Zak Downtown - “Yoga”

Bikram has its sweltering temperatures and rigid postures. Goat yoga has, well, goats. And Zak Downtown has just introduced a third discipline, one practiced at considerably higher volumes and with a beat worthy of G.O.A.T. status. “Yoga” is one of the sickest things I've heard in a while, and I'm ready to enroll in whatever spiritual institution is responsible for it. Inhale. Exhale. Find your center. Mine appears to be located directly between the kick drum and the bassline. Zak's always had a gift for clever wordplay, and here he's stretching syllables, double meanings, and the limits of my attention span. “Make the money stretch like yoga.” Financial flexibility! Finally, an exercise program I can support.

“She laid out like a mat when I roll up,” he announces, and suddenly the curriculum has become considerably more interesting. The beat is doing things to my nervous system that no amount of downward dog could ever accomplish, and I suspect my chakras have just received a rather substantial promotion. This is personal growth with a questionable dress code and an excellent rhythm section. My posture has improved, my third eye is open, and I'm feeling unusually receptive to extracurricular activities. “NamaSTAY”? Nah, I'm trying to leave. I've achieved enlightenment, and VIP access.