In any case, my acquaintance claimed that Dirty was indeed unhygienic, wearing the same set of clothes every day. He was also unrepentant, giving my source no indication that his drying-out period initiated a new, cleaner life for the one the Man knows as Russell Jones. He was friendly to those fellow detox clients who spoke to him as they would've to anyone else, but dismissive toward the young men who sweated him. Thing was, at the time he was driving an in-law, who was not a rap fan, to the airport.
Life is messy like that.
Any rhymes that turn up in this Dirty's verses sound accidental, to the extent where the fact that he actually recorded a whole album this year seems miraculous. They carom and ricochet far outside the lines, but remain on time and in tune, like crazy bebop solos, not breaking the rules but gleefully bending them beyond recognition. No demographic worth catering to relates to him. Dirty knows that he's loved, anyway, and he also knows why. It's not wholly about music, but if you happen to find yourself willing to go where that voice goes, you can get up, crank the volume, and participate in a little bit of the life Dirty's living.