Not for lack of trying, but digesting an album offering from Topeka, Kansas emcee Stik Figa is a listening process that jumps ahead of casual playlist scrolling or background vibes. As a result, I needed to sit with JOBB for a few rotations before trying to articulate what he pulled off this time. Most importantly is that Stik would tap longtime collaborator D/Will for production throughout, a single producer pattern he has executed with a rotating cast, including the 2013 masterpiece The City Under The City with Mello Music Group producer L’Orange. The limitations of one mind on the instrumental front have never been an issue for Stik in the past, and JOBB proves that range can compensate for any hang ups that are associated with a single producer style.
From the onset of the “Clockin’ In” & “Clockin’ Out” suite, which is completed at the end of the album, an air of moody, rolling bass and sharp snares initiates what will be a motif of aggressive vocal delivery and clever word play. Nods to self-admitted influences like Bun B are woven into his Mid-West tone, while disguised nods to the likes of Wayne managed to tip my ear off to Big Easy and Atlanta bombastic punches. With one foot on the street and another floating inside his introspective mind, Stik juggles tales of his relatable struggles with a sensibility for wisdom that supersedes common pitfalls associated.
Detail oriented horn samples are always a must on his projects, and JOBB refuses to be an exception. D/Will has the foresight to craft beats with ever-present brass to compliment Stik’s enunciated drawl on the rolling “Negreux Riche” verses and hook. Yet sounds and samples of old don’t claim all of the accompaniment. “How Ya Feel” submits a synthesized bass effect very much in line with recognizable modern trends. The pleasantly futuristic song craft is a reprieve that lays focus on the bars before the album really gets legs. After the second micro-feature from Nathan Granner during an interlude, “Fight Or Flight (No Hez)” kicks in and angles Stik’s signature beat riding cadence towards internal murmurings about how he would handle the conflict the song’s nomenclature presents.
Equally catchy and likely the strongest cut from the entire body of work, “Waiting4” reflects on observations of the day-to-day complexities that enter his line of sight, fully complimented by the infectious hook that reads, “What’s in a name, the name my momma gave me, what’s in the veins, blood of kings maybe, what did he say, you really cant change me, praise me or hate me, either way the same me.” The tacked on bars are equally powerful with the likes of this presenting itself, “Creative language, I ain’t a dangerous weapon, your favorite gangster rapper makes statements when taking sessions, I pray for all my people that stay in the state corrections, I’m a Pharaoh like Jay while they barely make an impression, taking directions, substituting ingredients, lazy and greedy and viewing their work is tedious, I’m disobedient, these emcees is just comedians, sacrifice any of y’all for Eazy-E again.”
There is even more thickly laid wordsmithing to dissect on that track alone, but being thrown into the New Orleans second line bounce of “Direct Deposit” will not allow a replay just yet. Here we see Stik trying to accent his flow with end rhymes geared at styles you’d hear from rap’s biggest flavors of the era. He executes it with ease, flexing his pedigree as a student of the game. This is likely his most vital artistic attribute, yet he shields it well be stepping beyond that knowledge to form his own identity.
With a virtually a flawless run of 9 songs, 1 intro and 1 interlude, Stik manages to say more than most despite the petite track list. Beyond the unusually muted drums and bass of the anthemic “Work,” the now 7th installment of Stik Figa’s catalog continues to be a relentless voice of the unsuspecting Kansas rap scene that claims a sonic identity on to itself. I once called him one of the best in the Midwest on these pages and JOBB gives me no reason to think otherwise.
