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Session for his upcoming mixtape while standing on a small, cordonedoff stage. As each tune was aired out, Stalley, encounter framed by baseball cap and beard, and Rozay, face cupped by much less unruly beard, stood next to each other, smiled like they'd just gotten Groupon lobotomies, and bobbed their heads. Seeing the two of them in tandem was a quaint second of hirsute hiphop solidarity, but the dynamics of the evening may be much more damning of Ross's attempts to position Stalley as a mainstream fixture. In blunt phrases, no 1 really listened. Sure, it was a listening session, that most inherently flawed way of listening to new songs you're essentially struggling the atmosphere of the chattering industry classes while sometimes choosing out a phrase or two from a lessthanoptimized audio method (be aware to Dre: your store's music system sounds slushy). But it also felt like a misplaced chance to help push Stalley's trigger. In introducing himself, the likable Stalley said that he was thankful to be able to perform his album to "a oneonone intimate environment." He sounded sincere, and offered his qualities manages to shift into moments of introspection and adorable lyrical phrasing inside his verses personal cheap beats by dre solo setting would have been the obvious arena in which to win individuals over. But there was absolutely nothing intimate about the setup: it was a bunch of individuals plonked into a retail shop, without chairs, without visible focus, and with a start time that went down nearly two hrs late. Unsurprisingly, the stream towards the exit cheap beats by dre headphones door was a continuous, if not dominating, function of the evening. To Stalley's advantage, Savage Journey To The American Dream seemed to play out with a comparable quality to his previous releases, not least last year's superb Lincoln Way Evenings (Intelligent Trunk Muzik). The cheap beats by dre studio opening monitor, with its perky chachachapatterned drums, had him distancing himself from the fantasy raps of his boss and proclaiming, "I ain't by no means peeled a cap." It was followed by the sort of tune that Nas once excelled at attacking: chunky east coast manufacturing, melancholy piano loop, and a (sampled or hired) soul singer on the hook. (To this one, the bobblehead brothers additional a small sway to their schedule.) Then came the tune with Curren$y (the collaboration occurred following, Stalley stated, "the big homey Ross, he made some phone calls"). Then arrived
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