by Dan O

Music is an odd place. I’ve been listening to Crimeapple for at least six years now. The first project I remember digesting ferociously was Aguardiente with Big Ghost Limited. I always listened to Crime and respected the skills but I never connected to the mission. Artistic mission is hope and character mixed from the heart and mind of the artist. I didn’t really get Crime if that makes sense. El Léonframed him in a way that made me want to keep living in this space. The sonics were warm, dusty, and classically beautiful but ornately Fania. I was always going to listen intently to the project because of my excitement for any new work by Preservation. Very few people shift as mightily and make it pay off. I didn’t count on my love for Preservation teaching me what is so important about Crimeapple.

Throughout the twenty-six minutes and forty seconds we get to know the mission. Crimeapple is a passionate person whose passion can lift those around him and fill them with joy (Quanto Te Quiero) or spoil, rot and turn vengeful (Lion VS Panther).  As an emcee he’s worked with everyone, seen every kind of beat, approaches the world with seasoned perspective. Thinking of one of the albums defining moments on Don’t Mention It when he tosses off “You don’t got to bow and show reverence, I know what I meant to this, don’t mention it.” That kind of comprehension comes from a strategic mind, confident from lots of trial and error…yet still wired for extreme reactions.  A person whose version of letting ish go is shooting your toe.  He’s gross, loyal, horny, hilarious, and fully formed.

After a string of brilliantly blinding threats and brags on Paw Prints In The Sand he declares he has to call his mother and we dial until hear her voice in Spanish tells us to leave a message. That goes right into Quanto Te Quiero which lays out his childhood honestly and in appreciation of her. While some have noted that Crimeapple doesn’t do intricate flow it is in service of never being misunderstood. When he speaks to his mother “Always there when you need me. Although, I’m always over here or over there you can reach me.” It is supposed to be direct. Not under or over stated just stated. You don’t have to spend a lot of time decoding lyrical meaning on El Léon but you can’t escape his presence. Preservation gets it. Bulevar is one of my favorite songs of 2024 and the beat is a sumptuously strummed guitar with flourishes to accommodate but nothing that overloads the space. It’s the kind of production that touches your soul. This pushes our narrator to paint us a picture unlike any in this year of music. Where hope gets smoked in a glass, roof leaking, floor creaking quickly contrasting to the simple act of your ears popping on a plane. Kendrick couldn’t have written this song. I don’t even know if I could explain why, or why this project flows so seamlessly. I don’t know if I could explain why, when I reorganize my Bandcamp collection for most listened this is the second highest, over titans of the industry. I wanted to live with Crime and Pres this year and when the guitar stopped strumming I just wanted to press play again.