From The Desk Of Aesop Rock: Fireworks

Following a five-year hiatus, San Francisco-via-NYC hip-hop artist Aesop Rock recently returned with his first solo album since None Shall Pass. Released by the Rhymesayers label, Skelethon is the rapper’s effort to come to terms with the death of a close friend, as well as the deterioration of several friendships and close relationships. “Death has become commonplace in my life,” he says. “The past few years was an endless period of skeletons. But, hopefully, Skelethon will help put all of this behind me. It’s like a giant purging—like finishing a chapter and preparing to jump into the next one.” Aesop will also be guest editing magnetmagazine.com all week. Read our recent feature on him.

Aesop: Growing up, any sort of fireworks were strictly prohibited by mom (and the law?). That said, the Fourth of July was a bit of an insane clusterfuck of lights, bangs and danger. The block I grew up on had a lot of kids, some of which were the kind your parents didn’t want you to be friends with. These kids always had those crazy firework catalogs in the months leading up to July. I never really understood who was actually buying them or how, but on the Fourth, the amount of explosions was absurd—and safety was not a priority. I’d find myself in the middle of it all, shit exploding all around me, begging friends to break me off a couple firecrackers.

My younger brother even had a classic Jumping-Jack-up-the-shirt moment. When shit got intense, I’d play the sidelines, dodging errant sparks and waiting for the perfect time to head back into the danger. As an adult, not much has changed.

There’s few things I love more than scoring a bag of fireworks and spending an evening, alone or with company, lighting them. It feels exciting and fun and dangerous and youthful and awesome. I love the smell. I love watching a bottle rocket soar up into the sky and explode. And I love being the one who lit the fuse.

Video after the jump.