RED magazine

Evidently, Abnorml and Pig Pen, The Circle Jerk go way back. They bitch at each other like an old married couple. But that’s how all the Unit interacts. Mostly it’s just funny and harmlessly juvenile. Sometimes they’re vicious, verbally clubbing each other down, maybe in pursuit of the alpha emcee title. After getting to know the Unit, I still can’t help but look at Boothe as the unofficial leader of the pack. He is enthusiastic, driven and wound tighter than a spring. So far, all that I’ve seen of his day-to-day life—from the way he moves or walks sometimes to the way he spits rhymes like sunflower seeds—belts out “hip-hop boy” like a war cry.
The smart-assed, smug, sharp and self-righteous mentality that he wears like a broad-brimmed hat is crystallized and made into what sometimes turns out as brilliant art, the moment he steps behind a microphone. He experiments with unexplored altitudes of death-defying internal rhyme scheme and mad-flowing speed. He has balls. With slim to no chiding he was talked into freestyling an impromptu bit in front of Uprok. The flow wasn’t impressive, but it was heartfelt.
The last emcee to introduce himself to the invasive journalist, Task could easily be mistaken for just another lanky, anti-social average-looking city kid with a bit of hip-hop-stylized flair to him. Then, when he opens his mouth, he brings us bread and butter for the beat-driven soul. In person he is a relatively reserved kid, at least in comparison to the rest of The Filthy Unit. Behind the microphone, he tends to transform into one sharp-tongued vicious emcee.
“Growing up in the Sandy-Little Cottonwood area, we had a little scene where kids would come and kick rhymes. The Uprok kids were always the best, always seen as intimidating,” said Task. Unlike most young hip hop musicians, Task skipped the mainstream hullabaloo phase. “I just never really liked that…stuff,” he shrugged. Instead he dove directly into the scene’s holy heart, finding his place at local house parties, in the spotlight behind the mic. Two weekends ago, Task and Abnorml cleaned out the Unite Battles, held annually at the Kiwanis Club on 900 East. Task took first, Abby second.
These boys aren’t just fooling around—they take the whole scene almost too seriously. They record once a week, every week, affiliated at present with Sleestack Records. They’re constantly promoting, playing out, performing more or less anywhere and everywhere they can. It’s rare in a scene so small and unpretentious to see such dedication and genuine, self-motivated hard work. The Filthy Unit’s album is a worthwhile slow work in progress. It should be available for purchase by the end of this year.
Meanwhile, the group members will continue to dominate the microphone whenever possible. Catch them at Bourbon Street on Wednesday Nights for “Humpin’ Wax and Throwbacks Wednesdays”—or of course at Undagroundz, where they sling coffee and, on Friday nights, trade brutal, sick rhymes. The first Friday of every month, Undagroundz is a host to rap battles of all walks—“Raw-dog-dirty mo’fuckin’ hip-hop, man,” is how Boothe put it—and the group has tour dates lined up for a month of Sundays. See them and Kanser on Oct. 25 at Undagroundz, (344 S. State Street). See them again at Brick’s (579 W. 200 South) on Nov. 15. You can track bits and pieces of their gorgeous progress on UtahGraffiti.com. Or you could put on your I Am Not Afraid Hat and stroll up State to Uprok once in a while—eventually, you’re bound to run into something good.