Image via Estevan Oriol
Steven Louis will pick you up from the airport, because “LAXit” is a crime against the city.
There’s a dry, rustling silence across the ranch. We’re at an undisclosed location north of Los Angeles County, but it might as well be a 20th-century Maynard Dixon canvas preserved across time. One of the most decorated producers in hip-hop, if not all contemporary music, rides up on an American Saddlebred, which we’ll assume is named either Sweet Black Horsey or Bombudd III.
Dusted spurs, fraying leather jacket, sunburnt solitude – this was the retirement plan for DJ Quik, before a crimson Compton seal flashed across the sky and a call of “whaaaaaaaat!” bellowed from beyond the mountains. Before Quik even had furniture moved into his new house, there was JasonMartin, the rapper formerly known as Problem who co-starred on 2017’s collaborative Rosecrans album. A laptop listening session in the barren living room became a month-long impromptu studio kickback; the retirement ranch became a working G-funk bunker for the likes of Game, Jay Worthy and an ensemble of battle-tested L.A. veterans. Just when Quik thought he was out, they pulled him back in, etc.
The resulting Chupacabra is groovy, textured, hypnotic and even hilarious. “Eazy Call” finds the duo hitting three-wheel motion in the coupe, sliding across Crenshaw and Jefferson. “Cold Ass 2 Step” pressurizes a discordant funk, as if one trillion flies were buzzing around open malt liquor inside a Chevy Impala. “Workout” is a block party smash that sources sounds from 1987, and 2003, and the 31st century.
The guest list is inspired and efficient. Suga Free rides up and proudly declares that Pope Francis couldn’t save him even if he tried; Larry June drives over from the Marriott, where he’s doing pilates and eating sushi with his rotating concubines; George Clinton spits game about plagued livestock and mythical bloodsuckers. Game sounds rejuvenated, clocking in on three of the first four tracks, and Quik has immaculate chemistry with more plush musicians like Thundercat, Channel Tres, and the Free Nationals.
The anchoring force is JasonMartin, whose flow is malleable, spry and punchy across Quik’s intricate and golden beatwork. On “Since I Was Lil,” a west-meets-south cypher boasting all-time chillers in Bun B, Curren$y and Jay Worthy, it’s Jason that sounds the iciest. Quik rapping again is thrilling stuff, as he calls himself the horse-powered matador for a plethora of haters. In conversation, the Comptonites crack jokes – at one point, Jason attributes poor vision to his “vintage eyes,” while Quik and I snicker about the name Susie Thundertussy – but both keep bringing up their commitments to professionalism established through past decades.
The chupacabra is a trippy piece of folklore, but it’s also an instructive mascot for their shared artistry – vampiric and alien, scaring the goats out of their skeletons, rarely talked about as much as it should be. Chupacabra deserves to be on the short list for rap album of the year, all the more so when we learn that it was created by accident. We spoke to them about the new music, the sacred art of sampling, mushrooms, “bloops” of tequila and the 1984 Olympics in LA.
​​(This interview has been condensed and lightly edited for clarity.)