by Justin Davis (@AnkhDeLillo)
Take a good look around New York’s indie rap scene in the past decade, and you’ll keep running into Wiki: he stays busy repping his formative years in Manhattan’s Upper West Side, his Puerto Rican-Irish heritage, his deeply approachable candor, and sharp lyricism. Wiki’s been making waves as a solo artist (and as part of his former group Ratking) since the early 2010s, but he’s really hit his stride over the past few years. In fall of 2021, we got Half God, a brilliant bildungsroman produced by Navy Blue that features some of Wiki’s most intimate and precise songwriting yet. Last year’s Cold Cuts expanded his hyper-local sensibilities to the Tri-State area with New Jersey producer Subjxct 5, while One More was a short, soulful EP with The Alchemist and fellow New Yorker MIKE. This new project, Papiseed Street Vol. 1, dropped on Bandcamp largely unpromoted, although he did premiere a couple of tracks with The Lot Radio earlier this month.
Compared to his last few releases, Papiseed Street is especially loose and playful. There’s the obvious play on Sesame Street in the title, and samples of Oscar the Grouch scattered throughout, reading “trash poems” to women, asking people if they’ll bring his trash home with them, and threatening to “play the most horrible, terrible sounds” to make a guy go away. As New York City generates over 14 million tons of trash every year, Wiki’s gleefully offering us his own “trash,” scooped up off the studio floor, insisting that we take it off his hands. Still, beneath that playfulness, there’s a latent tension across this project as well. Wiki constantly moves between interiority and accessibility, between his expectations for himself and those placed on him by others: “people confuse me being angry with when I be saying it proud,” he quips on opener “Willy Mays.” In some ways, Papiseed Street feels like a counterpoint to the patient retrospection of Half God and Cold Cuts—like Wiki happened to be in our neighborhood, dropping by to catch up before he moves on to his next stop.
Wiki has a real talent for building momentum across a song, stacking vivid images on top of vignettes, jokes, and emotional insights. “30 Days” finds him in the zone for a solid four minutes, bouncing from topic to topic; Juju Merk’s production is bold and infectious, laced with dry, wheezing horns, thick drums, and bubbly bursts of keys. We hear fiery critiques of New York’s steady gentrification (“tried to pillage off the real New York, on some shit like Plymouth Rock”); meditations on longevity (“even in the year 3000, be on some primal shit / that’s the type of time I’m in and on”); and tongue-in-cheek commitments à la 50 Cent’s “21 Questions,” among other things (“shawty gon’ ride for me if I lost all my teeth, huh?”). In a long aside near the end, we’re asked to guess Wiki’s next fit, flipping through options like we’re customizing a videogame character. Is the jacket Avirex or Guess? Are the Dickies pants “crispy, or ripped up and faded?” Is he stepping out in Wallabees, Nike Foamposites, or “beef and broccoli” Timbs? What ties these disparate threads together is the idea of self-protection, taking time for yourself and your community—these interlocking parts of Wiki’s life and presentation help defend against personal stagnation, culture vultures, and opps with short memories.
Another highlight is “Out My Mind” featuring Niontay—a Brooklyn transplant who just dropped a slick, left-field debut record on MIKE’s label 10k. Compared to “30 Days,” the mix here is rough and fuzzy; the raps don’t sit on top, but settle down into it like your house’s comfiest chair, and Laron and Luca Beats’ dark, woozy trap sounds really complement Wiki and Niontay’s subdued flows. Wiki briefly reflects on a childhood spent “hopping turnstiles, hiding from the pigs,” comparing his past desires for solitude with his present ones: “I’m just sick and tired of saying ‘Hi’ every time I dip up out my crib.” As Niontay’s hook talks about feeling “out my body, out my mind, out my skin,” Wiki calls attention to all the things we don’t know about him—and how the music can give us a false sense of being fully in his shoes: “y’all ain’t took a glimpse of what my eyes took in / yeah, I see y’all looking in.”
The beats are handled entirely by New York producers Juju Merk, Laron, and Luca Beats, who often dip in droning, wavy synths, booming 808s, and clipping vocal samples. At times, the dense bursts of snares and hi-hats and driving rhythms feel distinctly drill-adjacent. Juju Merk comes from the MERK La Familia music collective, and has worked with Wiki a few times in the past couple years. Laron’s dropped tracks with Wiki before, too, along with prolific trap stylists like KEY!, Jay Critch, and Rich the Kid; Luca Beats has mainly cut his teeth in New York drill, scoring credits with artists like Smoove’L, Bizzy Banks, and Flatbush Zombies member Zombie Juice. Wiki’s music has always been invested in New York revivalism, but he’s not a purist when it comes to sounds or features. His recent engagements with New Jersey hip-hop take a prominent role here: guests Big Ouee and Papo2oo4 are New Jerseyites who have frequently worked with Subjxct 5, including on Cold Cuts. Big Ouee’s lilting, punch-drunk flow on “Three Kings” sounds effortlessly confident and withholding all at once: “these nigg*s are my custies, I be serving ‘em that stuff / nigg*s talking about blickys, but my mans really got it tucked.” Papo2oo4 quickly follows, his voice deep and raspy; his reference points often straddle the Bush era and present day, like when he says he’s “been that n*gga since N’Sync” right after bringing up Steph Curry. This project’s varying moods and influences highlight Wiki’s versatility: although he’s dipped in more mainstream production plenty of times before, Papiseed Street’s aesthetic feels particularly forward-thinking.
Wiki’s newest offerings are vibrant and off-the-cuff, full of his trademark personality. As he preps for a European tour this summer with Subjxct 5, Papo2oo4, and UK rapper Jadasea, Papiseed Street is a signpost for fans that he could really go anywhere from here. “Well—don’t you understand?” says Oscar the Grouch on the last track, waiting to five back into his familiar trashcan. “It’s for you.”