UltravioletUnderground, the digital realm of Purple Magazine and Conscious Ink: Reviewed: Homeboy Sandman's 'The Good Sun'

Champion of the greymatter—of the highest order—dream merchant and awakener, Homeboy Sandman, has come at social uplift from several directions (from education to law), eventually finding the ideal medium, when he zoomed in on the root of communal ills (which are anti-communal from the seed) through the omni-influence of media, and the street-influencing steez-regulation seen in the Hiphop medium.

Goldenera-esque to the core, Homeboy Sandman emerged from the stardust of conscious dream-variations with a mind-healing mission, and satchel of glowing ethers. An Anti-gun, pro-herbivorous dish consuming greenman (strict Vegan), the REM-light purveyor sums up the spirit of 'The Good Sun' LP with the words:

'I'm fighting for my life and I'm fighting to the death,' finessed on the track 'The Carpenter', where the dream merchant lays the foundations for an album that proves satisfying from the drumskin pat to the wordage poised to set your dome aglow, and help society recover its lost halos.

Feeling 'stranded on a strange planet', speaking on the filthiness of land, air and the putrid condition of our water supply as 'more reasons I'm broad Vegan and organic', and the dum-di-dum thought patterns of 'people [who] don't live in the now' because 'they live in denial' on the glowing track 'Strange Planet', the sprinkler of new dreams reminds us that it requires more strength to use face muscles to muster a smile than it takes to muscle a frown (a post-note no doubt to the Mean Mugs addressed in the earlier track of the same title).

The complete absence of been-overdone-before tracks and themes, sets the refresh button with retro-thump etheric bricks for a new path in a medium that imposed insufferable brain-suck from the hiphop community for the all-corrupting American dollar after a still mourned departure from largely-conscious, community-affirming Golden-era HipHop, when corporations saw the profitable and no doubt genocidal-viability of the hiphop medium gone astray.

Music of this spirit blows the dust off of the common-man's neocortex, challenging the collective phoenix to rise from the ashes of self-destruction.

'Calm Tornado' for instance, tackles the 'be a dumber rapper' advice HipHop artists are faced with when they come with ethers of substance for the people, over the golden-era LOTU 'Funky Child' beat, complete with a spankin' new bass line of fittingly ominous tones.

Lyrical gems abound, from the mockery of industry types advising the down-play of self:

'Why you call yourself a dream merchant. You're too deep.... Rappers 'sposed to be earnin', not earnest, go ahead and sip some syrup, you're not a civil servant', to commentary of the unfortunate truths that have held our ears hostage in the hands of lesser men bowing to communal poisons:

'Deejays on the payroll. No Bueno' 'You probably groggy from fluoride in Dasani'

'Industry beef is increased to keep peeps from peeping whats in their beef and broccoli'

The final track, 'Angels with dirty faces' issues headchecks with: 'I know he in a bind but he can go buy beer and wine', answered by Homeboy Sandman directing our attention to the fallen amongst us, sleeping wherever they can find a spot—and if they're lucky that night, a patch of warmth—over a drummer-boy's beat of the epic variation, closing out an album of wake-up media for that lifepath:

'Imagine you was dying, nobody helped you, if ain't nobody listen you might talk to yourself too. Turnin' up your nose, holding your nose goin 'pieww...frontin' like its God's work what y'all go and do, when its time to show and prove y'all gone like phewwww.'

'Lightning bolts of energy, I've composed an elegy for bros that froze tonight.'

It's Hiphop after the conscious heart; the good sun outshining the burnt out stars on-front-street posing like their shedding light upon our heads.

Dream merchants are needed; dreamless sleep, in this society is death.

Buy 5 copies (on 6/1), and bump this in your hybrids and skycycles. When the first disc gets scratched you'll have 4 backups.

He gets it popping, but its not pop. Listen to him.