland,” as he calls it on the bleak closer, “Hunnid Grand.”
FxckMr generally stays away from directly referencing the epidemics of poverty and suicide that afflict post-colonial Inuit life, at least beyond a personal level. Sure, connections might be drawn between his troubled homeland and the violent streaks of self-loathing and self-destruction that run through cuts like the “Higher” and the metal-edged “Death Trap” (whose title is actually a pretty good shorthand descriptor for the music he makes), but the grim vibe is ultimately more defiant than hopeless. A track such as “PMFWAFT (Pretty Muthafucka Wit a Face Tat)” is the kind of self-confident, ready-made theme song that can only be made by someone in it for the long haul. And on “Life n’ Death,” when he raspily relays, “Lookin’ up/We born high as fuck/’Cause the sun’s barely up,” he offers up even more context for his unique perspective and place in the world.
1997
FxckMr
Rapper FxckMr, aka MisterLee Cloutier-Ellsworth, comes from the Canada that people who know nothing about Canada tend to envision as all of Canada: Iqaluit, the capital of the northern territory of Nunavut. There, igloos might largely be reduced to stereotypical symbols of a proud precolonial past, but pack ice indeed still clogs the harbor in June, and one runs the genuine risk of being dragged into the void by a polar bear if venturing beyond town unprepared.
That the 22-year-old Inuk MC has managed to be heard outside that neglected part of the world, where there are no traditional recording studios or live venues, let alone a hip-hop scene to speak of, would be cause for remark even if 1997 wasn’t such a tantalizingly cocksure debut album. But it happens to be a curt, 24-minute blast of blown-out north-of-60 narco-nihilism that positions FxckMr as the reluctant 21st-century hip-hop voice of the Inuit’s “broken motherland,” as he calls it on the bleak closer, “Hunnid Grand.”
FxckMr generally stays away from directly referencing the epidemics of poverty and suicide that afflict post-colonial Inuit life, at least beyond a personal level. Sure, connections might be drawn between his troubled homeland and the violent streaks of self-loathing and self-destruction that run through cuts like the “Higher” and the metal-edged “Death Trap” (whose title is actually a pretty good shorthand descriptor for the music he makes), but the grim vibe is ultimately more defiant than hopeless. A track such as “PMFWAFT (Pretty Muthafucka Wit a Face Tat)” is the kind of self-confident, ready-made theme song that can only be made by someone in it for the long haul. And on “Life n’ Death,” when he raspily relays, “Lookin’ up/We born high as fuck/’Cause the sun’s barely up,” he offers up even more context for his unique perspective and place in the world.
That the 22-year-old Inuk MC has managed to be heard outside that neglected part of the world, where there are no traditional recording studios or live venues, let alone a hip-hop scene to speak of, would be cause for remark even if 1997 wasn’t such a tantalizingly cocksure debut album. But it happens to be a curt, 24-minute blast of blown-out north-of-60 narco-nihilism that positions FxckMr as the reluctant 21st-century hip-hop voice of the Inuit’s “broken motherland,” as he calls it on the bleak closer, “Hunnid Grand.”
FxckMr generally stays away from directly referencing the epidemics of poverty and suicide that afflict post-colonial Inuit life, at least beyond a personal level. Sure, connections might be drawn between his troubled homeland and the violent streaks of self-loathing and self-destruction that run through cuts like the “Higher” and the metal-edged “Death Trap” (whose title is actually a pretty good shorthand descriptor for the music he makes), but the grim vibe is ultimately more defiant than hopeless. A track such as “PMFWAFT (Pretty Muthafucka Wit a Face Tat)” is the kind of self-confident, ready-made theme song that can only be made by someone in it for the long haul. And on “Life n’ Death,” when he raspily relays, “Lookin’ up/We born high as fuck/’Cause the sun’s barely up,” he offers up even more context for his unique perspective and place in the world.
