It’s hard to deny that some of today’s best music has come out of Minneapolis. Hundreds of talented artists call Minnesota their home, and those who do not seem to stop there on tour at one point or another. It’s unclear exactly when this phenomenon began, but the start of the legendary Minneapolis hip-hop scene is easier to pinpoint. In 1996, the rap group Atmosphere started their own label, Rhymesayers, after experiencing immense frustration with local studios.
Rhymesayers has since signed dozens of the most innovative and avant-garde hip-hop acts in the country. In 2013, Jake Anderson (better known as Prof) added his name to that list.
Prof is an incredibly vulgar, high-energy performer whose self-deprecating sense of humor is bound to leave an impression. If it doesn’t, his appearance will. He’s known for wearing brightly-colored sweatpants, a different brightly-colored hoodie and a brightly-colored beanie on stage. Combine that with his facial hair and giant perpetual crazy-eyes and you definitely won’t forget this name. His unique and (more than) slightly unhinged persona could easily account for the appeal — seeing Prof perform is an experience independent of his music. Add to that the fact that all of his albums up until now have been free and his tours have been limited, and you’ll understand why he doesn’t have a large following.
His newest album, “Liability,” dropped this month and should change that setback. What’s particularly refreshing about Prof is that he is pleasantly predictable. His hard-partying, irreverent and crude persona is ever-present, but in a way that makes you feel safe. You know he’s going off the rails, but you generally have an idea of where he’s going.
That being said, the arrogant and grating side of rap has certainly become redundant. This provides scrutiny of the first half of “Liability,” a compilation of party tracks and macho assertions of prestige. However, everything from Prof’s beats to his lyrical creativity to his tongue-in-cheek humor has set him apart. The opening track, “Galore,” has a unique, sexy beat that puts you in the mood for a good time no matter what you’re feeling when you hit play. “King” is another respectable beat full of jabs at Prof’s hubris, including the clever line, “There’s peacocks in my kitchen / my shoes are made of diamonds.” “I Had Sex in the 90’s,” although as meaningless as it sounds, is noteworthy because of its incredibly catchy hook and lighthearted attitude.
The second half of the album drags a bit at times but certainly shows Prof’s range. Tracks like “Gasoline” and “Love Like Mine” are content-strong without compromising personality. Prof croons about his difficult relationships in a completely innovative way — a rarity for a topic that has become increasingly cliché in music of all genres.
“Permission” is another fresh track that offers a very unique and honest perspective on life. It starts as an overdone inspirational track as seen on many underground rap albums but turns into a defense of Prof’s stubborn and selfish pursuit of happiness. Despite the way he presents himself, Prof is much more than a reckless partier who spends Wednesday nights gargling with rum and puking in alleys.
The production of “Liability” is a bit quirky, but this works well with Prof’s flow. It’s a sound that is completely unique to him, but one with which it can be difficult to get accustomed to. After all, Prof isn’t a likable protagonist; he has a lot of pain and he bandages it with frenetic hedonism. When that is stripped away in tracks like “Love Like Mine,” it can lead to some discomfort. However, an artist as gifted and honest as Prof is exciting to listen to and watch mature. At its worst, “Liability” is just an incredibly fun listen, but it would be better if Prof could jettison songs like “Apeshit” and stay true to his chaotic nature without conforming to Waka Flocka-type nonsense.