What if the most interesting thing about a city in ashes isn’t what got destroyed, but what survived?
There’s something beautifully uncomfortable about calling a rap record Pompeii. The word arrives carrying centuries of catastrophe, a whole city caught in the instant history stopped being polite. It suggests buried lives, preserved wreckage, and the strange intimacy of looking at something that should have disappeared a long time ago. Put that title next to conscious hip-hop and boom bap, and the cultural antennae start twitching.
