As we collectively wait for an absurdly expensive glowing ball to hit the ground, we are faced with a great unknown about the days ahead.  We call family, we call friends, we make preposterous statements called ‘Resolutions’, and then proceed to do the same thing we always do: get hammered on our intoxicant of choice.

I for one am no different.  I both enjoy and loathe the cycle that begins and, to be perfectly honest persists through, a new year.  I call family, I call friends, and I drink, etc, the order being the only variable (Mom I apologize for 2005).
This is a New Years pattern we’ve all grown accustomed to, and is no different in music, especially Hip Hop.  We go through the paces.  Each year in recent history there is the call that there are no fresh artists, no fresh ideas, no lyricists, and of course the ubiquitous HIP HOP IS DEAD.