Hey hey hey, peeps.
So, since it's been a little under a week since #RR officially dropped, I figured that I'd give a bit more insight into my reasoning behind the album. Those that have been following me on Twitter probably know a bit behind the little man in the photo featured.
He is my son, Jovanni (yes, of the Jovanni M. Speed College Fund I keep blabbing about). He's 15 months and some change right now. Great kid, friendly disposition, and overall a Godsend to my insane life. Unfortunately, as the case goes sometimes, I began to feel inadequate as a father. I was in between jobs, unable to provide for him in the ways I really wanted to, in a self-destructive mindset, and often resorted to partying to ease the pain.
Add all those feelings of self-doubt and self-destruction to the idea that my relationships were failing by the dozen, some "heartbreakers," a desire to see what else was out there romantically, and a "fuck the world" complex, and you get half of the reasoning behind my desire to kill the modern male I had become by the beginning of the new year. How the hell does a foulmouthed hip-hop album relate to an innocent toddler?
Simple. This album, as it is intended to do to some of my contemporaries, is meant to one day educate him in the way NOT to act when life goes a bit south. Then, there's the whole college fund thing. But, thirdly, the album is meant to be therapy--without the couch and all that crap-in an Eminem-minus-the-mommy-issues-type-of-way. I mean, since my descent into "modernity," I have lost a lot of contact with some important people in my life--Jovanni, in some ways included. Do I want sympathy for my faults? Hell no. I just want people to know the whole story behind the motivation for such a controversial album.
So, no, I wasn't recording it with a smile on my face and a bunch of 'bad women" rubbing on my pants or some shit.