Ghetto People Everything by Chris Rob Ian Friday: A House Gem That Still Slaps (Kinda)
Alright, let’s get into it. Ghetto People Everything is one of those albums that sneaks up on you like a ninja at a rave—quietly but with serious vibes. Released in 2007 under the Tea Party Music label, this electronic house album doesn’t try to reinvent the wheel, but damn if it doesn’t make the wheel spin real smooth. Mastered by RCE (whoever they are, props to ‘em), this thing has just enough grit and groove to keep your feet moving and your brain nodding.
Now, let’s break it down track-by-track… well, kinda. I’m not gonna bore you with every single song because honestly, who’s got time for that? Instead, let’s talk about two tracks that stuck in my head like gum on a dancefloor shoe.
First up: “Ghetto People (Tea Party Vocal).” Oh man, this tune hits different. It’s got that classic house beat—thumpy, bouncy, and ready to make strangers hug each other on the dance floor. The vocals here are what really do it for me. They’re raw, unpolished, and dripping with soul. Like someone just walked straight outta the hood and onto the mic without overthinking it. There’s something oddly refreshing about how unapologetically real it feels. Plus, the bassline? Chef’s kiss. You can practically hear the DJ smirking as they drop this bad boy during peak hours.
Then there’s “Everything (Original Vocal).” This one leans more melodic, with vocals that sound like they were recorded in a dreamy haze. It’s the kind of track that makes you wanna close your eyes, sway dramatically, and pretend you’re starring in your own indie film montage. But don’t get too lost in the feels—it still packs enough punch to keep the energy alive. What I love most is how effortlessly it switches between emotional depth and straight-up party fuel. It’s like having a deep convo with your bestie while simultaneously vibing to the beat. Multitasking at its finest.
So yeah, Ghetto People Everything isn’t perfect. Some parts feel dated (hello, 2007 calling!), and a couple of transitions could’ve used a bit more finesse. But hey, imperfections give character, right? And this album has plenty of that. It’s scrappy, heartfelt, and full of life—the musical equivalent of an underground club where everyone knows each other’s name.
Final thought? If aliens ever invade Earth and demand proof that humans know how to party, I’d hand them this album. Because seriously, what better way to show off our ability to turn beats into joy than with Chris Rob Ian Friday’s quirky little masterpiece? Just saying.
